18th December 2001: An incomplete story about a trip to Belgium I went on when I was at school. Two of us lads have to share with one of our teachers…

Intimacy

Part 1

Even though I’m straight (well, on the whole!) I enjoy being intimate with guys I know. Doing stuff together like lying around watching TV in our underwear, showering at the gym, that kind of stuff. I mean, having sex with other men has its own, more obvious, attractions, but spending enough time with another straight guy for us to share mundane bodily moments like shaving and pissing and showering and stuff has always appealled to me as being something deeper and more fulfilling.

What the hell am I talking about?

Well, I guess the best way to explain what I mean is to tell you about something that happened to me when I was about fifteen.

The school arranged this history trip to Belgium , to see the trenches and the scenes of some of the major battles of the First World War. We stayed in this hostel which was in the middle of nowhere and travelled around Belgium by coach, stopping off at various places. My main memory is of the disappointment of finding out how little pratting about my mates and I would be able to get up to. It was the middle of February and the nearest village to our hostel was like twenty miles away. There were just thirty of us lads, a few staff and sod all else. No French girls’ school trip, as one guy had rumoured; no stashes of duty-free booze, as another had promised. Even the bar in the hostel was out-of-bounds.

Things weren’t looking too good. Except if you were into First World War history.

It got even worse when it turned out that there weren’t quite enough beds for the staff. I remember us all standing around outside the hostel in the snow. We’d had a few snowball fights and stuff while we waited for the teachers to sort out our rooms, but it took so long that after a while we just stood around feeling cold and wanting to get something hot to eat after the endless coach journey.

Then one of the history teachers, this ancient reptilian-looking man, came out and told us that two of us would have to share with one of the staff. We all just stood in silence, staring down at the snow, as if studying the footprints. “Look, I know it’s not ideal,” he went on in an imploring voice, “but it’s just for three nights.”

Anyway, eventually – after various failed attempts to recruit volunteers – he made us draw straws. Well, actually he used pens, two of which were red.

It turned out that I pulled out the first red pen. I knew I would: as I reached out and put my finger on one of the pens, I knew it was red. But I didn’t want to look like I was nancying around and changing my mind, so I just pulled it out. And it was red.

Well, everyone laughed and took the piss out of me. They all assumed that I’d be bunking up with the old guy. People were saying things like, “Hey don’t take a drink from his false teeth glass, Seb,” and “Hey mind you don’t put on his long johns…” as if he couldn’t hear.

But then the old guy said, “Actually, Sebastian, you’ll be sharing with Mr Gould.” That stopped the wisecracks. Gould was thought of as being a fairly cool guy. He was in his mid-twenties and taught maths and sports. He ran camping trips to the Himalayas and stuff. I knew some sixth formers who had shared a tent with him half way up K2 and they said he’d been totally cool – he’d brought vodka and stuff for them to share. Bunking up with Gould wouldn’t be like being with a group of mates, but it wasn’t the disaster it had first looked.

I’d already planned to share with a friend of mine called Simon and this other guy I knew called Ed. Sharing with Gould might be a lot more bearable if one of them would come in with me: the idea of sharing with a teacher and a guy I hardly knew made me want to suggest that I sleep on the coach. I mean, it would have just been totally dull.

Well I looked around and saw Ed trying to disappear into the crowd. So much for solidarity. But then Simon patted me on the back and said, “You still wanna share, Seb?”

So it turned out that Simon and I bunked up with Gould.

We were told to put our bags in our rooms before we’d be given something to eat. Simon was given the key and we went into the dormitory block to find where we’d be sleeping.

The place looked pretty basic, with cold stone floors and breeze block walls in the corridors. The staircases were metal. Some of the lights flickered and buzzed. One of the lads joked that we’d come to sample life in the First World War at first hand.

When Simon and I got into our room, though, it was a lot better. Not great, but it looked almost palatial compared with the sparsity of the corridors and exterior. The room must have originally been square but a large rectangle of it had been converted into an en-suite shower room. There were three beds, all looking like hospital beds from the sixties and a forlorn curtain hanging in the window. The floor was tiled and a threadbare mat lay ruffled in the centre of it.

Simon went for the bed on the far wall. He put his shoulder bag down near the pillow and then sat on the mattress. The bed creaked with his weight.

He said, “Well, it’s no Buckingham Palace …”

I took the bed against the wall of the en-suite shower room. I sat on it and it creaked like his.

Then the door opened and Mr Gould came in.

He flashed us a smile. He looked tired but amused. He slung his rucksack onto the remaining bed near the window. Then he sat down on it with a creak.

I guess Simon and I just stared at him mournfully. He faked a glum face, an impersonation of ours.

Then he smiled again: a warm, genuine smile. “I’m not that unbearable am I?”

Simon said, “It’s not that, Sir.”

Gould looked at him. He seemed to consider the comment as if Simon had uttered some profound revelation. After a few moments, he said, “Well I think the ‘Sir’ stuff isn’t going to help.”

We both gawped at him.

He continued, looking at the mat on the floor, “I mean, we’re sharing a room by necessity… surely it’s not such a big deal…”

He looked at each of us in turn, like he needed encouragement. I don’t think he got any.

He went on, “But – you know – just do what you would normally do… this is your space, you can regard me as the intruder. So, well, while we’re in here, you can call me Brendon. And you can do what you’d normally do. No punishments. No detentions and stuff.”

We stared at him.

Then Simon said, “Seriously?”

Gould smiled. His face was covered with a light brown fuzz of stubble. He said, “Yeah. This is your room. One of the staff made a balls up. So my being here isn’t your fault.”

I smiled. I liked him. I said, “Cool!”

He stood up and unzipped his backpack. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, gents, I wanna get cleaned up before we eat…”

We both just sat there, gobsmacked. A teacher letting us call him by his first name!

Gould pulled off his fleece. He was wearing a white teeshirt underneath it. His chest looked well-built and his nipples poked outwards inside it. The guy did a lot of climbing and it showed.

Simon got up and took his alarm clock out of his bag. Positioning it on the stool next to his bed, he said, “Who’s first for a cigarette then?”

Gould sat down on his bed again. He undid the laces in his black Doctor Martin boots, smiling as he did so. “Like you’d do that if I wasn’t here…”

Simon turned to him and grinned. “You said we could do whatever we liked.”

Gould pulled off his left boot. His blue sock looked damp as he unrolled it from his foot. He explained, “No. I said you could do whatever you’d normally do. Smoking in the hostel room wouldn’t be the kind of thing two smart lads like you two would get up to…”

I was fiddling with my bag, transferring some of the Belgian Francs I’d changed on the ferry into one of the concealed pockets in it. I glanced up at Gould and, with a semi-serious look on my face, said, “We might bring a girl back, Brendon.”

Gould pulled off his right boot and then rolled down his other sock. Standing up again, he started undoing his belt. He nodded thoughtfully. “Well… if you can find any signs of female life around here, bring one back for me too…”

He unzipped his jeans and then pulled them down his legs. His legs were muscular and lightly haired. He kicked his jeans off and then turned to fumble in his rucksack for his toiletries bag. He was wearing navy blue briefs. His arse cheeks looked solid and round inside them.

Simon sat back on his bed and started taking his deodorant and stuff out of his bag. He said, “Whatever would Mrs Gould say?”

Gould fished out his toiletries bag and turned around. He grinned, “What Mrs Gould doesn’t know…” Then he walked towards the shower room. I noticed that he filled the front of briefs quite impressively.

I looked at Simon and smirked. I said, “The way these beds creak, I don’t think we’ll even get away with a quick hand shandy.” Simon just stared at me.

Gould called out from the bathroom, “If you wanna twang your wang, Seb, you are more than welcome.”

I laughed at his comment. Simon looked slightly embarrassed.

I heard a sound like pouring water from the shower room. I realised Brendon was taking a piss. He’d left the bathroom door open and the sounds of his piss were noisy and unashamed.

Gould called out, “We’d better get some oil for the bedsprings, eh?”

I laughed again. “Yeah. Yours included.”

Gould laughed loudly. “Too right, mate.”

Gould’s loud stream of piss turned into a few sporadic dribbles and then I heard him switch the shower on. I was impressed by Gould’s openness in talking about masturbation. Every generation thinks they discovered it and it’s always a surprise to hear older people talk openly and non-judgementally about it.

Gould walked back into the room. I glanced up at him: he’d taken off his teeshirt and briefs and was naked. He walked over to his bag muttering, “Shampoo… did I remember it…?”

I looked at his arse again as he searched through his rucksack. It was a small arse: the cheeks were very round and obviously muscular but small and pert.

He found his shampoo and then turned to walk back into the bathroom.

I looked at his cock. It was the first time I’d seen the cock of one my teachers up close. It was fairly large: probably about the same size as my own when I’m limp. It hung down and looked pale and thick. His foreskin was pulled back from his bell-end slightly and I could see the slit. It looked damp from his piss.

I looked at his balls behind his cock. They looked small, nestling in the thick curls of his light brown pubic hair.

He made a coughing sound. I looked at his face. He was staring at me: watching me watching his cock. He grinned broadly, showing his clean white teeth.

He said, “What are you guys doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready? I mean, cleaning up and stuff?”

I took my gloves out of my bag and slipped them in my coat pockets. I said, “Well -ah – I’m gonna eat as I am. No point in getting dolled up if there’s no-one who’ll notice.”

Gould smiled and then walked back into the shower room.

I was surprised by the way he walked around naked in front of us, without shame or embarrassment. It was a pleasant surprise, though: I wasn’t shocked or disgusted or anything. At school, when I’d shared a room with another boy, we both wore our towels around our waists when we were going to and from the bathroom. Even pulled on our briefs beneath the security of a towel or dressing gown. To do anything other might be seen as “gay”.

But here was Brendon Gould, married and yet obviously comfortable with intimacy between himself and other men, totally relaxed about his body and his nudity in front of two lads ten years younger than him.

Simon and I left our bags on our beds and left Brendon getting into the shower.

When we were having our meal with some of the other guys, Simon made a comment about Gould asking for oil for the bedsprings. Most of the lads found that quite funny. One of them, a football player who we always called Dobby, said, “Well, when nature calls, huh?”

Simon said, trying to sound cool, “Ugh. Totally gross.”

But Dobby didn’t see like that. “Guys do it. Big deal.”

Simon smirked. “Yeah, but not – like – teachers.”

Dobby was dismissive. “Gould’s okay. He goes hiking up Everest and stuff. Four guys in a tent. I guess that’s made him pretty relaxed around other men.”

This other mate of ours called Martin said, “Yeah it’s just another bodily function…”

Simon shook his head. “I don’t want to share any bodily functions with another guy…”

Dobby rolled his eyes like he was impatient. “Jesus. Grow up, little boy.” Then he immediately changed the conversation. Simon looked pissed off.

After the meal, the teachers went to the bar and Simon and I went to this guy Matt’s room to smoke and complain to each other about how boring the trip had turned out.

At about ten to eleven, one of the guys we were with said, sneeringly, “Shouldn’t you guys be getting back to teacher – ‘Lights out at eleven, boys!'”

I said, “Gould’s okay. He said we should treat the room like he wasn’t there.”

Matt breathed out smoke from his cigarette through his nose. He said, “Yeah he’s alright. Pretty cool.”

Simon took the opportunity to mention masturbation again. He seemed kind of obsessed by it. I’d noticed a few times during the evening that he tried to steer the topic back around to Gould and his bed springs comment.

He said, “Yeah. He said we could wank off and stuff. Like he’d enjoy watching us.”

This lad called Jed said, “Jeez Simes. Calm down. Take deep breaths, man.”

Simon looked pissed off again. “What?”

Jed explained, “The guy’s away from his wife. He gets hard-ons. He needs to have a wank. He probably told you guys that you could do it as well to make him feel less hung-up about it. Where’s the problem, Simon?”

Simon looked down. He shrugged. “I dunno… just seems weird…”

Matt said, “When your balls drop, Simes, and you starting pullin’ your pecker yourself, you’ll understand…”

Simon smouldered, staring at the carpet. His face was pink.

Then Matt’s cigarette fell onto the bed and singed the blankets and the conversation changed to how we could hide the burn mark.

Simon and I got back to the room at about midnight. Gould was still out, maybe in the bar, or maybe he’d gone round to room of another of the younger teachers for a drink.

Simon and I undressed down to our teeshirts and briefs and got into our beds.

Sitting up against the wall, with his duvet around him, Simon said, “That stuff about wanking… I’m not like totally freaked out or anything… I just…”

He paused and seemed unable to continue.

I asked him, “Are you like Catholic or something?”

He said, “No. Why? Don’t they do it?”

“I don’t think so. Well, the devout ones don’t.”

Simon shook his head, “No – it’s not that. I mean, I wank off and stuff. It’s just… I never did it in front of other guys…”

“You must have shared a room at school in the third form or last year?”

“Yeah, but I went to the john to do it. Or while the other guy was asleep…”

I smiled. I found his inhibitions quite cute. He was normally as open and crude about sexual things as the rest of us – he sang rugby songs as loudly as others in the school team – and yet here he was being coy and secretive about something as mundane as masturbation.

He asked, “Have you ever done it in front of someone else?”

At the risk of him branding me as “gay”, I decided to be honest. “Yeah. When I shared a room. And with my brother a couple of times.”

He thought about what I’d said. He gave a sheepish smile. “I guess it’s no big deal, really.”

I had to smile again. I’d never talked about masturbation with anyone before. My four or so years of experience of it was restricted to solitary explorations and piecing together what I could about the techniques from school yard jokes and watching my older brother’s fumblings under the duvet when we’d shared a room on holiday.

I said, “I’ve never really thought about it being anything – you know – significant.”

“Yeah. I dunno…” He paused for a few seconds and then asked, “Would you, like, do it in front of Gould?”

I said, “Well – if I get a hard-on, yeah, probably… I mean, he doesn’t seem too hung up about it.”

Simon looked downwards. He muttered, “Yeah. Maybe I would, then. I dunno…”

I had to laugh at him. He looked over at me, a slightly hurt expression on his face. I said, “Sorry, Simon. Sorry. It’s just – you know. It’s like deliberating on whether we’re going to take a piss over the next three days…”

He looked down again. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry.”

I said, “We’re three guys. We all have dicks. We all get hard-ons. We all wank. That’s it. Period.”

Simon smiled. “Yeah. I suppose it saves us – ah – hiding the spunk stains…”

I think we talked a bit more before turning off the light. Gould didn’t come back and I thought he was maybe sleeping on the floor in the room of another teacher to give us some space. But just as I was getting off to sleep – it must have been about one o’clock or something – I heard him come in, undress and get into his bed. The three of us lay there in the darkness and I drifted back off.

The next thing I became aware of was Gould going on about the alarm not going off and that we were late. I opened my eyes and saw that he was out of bed.

He said, “Come on you guys. Wakey wakey. We’re late.”

I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes. Then I got my legs out of the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. I felt absolutely knackered. Simon groaned.

Gould pulled off his teeshirt, saying, “Come on! We’ve like fifteen minutes before the coach goes…” Simon groaned again.

I asked, my voice sounding husky, “What about breakfast?”

Gould pulled down his briefs. His cock was semi-hard. It was very thick – much thicker than mine and pointed outwards from his body at an angle of about forty-five degrees. His foreskin was pulled back, revealing about half of his dry, pink bell-end.

He said, “Just a glass of water this morning, mate.” Then he looked at me looking on his cock. I guess I looked totally groggy, my eyes still struggling to open fully. He said, “Yeah – er – forgive the morning woody, boys. Not really what you wanna wake up to…”

I had to smile. I croaked, “I’m not really hungry now…”

Gould laughed and walked into the shower room. He called out, “Come on, lads. You can’t just lie there. You better get in here and clean up…”

I got out of bed. My cock was rock hard: I don’t know who I’d been dreaming of, but she must have been hot. I pulled off my teeshirt, telling Simon to get up. He just lay there, groaning and rubbing his eyes.

Then I decided to pull off my briefs. I thought that, since Gould had been so unashamed about his morning hard-on, it might be kind of cool to show my own off. I pulled them off, releasing my cock to arch upwards in its full eight-inch glory. I wondered how Simon would take it: I thought it would be quite funny if he turned out to be as shocked about morning stiffies as he had been about masturbation.

He rubbed his eyes, muttering, “You take a shower first.” Then he glanced over at me, “Fucking hell!” He didn’t look shocked: he just laughed groggily.

I said, “Breakfast is served!”

“You fucking wish…”

I walked into the bathroom.

Gould was shaving at the sink. He said, “We’ve got like ten minutes, guys.”

Then he looked over at me through the mirror and let out a laugh. “You’d better make that a cold shower, Seb.”

I turned on the shower and waited for the water to warm up. I was struck by how unexpectedly good it felt to stand there in front of him with my cock rigid and proud.

I said, “I wish I could remember what I was dreaming about.”

He laughed again, shaving his top lip. “Yeah. It’s always the case…”

I noticed that his cock was dangling downwards by now, its tip occasionally touching the rim of the sink as he bent forwards to look at his face in the mirror. It was still fairly chunky – still much thicker than it had looked the previous day – but he was obviously losing his erection.

When the water felt warm, I got into the shower and let it pour over me, feeling myself starting to wake up. The pressure of the jets of water on my exposed bell-end felt fantastic and my cock swelled, seeming to strain to get even harder.

Gould was talking about camping in the Himalayas . “… four guys in a tent. All of us with morning hard-ons… trying to get dressed on all fours…”

I laughed and started washing my hair. “Could get kind of painful, I guess…”

He called out, “Huh?”

I said, “Well – you know. Bending over to reach for your briefs… the guy behind you getting too close…”

He laughed. “Yeah. Right. Good way to wake a guy up, though.”

I started washing my chest, stomach and cock, lathering shower gel into my pubic hair. Since the door of the cubicle was made of glass, I was careful not to make any overtly masturbatory movements around my cock. But the jets of water raining down. I called out, “You could try it on Simon. He’s having trouble waking up…”

He laughed again. “Naah – you can do the honours there. You’re more – shall we say – tooled up for it, mate.”

