I was an only child brought up in the late 1940s on an isolated croft, several miles from the nearest town and more than one mile from the nearest neighbours. They were an elderly couple whose family had grown up and moved away. So, for most of my early life, I had no close friends of my own age. This situation changed when I turned eighteen and was in my final year at secondary school. Our neighbours moved to a small house in town, and a new family took over their home. The Smyths, Jane and James, were hard-working, churchgoing, considerate and always willing to help, the sort of upstanding neighbours anyone would wish for. They had eighteen-year-old twins, Brenda and Brian, who joined our school early in the winter term. Brian was placed in the larger all-boy class, while Brenda joined me in the co-ed class.
Co-ed classes were still a rarity in those days, and there was still a distinct separation between boys and girls. Our class had four rows of double desks: two rows for boys on the right side of the room and two rows for girls on the left side, with a path between them along which teachers would prowl on the lookout for inattentiveness or misconduct. Woe betides, if you were caught, for even the merest hint of misbehaviour resulted in acquaintance with the tawse.
I lost out in the clamour for desks on the first morning of the winter term because every other boy had pre-arranged with a friend, they wanted to sit with during the school year. So, I was left on my own with a boys’ desk directly in front of the Teacher’s table. This desk was usually set aside for miscreants because it was always under their eye, and the occupant was an easy target if the Teacher was having a bad day or was in a foul mood. Despite this, the seating arrangement had many advantages for me. I was a book nerd, and it allowed me to concentrate on what I wanted to do: study.
All the girls’ desks were occupied when Brenda came to the school, so she was told to share with me. This arrangement would usually have been a total no-no, but no alternative spaces existed. Furthermore, it was deemed acceptable because our desk was directly in front of the teachers, and we would never be free of their eagle eyes.
As you can imagine, the remainder of the class was ‘very supportive’.
“Hey, the sissy has got a friend” and “She is a tomboy; they are made for each other” were some of their mildest comments. Brenda and I could not do or say anything about their insults, for bullying and harassment were tolerated as character-building by the school, and we were an easy target.
The upside to our situation was that Brenda and I were a perfect academic match. Brenda was clever and as good as or better than any other girl or boy in the class in most subjects. As luck would have it, the ones she struggled with, I liked, and those I found difficult were the ones in which she excelled. So, much to the angst of our classmates, Brenda and I began to spend our lunchtimes together helping each other with schoolwork. At first, we met up in the school or its grounds, but continual harassment meant we had to find a safe area nearby.
Our teachers obviously knew of this bizarre collaboration and, in line with the strict edicts of the time, should have stopped us from getting together unsupervised. However, given that we were discreet and ensured we were never seen together, the teachers turned a blind eye. After all, for them, there was no downside. Two high-flying pupils coming out of their classes would always look good on their annual teaching assessments.
We were, however, caught out on one occasion. Miss Brand, nicknamed Battleaxe, was a spinster teacher with a fiery tongue and a tawse to match. My heart sank when she initially found Brenda and I together. She went bananas, promising us the most painful retribution. But then, to our relief, she quieted down once she realised that we were working on her subject and had just solved a problem that was a complete mystery to everyone else in our class. She said, “Well done. Keep up the good work,” and left. We were not reported to the school. In fact, Miss Brand took us under her wing. She began setting us particularly hard problems to stretch and develop our thinking. Of course, we did not avoid acquaintance with her tawse. That would not have been good for class discipline, but the punishments she meted out to Brenda or me were milder than those received by any others in class.
As the weeks passed, Brenda and I realised that our lunchtime tutorial sessions were insufficient to cope with our increasing workload, so I suggested we could continue them at weekends. At first, she was very much against this idea but finally agreed when she realised how much our assessments were dropping behind. So, every second Saturday, I went to Brenda’s home to work on schoolwork with her. During these visits, I soon realised that all was not sweetness and light in that household. James and Jane had fiery temperaments, and there were days when keeping a very low profile around them was best. For the most part, I could keep out of trouble, but unfortunately, there would be an occasion when I was caught off guard and had to face the consequences.
Given the Puritanical ethos of the time and despite the school’s tolerant approach, Brenda and I could generally only be together while under supervision, so our friendship, although good, was sadly limited to and around schoolwork. In contrast, no such restrictions applied to boys. Brian and I could meet anytime, anywhere and spend time together, provided our parents knew roughly where we were. We soon found we had several interests in common, particularly athletics and hill walking, and so we quickly became good friends.