I looked out through the shower door and saw Gould looking at my cock as he was rinsing his razor. Now it was my turn to laugh. “Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got a nice big tool for that job…”

Gould smiled as he packed his razor away. “Hurry up in the shower Seb. I need to get in too…”

I rinsed myself off, switched off the shower and then stepped out of the cubicle. My cock was still stiff, still throbbing and curving towards the ceiling. Gould passed me my towel and then walked over to the shower stall and turned it back on.

As I was drying my hair Gould stood outside of the shower, waiting for the water temperature to stabilise again, and looked at my cock again. He shook his head, “Can’t you – like – switch it off or something?”

I smiled at him: I was enjoying the attention. He smiled back, still shaking his head. I started drying my back and my arse, sticking my hips out towards him, my hard cock bobbing around in front of me. He kept looking at it, staring at my gingery-blond pubic hair, at my heavy swinging balls and at my arched erection.

I noticed that his cock was semi-hard again: standing out from his balls and looking thicker. He saw me glance at it and smirked at me as he got into the shower.

Simon walked into the bathroom looking pretty rough. He was still wearing the black Red Hot Chilli Peppers teeshirt he’d slept in and a pair of white briefs. His hair was all over the place and his chin had a shadow of dark stubble. He groaned something about the coach having pulled up outside. His voice sounded like he had a bad case of laryngitis.

I started drying myself off, rubbing my chest and stomach with the towel.

Simon ignored me and staggered over to the sink to look in the mirror. He said, “Fucking hell. I look worse than I feel.” He started filling the sink with water and fumbled around for his razor and shaving gel. Then he took off his teeshirt and threw it down. He glanced at Gould through the glass of shower cubicle door and then over at me drying myself. He seemed to give an unintentional shrug, as if thinking to himself, “What the hell, and then turned back to the mirror, pulled down his briefs and kicked them off.

His arse was white and smooth, the cheeks looking almost feminine as they curved outwards from the small of his back. There was just a suggestion of fine hairs poking out from the lower part of his cleft.

Gould called out from the shower, “Just give me a minute in here, Simes, then it’s all yours.”

Simon said, “No problem Sir.”

He turned off the tap and started washing his face, splashing handfuls of water into his eyes and wetting his hair.

Gould called out, “My name’s Brendon.” I looked over at him. He was washing around his cock, lathering soap into pubes. It looked limp again, dangling and bobbing around as he washed himself, but retained its thickness.

Simon stopped washing his face and stared at himself in the mirror, smoothing his hair down with his wet hands. Then, as it dawned on him what Gould meant, he muttered, “Oh yeah. Sorry Sir – ah – Brendon. I’m so tired I can’t even think.”

He turned to pick up his towel and I saw that his thin cock was soft and hung down over the top of his hairy balls. His foreskin was much longer than his bell-end and made a puckered nozzle at the end of his cock. I just got a glimpse of it but it looked a bit weird to me.

Gould called out, “Maybe he needs waking up, eh Seb?”

At first I didn’t know what he meant; I’d forgotten what we’d been talking about.

Simon grunted, “Huh?”

Gould switched off the shower and opened the door. He grabbed his towel and started drying his hair. Beads of water ran down his lightly haired chest and tight muscular stomach, trickling in a stream from the end of his cock and making his pubic hair matt together like a brown dripping icicle under his balls. He said, “Seb thought up a pretty effective method of waking a guy up…” He looked over at me and smiled.

I understood Gould’s meaning and put my towel down. My cock had lost some of its hardness but still rose upwards from my balls.

Simon smeared shaving gel into his fine stubble, lathering it up. Picking up his razor and warming it under the tap, he said, “Yeah?”

Gould said, “Yeah. A new use for a morning woodie…”

Simon started shaving his face with exaggerated concentration. Gould winked at me and pointed at Simon’s pale arse. Then he looked back at my cock, grinning. He started drying his armpits.

I smiled back at him and threw down my towel. I walked over to Simon saying, “Yeah, I just thought, you know, all of us guys… in a crowded space…” Simon kept shaving his chin, making slow deliberate strokes. “Accidents might happen…”

I thrust my cock, which had now risen again to full attention, into Simon’s crack. It shot straight between his cheeks and I had time to make a few jabs into his cleft before he pulled forward.

He shouted, “Fuck! You dirty fucker! I can’t fucking believe you did that!”

Gould laughed loudly. Simon glared at me through the mirror and then glared at Gould. Gould kept laughing, drying his back and his arse distractedly. He said, “Did he get a hole in one, Simes?”

Simon looked a bit shocked at his comment but then tried to smile to conceal his displeasure. He muttered, “Jesus. Next time you wanna wake me up, bring me a coffee…”

I sprayed myself with deodorant, glancing at Gould’s dick which had risen to an angle of about forty-five degrees again.

Simon looked at Gould and then flashed me a very dirty look. “You’re both so sad. I can’t believe what you just did…”

Gould laughed again. He said, “Hey, take it easy, Simes. It was just a joke.”

Simon tried to smile, washing his razor under the tap. He said, “I can’t believe you’ve got a boner, Seb.”

Gould laughed, “It’s a morning stiffy. If you wake up with other guys, you’re gonna see a few…”

Simon said curtly, “I don’t expect to get them pushed into my bum.”

Gould walked towards me grinning broadly. His cock was now almost fully erect. It was pretty amazing: about eight inches long, as thick as a boy’s wrist and as straight as a ruler. Its large, round purple head swayed from side to side as he walked. I couldn’t believe that this guy who’d taught me maths in the third form would have such a monster cock: I don’t go looking at guys’ bulges but you’d think he’d have had difficulty concealing that thing in the front of his trousers.

When he was right in front of me, Gould said, “Hey Simes – if I poke Seb with my morning stalk, he’s not gonna get freaked out, are you Seb?”

I looked down at our cocks. His, fat and straight; mine, thin and curved. Both of us about the same length. Both of us hard and almost visibly throbbing.

I looked back at Gould’s face and smiled. Then he thrust his cock into mine so that it made a loud slapping sound.

I said, “You lookin’ for a fight or something…”

He smirked. Then we frantically jabbed our cocks into each other so that they looked like they were wrestling. Our balls jumped around and our bell-ends kept smacking into each other. We were laughing like a couple of kids. Then my cock accidentally poked into his scrotum and he jumped back shouting, “Whoa, whoa! That’s fightin’ dirty, mate…”

We stood staring at each other, grinning broadly and getting our breath back. Gould’s face was getting a bit pink. Mine felt like it was getting warmer too. Then I looked over to Simon who was staring at us: he’d finished shaving and was just standing looking at us with his towel in front of him.

Gould called over to him, “When you’re in a small space with other guys, you’ve gotta expect a bit of bodily contact…”

Simon said, “Yeah, I guess. Not in the arse though.”

Gould laughed again. “Jesus Simes. It’s no big deal. Seriously mate. I’ve camped with so many guys… up on Everest with lads not much older that you. We’ve pissed together, wanked together, taken dumps together… it’s just called getting comfortable with intimacy, mate.”

I said, “It was only meant as a joke.”

Gould picked up his can of deodorant and sprayed his chest and armpits. He said, “Well if it’s such a big deal, Simes, why don’t you do it back to him?”

I grinned. “Yeah, whatever. I don’t give a toss.”

Simon shook his head and turned to switch on the shower. He kept his towel in front of him like he wanted to conceal his cock. He muttered ironically, “Kind offer – but I’ll give your arse a miss this once, Seb.”

I shrugged and then bent over to pick up my discarded towel.

Gould said, “I wouldn’t refuse…” Then, before I could stand up, he ran up behind me, grabbed my hips and then thrust his cock into my arse crack with rapid, jabbing movements.

Unlike Simon, I found this pretty funny. I stayed bending and cried out, “Ah yeah Sir! Give it to me!” and faked exaggerated sounds of orgasm.

Gould laughed uproariously and then pulled back from. I stood up and looked over at Simon who was staring at us wide-eyed. His towel was still in front of him and, from the way it tented outwards from his crotch, it was obvious that he was as stiff as Gould and I.

Gould said, still laughing, “That was slightly too convincing Seb. I’m not going to ask what you get up to after lights out in the dorm.”

I joked back, “You don’t have to ask, I’ll sell you some Polaroids if you’re interested…”

Gould laughed again. Simon called over, “You two are so sad,” and then turned to get into the shower.

I looked at Gould’s cock. A light brown curly hair was stuck to his throbbing, fat bell-end: one of the hairs from around my arsehole.

I grinned and said, “I think he’s growing a beard, Brendon.”

He looked quizzical and then followed my gaze down to his cock. He smiled. “Yeah. At least I didn’t go deep enough for anything worse…”

I smiled back. Then, as we both looked at his cock, a bead of precum oozed slowly out of his reddened piss slit. It stayed on the end of his cock, a tiny clear sphere, until he reached down and, apparently unintentionally, brushed it off with his thumb as he removed my anal hair from his bell-end.

I looked back up at his face and he looked at me. Neither of us said anything. Then I picked up my towel and Gould walked over to the sink, his big cock swaying around in front of him as he walked.

As he rubbed some gel into his hair, Gould called in to Simon, “Hey, if you touch that thing much more it’ll go off…”

Simon was silent. I glanced in at him and, despite his attempts to conceal it from us, it was obvious through the glass panel of the cubicle that his cock was erect. It looked shorter than my own – about six inches, maybe – but about the same thickness. He was rinsing the lather out of his pubic hair and, I’d guess from Gould’s comment, his washing of it had been a little too enthusiastic and prolonged.

Gould called in, “I don’t mind you wanking, mate, but we haven’t got time…”

Simon muttered, “Yeah yeah yeah.” He sounded irritated.

I walked back into the bedroom and started getting ready. Just then there was a knock on the door. A voice, it sounded like Dobby, called in, “Hey you guys! We’re waiting for you!”

I shouted, “Yeah – give us like two minutes.”

He called in, “What are you guys doing in there? I knocked a couple of minutes ago…”

I shouted, “We’re buttfucking.” I suddenly thought that it may not be Dobby outside: it may be one of the staff who may not find my crudeness so funny. But then I heard laughter. He said, “Well give him one from me Seb!”

Gould walked out of the bathroom and called to person behind the door, “It seems like Seb is more practiced at being on the receiving end.”

There was more laughter and then Dobby called in, “Well hurry up and finish off Sir. The coach is waiting.”

We got dressed quickly and Gould kept calling in to Simon to hasten him out of the shower. I noticed that he had trouble fitting his still semi-hard cock into his briefs as he pulled them on. In the end he directed along the waistband – pointing it towards his hip. He looked at me watching his efforts and smiled, “Like trying to fit a tank into a garage…”

I said, “I know the problem well…”

He smiled again, and started pulling on a sock.

Simon came out of the bathroom, naked and obviously getting used to being in that state in front of two other guys. His cock was limp again, looking thin and pink, and part of his reddened bell-end poked out from his foreskin like he’d been masturbating in the shower after Gould and I had left the room. He strolled unashamedly towards his bed and then bent over to pick a clean pair of briefs out from his holdall.

Then, still bending, he smiled over at me, and said, “This isn’t an invitation Seb.” I smiled back, noticing that his balls hung down beneath his slightly slightly parted buttocks and that the red tip of his cock was visible in front of them.

We finished off getting dressed, wrapping up well for our visits to the trenches, and then hurried out to the coach.

 

Part 2

13th March 2002: The boys and their teacher share some late night banter on the school trip to Belgium…

We got back late from visiting the trenches and the Second World War Museum. We’d eaten out in Brussels and then gone to see this surreal play about life under Nazi rule. The teachers said we’d been quite lucky that the play had been running at exactly the same time as our visit. The students had a rather different opinion.

We got back to the hostel at about half past ten.

Simon and I went up to Dobby’s room with a load of other lads for a smoke and to slag the trip off. This guy Jed claimed that he and a few other guys had sneaked out of the play and gone to a bar. They’d bought a few drinks, he said, and got it together with some Belgian girls. He made vague inferences about what they’d done afterwards, clearly hoping for questions from us, but the whole story seemed so highly improbable that none of us even bothered to acknowledge that he’s spoken.

At about half past eleven, I felt tired and said I was going to get off to bed. The others made jokes about Mr Gould needing to tuck me in, but I really felt shattered from the long and day and said my goodnights. Simon said he’d come too and the two of us wandered back to our room.

Gould was getting undressed when we got back. He’d just got back from having a few drinks with Mr Vaughan, one of the other young teachers accompanying us on the trip. The two of them seemed to be big mates and had run a couple of hiking trips together with groups of lads from the fifth form.

Simon and I followed his lead and started undressing. We talked a bit about the trip and how it wasn’t quite turning out as we’d anticipated with Gould grinning and nodding. After a while of listening to us winging, he said, “Well, I figure if you come on a history trip, you’ve got to expect a bit of… ah… history!”

I turned to him and smiled. “I just expected… you know… other stuff as well…”

Gould pulled down his trousers, revealing his pale grey briefs. They clung tightly to him and emphasized the bulk of his cock and balls bulging inside the front of them. Throwing his trousers across to his pile of clothes near his rucksack, he looked over at me and asked, “Girls, you mean…?”

Pulling off my boots, I nodded.

Gould took off his shirt and was wearing a tight dark blue vest underneath. It clung to his muscular chest and, although I was uncomfortable about finding other guys attractive when I was fifteen, I had to admit to myself that the guy looked pretty hot standing in front of us in his underwear.

He got onto his bed and sat on it, facing us and with his back to the wall. His legs were open and his feet were on the edge of the mattress so that we could see the front of his briefs splayed open and the gusset between his legs, connecting the front of them with the back. The paired mounds of his balls and the thicker rod of his cock were clearly defined inside them. He said, “Actually – and you guys can take the piss all you like – I kind of like being mainly around other guys for a few days.”

Simon pulled down his jeans. His briefs were a dark red colour. He chuckled and said, “That sounds pretty weird…”

Gould looked quizzical. “What’s weird about wanting to get away from women for a few days? It’s good for guys to get together sometimes…”

Simon sat down on the edge of his own bed wearing a black Placebo teeshirt as well as his maroon briefs. His cock and balls looked small and almost inconsequential inside them in comparison with the more developed bulge inside Gould’s underwear. He said, “Yeah. I can go with that. It’s just that other stuff you said this morning… I think it’s a bit… you know… bizarre.”

Gould looked over at me. I finished pushing my socks into my holdall and sat down on my bed. Like Gould, I sat right back on the mattress with my back against the wall. I opened my legs, aware that my briefs were as tight as Gould’s and that the outlines of my balls and cock would be obvious inside them. I was well built in that area and unashamed about showing them off, just as Gould was doing.

Gould grinned over at me. Then he turned back to Simon and asked him, “What do you mean? What other stuff?”

Simon said, “Well… you know… what you said this morning about being up Everest, wanking off with other guys in the tent and stuff.”

Gould smiled, “It’s hardly weird. When guys are alone, they need to relieve themselves. It’s a fact of life, mate.”

Simon said, “Yeah but in private. Not together.”

Gould thought about this. Then he explained, “Most men seem to like to do it lying down. The natural place is therefore a bed. If you’re sharing a room or a tent with other guys, you can’t always wait til they’re all asleep. So there bound to be the odd time when a few guys do it together.”

Simon looked sceptical but intrigued. He moved back on his mattress, sitting with his back to the wall as Gould and I were. He opened his legs so that I could see that, between his legs, the material of his briefs was pinched slightly inside his arse crack. Then he continued, “I guess… but how does it start? I mean, do you just say, ‘Okay guys. Wank time.'”

Gould and I chuckled. Gould shook his head, then said, “If it happens, it happens. It’d be kind of bizarre to make an announcement. Usually, after the light’s been switched off and the conversation has died down, someone will try to discretely play with himself in his sleeping bag. And that gives everyone else a cue to join in if they feel like it.”

Simon asked, “And you do it with guys from the school?”

“If we share together, yeah. I let them start it first. I’m not going to lie there in front of my students, giving them a solitary show. But if one or two of the lads want to pull themselves off, I’d join in if I felt like it.”

“It’s no big deal, Simon,” I agreed.

Gould laughed. He casually adjusted his cock inside his briefs. “Yeah. If that’d shock you, Simes, some of the stuff that happens on these trips would make your hair curl.”

I laughed too. “Like what?”

He said, “Well…” and then he shook his head and became coy. “No. It’s private. Stuff between guys is their own business…”

I looked at Simon, wondering whether to let the topic drop. But he looked as interested as I was, so I pressed Gould for more. “It’s not like I’m wanting names. I’m just interested to know…”

Gould shook his head again. “Suffice to say that some guys help each other out a bit…”

Simon protested, “I wouldn’t be shocked by that. I mean, if you’re gonna wank together, I guess it’s the obvious thing to do.” He looked over at me and I saw that his cheeks were turning slightly pink like he wasn’t so sure about what he was saying as he thought he would be. I smiled and nodded to show him I agreed with him. He finished off, more hesitant, “Sort of like… doing a favour… to get one back… isn’t it…?”

Gould said, “Yeah. I’ve no issues with it. I just thought you might have.”

Simon shook his head. “Not really. I mean, I dunno if I’d do it myself, but I wouldn’t have a problem with it happening in my tent.”

I nodded, smiling. “Sounds kind of weird. But maybe fun.”

Gould said, “You’d join in, would you, Seb?”

I laughed. “I dunno. I’m not gay…”

Gould chuckled. “Most guys I’ve been climbing and stuff with haven’t been. I guess it’s not about that. It’s just being comfortable with other guys and trusting them… accepting each other’s mutual needs. Stuff like that.”

Simon said, “Yeah… I guess… I suppose it’s pretty much given that that kind of stuff’s gonna happen when guys are coupled up together with no girls…”

Gould grinned. “Like we are, you mean?”

Simon smiled but looked embarrassed. “Well – I dunno…”

I wanted to provoke Gould into giving me a few more details. I asked, trying to adopt a look of unconcerned interest, “So, have you ever done anything like that?”

He looked at me, smiling. I maintained my expression, trying to look curious but not amused or – worse – fascinated. He said, “Depends what level we’re talking about…”

“What do you mean? Level?”