As eighteen-year-olds, one aspect of our lives that will seem incomprehensible today is our complete ignorance about sex and sexuality. Yes, we were curious about the inexplicable bodily changes that had occurred to us and girls, and we knew that girls and boys were meant to marry and have children. But we knew absolutely nothing about the nitty-gritty of this because it was taboo and never discussed before marriage. Even then, couples often had to rely on snippets of information garnered from friends. A recipe for disaster. It beggars belief that anyone could think this was a suitable way to deal with such an important issue as the physical and psychological relationships between men and women. But the moralist great and good dictated that it was. However, this approach took no account of the all-consuming inquisitiveness and ingenuity of males to find out about intimacy and intercourse. Since girls were off limits to us, it was probably inevitable that as good friends, Brian and I would try to solve some sexual mysteries by ‘playing’ together in ways of which our parents would disapprove.
Brian and I began by swapping fanciful sexual tales that were told by older, supposedly ‘worldly-wise’ lads. These stories were fun, but much of their adult content was utterly lost on us because we were so innocent. However, a story told by one of Brian’s classmates about wanking and its joys grabbed our attention. I still find it hard to admit that Brian and I were so green back then that we knew nothing about masturbating, but the moment we heard about it, we immediately wanted to find out if what it promised was true. Straightaway, we went to an empty cow barn that we used occasionally when we needed shelter from bad weather. Once there, we found a straw-bedded stall, sat side by side, undid the flies of our trousers and drawers, let our cocks spring out and quickly followed the basic instructions on beating the meat provided by the storyteller. The results were terrific. We became highly excited as our todgers got longer, thicker and more rigid in our right hands. I became scared as my breathing became erratic, and my heart started to race when the tension in my dick went through the roof. However, I was soon engulfed in sheer delight and joy as it suddenly began to spasm like mad and shoot out its load of gunk. These amazing reactions left me in a sensual daze and gasping for breath but also took me into an intense state of well-being, the like of which I had never experienced. I could hardly believe the mind-blowing bodily pleasures I had just unleashed by my own hand. As I glanced at Brian, I saw that he was equally elated; his hands were coated in gunk, but he was smiling like a Cheshire cat. In fact, he and I were still on cloud nine and grinning from ear to ear as we made our way home later that afternoon.
Predictably, after this great discovery, I masturbated regularly over the days and weeks that followed, for it brought unbelievable pleasure into my hum-drum life. Even on the worst of days, such as when I got the belt at school, things always felt so much better after getting my cock to erupt like a geyser.
Use of the tawse was widespread in those dark days. So, there were many times after school that one of us needed to wank our troubles away. At first, Brian and I went individually to our safe place when the need arose. However, it was soon apparent that going solo never matched the thrill and exhilaration of masturbating side by side. Thereafter, when one of us needed relief, we always went together to maximise its effectiveness.
Brian and I both got belted by several teachers in one day. So, after school, two very frazzled, miserable and dejected lads made their way to the barn. Once inside, we quickly settled down in a stall. However, in our befuddled state, we sat facing each other rather than sitting side by side as usual. Undaunted, we undid the flies of our trousers and underpants and allowed our cocks to spring free as usual. Then, without a moment’s thought and to my great astonishment, I reached over and grasped Brian’s dick in my right hand. I gasped as straightaway it began to pulse and squirm with excitement in my grip. Despite this, I was worried that I had broken a taboo by this invasion of his privacy.
Thankfully, Brian was in no way phased by my actions. Indeed, he quickly took hold of my todger. As he did so, I was swamped by many new beguiling sensations. While my willy reacted in essentially the same enthused way as it did when I was about to wank it, the fact it was in Brian’s grasp brought my levels of anticipation and excitement to a whole new level. I realised at that precise moment that I was entirely at his mercy. I had no idea what he would do to my cock and was in no position to control or stop him. Mind you, since I was holding his todger at the same time, I was not too much at risk. Still, those transitory thoughts were a salutary lesson in the possible dangers of being too exposed, even with a friend.