He kept smiling and looked more sheepish. He glanced at Simon, like he was afraid of offending him. Then he explained, “Well – are we talking about trading hand-jobs, mouth-jobs or…” He looked at Simon again, still smiling slightly. Then finished, “… arse-jobs?”

Simon half-laughed, half-gagged, “Ugh disgusting! Jesus!”

Gould laughed. “What? You just said trading favours was natural, Simes…”

Simon kept laughing. “Yeah, but not that! I was on about wanking each other off!”

I was more curious than amused. I asked, more seriously, “Is that kind of stuff common among normal guys?”

Gould was still grinning broadly, clearly very entertained by the conversation we were having. I noticed that his cock had lengthened significantly inside his briefs. “If you mean among heterosexual guys, well… I don’t think it’s common. But I think it goes on a fair amount when guys are camping together. Being away from family, friends and everything that’s familiar. Needing a bit of company, a bit of intimacy with someone else. I guess if there were girls on the trips, there’d be stuff going on between them. Since there usually aren’t, the lads just make do with each other.”

Simon was still stunned. “Jesus!”

Gould laughed again. “I said I’d make your hair curl, mate.”

Then I asked, smiling now, “And what about my question… have you ever done anything like – you know – what you called ‘arse-jobs’?”

Gould grinned at me. “Not that, no. Not that I think it’s disgusting: I just never did it.”

I said, “But other guys have done it.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“What, in your tent?”

Gould still smiled but didn’t say anything. He looked like he was thinking. After a few seconds he said, “This goes no further right… I mean, the guys left last year but… I dunno… they might have brothers in the school or something…”

I nodded. He looked at Simon. He said, “Go on. I don’t even know any of last year’s upper sixth…”

Gould nodded. “Okay. It was a three man tent. Me and these two lads from the sixth form were sharing it. Two good guys, a good laugh to be with, strong climbers. I know one of them had a girlfriend and I think the other one did. They were both straight as nails anyway.

“A couple of nights in, though, and I woke up in the night. It was pretty late and we’d had a few to drink before we crashed out. I just lay there, listening to the noise of the wind against the sides of the tent, but – gradually – I became aware of a different sound coming from inside the tent. A kind of regular, rhythmic sound… sort of wet…”

He paused, looking at us with mischievous eyes.

I looked at Simon. He looked as fascinated as I was. So I urged Gould to continue.

“Well, I guess I just supposed that one of them was wanking. It was black dark, remember. I couldn’t see a thing. But then I heard one of them say, “Hurry up, I want a go.” The noise continued, getting a bit faster. A wet slapping sound… it continued for a couple of minutes, regular and at the same speed.”

“Then the other guy said, “Okay. Your turn.” There was a slurping noise and then fumbling sounds, like the two of them were moving around inside the tent. One of them accidentally kicked me. Then I heard the squirt of a bottle and sounds like cream or lotion being smoothed onto skin. Then a gasp.”

Gould stopped and grinned. “Need I say more?”

Simon laughed but I wasn’t satisfied by Gould’s ending. It was inconclusive. I needed more. I protested, “They could have been doing anything! I mean – what makes you so sure they were…?”

Gould nodded adamantly. “They were.”

I asked, “How do you know?”

He said, “You mean apart from the noise, and the smell…”

I nodded, totally absorbed by the image in my mind. Simon said, “Yeah, but guys sweat when they wank. So the smell means nothing…”

Gould said, “It wasn’t just sweat…”

Simon looked puzzled. I was amazed at his naivety.

Gould laughed. “When guys go doing that kind of thing to each other’s arses – there’s a smell of something other than sweat…”

Simon looked horrified. “Jesus… fuck! Sorry sir, but… that’s totally gross.”

Gould said, “Well it wasn’t really strong. But it was there. Kind of unmistakable.”

I said, “Yeah but that’s still not proof. I mean, there’s no showers up there… they might have just been a bit… well… worse for wear…”

Gould smiled. “They were doing it, Seb. Believe me.”

He glanced at my briefs and held his smile, clearly inspecting the obvious bulge of my lengthening cock. I didn’t try to hide it: Gould’s cock was also developing inside his underpants, growing slowly but clearly thicker and longer. He didn’t seem too concerned to conceal his excitement, so I didn’t see why I ought to be ashamed of mine.

Simon said, “Yeah, but you can’t be certain they were actually… you know.. screwing…”

Gould nodded and remained steadfast. “They were. I know they were.”

So I said, “How?”

He looked at me, grinning guiltily. “I kind of… well… I shone my torch at them.”

Simon looked delighted. “What made you do that?”

Gould said, “Well – like you two – I wanted to know. I was curious…”

He paused so I said, “And…?”

“Well, they were doing it.”

“What? The full works?”

“Yeah. One of them was on all fours and the other guy was on his back, humping him like a dog.”

Simon and I looked at each other, amused and surprised. I said, “And was it – you know – inside…”

Gould nodded. “I could see it sliding in and out. And hear it. So there’s no doubt.” He grinned.

Simon looked totally fascinated. “And what did they do then? When you shone your torch at them?”

Gould chuckled. “Well that was the most bizarre thing. They were totally without shame or embarrassment. They just carried on. I guess I must have just stared at them because the one on top turned to me and said something like, ‘When nature calls, sir!’ Then he laughed, but just kept on going.

“I mean, I’m not saying guys shouldn’t do it. There’s been loads of other times when I’ve heard lads getting into each others’ sleeping bags and then tell-tale noises and groans. And when I’ve found condoms and stuff. But the weird thing was that those two guys used each other’s bums like they’d use their hands – with no hang-ups about it.”

Simon asked, “What about next day? Did they say anything about it?”

“No. They were totally relaxed about it. They didn’t act like boyfriends or anything; in fact they didn’t really hang around together that much. I guess they just saw it as a way of getting off. We shared the tent for ten days or so and, if I didn’t fall asleep as soon as we turned the light off, I’d usually be aware that they were doing it. They didn’t take anything off. They just pulled their briefs down to the tops of their thighs.”

I noticed that Gould’s cock was now pretty clearly fully erect inside his briefs. My own was definitely well on the way to getting into that state, bulging outwards from my briefs and making an obvious stiffening rod inside the material of them. Gould looked over at me and grinned. He was totally blatant about checking out my hard-on so I had no scruples about looking at his.

Then something occurred to me, something I had to find out about. I dismissed a couple of questions as being too obvious, too clearly revealing my own thought-processes. But then I thought of one that seemed more ambiguous and so asked, “And I guess it kind of put you off your own… matters-in-hand…?”

He said, “Uh?”

“Well, you said you sometimes wank in the tent with other guys…”

“Yeah. I don’t have a problem with it. If they don’t.”

“Well what about while those two were… doing their thing…”

He smiled. “Oh right. I dunno. It wouldn’t really have put me off. I might have wanked myself… I dunno.”

Simon asked, looking taken aback but at the same time intrigued by what Gould was saying, “What, while they were screwing?”

Gould looked disinterested. “I dunno. If I needed one… I wouldn’t have had a problem with it because of what they were doing…”

Simon was incredulous. “But the noise, the smell… you said – ”

“It’s all pretty natural. I mean, my point wasn’t that they were screwing, it was how they were so comfortable about doing it together. How they just accepted that it was a way of using each other’s bodies while they were away from civilisation. As I said, I’ve been with other groups where I’ve known lads were humping each other in my tent, but it wouldn’t have struck me as an issue.”

I asked, “Have you never wanted to join in?”

He smiled. “Not really. To be honest, I’ve always been scared it would hurt…”

“But you’d do it to another guy…”

He grinned broadly. “I never said that…”

“If you didn’t need to pay him back…”

He went quiet, smiling; shaking his head like this had gone far enough. Then he said, “It’s about intimacy, isn’t it? If I was totally comfortable about being intimate with another guy and, like those two, could see his arse as just a way of getting off while I was away from my wife, then maybe. But not definite. And don’t quote me.”

I laughed. “Of course… this goes no further. I dunno… I can sort of see how it would happen but I don’t know how far…”

Simon interrupted me. “What about the other stuff, though?”

Gould kept staring at me despite Simon’s interruption. His eyebrows raised. I gestured my capitulation to Simon, allowing his question to stand. So Gould turned to look at him.

“What about the other stuff?” he repeated.

“What stuff?”

Simon looked at me and then back at Gould. “Well, you talked about mouth-jobs..?”

Gould said, “Yeah. There’s a lot of that. I mean, as you said earlier, it’s kind of a natural progression from having a wank together in a tent. Hands change places and then… well it’s the obvious next step.”

Simon’s expression was intense. Despite his attempts to hide it behind his bent leg, his cock was clearly sticking upwards inside his briefs. The small damp patch at the tip of it made it even more obvious. He asked, “What – guys do that a lot? I mean, during camping trips and stuff?”

“The ones where we get away from other people, yeah. Where we’re pretty much a bunch of guys alone together.”

“And the lads just couple up together? Just like that…?”

Gould laughed. “Well, when nature calls…” Simon didn’t even smile – he was too interested and taking this too seriously to joke about it. Gould went on, “No – I guess it’s a case of the lads getting together for company and then one thing leading to another… But it’s usually a discrete thing. The two lads in my tent that night were taking… well… sort of a different approach. Most guys are more quiet about it – they sneak into each others’ sleeping bags and all you hear is their breathing getting faster, the odd grunt and sigh, and a soft beating noise getting faster and faster.

“Then some guys take it a step further and, well, the soft beating noises turn into slurping noises. Those odd grunts turn into groaning and panting… If I do a nightly patrol around the camp, it’s usually obvious that there’s stuff going on in at least a couple of tents…”

I laughed, “Jesus!”

He smiled and glanced again at my crotch. My erection was now straining against the material of my briefs, unmistakable, but that didn’t really matter: the three of us were obviously hard and there was no point in any of us getting coy about it

Gould went on, “I mean, it’s not every trip that it happens on, but -”

Simon interrupted him, eager for more details. “Has it ever happened in your tent? With you awake.”

Gould grinned. “‘Course it has, mate. Usually discretely, as I say, but there was this one time…” He paused, wondering whether he ought to continue. He looked at us, our faces alight with enthralment, and decided he would. “There was a trip to Andes last year. There’s nothing so bizarre as waking up to see two big rugby guys going at it together in a sixty-nine on the next sleeping bag. Bold as brass.”

Simon asked, “Sixty-nine?”

Gould ignored the question and looked at me. I clarified, “Sucking each other’s cocks.”

Simon looked confused. “How?” He thought about it and then slowly nodded. “Oh… right. One on his back, yeah? The other on top?”

Gould smirked. “Yeah.”

I mused, “Last year, eh? Andes trip? That was with the lower sixth.” I kept working through his clues, ” Rugby players?”

Gould laughed. “Don’t even try to work it out, Seb. They’re not rugby players, anyway…”

I laughed. “It’s Stephen Roberts and Jonathon Drake, isn’t it?” They were the only two guys from the lower sixth who could be described as “big rugby guys”: they were both tall, well-built, athletic lads. Both blatantly straight.

Gould moved forwards slightly and laughed. “Don’t. It’s not fair on them.”

Simon laughed too. “Robo and Drake? Fuckin’ hell… sorry, sir.”

Gould said, “It’s not those two. Seriously.”

I said, “So what happened?”

Gould leaned backwards against the wall again. He opened his legs further, flagrantly showing off his is large, stiff cock inside his briefs. It looked thick and enormous and, like Simon’s, had leaked enough precum to form a dark patch at the tip of his clearly-defined bell-end.

He smiled and told the story. “I guess I woke up slowly. Became aware that it was light and that the tent was getting hot from the sun on it. Then aware that there were these slurping sounds going on next to me. I opened my eyes and saw one guy on top of the other, screwing him in the mouth. Then I noticed that he was taking the other guy into his mouth. They stayed like that, paired up, mouths working at the same rhythm on each other. Pretty quiet, except for the odd grunt and moan.”

Simon asked, “And what about when they came?”

Gould said, “What about it?”

“Well, did they swallow it, or what?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember exact details – I guess I turned over and gave them a bit of privacy. I guess they pulled out and shot into their hands. I don’t know.”

He paused and then said, “Is this, like, really freakin’ you out?”

I laughed. “No. I’m just amazed. I didn’t know.”

Simon added, “I’m not freaked out. I just never knew guys did this. Well not straight ones, anyway.”

Gould said, “It’s just something that’s inevitably going to happen. Something I’m always aware of. Different tents, different lads, different ages.”

I asked, “Are other staff, I mean adults, so cool with it? I mean, if I was hiking in a group of lads and camping with a teacher, I’d be scared to do stuff – even if I wanted to – in case he heard and made a big thing of it.”

Gould yawned. “I think if you’re into hiking or mountaineering, or anything involving camping for long periods, you get used to being with other guys on an intimate level, and used to seeing other men and boys in every possible state, so the sexual stuff doesn’t come as a big deal.”

He went quiet, mulling over what he’d said, and then continued, “A couple of years ago I ran a hiking trip in Canada . Right up inside the Arctic Circle . One night I woke up to the sounds of sex. The two lads in the tent were sucking each other, lying side-by-side and enjoying themselves. It was pretty light even though it was after midnight and I saw them clearly. I was going to tell them to be more quiet when I noticed the other guy in the tent, a Physics teacher from a couple of years back, lying at the other side of the tent, wanking.”

“Was that Stacey?” Simon asked. Mr Stacey had been a young teacher, just out of teacher training college, who’d spent his first couple of years in the profession at our school. I’d immediately thought of him too: he was the only Physics teacher from the last couple of years who had been into hiking trips.

Gould nodded and continued. “He kept looking at them, not bothered about what they were doing at all. He just got on with his thing while they got on with theirs.”

I asked, “Did you get on with yours?”

He smirked, “I might have done…”

Simon intervened. “But didn’t you think that, since you two guys were adults, you should have stopped them doing that…?”

Gould asked, “Why? They were just helping each other out. In a way, they were being more adult than Gav and I; they were comfortable enough with each other to establish what they wanted from each other. It was Gav and I who were being childish – staying apart when we should have setting up our own arrangement.”

I asked, “Did you set up an arrangement with him?”

Gould smiled. “Well, you know, we both had needs…”

Simon said, “You mean, you and Stacey started sucking each other…?” His face was alight and his briefs tented outwards. By now, even Simon seemed totally relaxed about displaying his excitement to spectators.

Gould laughed. “I didn’t say that. I was just saying that Gav, like me, was comfortable with the idea of male intimacy. That the sexual side of it wasn’t an issue for him.”

I wanted to know more. My cock was really aching inside my briefs. I really wanted to rub or just squeeze it, but neither Gould nor Simon had gone that far, and I didn’t want to be the first. So I just left it, a thick pole inside my underwear for Gould and Simon to look at.

I asked, “Have you ever done that, though?”

“What?”

“Sucked a guy off in a tent. In exchange for him sucking you.”

He laughed. “I’m not getting into that. You two guys would tell the whole school in like five minutes. No way.”

I said, “We wouldn’t. Everything we’ve said stays in this room. Right, Simon?”

Simon agreed. “Yeah. Right.”

Gould said, “Half an hour ago, Simes, you weren’t even comfortable with the idea of guys wanking together. You can’t pretend to be suddenly okay with the whole idea of male intimacy now.”

Simon said, “Yeah. I had some hang-ups. I admit that. But I’m kind of interested by what you’ve been talking about .”

Gould smiled. “Tomorrow’s another day, though. Things might look a bit differently then.” He yawned, stretching himself on his bed. Then he said, “Look, guys, I’m beat. I’m going to try to get some sleep. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

With that, he pulled his legs into bed, pulled the duvet over him and turned away from us.

I got up from my bed and walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Simon followed me in. He walked straight to the toilet and stood in front of it holding his stiff cock. Slowly and erratically, dribbles of piss squirted out of it and he moved around to try to get them to hit the bowl. He looked over towards me a couple of times as if embarrassed about his attempts to piss with a hard-on. I just continued brushing my teeth.

After a minute or so, the squirts subsided and he shook the last dribbles of piss from his cock. Tucking it back into his briefs, he said, “What did you think of all that stuff?”

I took the brush out of my mouth. “What? The male intimacy thing?”

He said, “Yeah.”

I stared into the mirror for a few seconds, noticing that my eyes looked tired. Then I said, “I dunno. It’s not a gay thing. It’s just guys being together and comfortable with it. I guess I’d go with that.”

He walked over to the sink and looked at me through the mirror as he picked his toothbrush up.

He said, “Would you – you know – wank a guy and stuff? Helping each other out…?”

I pulled the top off my mouthwash. “Yeah. I guess. If we were good mates.”

I took a swig of it and rinsed it around my mouth. He put toothpaste onto his brush. He said, looking down, “And what about the sucking stuff?”

I spat the mouthwash out and replaced the lid. I looked back through the mirror at him and said, “As the guy said, it seems like a pretty adult arrangement.”

Simon raised the toothbrush to his mouth and then paused. He waited a couple of seconds, looking at me through the mirror, and then said, “Look. I… er… fancy a wank.” He glanced down at the stiff rod in his briefs and laughed, “I’m hard has hell!” I laughed too. He continued, “Look, though, Seb – if I start, will you join in? I mean, I don’t wanna look like a dork, jerking off on my own with you guys listening.”

I smiled. “I was gonna have one anyway. Same reason.”

He glanced down at my crotch, at my own thicker erection making a ridge inside my briefs. Then he smiled and started brushing his teeth.

I walked over to the toilet and released my hard cock from my briefs, holding it above the bowl. It curved upwards, and I waited to piss. I said, “I’m so horny, actually, that I wouldn’t say no to working out a deal between the two of us…” I laughed to make it seem like a joke, if he chose to interpret it that way.

Simon took the brush out of his mouth. He stared at me through the mirror, his face serious. A couple of squirts of piss dribbled out of my swollen cock and into the toilet bowl. He spoke over the top of the sounds of it splashing into the water. “I dunno, Seb. I mean, I’m not saying no. I just… I dunno.”

“Well I’m not hung about it, Simon.”

He held his toothbrush in front of his mouth, pausing and thinking about what I was offering. He said, “Yeah. I know. Neither am I. I guess. But…”

In its engorged state, my cock refused to piss normally. My bladder felt reasonably full, but my piss just trickled out with little more force than a leaky tap.

Simon seemed unable to finish off his rejection so I tried to anticipate his reason for concern. “Gould doesn’t sound like he’d be too freaked out…”

Simon nodded. “I know. It’s not that. I just…”

I finished off, dabbed my cock with a couple of sheets of toilet paper, and said, “Well it’s not a big issue to me. That’s all. Just so you know.”

He kept brushing his teeth and nodded.

 

Part 3 

13th March 2002: The hostel story continues after lights out…

I walked back into the bedroom and got into my bed. I lay on my back, gently playing with my cock under the duvet. Then I looked over at Gould; he was still lying with his face turned away from me so I couldn’t tell if he was asleep. His breathing was slow and deep and sounded like he was.

I heard Simon finish off and rinsing the sink with the tap. Then he came out of the bathroom and walked over to his bed. He checked his alarm clock and looked over at me, staring at the mound in my duvet at crotch level. I made a few gentle jerks. He looked away, but smiled to himself.

Then he went to turn the light off and walked back over to get into bed. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I started to make out shapes in the room, dimly illuminated from the security light at the front of the building. Simon lying in his bed. A mound in his duvet at crotch level like mine. Gould still facing away from us.

We lay like that for a few minutes. I wondered if Simon had lost his nerve. I desperately needed to masturbate to relieve the arousal I felt from the conversation we’d had, but I wanted Simon to start it off. Apart from the fact he’d said he would, it seemed more natural to wait for him to feel comfortable enough to instigate things seeing as he’d had the problem with it earlier.

After about ten minutes, I heard a slow beating coming from the direction of Simon’s bed. I glanced towards it and saw the mound at his crotch twitching in time with it. My eyes were now accustomed to the gloom of the room and I could see his outline clearly. The rising and falling of his chest started to get faster; his feet moved apart to opposite sides of the bed.

I took the opportunity to listen to him for a while before I joined in. I could hear his quick, rapid breaths as he started to enjoy the feelings of his hand; I could hear the rhythm of his fist against the duvet starting to increase. His bed started to rock slightly, the springs squeaking intermittently. I had never thought of male masturbation as particularly interesting until I heard Simon’s solitary pleasuring of himself. It had always seemed like something juvenile: a pale imitation of sex; an inferior prelude to more sophisticated pleasures which would follow. Like a child’s milk teeth, I had supposed that its significance lay in its loss and the progression from it.

But hearing Simon, despite still being fairly tense and self-aware, gleaning pleasure from the simple motion of his fist against his cock, and sensing his body responding to it, relaxing and succumbing to it, captivated me. His breathing grew faster, the beating of his hand stronger, until the whole room was filled with sounds of his self-enjoyment. His bed rocked, the springs underneath it creaking in rhythm to his fist, and above that was the sound of his soft gasping.

I heard Gould turn over gently in his bed, obviously wanting to better hear the sounds that Simon normally kept private. The beating of Simon’s hand on his foreskin was heavy and distinct like a pulse; the rocking of the bed, the gasping of his breath, the squeaking of the springs all superfluous to that. I wondered if Gould was feeling excited to hear this younger guy’s rhythm.

By now my own cock was straining for release and so I pushed my briefs down to my thighs and started rubbing myself to a slower beat than Simon. My bed started creaking, like his but an octave lower, and I allowed my soft gasps for breath to be heard as his were. We continued like that for a few minutes, two young lads masturbating while our teacher listened from his own bed, each at our own pace, each making our different sounds of pleasure.

I realised that Simon was gasping “Ah ah ah” in time with the rhythm of his bed. It was low and breathless but distinct. A masculine serenade to the simple, pulsing pleasure he was deriving from his cock. The beatings of his hand became faster still, the creakings of the bed more frenzied and I realised he was thrusting his hips upwards on the mattress to intensify his enjoyment.

I gasped, “Oh yeah” and started beating my own cock more quickly, sweeping my hand up and down its length and relishing the banging sound my fist was making against the inside of the duvet. I loved the feelings that were coursing through me: the waves of pleasure from the intensity of masturbating like this, two of us together, unashamed by our self-gratification in front of an older observer.

Then I heard a third rhythm and realised Gould was masturbating too. Not as loud as Simon and I, his rhythm was slower and more sedate, his hand relaxed and experienced. The sounds from his bed were unmistakable, though: his hand was pumping at his cock, beating against his duvet, just as ours were. His bed creaked as ours did: a low, sullen creaking adding its own beat to ours. I looked over to it and could see that his duvet, like Simon’s and mine, was rising and falling in a mound over his cock. His head was flat against his pillow: looking up to the ceiling.

The three of us lay there for a while, each enjoying his own hand but having his enjoyment exaggerated by the sounds from the others’ beds. Simon gasping, his hand beating rapidly, his bed a fury of noise. Me slower, panting and with my hand banging against my duvet. Gould more leisurely, the thumping of his fist firm like he was making slow, deliberate strokes up and down his long cock. Our three rhythms distinct, our three hands sweeping our cocks at their own paces.

The atmosphere was overpoweringly masculine – the noise and pulse within the room focussed exclusively around our cocks and our wrists – but was nevertheless erotic and exciting. We were deriving our pleasure in a uniquely male way; Gould as a man enjoying the same sensations from his cock as Simon and I were from ours. I couldn’t help thinking of Gould’s cock, large and thick, and his hand around it, sweeping up and down its length. It really appealed to me that, even as a married man and a teacher, he was so uninhibited about masturbating in front of the two of us.

Then Simon stopped and he fell silent. Now mine became the dominant rhythm: the beating of my hand became the loudest in the room; the gasping of my breath became obvious to the others. I speeded up, enjoying being the focus of attention. Further excited that the Gould was now hearing my sounds of pleasure and that he’d be unable to stop himself imagining my cock and my fist around it as he beat at his own.

I was aware of Simon standing up and walking across the room. His silhouette was clear against the light from the window, his erect cock sticking upwards out of the front of briefs. At first I assumed he was going to the bathroom, thinking that perhaps having orgasmed he was going to clean himself up, but he came over to my bed, pulled the duvet back slightly and started getting in with me.

I stopped wanking and moved over on the mattress to let him in. Now Gould’s rhythm was loudest: unlike Simon and I, with our more frantic and impatient noises, Gould beat himself with a slow and confident rhythm. His fist was unhurried and experienced and his bed creaked gently to his more mature technique. His breathing sounded slow and relaxed, like he was just lying back and enjoying the feelings from his cock, without any shame or embarrassment that we were listening.

Simon whispered, “You wanna do this?”

I rolled over so that we faced each other and said, “Yeah.”

I reached down and found his cock. It felt hot and stiff, shorter than my own but probably slightly thicker. I gripped it tightly within my fist, squeezing it, and Simon gasped gently. His breath was in my face, smelling of his minty toothpaste. I started jerking him, slowly but firmly, and the squeaky springs of the bed responded immediately. Gould kept to his own mellow rhythm in his own bed, but he must have been aware from the sounds from mine, that his two younger roommates were sharing a bit of intimacy together.

Simon gasped, “Yeah!” It sounded loud and breathless in the dark room: Gould could now be in no doubt that something was going on between us; that we were having our first taste of reciprocal sex. Thoughts kept flashing through my mind telling me that I shouldn’t be doing this; not with Simon, not in front of Gould, not like this. I kept thinking “He’ll tell everyone that I’m gay,” first about Gould, then about Simon, and then about Gould again. But I kept reminding myself of our conversation: how Gould had been so cool with guys ‘setting up arrangements together’ as he’d put it, and how Simon had been so fascinated by the stories Gould had told.

Simon’s hand fumbled around the folds of my tee-shirt and the front of my briefs, eventually wrapping itself around my protruding cock. He started wanking me quickly and the squeaking of the bed became louder and more frantic. His hand on my cock was much faster than mine on his and I struggled to keep up with his urgent rhythm. It felt strange to have another hand around me but, because his technique was so different from the grip I was familiar with, it felt novel and exciting.

Simon started panting again, making “Ah ah ah” noises over the furious rocking sounds of the bed. I started gasping too: Simon’s hand was really squeezing and pumping at my cock, his technique far less patient and sensual than that of my own hand. The feelings from my cock were intense and overwhelming: his wrist pounded up and down its length almost aggressively and his fingers gripped it in a way that I’d never experienced.

Simon’s breathing and gasping increased without shame: his body kept tensing up with the pleasure he was getting from the working of my hand, no doubt finding my motions as unfamiliar and powerful as I was finding his. For my part, I was more reticent about expressing my pleasure – I was still too aware that we were sharing a room with a guy who, for all his openness and easy-going views, was our teacher and someone we’d see regularly in the months and years to come.

I looked over Simon’s shoulder and saw, in the dim half-light, that Gould had pulled his duvet off his body and was masturbating his long, curved dick in the open. His fist was still slow and self-controlled, but he obviously felt comfortable enough to expose himself to us while pleasuring himself in the way that he probably would if he were alone. His face was directed towards us; I could imagine him grinning to himself at the contrast between his own, assured, stroking and the frantic, adolescent fury of his students in the bed opposite him. I wondered if he was thinking about his wife or some other woman while he masturbated and whether the noise in the room of us two boys experimenting with each others’ cocks was distracting him or was intensifying his pleasure.

Simon pulled back from me, panting like a dog. He took his hand away from my cock and pushed mine away from his. The rocking noise of the bed subsided and died. Recovering his breath slightly, he whispered, “If I suck you, Seb, will you suck me?”

I felt a new wave of excitement. My cock throbbed, aching for attention.

I said, still breathing heavily from my own exertions, “Yeah. Yeah that’d be good.”

Simon ducked beneath the duvet and worked his way down my body. I felt his breath against my throbbing member and then the warmth and wetness of his tongue encircling its head as he took it into his mouth. I let out a loud, involuntary sigh. He started devouring my the head of my cock, taking it into his mouth, licking like a lollipop and then drawing back from it. I could feel that he was masturbating its stem between his finger and thumb, more gently and sensitively than before, but my main tingling pleasure was from my bell end, sucked and licked by Simon’s mouth with so much enthusiasm that I wondered how good it must taste.

Now the noise from our bed was that of Simon’s mouth around my engorged bell-end. His slurping and sucking sounded loud to me: it was inevitable that Gould could also hear it. I looked back over towards him. He was still turning towards us, still watching whatever he could see of our outlines in the dim light. I noticed that his hand was beating faster along the arc of his cock and noticed that the creaking sounds from his bed were becoming louder.

Simon’s mouth became more daring, exploring further down the stem and gaining enough confidence for his hand to leave it alone, perhaps to return to his own cock. I grabbed onto his head and started pushing myself in and out of his mouth, using him to wank but with his lips and his tongue instead of his hand. I tried to push more of my cock into him than just the head, but he kept pulling back – I guess its length was too scary for him to contemplate.

The bed started rocking again as I slid myself in and out of his face beneath the duvet. The noise from his mouth grew even louder – every time my cock bobbed out from his mouth he’d make a wet slurping noise. I was loving the feeling from it, and by now the fact that Gould could hear us and that our oral sex would be blindingly obvious to him, was no longer bothering me.

We lay like that for a couple of minutes: Simon underneath the duvet, sucking and slobbering on my bell end, me pushing into his mouth and holding his head to receive me. My breathing grew faster and I felt myself edging towards orgasm. I started thrusting more insistently into him and he seemed willing to take about three inches of my stem into his mouth. The bed rocked and creaked to our rhythm. Sweat dampened my teeshirt and made the crack of my arse feel wet and hot inside my briefs.

I noticed that Gould had thrown his duvet to the floor and was now wanking himself rapidly and noisily. His legs were bent at the knees and splayed wide open as one hand swept frantically against his cock and the other hand reached further down, perhaps to his balls, perhaps to his arsehole. He was still watching us, apparently fascinated by the movements of my duvet concealing Simon feasting on my cock. I guess whatever a guys’ sexuality, it’s not every day that he gets the chance to watch two lads experiencing their first blow jobs together.

Simon pulled off me and moved back up the bed, leaving my cock feeling wet and cold and throbbing under the duvet. His head pushed out, in front of me, and I smelled the odour of my cock on his breath.

He whispered, “Do me, Seb.”

I felt down to his crotch and gripped his cock, thick and stiff and poking out of his briefs. Then I worked down beneath the duvet, moving my face underneath it and towards his crotch. I felt interested by the prospect of having Simon’s cock in my mouth; how it would taste and what it would feel like to stimulate this part of him with my mouth. He was a close friend and yet I’d never thought of him in this way: now that I was on the threshold of sucking his cock, I wondered why doing something so natural had never occurred to me.

The air beneath the duvet was thick and moist. The smell was powerfully masculine: of our sweat, of our cocks and of our precum. Plus, behind that, the more pungent odour of our briefs, the smell of material which had spent the day cupping our cocks, balls and arses. I could hardly breathe but I was intoxicated.

I dived lower, homing in on Simon’s cock, relishing the cloying atmosphere under here and its thick odour of our sex. I pressed my face up against it, not yet tasting it; just inhaling and relishing its rich, sharp smell. I moved it to one side and pressed my face into his pubic hair. The smell here was stronger and more musky, intensified by the dampness of his sweat clinging to his wiry hairs, but it also smelled familiar – evocative of my own sexual odours but enticingly different.

I moved downwards to his balls and found that his briefs still covered them, the material cupping his large rounded scrotum with his cock sticking out above the waistband. The powerful smell of his briefs hit me: the smell of his cock and of its sweat and piss on the material, dried throughout the day beneath his trousers and now moistened, like dew, by his excitement. I ran my nose around his scrotum, sniffing at his briefs like a dog, feeling his balls move around inside of him and hearing myself almost hyperventilating with the thrill of smelling my friend in such a deeply personal place.

I thought of us standing side by side at the urinals in a museum that afternoon; rushing to finish pissing to get back to the coach, but at the same time trying to hide our cocks from one another as boys do. I remembered that I’d glanced at Simon urgently tucking himself back inside his briefs, never thinking that my face would soon be pressed up against the same briefs with his balls inside them; never dreaming that my mouth would be watering from the sharpness of their odour, and from the anticipation of tasting his cock.

Simon surprised me by pulling my head away from his balls and towards his cock. Perhaps he was conscious that I was smelling one of his most intimate smells, worried that I might be disgusted by his natural odours, or perhaps he was just eager to have me return the favour he’d paid me.

He directed my face into his cock so that its hot, moist tip was pushing against my lips. I licked it and tasted Simon’s sticky, slightly salty, precum. I heard him gasp as I swirled my tongue around his piss slit and then moan as I licked its underside, teasing the sensitive area where his foreskin joined his bell-end.

Then I felt him pushing my head towards it, forcing me to eat it. It felt like he urgently needed this. I opened my lips further and he slid into me; his entire six inches pushing its way into my mouth and slapping against the back of my throat. I gagged automatically and pulled back from him but he forced my head back against him, spearing my face on his thick cock.

For a lad who had been so shy about masturbating with other guys, Simon was pretty uninhibited in expressing how he liked his cock to be sucked. His grip around my head was tight and he started thrusting his hips rapidly towards me so that he could best pleasure himself inside my mouth. The urge to gag soon subsided and I just lay there submissively, feeling his cock, now seeming enormous, ramming in and out me as I spluttered and gasped for breath.

The feeling of it was overwhelming: for those brief few minutes, Simon’s cock became my whole world. The taste of the sticky drips coming from it and the feel of it ramming in and out of my mouth, demanding pleasure from me, was surprisingly exciting. His damp bush of pubic hair kept slamming into my nose, overpowering me with his sharp, musky scent, and his brief-clad balls kept pushing against my chin. The fact that this was gentle, quiet Simon fucking my mouth in such a demanding and mechanical way made it even more intense: this was a totally carnal moment for him and I relished his enjoyment of it.

I was aware that the noise we were making was louder than ever. Simon was totally unashamed and uninhibited in expressing the satisfaction he was getting from my mouth. He gasped and panted like an animal and kept making grunting “Ah” sounds, over and over. The whole bed rocked from the thrusting of his hips: the creaking was so loud and fast that it sounded almost as if we were doing it deliberately for a laugh. But I really think Simon was out of control for those few minutes: I guess that this was, like it had been for me, his first experience of oral sex, and that he’d just discovered that he had a bit of liking for it.

I moved my hand around to Simon’s arse: I remember that my intention wasn’t to try and grope it; I just wanted to hold it as he pushed in and out of me. I cupped one of his cheeks with my fingers pressing into his cleft, feeling its heat and dampness through the thin material of his briefs. At that moment my fixation with my servicing of his cock abated and I became suddenly aware of how fascinating his arse was.

His cock still slamming into me with increasing pace, I pushed my fingers inside the back of his briefs and drove them into his arse-crack. It was wet from his sweat and hot from his excitement; its deep crevices lined with his coarse, wiry hair. I went straight for his hole, sliding my fingers around in this intensely secret area of him, until I found it. I ran them around it, feeling the ridges of puckered skin encircling his anus, and then pushed my finger into the centre, gently coaxing him open.

From then on I was oblivious to his cock. I was dimly aware that he might cum at any minute and could feel that his thrusting was becoming shorter and faster, but my main focus was on his arsehole. It was tight and resisted my gentle prodding, but my fingertip was slick and sticky with the moistness of his crack and managed to push its way into him.

I was consumed by my own excitement. His cock was pummelling my mouth in a frenzy and I could hardly breathe, and the added sensation of fingering his arse was almost too much: I was getting dizzy. I kept thinking of Gould’s story of the two sixth formers who had been fucking each other. Now instead of feeling intrigued but mildly disgusted by the thought of my cock inside another man, I was totally captivated by it. I wanted so much to slam my cock into that tight, wet hole and to treat his arse with the same passionless urgency that he was showing to my mouth. It didn’t matter to me that I hadn’t even lost my virginity with a girl yet: this was different and totally irrelevant to that. It was an act of mutual need between two friends; something natural and masculine; an expression of trust rather than of love.