Brian and I slowly and gently worked each other’s cocks at first, but this did not last. The thrill and excitement of beating the meat took over, and our hands almost became a blur as they rapidly slid up and down our hungry shafts. Masturbation was taken to an even greater level of pleasure, for I was wanking Brian on automatic pilot and thus able to concentrate on my cock, its reactions to Brian’s fingers, the rapid buildup to climax and the final Vesuvius event. This made for a mind-blowing and out-of-this-world experience. Suffice it to say that from then on, I masturbated by my own hand only if I was desperate for relief and Brian was not available. Thankfully, that was a rare event and wanking each other off became the regular action.
One day, Brian got the belt from three sadistic teachers and was left devastated by their actions; he was shaking like a leaf. We went to our safe space, but he apologised and said, “I am sorry I cannot give you relief today; my hands are too sore. I could hardly use my pen or even write this afternoon.”
I found it heartbreaking to see Brian so down and decided to give him a special treat.
“Do not worry; lie back on the straw and let me do the work.”
I then undid his flies and let his dick stand to attention.
I said, “Do not be shocked. This is going to be a special treat.”
A look of astonishment spread on Brian’s face as I kneeled between his legs, leaned over, and took the tip of his cock in my mouth. Hidden instincts now took over, and I began to lick and tease his shaft with my tongue until there were about three inches inside my mouth. I then closed my lips around it and started bobbing my head. Brian gasped and moaned as my lips slipped up and down his shaft, causing the glans to flip in and out from under the foreskin. As I stepped up the pace, the cock engorged and began pulsing and twitching with delight when the foreskin pulled all the way back, exposing the glans, which quivered with excitement in its new wet and warm cocoon.
As I worked Brian’s hot, engorged tool, his breathing began to become strained and erratic. I realised straight away that he was closing on climax.
Between gasps, Brian said, “Get ready; Old Faithful is about to blow.”
Brian had shot his load in my hand many times before. Still, those prior events in no way prepared me for the breathtaking explosion that was about to occur. He hollered with joy as his cock trashed my mouth and doused it with masses of gunk. I was close to retching and unable to breathe. Thankfully, nature has always found a way. Once Brian’s generous, mighty deposit began to trickle down my throat, allowing me to swallow it, I found I could breathe through my nose. I was soon able to get back on an even keel. However, even after delivering every vestige of its output, Brian’s cock continued to pillage my mouth as it unwillingly and slowly went back to rest, leaving my mouth aching and coated with cack. Nonetheless, I was soon engulfed by plenty of pleasurable sensations emanating from it. I was happy and had a rising sense of well-being. Brian was also pleased, for he was smiling from ear to ear.
“Oh wow, thank you, George. That was fantastic. Was that another trick you learnt from a schoolyard story?”
“Yes, two boys described getting blowjobs from girlfriends, but at the time, I thought their stories were only make-believe because I knew they did not have girlfriends. However, I sussed out they were describing what they did with each other; the girlfriends’ bit was just a cover. Since you were looking so down, I thought I would give you a special treat, and oh my, it seems to have worked.”
“Yes, it has; you have almost blown me away.”
We had rested and recovered for about an hour when Brian asked me if I would suck him off again. Ever keen, I agreed, and his dick was soon getting very excited in my mouth. Because I now knew what was going to happen and when, I was able to fully savour the oral action, even down to the feeling of joy as his cock spasmed and unloaded its load of spunk.
Brian was happy and cheery when we headed home that night; his school troubles were forgotten entirely. Thereafter, we continued to meet up regularly to satiate the stresses of school. Most of the time, we wanked each other, but if Brian had suffered unduly, I would give him one or more blowjobs to quench his distress. Sadly, Brian could never bring himself to do the same for me; he had a mental block and a complete aversion to giving oral sex. I was disappointed, but I accepted that everyone has their dos and don’ts. I was just happy to give Brian some extra satiating joy in his times of need.
Like boisterous teenage lads everywhere, Brian and I often challenged each other to do off-limit things, and one of these dares took our friendship to a new level. Some boys had been boasting about skinny dipping in a nearby lake. While this was almost certainly a fantasy, Brian took it seriously and challenged me to go to the lake with him. I was initially reluctant, given the high risk of being caught. However, the loss of face from refusing my friend’s dare seemed an even worse option. So, I reluctantly agreed, and before soon, we were at the lake edge in a relatively well-hidden cove, stripping down to the bare.