I started sliding my finger in and out of his hole and his breathless grunting noises became even louder. His insides felt hot and soft and the muscular ring of his anus gripped my finger like a clamp. I became aware of the pungent smell of Simon’s arsehole from my finger and was instantly drawn to it, fascinated by the idea that that I was penetrating this guy and that his arsehole was, for all its baseness, a male equivalent to a girl’s pussy. I knew that I should find the smell and the idea of Simon’s arse disgusting and sordid, but that knowledge just served to make it even more alluring.

The furious rhythm of his hips increased yet more and then I felt hot, thick liquid erupting from of his cock and hitting the back of my throat. My instinct was to pull away from him but his hands held my head firmly and I had no choice but to accept and to swallow his spewing orgasm. He kept thrusting himself into my mouth as what seemed like an impossible amount of his gooey semen pumped out of his cock and filled me. I was unable to gulp it down quickly enough. I felt it running down my lips and splatter over my cheeks as his cock slid in and out of my mouth.

While he emptied his balls into my mouth, I felt his arsehole clamp around my finger so tightly that I was unable to maintain my rhythm of fingering him. It gripped around my knuckle and held me there, half of my finger inside his bowels as he orgasmed.

Then, abruptly, Simon stopped ramming himself into me and gripped my head firmly in front of him, preventing further movement from me. As I struggled to swallow the last few spurts from his cock, I heard that Gould was saying something, his voice muffled by the duvet.

I opened my eyes and realised that the light was on: it’s glow was filtering through the material of the duvet. I heard Gould laugh and say something like, “I’ve got to see this…” and then the duvet was pulled off the bed.

I felt quite embarrassed, lying there with my head in Simon’s crotch and drinking from his cock; my hand inside the back of his briefs. I pulled away from him quickly, aware of an obvious slurp from my finger as I pulled it out of his arse. The smells of our sweat, and of Simon’s cum and his arse were heavy in the air.

Gould laughed and said, “Sorry you guys! I couldn’t resist it!”

I looked up at him, feeling self-conscious about having Simon’s semen around my mouth and running down my chin. I guess I must have unintentionally wiped my mouth with my hand because Gould laughed again and said, “Bit of a messy, eater, aren’t you?”

Gould’s vest was sticking to his chest with his sweat and on the front of it, across his belly, were drops and splashes of his translucent white cum. The front of his briefs were tucked underneath his balls so that his large, still impressively hard cock rose upwards in front of him. His foreskin was bright pink from the action of his hand and his round bell-end was a deep, smouldering purple with a string of his semen hanging and swaying from it. Compared to Simon’s, now softening in front of me, Gould’s cock looked massive: thick and straight, it rose up confidently, unashamedly flaunting the remnants of his orgasm.

He smiled broadly and said, “Don’t be freaked out you guys, it’s no big deal.”

Simon seemed a bit traumatised. He pushed my face further away from his oozing cock and said, “Sorry, sir. We were just sort of… messing around…”

Gould laughed. “Hey, I told you. It’s nothing. I’d be following your lead if one of my hiking mates were here…”

I looked at Gould’s cock again and imagined what it would have been like to have sucked it. Contrasting his more developed organ with the one I’d just feasted on. I thought of how his swollen bell end would fill my mouth, how only the first few inches of his thick stem would be able to enter me, and wondering if his copious gushes of thick, white semen would taste different from Simon’s.

Then he walked towards the bathroom and said, “I’m gonna need some tissue… what about you guys…?”

I called out, “Yeah…” Simon grunted. He still looked a bit shocked; I don’t know why he was so bothered, it seemed that I had more to be embarrassed about since I’d been the one who’d been caught gulping down another boy’s cum.

I got up from the bed and looked down at Simon lying there, his eyes closed; still breathing heavily from his climax.

Gould came out from out the bathroom and passed me some tissue. He looked down at my cock, sticking out from the front of my teeshirt and briefs, still hard and curving upwards. He said, “You didn’t finish yourself off, Seb?”

I started wiping Simon’s cum from around my mouth. “I guess not.”

Gould peeled off his vest, rolled it up into a ball and threw it over to his rucksack. Then he pulled off his briefs and did the same with them. His cock was now starting to soften but still stood outwards from his balls and still looked thick and heavy.

He said, looking down at Simon, “Well maybe you should return the favour, Simes?”

Simon opened his eyes slightly and looked over at me. He said, “Sorry Seb. I’m so fucking tired… oh er… sorry sir.” His cock was now fully limp and lay against his stomach, the last traces of his cum lying in a trail on his smooth skin.

Gould wiped the gobs of thick white semen from the stem of his cock and then cleaned his bush of pubic hair. The light fuzz of hair on his chest was matted with sweat and he idly rubbed it with the cum-smeared tissue. He laughed again and said, “C’mon Simon. You’ve just got to turn over and stick your arse in the air. I reckon the state Seb’s in, any hole would do.” I laughed too.

Simon opened his eyes again. He muttered, with irritation, “No way. Goodnight.” Then he pulled the duvet back onto the bed and over him, rolled away from us and lay there, motionless, facing the wall.

Gould took another look at my arching cock and turned around. He bent forwards and opened the cheeks of his arse with his hands. He said, laughing, “You’ll have to make do with this then, mate.”

He turned to look at me, grinning, still exposing his hairy cleft to me. I stared at it, getting brief glimpses of his pink rosebud hole through the matted dark hair inside his arse crack. Just as when I’d fingered Simon, the urge to penetrate another guy’s arse rose up suddenly and forcefully inside me. I struggled to hide it from him and laughed.

I said, “I’d split you in two…”

He parted his cheeks further, so that the moist ring of his pink, tight anus was clearly visible. He goaded, “Bring it on, mate… I’ve had guys bigger than you for breakfast…”

I gripped my cock and stepped towards him. The urge to slam my cock into him was growing in its impatience. From never having seriously contemplated anal sex with another male, the idea now seemed not only natural but almost irresistible to me.

I chuckled. “You’ll need to be sewn up when I’m finished…” Then I pressed the head of my cock into his crack, lining it up against his hole.

He laughed and then pulled forwards. He stood up and turned to face me, looking at me for a few seconds as if considering how to proceed. He looked down at my cock and then, smiling, said, “I think it’s going to have to be you and your wrist tonight. I’m bushed.”

I laughed, holding my stiff cock in my fist and pointing it towards him like a gun. “Chickening out, Brendon…?”

He kept smiling. “Seriously. I’m knackered. I’m going to bed.”

I took the hint and didn’t pursue it. I guess he had a boundary which he wasn’t prepared to cross. At least not with his own students. I felt disappointed but realised that, back at school and in the classroom, things would have been a bit weird between us if things had gone any further.

Gould got back onto his bed and pulled his duvet over him.

I looked at my own bed and at Simon, now fast asleep and pressing up against the wall.

I said, “He’s nicked me bed!”

I looked over at Simon’s bed, the duvet thrown back.

Gould said, “Don’t be daft, Seb. Get in with him. After what you did together tonight, you can’t really object to sleeping next to him…”

I looked over at Gould. His face was serious. I shrugged. “Okay.”

“Put the light off, mate.”

I switched off the light and found my way back to my bed in the darkness. Simon groaned as I got in behind him. I pressed my chest into his back and my cock, still hard as hell, against his arse. He sighed and moved back slightly, pressing his body against mine.

I put my arm over him and held him next to me. It felt cosy and soothing to be like this with him; totally ordinary and sincere to be together in bed as friends.

He sighed again and pushed his arse outwards against my hard cock. It pressed between his cheeks, pushing the material of his briefs into his crack.

Holding him like that, and gently rubbing my cock up and down between his buttocks, I drifted off to sleep.

 

Part 4 

19th September 2002: The history trip continues with young Sebastian overstepping the mark with his sleeping teacher…

I kept waking up throughout the night, and each time I did my cock was still hard and still pressing into Simon’s arse cleft, trying to push its way in through the material of his briefs.

I kept pulling him closer to me, pushing my chest right up against his back, feeling our sweat mixing in the heat beneath the duvet. He groaned occasionally, but didn’t pull away.

Then, at about six thirty, I woke up again and was immediately aware, as often happens, that this time sleep would not be returning.

I felt as horny as hell: yearning for sex as if I hadn’t masturbated for months. My cock felt as if it had a life of its own as only a fifteen year old’s can. Aching like it had been hard all night. Demanding gratification.

I didn’t care whether relief came in the form of my hand, a girl or even another boy. At that moment I felt so horny that gender was totally irrelevant to me.

I gripped Simon’s body tighter and rubbed my cock slowly up and down the crack between his arse cheeks. My face was pressing into the back of his head and I breathed in through his hair, smelling the perfume of his shampoo. I moved my hands down his chest and stomach, feeling the silky smoothness of his pale skin. Then I reached down for the front of his briefs, and found that his cock was also hard, pushing upwards as if trying to struggle free of them.

I gave his cock a couple of squeezes, feeling it lengthen and stiffen further in response.

I whispered, as quietly as I could, “Simon, are you awake?”

He remained still and silent. I kept rubbing my dick slowly up and down his arse.

So I tried again, more loudly. “Simon, mate… you awake?”

He didn’t respond and I kept rubbing myself against him, lightly masturbating my swollen cock against the ridge between his round cheeks. His arse felt good but the fact he wasn’t awake made me feel uncomfortable. He was my friend and I felt as if I was exploiting him.

I pulled away from him and looked over at Gould.

He was lying on his side, facing us, and had thrown the duvet onto the floor. His naked body was partially illuminated by the light outside the window and it was obvious from the length and thickness of his cock, that his excitement, like Simon’s, was not dampened by sleep.

I got out of bed as quietly as I could. My cock sprung upwards, curving into the air in front of me. I walked over to the bathroom door, reached in and pulled the light-cord, shielding my eyes as the fluorescent tube flashed rapidly on and off a few times as it warmed up. When the light had settled to a cold, constant beam, I walked into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror.

My eyes looked tired. “I should have had a wank last night before I went to sleep,” I thought to myself. “I wouldn’t be feeling so fucking horny now.”

I looked down my cock, arching upwards towards mirror, as if looking up at my reflection. I considered masturbating while looking at my reflection in the mirror, as I’d often enjoyed doing in my bedroom, but I felt pretty tired and the effort of standing up seemed too much.

So then I thought about going back into the room and having a wank on the empty bed. That seemed a better idea. Simon wouldn’t wake up until he was dragged out of bed and Gould had made it pretty clear that seeing his students enjoying a bit of their own handiwork wouldn’t exactly freak him out.

So I walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.

My hand was on the pull cord of the bathroom light when I noticed Gould’s naked body again. In the white glow thrown across the room by the bathroom light, his cock looked totally hard. Its eight inches pointed downwards to the mattress, but was as straight as a rod and impressively thick. His foreskin was completely rolled back and the broad head, a deep red colour, was fat and shiny like a polished ruby.

I was kind of interested to see my teacher in this state so I decided not to pull the cord. Instead, I left the light switched on and closed the door halfway so that the room was only dimly illuminated by it.

Then I walked back over to get a better look at Mr Gould’s sleeping form.

I stood next to his bed, my own cock still hard as hell, and looked over his body with admiration: the chiselled outlines of his developed muscles were clearly visible on his large, tall, frame. His chest looked solid and his pecs were well defined. His back sloped downward to meet his round, muscular buttocks. His thighs were thick and hairy. I could even smell the scent of him as he slept: a masculine, musky odour coming from the dense hair of his pubes and armpits and the lighter fuzz on his chest.

His large, impressively erect, cock and balls reinforced the powerful sense of manhood which he exuded.

The guy reeked, visibly and literally, of his gender. Such a body would have been almost impossible to visualise beneath the suit he usually wore while teaching maths.

I looked up at his face, the brown overnight stubble roughening his features, and saw that while obviously deep in sleep, his eyes were alight with movement and expression and his mouth kept betraying small smiles. He was obviously having pleasant dreams.

I looked back down at his cock and watched it gradually thicken further and slowly rise upwards away from his hip. After half a minute or so, it was throbbing in mid-air and the large bell-end glistened as precum wept from its puckered slit. I noticed then that his hips kept making subtle, almost indiscernible, twitches against the mattress and realised that, in his dreams, he was fucking someone.

I felt hotter than ever seeing Gould like this: as a man who was otherwise a figure of authority and formality, stripped of his black suit, lying naked on his bed, enjoying his solitary pleasure.

I loved looking at his cock, even though I’d never given it any thought before: it was just something that was stuffed away down the front of his trousers as he taught us in the classroom. But now it looked magnificent: eight inches, rock hard and thick as truncheon, dribbling his juices in strings onto the mattress.

I saw that he was sweating more heavily: droplets of it were glistening in his chest hair and on his forehead. The smell was powerful but not cloying. His abdominal muscles were also starting to tense and relax in time with his hips. Even in his dreams, in his state of relaxation, he managed to move enough to fuck the air in front of him: I wondered how much more aggressive his movements would be if he was awake and he had a real, rather than fantasy, woman on his bed with him.

I felt a sudden urge to masturbate him; to help him enjoy his dream. But I was hesitant.

I thought about what he’d do if he awoke. He’d talked at length of intimacy and encouraged us to disregard our reservations about nudity and sex between companions. So maybe he wouldn’t be too alarmed to find me helping him out.

I wondered, then, how he’d feel to see the state of my own cock, throbbing and curving upwards in front of me, as I masturbated him, but I figured that I could always grab that and conceal it from him as if I was being modest.

So I disregarded my reservations and reached out to gently wrap my fingers around his cock. It felt thick and solid: throbbing gently in my hand. I wondered if my own cock would thicken out so that it was as substantial as Gould’s: the guy was twenty-five so I had ten years to catch up.

I didn’t masturbate him immediately. Instead, I knelt down in front of him and, still holding the thick stem of his cock in my right hand, I gently touched the head of it with my other hand. Its texture was soft and I marvelled out how, while I pressed against it with my fingertip, it temporarily lost its shininess. I let some of his precum ooze out of his slit onto the tip of my finger and then rubbed it around the swollen head of his cock. He gasped and pulled away slightly, but did not seem to wake up.

I pulled both hands away from him and moved my face in closer to get a better look at his big cock. Even from a few inches away, I could smell its sharp, sexual odour. It was not unattractive: on the contrary, I found it fascinating. I wondered what it would taste like; how it would feel to have this man’s cock inside my mouth.

I reached up and gripped the thick stem with my right hand again. I slowly and gently masturbated him, easing his foreskin a couple of centimetres over the fat head of his cock, and then pulling it back again. The slit on the tip of his bell-end peered at me like a thin, weeping eye-slit. I kept wanking him gently, finding it difficult to move his foreskin more than halfway over the engorged and swollen head of his dick. I heard him groan softly.

I kept wondering how it would taste and, seeing the head oozing and pulsating in front of my face, the urge to find out became overwhelming.

I leaned forwards and licked the head of his cock, feeling the heat of the red skin with my tongue and tasting the saltiness of his thick oozing precum.

He gasped and pulled back slightly, breathing more quickly. I wondered if he’d woken up because the sensation of my tongue on his cock had been too intense for him. I looked up and saw that his eyes were still closed so I just kept gently masturbating him and waited for his breathing to settle down again.

I decided to take it more slowly.

Moving my head closer to him, I kept wanking him and gently licked the stem of his cock, feeling his foreskin gliding up and down its thick rod with my tongue. I licked right along his length, from the pink ridge of his bell-end until my face was pressed into his thick black pubic hair at the base of his cock. I loved the feel and taste of his cock and the sensation of his wiry pubic hair in my face and tickling my nose. I was fascinated by the smell of it: a thick, sweaty, masculine smell; sexual and erotic.

I moved my nose around in his dense wiry bush, working my way around his cock, inhaling the guy’s most private and most intimate smells.

Then I pushed my face down into his balls, relishing the intense smells of a day’s confinement inside his briefs. And further still, underneath his balls and into the crack between his thighs, my excitement growing and my breathing quickening.

If his legs had been open I’d have gone all the way underneath, following his perineum all the way to his arsehole, enjoying the different smells and sensations of the man’s sweaty, hairy and most personal areas.

But they were closed so I moved back up to his cock.

I leaned forwards and put my mouth around the head of it, still masturbating the stem of it with my hand. I was careful to be gentle and gradual and he didn’t pull back this time. I managed to get all of its head into my mouth, enjoying the sensation of it, large and ripe, against my tongue. I licked it inside my mouth, gliding my tongue around the soft skin, tasting more of the salty and sticky precum dribbling out of its slit.

The sensation of his foreskin, gliding into my mouth over half of his cock head and then back out of it as I masturbated him, was enthralling. As was the taste of his hot precum, weeping out of his glans and into my mouth as though he was feeding me.

I felt his cock growing larger and the head of it becoming smoother on my tongue as it swelled to its maximum size, his excitement nearing its climax.

Then, to my surprise, I felt his hands on the sides of my head. He was whispering, “Whoa… whoa…”

I thought at first he was going to cum in my mouth but then realised he was trying to pull my face away from his cock.

I withdrew from him and looked up at his face, feeling slightly embarrassed.

He wasn’t smiling. “Sebastian. Jesus – that’s way too far… way too far…”

I said, “I just… you know… felt a bit horny. You were enjoying it…”

He looked pretty stern but his cock kept throbbing in front of my face, the head of it wet with my spit. “I was asleep. That’s out of order…”

I couldn’t think of anything to say so I tried, “Sorry sir.” Like I’d forgotten to hand in an assignment.

His face softened. He paused for a few seconds, then said, “I’m kind of flattered you’d do that to me. But I’m out of bounds. I’m your teacher.”

I looked down.

He waited for me to say something and eventually I managed, “But all that stuff you said about guys away from home enjoying… you know… companionship… or whatever it was you said…”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s fine. You and Simon or you and another lad trying stuff out together. But not you and me, Seb. In ten years time you’ll realise how wrong it would have been if I’d have let you continue doing that… even though I was enjoying it…”

I said, “You could have pretended that you were still sleeping. I mean, I wouldn’t have known that you’d woken up.”

“Yeah but I would have and I’d have felt like a shit for just lying there letting you do that. Felt like I’d abused you or something. It would have bugged me. It might have fucked you up a bit too.”

I went quiet and looked at him. His eyes were gentle and friendly. I could see his point, even though I wasn’t sure I accepted it.

I stood up and took a few steps away from him.

I said, “Sorry.”

He smiled and said, “I’m not a prude. And we’re both horny. So if you wanna have a wank, I’ll be up for that.”

“Together?”

He kept smiling. “Yeah. If you like.”

“How’s that different from what I was doing?”

He shook his head, grinning. “Come on, Seb. Wanking’s something we both do all the time… guys sharing sleeping quarters for any period of time are gonna end up having a wank together at some point. What you did was to take a big step further…”

I smiled and nodded.

He got up and repositioned himself on the mattress so that he was sitting on his pillow, his knees bent in front of him. He gestured to the empty space at the foot end of the bed and said, “Sit up on here if you like.”

I guess I was a bit hesitant so he gestured over to the empty bed on the other side of the room and added, “Or go and lie on the bed over there. Whichever is more comfortable.”

I walked over and climbed onto the opposite end of his bed, positioning myself so that I was sitting with my knees bent in front of me as he was.

We faced each other for a few seconds, him looking at my mostly-limp cock and me looking at his mostly-hard one.

Then he moved his hand across to his cock, wrapping his fingers around it, and started masturbating. He took up a moderately fast, steady rhythm and smirked. “That feels pretty good…”

I watched his balls bobbing gently up and down inside his tight scrotum, in time with the beating of his hand. Then I saw how the redness of his bell-end became shiny and taut as his cock swelled back to full stiffness again.

I started rubbing my own cock between my fingers, feeling it responding more gradually than Gould’s.

He said, “Not as good as what you were doing, I admit… but this way neither of us gets guilt trips.”

I smiled and kept watching his foreskin working forwards and backwards along his thick stem, my own cock lengthening in suit.

I looked up at him and saw he was watching my cock, apparently as fascinated by my technique as I was with his.

He said, “When did you start wanking?”

“When I was ten or eleven. Pretty early, I gather…”

He said, “Yeah. But it explains why you’re so confident at it.”

“Confident?”

“Yeah. You’re working it up to an erection with your thumb and a couple of fingers. Playing with the head more than the stem. Teasing yourself. But when you’re doing it for real, I bet you use your whole fist.”

I thought about what he’d said, and realised that he was right: this wasn’t my ‘standard’ masturbatory technique – it was just a kind of warm-up. I was getting myself aroused by rubbing my foreskin back and forth over the head of my cock, but subconsciously preparing to use all four fingers and my thumb on the stem to start wanking in earnest once I was at full size.

I said, “Yeah. I guess. It’s just the way the thing seems to work.”

“My trick is to play with my balls. I guess different guys find different things work for them…”

My cock was now almost fully hard. Not quite as thick as Gould’s, but pretty much his equal in terms of length. I adjusted my hand and gripped the length of my cock in my fist. Then I started masturbating myself properly, using a rhythm more rapid than Gould’s to tug my foreskin up and down over my purple bell-end.

I said, “The rubbing the head thing seems to be what mine goes for…”

He smiled and then we both fell quiet, listening to the soft slapping sounds our hands made on our cocks as we masturbated. Mine was definitely louder, probably because my rhythm was more impatient than Gould’s. My wrist kept smacking against the top of my thigh and my foreskin was making wet-sounding noises as it slid backwards and forwards across my bell-end.

Neither of us made any attempt to conceal the fact that we were watching each other as we masturbated. I stared at his cock, his fist wrapped around it and his foreskin sliding up and down over his large bell-end, with the same intensity as he stared at mine. I looked further down at his large ball sac, and at his balls jiggling up and down inside it, just as he no doubt looked at mine. And I even looked further below out, between his open thighs, at the hairy line made by the crack of his arse where it met his balls, just as he was probably noticing mine.

He let out a sigh and smiled. “This feels really nice…”

I nodded and smiled back at him. I was getting into this, enjoying feeling like I was an adult, like I was one of the men, that I was getting from masturbating with him. It was kind of like the feeling I got from smoking a cigarette with my mates when I was a kid, but this felt far more natural and spontaneous.

I asked him, “At what age did you first do it?”

“On my own or like this?”

“On your own.”

He considered for a couple of seconds, his hand never missing a beat. “I guess I must have been thirteen or fourteen. I was camping with our scout group and woke up in the night to see that the scout leader, a guy of about twenty or so, had opened his sleeping bag and was beating off. Didn’t take me long to try it out for myself when I had a bit of privacy.”

“And like this?”

He laughed, “Well, pretty much every camping trip since! Once I was aware that it was going on, I sort of tuned into it and joined in with everyone else. I mean, I was pretty freaked out at first like you guys were, but once I saw my mates doing it together, and even teachers being totally cool about doing it, I just thought, ‘What the fuck’, and regarded it as just another bodily function. That’s all it is, really.”

I nodded and noticed that his hand was increasing its rhythm and that sweat was trickling down his face from his forehead, and down his sides from his armpits. The muscles on his right arm were starting to bulge with the strain of maintaining his rhythm.

I asked, “You did it with teachers, then? I mean, when you were about my age?”

“Yeah, if they were in the same tent with us. Let’s face it, they were men: they felt horny just like us. The men and the older lads would have a wank before we went to sleep. The younger guys would sleep through it, oblivious to it all.”

“And you’d watch each other?”

He smiled. “Look at each other, yeah. Not watch exactly. You’ve got to open your sleeping back when you’re wanking, otherwise you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable night afterwards! So it was kind of inevitable we’d take a look each other, see what our teachers were packin’ away inside their trousers.”

I grinned. “Sounds pretty good, actually…”

“It can be a good laugh. Especially if you’re sharing a campsite with other people. The sounds of eight boys and two men wanking together must be pretty distinctive. The looks on people’s faces the next morning can be hilarious. Especially when we leave the lamp on in the tent while we’re doing it – people can’t exactly ignore the silhouettes of all of us jerking away on the sides of the tent!”

I laughed, increasing my pace and feeling my own sweat pour down my back and across the cheeks of my arse.

Gould said, “I’m getting pretty close…”

The muscles on his chest and stomach were tensing up as he neared his orgasm and his sweat made tiny clear beads on the hair of his chest and around his balls.

He said, “I’m gonna do something you’ll think is weird. It feels pretty good, though, when you’re coming…”

He raised his left hand and licked the middle finger. Then he pushed his hand between his thighs and extended the finger between his arse cheeks.

I grinned. “You like fingering your arsehole?”

He pushed his finger in, bending the others so that he could accommodate it. He closed his eyes in pleasure and smiled broadly, exposing his white teeth. “Yeah. You should try it, mate.”

I kept jerking my cock furiously, surprised and captivated by what he was doing.

He kept smiling and saying, “Yeah… aah…” His hand began moving in and out from between his thighs and it was obvious that his finger was penetrating his hole.

Still grinning, he opened his eyes and looked at me. “It feels so fucking good… you wanna try it…”

I reached down to my hole with my own left hand but he quickly withdrew his from his arse and grabbed it. Then he raised my left hand to my face and said, “You need to lick your finger else it hurts like hell.”

As he did so, and his left hand came close to my nose, I got a waft of the smell of his arse on his middle finger. It was a thick, musky smell: sweaty and unmistakably anal. I really enjoyed it: partly because smelling that part of him added to our sense of intimacy, and partly because he was totally unapologetic about it. He must have smelt it too, but he seemed altogether comfortable about having me share it.

He returned his finger to his arse as I pushed mine in between my lightly hairy cheeks and found my own puckered hole. I extended the wet end of it about two or three centimetres in and then withdrew it. It felt kind of bizarre and I looked back toward him, watching me.

He said, “It gets better. Give it a chance.”

I did as he suggested and, for a minute or so, we both sat facing each other in silence, each of us rapidly masturbating our cocks and, using the same rhythm with the other hand, fingering our arseholes.

Then Gould started really getting into it. He raised himself up and squatted on the mattress in front of me, bobbing up and down onto his finger as he frantically wanked his cock. His right hand was a blur at it shot up and down along the full length of his organ, and the fat head of his cock had turned a deep purple colour, as if it was ripe and ready for release. He began panting and grunting but managed to whisper between breaths, “It’s better… if you really… sit on it…”

He raised himself further so that, in my sitting position, I got a much better view of his sweat-dampened finger sliding rapidly in and out of his hairy arse cleft. I think he really enjoyed me looking at him because, still bobbing up and down and grunting in his pleasure, he pushed his hips towards my face so that his cock, balls and arse were just a foot or so away from me.

I guess I enjoyed it too because the sight of him so close – his thick cock being pounded in his fist, his large ball sac bobbing up and down and his slick finger pummelling his sweaty hole – sent me over the edge into my own orgasm. I felt my semen squirting in thick gobs all over my chest and down my belly.

Then I felt Gould’s semen raining down on me from above, dripping in strings into my hair and down my face.

Even before he’d stopped, while his cock was still spurting white jets over me, he laughed surprisingly loudly.

When it had subsided, breathlessly, but still laughing, he apologised. “Jesus! Sorry, mate. Christ – that’s kind of embarrassing.”

I said, “Don’t worry about it.” I felt like I was drenched in cum. It ran down my cheeks and dripped from my chin onto my own already wet and sticky cock.

He sat back down on his pillow and looked me over, chuckling. He didn’t seem to have a single drop of it on him.

He said, “What did you think of the arse fingering thing?”

It felt a bit weird him asking me that straight after what we’d done together. The way he’d said it: as casual as him asking, “What did you think of the exam?” or “What did you think of the treacle pudding?”

We’d just masturbated together, primarily instigated by me, and, even though I hadn’t yet got my breath back, I was already starting to feel like I needed some time on my own to think about it.

After a few seconds, I managed, “I dunno… I didn’t really get into it.”

“Yeah it took me a while, as I remember. But it’s pretty good once you get the hang of it… it really intensifies your orgasm.”

Another drip of his cum oozed downwards from my chin in a long string and slowly found its way down onto my stomach.

I said, “Yeah, I noticed…”

He laughed again and then got up off the bed.

Bending over with his arse towards me, he picked up his watch from the tangle of the duvet and discarded clothes on the floor.

Looking at it, he muttered, “Eight minutes ’til the alarm goes off… I think we’d better get a shower…”

I nodded and stayed on the bed while he walked over to the bathroom and began cleaning himself up.

By now, I was feeling a bit disgusted with myself for licking his cock while he was asleep. Jesus, the guy was my teacher: I’d never be able to look at him in school again without thinking, “I’ve licked the end of your nob, sir.” It would start really getting to me. I’d have to avoid him, maybe even ask my parents if I could change schools.

***

Later in the day the whole group of us was having lunch in the museum cafe at Ypres . Simon and I were sitting together, away from the other lads, having a sandwich and a can of coke.

He asked me why I was being quiet and I just shrugged.

Behind him, I noticed Gould talking to one of the other young teachers in the group, Mr Vaughan. Vaughan taught Chemistry to the sixth form and, apart from the fact that he and Gould ran hiking trips with some of the older lads, I didn’t know much about him.

Simon asked if I was feeling bad about us sharing a bed the night before.

I threw him an irritated glare. “Jesus, Simon. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah I know. But I thought, maybe you felt… you know…”

I noticed that, as Gould talked, Vaughan kept looking over at Simon and I. As if Gould was telling him everything.

I felt embarrassed and tried to busy myself with the ring-pull on my coke can to hide it.

Then, after Simon had ran out of things to say and was just sitting looking dolefully at me, Gould came over to us.

He said, “Guys. Mr Vaughan – Toby – has a leak above his bed. One of the water pipes. I said he could share with us tonight as long as it’s okay with you two…?

I looked at Simon and he stared back at me.

Gould went on, “He’s a good laugh. We’ve been halfway around the Himalayas together. He’s pretty much like me – it takes a lot to freak him out.”

Simon just kept staring at me so I looked up at Gould and nodded. “Yeah. Sounds cool.”

He grinned. “Nice one, Seb. That okay with you too, Simes?”

Simon nodded, wide-eyed.

Gould’s grin got bigger. “Great stuff. He’s a nice guy – and it’ll mean I have some company too tonight… someone my own age…”

He walked off and Simon and I just stared at each other.

I wondered if Gould was bringing Vaughan in to ‘protect’ him from me: just in case I was going to ‘sleepwalk’ again. Or whether there was more to it than it: perhaps he wanted a witness or something.

Or, there again, whether there was nothing to it at all and I was being paranoid.

Simon said, “What did he mean by that last comment? About him having company?”

I shrugged. “I dunno.”

“D’you think their gonna… you know…? Like we did?”

That hadn’t occurred to me.

He went on, “I mean, they’re hiking mates, aren’t they? And after all that stuff he said about hiking trips…?”

And from then I stopped feeling bad about what I’d done and instead started wondering what lay ahead…

 

Part 5 

12th December 2002: I had one extra part left to write of this story but I just wasn’t comfortable with the corner I’d painted myself into here. Even all these years later, I can’t see how I can finish the story as I really don’t think two young straight-acting blokes would have gay sex together right in front of their students. I’m still open to suggestions, though, and would be happy to write the final part if someone can offer a convincing (and not too inappropriate!) conclusion…

My mates kept taking the piss out of Simon and I throughout the afternoon. We were now sharing a room with not one but two teachers and, apparently, that was very amusing.

Jed was by far the worst. “It’s ‘cos you two are notorious bum-boys. It’s taking two members of staff to keep an eye on you both. They’ve had to set up a shift system.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Simon snapped. “The only fucking shift system is going to involve your nose moving across your face.”

“Like you’re capable of that.”

“Yeah like I fucking am.”

And on it went.

On the coach on the way back to the hostel, Simon sat on his own, staring out of the window, making no secret of how angry he was. I pretended to be oblivious to their jokes and taunts: it was only because Simon was taking it so badly that they were continuing. In actuality, I knew that most of my mates were well aware that it would be quite a laugh to share with Gould and Vaughan. They were both easy-going members of staff, both a lot of fun in lessons, and I think most of the lads on the trip would have regarded it as only a minor inconvenience to have had to share a room with them.

Simon was livid about it all, though. The fact that he and I had played around with each other a little in bed the night before, no doubt given the confidence to do so by Mr Gould’s relaxed attitude to male affection and intimacy, was obviously at the forefront of his mind. Any aspersions made about his sexuality were not as easily dismissed by him as they might otherwise have been.

The jokes continued throughout tea and Simon remained snappy and sullen. When I managed to talk to him on his own I told him he should lighten up. “By getting angry, you’re just making it worse. It’s like you’ve something to hide…”

He nodded. “Yeah, I know. But they’re fucking me off. They’re so immature.”

I smiled. “They’re just messing around. They don’t believe what they’re saying.”

He didn’t smile back as I’d expected. His eyes were cold and intense. “It’s just that… a couple of days ago I’d have made the same jokes. But now, after last night…”

“Are you upset about what we did… angry with me?”

He looked surprised. “No, no – of course not!”

“With Gould?”

Now he looked puzzled. “No. Why should I be?” His face softened. “I’m not really angry with anyone. I just don’t like little boys making jokes about things they don’t understand…”

We were interrupted by Dobby coming over to tell us that everyone was going to the bar. They were going to show an old black and white movie about the First World War. We were all entitled to a free coke.

Simon said, “Whoopideedoodah” and then headed off to our room.

I thought I ought to go to the bar otherwise the jokes would be even cruder next day on the way back to England .

In the event, the movie was only really background noise to the conversation and buzz in the bar. I spent most of the evening playing pool with a couple of my mates; the other guys were playing darts or cards, or having competitions on the pinball machine while the staff sat around a couple of tables, smoking and getting drearily pissed together. I think they’d just switched the movie on so that they could reach their quota of “educational activities” that they have to lay on when they’re running a trip. They can’t possibly have expected anyone to actually be interested in it.

As I was playing pool, I kept wondering why Simon had taken the jokes about the two of us so badly. The whole thing had escalated because one guy made a stupid comment and Simon over-reacted. He’d just proved himself to be an easy target. Normally jokes like that would just wash over him. He’d either give as good as he’d received, or just say “Yeah yeah yeah” and shake his head like it was all beneath him.

I wondered if maybe he was feeling a bit vulnerable because we were so far from home, but, again, he’d never shown himself to be the kind of guy to get homesick when we were at boarding school.

Perhaps he was gay, or was having homosexual feelings at the minute. That seemed more plausible. He’d always been a bit reticent about coming onto girls; a bit shy around them. I guess I’d always put it down to us being in an all-male school: some boys in such schools find the idea of girls a slightly scary concept to handle.

If he was gay it didn’t bother me. It made me feel a bit guilty that the stuff we’d done together last night, something which I’d regarded as just the two of us messing around together under the duvet, had affected him more deeply.

I’d have to be more careful with him. Not in the sense that I was afraid he’d try to get serious with me – we knew each other too well for that. I’d just have to be aware that while I’d been enjoying getting close to him on the previous evening as a straightforward act of friendship and affection, it had maybe raised a few issues in his mind that he was now finding it difficult to deal with. I’d have to tread a little more softly in future.

At about half past ten, Dobby came over and asked what was up with Simon.

I shook my head. “I dunno. I think he’s just pissed off that he volunteered to share with me and Gould and now it’s all backfired on him. I mean, I was the one who was forced to share with a teacher; he just offered to join me…”

Dobby nodded. “We’re only messing around. It’s not serious.”

“Yeah, but he’s pissed off. I think he was already in a mood because the trip wasn’t as good as he’d thought it would be. Just a bit touchy. Maybe tomorrow you’ll wanna give it a rest…”

Dobby smiled. “After the state we’re all gonna be in tonight, I don’t think anyone’s gonna remember anything about it tomorrow…”

I didn’t know what he meant.

He explained in a whisper, “Foster managed to buy a few bottles of vodka and stuff in Ypres today. We’re gonna get wasted… you wanna join in?”

I laughed. “Like that’s possible. If I get back stinking of booze at two in the morning, I think Gould or Vaughan will notice.”

He nodded. “You could say you’re sleeping on our floor tonight…”

“Naah. To be honest, Simon would probably take it that I was scared to sleep in the same room with him after all the comments about the two of us today. He’d get even more screwed up…”

Dobby grinned and shook his head. “Jesus, Seb. Mr Considerate, or what. He can come to if he wants to. Gould and Vaughan are hardly going to notice, the amount the staff have put back tonight.”

I looked over at the staff table. Empty glasses filled every inch of available space. Some were stacked up, one glass inside the other. But then I noticed Gould and Vaughan weren’t there.

I said, “Where are they, actually?”

Dobby looked disinterested. “I dunno. Maybe they pissed off somewhere for the night. Got a cab over to a nightclub, like we should have… Anyway, the offer’s there if you wanna join us…”

I nodded and then returned to my game.

***

I went up to our room at about eleven.

As I’d expected, Gould and Vaughan were in the room, chatting with Simon. The two men were sitting on Gould’s bed, side by side, backs against the wall. They’d brought up three or four of packs of lager and had worked their way through about half of them. Vaughan was slightly taller than Gould, with short black hair and a handsome, angular face.

Simon was on my bed, opposite them, leaning against the wall. I noticed he had some lager in a plastic cup, next to an opened can and a bottle of lemonade.

He looked a lot more happy. He obviously found the older company to his liking.

Gould grinned and said, “Ah, Sebastian. May I introduce our new room-mate, Mr Tobias Vaughan…”

I curtsied daintily and said, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Vaughan.” I sounded like a milkmaid.

Vaughan laughed. He had nice white teeth.

Gould said, “Well the party can get started now the life and soul has arrived.”

I sat on the bed next to Simon and he moved along on the bed slightly to give me space.

I said, “Throw us a can, then!”

Gould grinned and shook his head, tutting. “You’re a mere fifteen years old. What kind of teacher would I be if I allowed you to drink?”

I looked over at Simon’s opened can. “What – he’s eighteen is he?”

Gould grinned at Simon. “Jesus, Simes. You’re gonna be in serious trouble when we get back. You should have told us to tell you not to accept that… there’s gonna be consequences, young man…”

Simon laughed.

Then Gould reached for a can and threw me one. “You’ve got to dilute it. You can legally drink shandy. Half lemonade, half lager.”

I grinned. “Yeah, right.”

He threw me a serious look. “No, Seb. It’s gotta be shandy. I’m not trying to get you guys pissed…”

“Like a can of lager’s gonna get me pissed…”

“That’s as maybe. But you’re still underage so you’ve gotta drink shandy…”

I saw that he was serious and realised he was doing this for his own protection.

He added, “And it’s one can maximum.”

I was beginning to get a bit irritated. “My dad lets me drink two.”

“You dad isn’t at risk of being fired for that, though, is he?”

I got up and went and got a plastic cup out of the bathroom. I was slightly annoyed, but I could see exactly why they were having to be careful. If I got wasted with them and told them some stuff I shouldn’t have, something they’d have to act on like Foster’s vodka party, we’d have all been in a very difficult position.

I sat back down and made up a shandy with the lager and Simon’s lemonade. I was going to suggest that I just drink the can on its own – make some manly comment about preferring the taste – but I thought it would only end up with Gould and I having an argument and the mood in the room turning sour.

So I just drank the shandy and shut up about it.

Gould said, “We were just talking about hiking stuff. I thought I’d bored you guys enough, but Simon’s been asking us about it.” He turned to Simon. “You’re thinking of coming along to Nepal in the summer, aren’t you?”

Simon nodded. “I’ve never done any climbing but I like the idea of hiking and camping with a group of mates -”

Vaughan interrupted, looking at me, “That’s what the Nepal trip is. Walking from Kathmandu to Latipur. It’s the foothills of the Himalayas so there’s no actual climbing.” Vaughan seemed to be addressing himself to me, as if trying to get me interested.

“Just a few steep bits,” added Gould.

Simon nodded again. “Sounds perfect, actually.”

Vaughan said, again looking at me, “The scenery’s pretty spectacular…”

Simon took a swig from his cup. “To be honest, it could be a trek across the Norfolk broads and I’d be up for it. I just like the idea of getting away with a group of guys for a couple of weeks. I think it’d be cool…”

Gould smiled. “My stories obviously didn’t put you off…”

Simon shook his head. “I like the idea of getting to know people so well, getting so comfortable with them. I mean, don’t take it the wrong way, but all that male bonding stuff would have sounded a bit freaky to me a few days ago, but now I’m kind of getting to like the idea…”

Vaughan nodded. “I love getting away from everything with a group of guys. It’s just nice to get away from everything with people who have similar interests, people who understand each other…”

I asked, “So it’s a boys-only trip? No girls?”

Vaughan nodded. “Would that put you off?”

I shrugged. “Not really -”

Gould chipped in, “We take mixed groups on some of our trips.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t really bother me. I suppose, if I had a girlfriend, it would be nice to go with her. But spending a couple of weeks with a group of guys wouldn’t scare me off…”

“You get to know people very closely,” Gould said. “Like I was saying last night, you get intimate on every level…”

Vaughan laughed. “And we mean every level, don’t we, Brendan.” He nudged Gould theatrically and threw him an exaggerated wink.

Simon and I chuckled but Gould was being serious. “But you do, Toby. I mean, it’s natural for guys to get so intimate when they’re spending every day with each other and getting cooped up together every night over a couple of weeks…”

Vaughan smiled. “Yeah. I know. You know I know.”

Gould went on, “Like I was telling you lads last night, everyone needs a bit of affection sometimes. If you’ve only got your mates around you, then it’s natural that you’ll be there for each other…”

I finished my cup of shandy and nodded. Then I poured another, giving myself a more generous amount of lemonade to make the lager last longer.

Simon said, “Yeah, I’m okay with all of that. I mean, I was a bit stunned by it when you first told me about it, but – like you say – it’s natural that that kind of stuff is gonna happen…”

Vaughan took a couple of swigs from his can and then said, “Yeah. It’s gonna happen. Brendan and I, and just about all of the staff who go hiking and camping, are totally comfortable about that. Some guys aren’t – just a few and they tend to be the older ones – but most guys who’ve ever been away together for any reasonable length of time are.”

Then Gould said, “It’s like the two of us. We’re totally comfortable around one another. In fact,” he glanced at Vaughan , “we thought we’d share this bed tonight if you guys are okay with that…”

I looked at Simon. He nodded. I must admit I was slightly surprised.

Gould saw my reaction and went on, “I mean, we’ve shared a sleeping bag for a couple of nights when…” He looked at Vaughan again and smiled. “… a certain person fell into a river and got his totally soaked.”

Vaughan grinned. “You had to bring that up…”

Gould continued, “So it’s not a problem for us.”

Vaughan said, “It’s not ideal, especially when he’s asleep and he thinks I’m his wife, but it’s better than sleeping on the floor…”

I laughed. “Yeah, whatever. I’m okay with it…”

Gould said, “It’s a cold night. The room’s like a fridge. I reckon doubling up is actually the only sensible option…”

It didn’t feel too cold to me but I nodded.

Vaughan agreed with him. “Yeah. If I were you guys, I’d think of doing the same.”

Simon looked at me. He looked hesitant; wanting to see what my reaction was before revealing his own.

I thought again of his behaviour this afternoon; of his being so upset about the other guys’ jokes that he might be gay. I couldn’t make him think that the idea of sharing with him was scary to me; that I didn’t trust him. So I just shrugged and said, “Not a problem for me, Simon.”

He turned back to them. “Yeah. Sounds cool…”

I realised that they were probably trying to get us to bunk up together because of my surprised reaction to hearing that they were planning to do it. If the four of us did it, because of the ‘cold’, it wouldn’t seem in any way unusual. And, of course, having done the same thing ourselves, Simon and I wouldn’t be likely to spread gossip around about them when we got back to school.

Vaughan stood up and said, “Well, I’m gonna get ready for bed, if it’s okay with you guys. We’re up pretty early tomorrow…”

He started unbuttoning his checked shirt as Gould gulped down the last few mouthfuls of his can.

Simon stood up and asked, “If I come to Nepal , would there be any chance of sharing a tent with you guys? I mean, you seem totally cool about stuff – it’d be a good laugh…”

Vaughan pulled off his shirt. He was wearing a tight fawn Radiohead teeshirt underneath it. His chest was large and muscular, his stomach tight. He was clearly a pretty hairy guy: curly black hairs overflowed from the neckline of his teeshirt.

He grinned and said, “As long as you’re aware that we have a strict no masturbation policy.”

Gould nodded sagely and then stood up to get undressed too.

Simon laughed. “Like you could enforce that.”

Vaughan sat down on the bed and started untying his shoe laces. “Oh yes. We’re very strict. We check for semen stains on an hourly basis.”

I laughed. “That’s so gross!” Then I finished off the weak shandy, preparing to down the rest of can before bed.

Simon started pulling off his shirt. “Well the same has to apply to you two. And if last night was anything to go by, Brendan would be one of the first to end up in detention.”

Gould chuckled. “You guys started it. I was only being polite by joining in…”

Vaughan laughed loudly. His face was warm and affectionate when he laughed, his blue eyes twinkling. “Mis-ter Gould!” he cried out. “I can’t believe you would debase yourself in such a way in front of two innocent young boys!”

Gould giggled. “Innocent? These two?” He looked over at us and we grinned at him.

Vaughan shouted, primly, “Beasts of the field!”

I said, “Surely it’d be more weird if you were sharing a room or tent with some guys and they didn’t masturbate. I mean, so long as they were our age or older…”

Gould said, “Exactly.” He pulled off his shirt and was wearing a black vest underneath it. Like Vaughan ‘s teeshirt, it was pretty tight and nicely filled with his muscular chest and stomach.

Vaughan pulled off his second boot and unrolled his sock from his large hairy foot. He said, “They can be a lot younger than you, mate.” He stood back up and started unbuckling his belt, turning to Gould. “Remember those couple of lads who we camped with on the Alps …”

“Oh yeah. That third form group?”

“Yeah. Brendan and I didn’t think they were wanking yet, ‘cos nothing ever happened after lights out, so we were having to nip off behind the bushes to… you know… sort ourselves out.”

He looked at me and grinned sheepishly like he was slightly embarrassed to be admitting that he masturbated. I grinned back; I loved his smile.

He continued, “Anyway, after a few nights, they started playing around together. Doing… er… what did those guys call it? Cock sports or something…?”

“Cock wrestling,” Gould said, smiling. He sat back down on the bed and started untying his boots as Vaughan had.

“Yeah, that’s it. They’d roll around on each other, rubbing their cocks against together. Huggin’ each other, sort of… one lad humping the other…”

Simon laughed. “Sounds like the stuff kids do…”

Vaughan laughed too. “Well, that’s pretty much what they were! They were younger than you guys…”

I asked, “How old?”

“I dunno… thirteen or fourteen or something…”

Gould grinned. “It was kind of funny. We turned off the light one night and within, like, ten minutes or something we heard them start gasping and grunting…”

“Yeah – then one of us turned the light back on…”

“And the two of them were lying there, one on the other, rubbing their dicks into each other, kind o’ like one lad fucking the other but just pressing their cocks together…”

“Yeah – and then one of said, ‘Come on, Sir. We’re only cock wrestling…'”

We all laughed. Vaughan pulled down his trousers, revealing his muscular hairy legs and a pair of white briefs, very well packed at the front by a hefty-looking bulge.

I asked, “And they’d spunk up like that… together?”

Vaughan said, like I was dumb, “Well, you know, Seb, I think that might have been the outcome, now you mention it…”

Gould chuckled and, more to my irritation, Simon did too. Like he was so fucking world-wise and I was a little naive schoolboy.

Simon asked, pulling off one of his shoes, “So what did you do? Did you join in?”

“Well kind of…”

Gould interrupted, “Let’s remember that we were invited to join in…”

Vaughan grinned. “Oh yeah, that’s right… they told us we should have a go.”

“They reckoned we’d enjoy it.”

The two of them grinned at each other, obviously entertained by the memories. I noticed Vaughan ‘s briefs give a sudden movement like his cock was stirring inside them.

Simon asked, “And did you?”

Vaughan said, walking into the bathroom, “Well you know it gets kinda tough up there with just a small group of guys…” He raised his voice over the sound of running water, “Pissing off into the bushes for a wank when no-one’s looking… scared that you’re gonna get caught wazzin’ off by some of the lads you teach in 3B… I mean, you can imagine the difficulties…”

Gould looked straight at me, smirking broadly, and I nodded and grinned.

“So when an opportunity to do it in the comfort of your tent presents itself,” he continued. “Well, it’s kind of tempting to accept it.” The sounds of him brushing his teeth came out from the bathroom.

Simon grinned incredulously. “You started humping each other?”

Gould smiled, pulling down his jeans. “Cock wrestled each other. Get it right…”

I asked, “In front of them…?”

“Well, they were kind of distracted, they were doing their own thing…” He was wearing the navy blue briefs I’d seen him put on that morning. His bulge was also impressive and the material was stretched tight around the obvious rod made by his thick, limp cock.

“They still managed to check us out,” Vaughan called out, through a mouth full of toothpaste.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I saw them… glancing over at us…”

Gould laughed. “I thought they were totally cool with it. Totally oblivious…”

“I think they were pretty cool with it. They were just curious… you know… checking out our dicks and stuff…”

“I guess they’d never seen the sumo version of what they were up to…”

Simon pulled down his trousers, revealing a pair of briefs with a dark green paisley pattern on them. After the sight of the two men’s bulges, his looked a bit disappointing.

He asked, “So you started humping each other when you were camping and stuff…?”

Vaughan came back into the room, wiping his mouth with his towel. “With those lads, yeah. They were easy with it, so we were. Like you said before, it gets kind of lonely when you’re so far from other people… you miss your girlfriend, your wife… you know. It nice to have someone to hold, to mess around with a bit, without anyone getting hung up about it being ‘gay’ or ‘queer’ or any crap like that…”

Gould grinned and picked up his own toiletries bag. “Someone to be with when you’re feeling horny, basically…”

Vaughan chuckled. “Yeah – that pretty much sums it up.” He turned to us and smiled. “Just because there are no girls around – no women, whatever – doesn’t mean that Mr Chips doesn’t need a bit of fun…” He glanced down at the large bulge made by his cock inside his briefs in case we were in any doubt about what he was referring to.

I stood up and started undressing, grinning. “I dunno – it sounds kind of weird. To just lie there while another guy climbs on top of you and… you know… fucks you like you’re a girl. I don’t think I could get into that…”

Vaughan shook his head. “No, Seb. It’s not like that. It’s nothing like straight sex… there’s no ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ position. It’s not like one guy gives it while the other takes. It’s just two guys’ cocks messing around together: rolling around on each other, pressing into each other, one trying to poke the other…”

Gould called out from the bathroom, “Actually, the analogy to wrestling is pretty accurate…” I could hear his stream of piss hitting the water inside the toilet.

Simon reached for his toothbrush and asked, “How’s it compare with the real thing?”

Vaughan looked puzzled. “What do you mean ‘real thing’?”

“You know… being with a girl…?”

Vaughan smiled. “I dunno… it’s different…” He pulled a face like he was considering the question. Then, after a few seconds, he went on, “I guess it’s nice as an alternative… but if my girlfriend was into camping and we were sharing a tent, I wouldn’t exactly miss it -”

“I don’t really get it,” I interrupted. “I mean… how do you get off on it… how’s it work?”

Vaughan stared at me like what I was asking was ridiculous. I felt my face flush slightly.

I tried to clarify myself. “I mean… do you, like, wank yourselves off while you’re doing it? I can see how a couple of young lads could get off on just rubbing their dicks into each other, but what about you two?”

Vaughan smiled. “There’s no actual wanking – it’s just two dicks wrestling with each other… what else is there to say…?”

Gould came back into the room, the sounds of the flushing toilet behind him. I noticed a couple of dribbles of piss on the front of his briefs where the tip of his cock was.

He seemed to catch my drift a little more than Vaughan had. He said, “We didn’t masturbate while those lads were in the tent with us. It wasn’t something they did openly so we just followed their lead. We can’t be the ones to start things off; we can’t suggest taking things a step further – otherwise we’d have been placing ourselves in a very dodgy position -”

“‘Dodgy’?” I asked.

Gould continued, “Well, if you’re in a situation of forced intimacy, and some of the lads want to have a wank last thing at night, it’s pretty natural for the men in the same tent to join in. It’s not so natural – and, I guess, verging on immoral – for the men to start doing stuff together to try and draw the younger guys in; to try and encourage them to experiment…”

Vaughan got the point and nodded. “Oh yeah… the ideas have to come from the lads. You can’t risk getting accused of leading younger guys astray or something…”

Gould went on, “And you’ve gotta know when to say ‘no’. You’ve got to have the boundaries clear in your own mind and not let go of it.”

He looked at me and I nodded. We both knew he was referring to what had happened that morning.

Simon asked, looking at Vaughan who was kneeling down to put his dirty clothes into his holdall, “So if a group of lads were wanking in the tent, you’d join in?”

Vaughan laughed. “Yeah. Course I would. As long as they weren’t freaked out. And no-one ever has been…”

Simon nodded. “So if Seb and I started up after lights out, you’d be up for it too?”

Vaughan said, standing up again, “Yeah, I was kind of hoping you might. There hasn’t been much opportunity to sort myself out over in the staff bedroom. I’m not sure Captain Birdseye would approve of the younger members of staff giving into their animal urges…” He gave the front of his briefs an affectionate rub.

Simon and I laughed. Captain Birdseye was the students’ name for one of the older teachers in our group.

Then Simon asked, “Even though you’re sharing a bed with Mr Gould?”

Vaughan laughed and said, “Jesus! The number of trips we’ve been on together… we’re hardly gonna get hung up about one of us having a wank…” Then he called through to Gould, who was brushing his teeth. “You wouldn’t mind the bed shaking for a few minutes, would you?”

Gould stopped brushing and called out, “I might make it shake even more…”

I asked, pulling off my socks, “Would you guys wanna… you know… cock wrestle?” I was intrigued to know what it would look like.

Vaughan sat back down on Gould’s bed and said, “It has to come from you guys. But if you guys were okay with it and wanted to try it together, then I reckon Toby and I would be up for joining in…”

I went on, “So if one of us was to… you know… suck the other lad’s cock -” I saw Simon turn and give me a shocked look from the corner of my eye. His face rapidly turned a deep scarlet, like a character from a cartoon who’s fallen into a fire. I went on, “I mean, not that we would. But if we did…”

Vaughan ‘s expression didn’t change. He shrugged and said, “Well I wouldn’t have a problem with it -”

I interrupted, “But would you join in?”

Vaughan gave a small smirk and Gould stopped brushing his teeth again, waiting to hear the response.

He said, grinning, “Brendan and I are totally cool with each other…”

“But would you join in?”

Vaughan shrugged again. “If you guys wanna play around together, then that’s kind of nice. Nice you’re so comfortable with each other. If Brendan wanted some of the same, and I was feeling that way too, then I know from the trips we’ve been on that neither of us gets hung up about each other’s bodies, cocks, sex, whatever…” I heard Gould spitting out the toothpaste and running the water.

“So you would?”

Gould came out from the bathroom again and Vaughan looked at him. Gould was smirking and gave a small shrug. “Yeah… it’s possible… maybe more than possible…”

I turned to Simon. He looked a lot less embarrassed but threw me a withering glare. Like he was saying, “Why did you have to bring that up?” Then he picked up his stuff and went off into the bathroom.

I turned back to Vaughan and Gould. I liked the idea of seeing them suck each other. It’d be interesting watching two guys do that.

Pulling down my jeans and aware that my cock was semi-hard inside my briefs, I asked, “You’ve done it before, right?”

Vaughan looked at Gould once again. But Gould didn’t look back at him this time; he chose to answer the question himself. “Like I told you the other night, it’s not exactly unusual to find guys coupling up when you’re all cooped up together. Hand-jobs lead to other stuff…”

“Mouth-jobs”, I reminded him of the term he’d used.

“Yeah.” He nodded, glancing at the mound at the front of my light blue briefs. “So if the students are so cool with it, and I’m with a guy I’m comfortable with, then it would seem kind of prissy not to follow suit…”

“So you have?”

Before Gould could respond, Vaughan laughed and then said, “Like this wouldn’t be right round the fifth form within a day of us getting back to England …” He obviously thought Gould was getting a little too close to the truth.

But then Gould sat down next to him on the bed and said, “If you want to talk totally openly it has to be on the same terms as last night…”

Vaughan looked at him. He asked, “Last night?” He seemed to be genuine; it seemed that Gould hadn’t told him about our conversations or that Simon and I had been experimenting a little after lights out. Otherwise he was a very good actor.

Gould shook his head. “Never mind.” Then he turned back to me. “You know what I’m saying. Nothing goes further than these four walls…”

I nodded. I could hear Simon spitting toothpaste into the sink.

Gould kept up his serious look. He said, “If you start gossiping about us, that gives us the right to spread stories about you two…”

Vaughan was staring at me, a slight grin on his face. He knew exactly the kind of stuff Gould was alluding to. I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.

I nodded again.

Simon came out from the bathroom. Gould looked up at him and said, “This is all strictly between the four of us, right?”

Simon looked at me and then back at Gould. He nodded.

Gould smiled. “Nice one. Okay. Yes, if the lads have been okay with it and started things off, both of us have joined in on occasions…”

Vaughan laughed and turned to Gould. “I remember the first time I caught you getting head. I came over to your tent – you and Gav were sharing it with a couple of fifth-formers – to ask what we were doing the next morning. You and one of the lads were sitting against the back of the tent; Gav’s head was working at your dick and the other lad was getting seen to by his mate.”

Gould grinned and chuckled. “Oh yeah. I remember.”

“I asked you about the stuff we were doing next day and you chatted to me like nothing was going on. The fifth-former next to you, I forget who it was, even chipped in with a couple of suggestions about what time we should aim to leave the camp while his cock was being sucked…”

Gould laughed. “Yeah. Gav wasn’t too good at giving head. Good climber, good teacher, crap cock-sucker. I reckon I could have taught a Maths lesson with his mouth clamped to my cock without getting overly distracted by what he was doing…”

The three of us laughed and I heard Gould mutter to Vaughan , “Fucking good at the other, though.” Vaughan grinned broadly and nodded.

Simon seemed oblivious to this. He sat back down on the edge of my mattress and asked, “So you were talking about stuff while Gould and the other lad were getting sucked off…?”

Vaughan smiled. “Yeah. I think I was more distracted than Brendan. I had two guys’ arses right in front of my face. Gav and the other guy were bent over on all fours while they were doing their thing – their two arseholes staring at me like a couple of pink eyes.”

Simon and I laughed again.

Vaughan continued, “It was me who kept losing the thread. I think I had to ask you both about four times what time sunrise was… but I guess it was only then that I thought, ‘Jesus, why aren’t I doing this?’ I mean, I’d wanted to but I’d always thought it would have been immoral or something.”

I asked, “You’d never done anything with another guy until then?”

Vaughan shook his head. “No, I’m not saying that. I’d done stuff when I was at school and Uni. I mean, when you’re so close to a group of other lads for a couple of weeks, it’s inevitable that stuff is going to happen between some of you. I’d wanked with my mates, we’d sucked each other and even… done other stuff sometimes… but I’d always been hung up about joining in as a teacher.

“But then I thought, ‘If the lads are okay with it, what the hell am I getting so worried about?’ And I guess I just went with it after that.”

I asked, “Have you guys ever done it together?”

Vaughan nodded. “Yeah.” He turned to Gould and asked, “That’s no secret, is it?”

Gould shook his head and shrugged. “As long it stays between the four of us…”

Simon and I muttered that it would. Of course it would.

Vaughan stood up and pulled his teeshirt off. His chest was thickly covered in dense swirls of black hair. He went on, “It’s kind of nice, actually. I mean, we know what each other likes and it’s nice to be so close to another guy sometimes. Sharing pleasure together. It’s good to be like that – especially when you’re climbing and your lives literally depend on each other. I think the intimate stuff is actually a necessary part of that…”

He grinned and said, “Now you’re shocked.”

I shook my head and noticed Simon was too.

Vaughan put his teeshirt into his holdall and said, “Or you think we’re ‘gay’ or whatever word you guys use…”

I said, “No. I agree with you. I think it’s good for guys to be like that together. I don’t think it’s gay at all…”

Gould stood up and pulled off his vest. He said, “I think if you’re sleeping with another guy, being with him all day, getting to know him so closely, it’s obvious that you’ll want to share each other’s moments of pleasure too…”

Simon and I nodded.

Vaughan pulled off his briefs. I wondered why he was changing them before getting into bed but then thought maybe it was because he was sharing. He stuffed them into his holdall but didn’t reach in for a fresh pair as I’d expected. He just stood back up, his large cock looking slightly hard, sticking up from his balls at an angle of about twenty degrees.

He went on, “It’s just nice to get the tent up and settle down for the night. Sometimes it’s the only quiet moment you get all day. The lads piss around, of course, but then, if they want to, they get together and snuggle up. That’s a nice part of the day. Lads who have been at each other’s throats since breakfast can come together last thing at night and just enjoy each other’s company without saying anything. If that involves some sex – a little bit of rubbing, a little bit of sucking – then, to me, that seems totally natural…”

Vaughan lay down on the bed, naked.

Gould pulled off his own briefs, revealing his own semi-hard cock, looking thicker than Vaughan ‘s but a little shorter.

He was saying, “It’s interesting that, when there’s mixed camps with girls’ tents and boys’ tents, the lads spend most of their time trying to sneak off with the girls. But when girls aren’t there, the same lads will just settle down together and, without feeling like they need to excuse or explain themselves, enjoy being intimate with one another. It’s just seen as a perfectly acceptable – expected, even – alternative…”

He threw his vest and briefs over onto the top of his rucksack and got onto the bed with Vaughan . Both men were on their sides, Vaughan behind Gould. Vaughan put his right arm over Gould’s chest and gently caressed his fingers through the short curly hair.

I was kind of surprised to see them like that – two grown men sharing a bed together and totally unashamed about doing so – but tried to act like nothing was wrong. I looked over at Simon who was staring at them, open-mouthed.

I managed to ask, “And you’ve joined in…”

Vaughan nodded. “Yeah. Occasionally. Well, quite often, actually.” He laughed and Gould chuckled too. I noticed Gould’s cock was lengthening gradually as Vaughan gently caressed his chest. It was standing up of its own accord, looking about seven inches long. His foreskin was slowly unfurling across its fat red head and the stem was visibly pulsating as it thickened.

Gould said, “I’d agree with Toby that it’s often the nicest part of the day. You can spend all day shouting at the lads you’re with – telling them off for not taking the climb seriously, for not sticking to all the safety rules and stuff – but then when you’re all together in the tent at night, you can stop being so stern, stop being so distant and aloof. Then you can show that, while ten year’s older than them, you feel like they do. You’re a bit scared to be so far away from what you know; that you’re as lonely as hell; that you need as much affection as they do. And so when Toby is sucking my cock in front of them, while they’re doing their thing with each other, they look over at me and I smile. I don’t feel ashamed or embarrassed to be like that: I’m just showing that I need someone else with me; that the affection and trust we feel for each other runs a lot deeper than just being climbing-mates.”

They went quiet for a minute and I looked at Simon. He looked at my briefs like he wanted me to pull them off. I said, “I’ll just brush my teeth,” and then I walked out to the bathroom.

As I squirted toothpaste onto my brush, I heard Vaughan say, “I remember one of the nicest times was when you and I were in Tibet with a group of fifth-formers. They were at each other all day – they seemed to really piss each other off…”

Gould asked, “Was that the time there was eight of them?”

“Yeah. Eight and the two of us. All they did was bicker and quarrel. But then, at night, their arguments would fizzle out and their need for affection would just take over. We’d have an hour of quietness before we went to sleep. They’d been on a few trips before and were totally happy with the idea of coupling up together as a way of settling down for the night. I think you and I joined in on maybe the first or second night – usually it takes a while longer for us all to get to know the lads well enough.”

Gould laughed. “That was the time that – one night towards the end of the trip – two of them started fucking and one of the other guys said we should report them to the school for it.”

I laughed as I spat toothpaste down the sink. I heard Simon ask, “What did you do?”

There was a pause and then Gould said, the smirk on his face obvious from his voice, “Well, we reported it to the school. Like good little teachers.”

I walked out of the bathroom and laughed again. “Yeah, right…”

Vaughan said, “We can tell them what we really did. They’re not gonna make a big thing of it…”

Gould shook his head. “I dunno… it was kind of… you know… out of order…” I noticed Vaughan was a lot closer to Gould. His chest was pressed up against the other guys’ back and his arm was holding onto Gould’s chest more tightly. Gould’s cock was now fully erect and pulsing upwards in mid-air in front of his stomach.

Simon piped up, “No, go on. We’re not gonna spread it round. You’ve already got our word on that…”

Vaughan said, “It wasn’t, like, anything immoral. It just links in with what we said earlier… that once the lads start something, we feel that it’s okay to join in.” He said to Gould, “Should I tell them?”

Gould laughed. “I think you just did.”

Vaughan smiled. “Okay. This guy was going on about it being ‘disgusting’ and the two who’d started fucking were really embarrassed. I don’t know how we hadn’t noticed but one of them had slipped a condom on. Then they’d got together in the sleeping bag and one of them had climbed onto the other’s back. I mean, that was pretty common – for lads to get into each other’s sleeping bags and hug each other from the front or from behind. But with these two, they started humping and it became pretty clear that one guy had his cock inside the other lad’s arse.

“So this other lad – he was called Jason or something – started going on and on about it even though Brendan and I were telling him just to be cool with it. We were trying to persuade him that it’s just something that guys do when they’re in close confines. But he wouldn’t shut up and then the lad who had been getting fucked started crying.

“It was looking pretty bad. An argument like that can ruin a trip. When you’re halfway up a mountain and have to trust each other one-hundred percent to get back down, an argument like that have big repercussions…”

Gould nodded. “Yeah. I think, when you put it like that, we did the only thing that could have defused the situation…”

Vaughan went on, his hips gently grinding into Gould’s arse, “Brendan agreed to report it and said that the guys would be in serious trouble when we got back. I was a bit surprised but, obviously, I thought I’d better go along with him. Brendan said something like… er… what was it you said?”

Gould took up the story, “I said, ‘I want to make it clear that none of you are ever to get into the position Mr Vaughan is getting into now…'”

Vaughan chuckled, “Yeah. That’s right. I remember looking over at him and he winked at me. So I got out of my sleeping back, naked and still half-hard, and got on all fours in the middle of the tent. All the lads were looking at me. Jason was nodding wisely, like this was part of a science demonstration.”

Gould went on, “Then I said, ‘And – if you see another guy in the tent do that – you’re not to do this.'”

Vaughan carried on, “He reached and pulled a condom out of his rucksack and got out of his sleeping back. His cock was totally hard.” He saw Simon and I glance down at Gould’s cock and reached down to have a feel of it. He laughed, “Just like it is now, actually!”

Simon and I grinned and Vaughan withdrew his hand, replacing it on his friend’s light fuzz of chest hair.

Gould said, “I tore open the condom and rolled it down my cock. I couldn’t really believe what I was about to do, but like I say, I think it was the right thing given our circumstances…”

Vaughan nodded. “By this stage Jason was looking a bit confused. The science demonstration was taking an unpredictable turn…”

The four of us chuckled.

Gould went on, “I edged forwards behind Toby and positioned my cock between his bum cheeks. Then I said, ‘And doing this is totally against school rules.’ I pushed it in – ”

“You used some lube. Something out of your rucksack. There’s no way it would have gone in if you hadn’t…”

Gould laughed. “Oh yeah. I used something – I don’t remember what. But I managed to get it in and Toby gasped like I’d stabbed him or something.”

Vaughan protested, “Come on – it wasn’t exactly an easy fit. To be honest, I wasn’t sure I was gonna be able to take it…”

“But then I heard him say to the lads, ‘I hope you’re taking all this in. I know I am.’ and I figured he couldn’t be in that much pain.”

We all laughed and then Gould continued. “I kept telling them to follow what I was doing so that they’d know what not to do. I started fucking him, thrusting in and out, telling them to be careful to understand exactly what was going on.”

Vaughan said, “And I was saying, ‘You must never do anything like this. This is a totally unnatural thing for hiking mates to do.'”

Gould concluded, “The guys who’d been caught fucking were both laughing by now and the others were pretty amused too. Jason – or whatever he was called – lightened up a bit. He smiled and shrugged and said, ‘Okay. Point taken’. I don’t think he actually tried it while we were on that trip, but by the upper sixth he was well into it – and, from what I heard, he didn’t restrict it to hiking trips. He turned out to be a fantastic climber too. I remember that.”

Simon asked, “Did any of the other guys try it?”

Vaughan said, “Yeah. I think so. It’s not, like, a totally common thing to see when you’re camping with guys, but it’s common enough for me not to remember who did what where.”

I nodded.

Simon looked at me and then, going a little red, stood up and pulled off his briefs. His cock was fully hard and sprung back upwards from them like a diving board. It was about six inches long and fairly thin, with the ruby-like bell-end glistening from his retracted foreskin.

I followed his lead and took my briefs off. My cock was also fully hard and arched upwards at a length of about eight inches. Gould and Vaughan just lay there, watching us.

I lay down on the bed and gestured for Simon to lie in front of me. He did so and, like Vaughan had done to Gould, I reached over his chest and caressed it. It was smooth and hairless and the muscles beneath the skin were nicely defined.

Simon asked, “If Seb and I were to… you know… try something like that…”

Now it was my turn to be surprised.

He went on, “I’m not saying we would… but if we did… would you be okay with it… would you join in?”

Vaughan smiled and Gould got off the bed. He went over to his rucksack and pulled out a packet of condoms from it. Then he walked over to us, his hard cock swaying from side to side in front of him, and put a few of the condoms on the bedside table near the bed we were sitting on.

He said, “If you’re gonna do that, you’d better use these.”

He walked back over to his own bed and laid the half-full box on their bedside table and said, “And if we join in, we’ll do the same.”

Vaughan got off the bed and went over to his holdall. I finally got to see his cock and was amazed. It was easily the biggest cock I’d ever seen. It curved upwards to a length of nine or ten inches. It wasn’t too thick – probably not even as thick as mine, never mind Gould’s – but it’s length made it look like a monster.

He bent down to reach into his bag, showing us his round hairy buttocks, and then walked over to our bed with his cock arching spectacularly in front of him. He placed a jar of watery-looking hair gel on our bedside table, giving us an amused wink, and then went back over to join Gould.

Gould got back on the bed and gave us a serious look. “Condoms aren’t necessarily about AIDS or whatever. They’re just good sense. Cleaner.”

Simon and I nodded.

Gould lay back and left space for Vaughan in front of him. Vaughan got back onto the bed and this time Gould pressed his chest up against Vaughan ‘s back. His hand reached round to caress Vaughan ‘s densely hairy chest and then worked its way down to the thick fur of his stomach.

Vaughan said, his face now the most serious it had been all evening, “If you want we can pull the duvet over us, if this is freaking you out. Or we can turn off the light.”

Simon and I both said ‘no’ at the same time.

And after that we lay there in silence, me stroking Simon’s chest and stomach; Gould stroking Vaughan’s. I pressed my chest against Simon’s back and he ground his bum into my cock. It felt good and I slowly rubbed myself along the length of his arse cleft.

After a minute or so I ventured to work my hand down to his cock. Vaughan watched me, smiling. Gould’s eyes were closed.

When I touched Simon’s stiff cock he gasped. Gould didn’t open his eyes but he knew what I’d done. He took the cue and reached down with his own hand, wrapping his fingers around Vaughan’s long curving stem. Vaughan closed his eyes.

Then I started masturbating Simon, slowly and gently, and Gould did the same to Vaughan.

It was like looking into a mirror; a mirror with an altered timeframe. Everything I did, Gould did. When Simon reached behind me to caress my arse as I wanked him, Vaughan did the same to Gould. Our actions were alike but their bodies were older, more muscular, more hairy; their cocks larger.

I thought about Simon being gay and worried whether, after his sullenness during the afternoon and evening, this might be screwing him up. But from everything he’d said to Gould and Vaughan, from his actions last night and his erection tonight, it was clear that this was what he wanted.

My final doubts were dispelled when, turning to look at me with a smile, he said, “This is so cool!”

 

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