I tried to be nonchalant, but I could not help but stare at Brian. While I was familiar with his cock and balls, I had never seen what came with them in the flesh, so to speak, and oh my, in the buff, Brian was a hunk, muscular and fit, with the tackle to match. I was shocked to hear a voice in my head saying, ‘I would not mind getting up close and personal with him’. I knew that idea was a complete no-no, but the thought would not go away. Only later did I find out that Brian was of the same mind.
Brian and I then spent about an hour swimming in the lake. We did not go far from the shore and kept in sight of each other. Some boats and swimmers were on the other side of the lake. If they saw us, they paid no attention. When we got tired, we moved nearer to the bank to stand on the bottom with just our heads above the water.
At one point, a small wave caught Brian by surprise, and he fell over. Intuitively, I grasped his arm and pulled him upright. As he got onto his feet, he put his arms around my waist to steady himself. Then, the unexpected happened. As our bodies swayed together, breast to breast, belly to belly, tackle to tackle, we were engulfed by incredible sensual sensations. We both knew boys should not react this way, but it felt good and perfectly natural.
Wanting in on the action, our cocks came to life, rapidly rose to attention and began jostling with each other. Soon, both were close to the point of no return. Our bodies tensed up, and we gasped with delight when they erupted in a conjoint frenzy and shot out masses of spunk. Brian and I held each other tightly and sighed steadily as we savoured passage through this wondrous orgasmic event.
Swept away in the moment, I said, “Oh wow, this is amazing”, before kissing Brian. Then, reality kicked in. We both blushed and quickly separated as we grasped, we were breaking a major taboo. While it was just about acceptable for curious lads to play with each other’s cocks, making out together was an absolute no-no. Only petting between a boy and a girl was permissible, but the moralists even frowned upon that.
Embarrassed to have crossed the line, Brian and I hurriedly made our way onto the bank, dried ourselves down, redressed, and went home in virtual silence. Indeed, we avoided each other for most of the following week. However, Brian sought me out on Friday afternoon. We went to our safe place, wanked each other off and took things up a notch by sharing a long, luscious kiss.
“Would you like to go skinny dipping tomorrow? It will be fun.”
My heart skipped a beat because, by now, I had overcome my embarrassment and realised that I desperately wanted to share that joy again.
“Yes, I would love to. I can hardly wait.”
So, before nine the following day, Brian and I were naked, up to our necks in the water, and seriously making out. Who knew we had so many erogenous spots and how good it felt to turn them on. Inevitably, we were soon so hot and bothered that our cocks took over and sent us into raptures as, in unison, they blew their tops like volcanos. Unlike previously, we were so captivated by the experience that we were in no rush to break off. Instead, we clung together, savouring and appreciating every thrilling moment. However, we eventually returned to the bank, dried ourselves down, and lay side by side on the grass to rest.
Our period of recovery did not last long, for as we looked at each other’s naked bodies, the hormones began to surge, and we realised we wanted to get up close and personal again. Moreover, we knew we did not have to get wet to do so. So, we cuddled up together on the grass and petted until we were so aroused that our cocks took us to seventh heaven as they blew their loads. After two more orgasmic sessions during the day, we both ended up back in the lake just to cool off and wash away the accumulated sweat and gunk. After redressing, we slowly made our way home. We still could not have enough of each other, and whenever we were sure we could not be seen, we would stop to kiss and cuddle. So, our journey home was far slower than usual, but oh, much more fun. We should have felt ashamed of our forbidden intimacy, but we were not. There was so much to learn and enjoy that would be important when the real thing came along.
Brian and I did not go wild. During the week, we just wanked each other off when we felt the need for relief or pleasure. However, when our Saturdays or Sundays were free, we regularly made out in nature’s clothing. We learnt so many kinks and variations to take ourselves to bliss. Among these new options was thigh sex or butt crack sex. Two alternatives to hand masturbation where the receiver trapped the giver’s penis between their thighs or their buttocks and was then humped until the giver’s cock climaxed, highly satisfying for both of us and small steps nearer to the real thing. Interestingly, Brian was always keener to be the giver than the receiver.
Brian and I usually got down and dirty at our spot beside the lake or in a hidden clearing in a nearby wood. However, if the weather was terrible, we were not put off; we just shared a stall in our favourite barn. Our sessions there were always hot, but it was only when I saw how quickly its windows misted up that I realised just how raunchy we were.
Brian and I did our best to ensure there was no risk of being seen. Still, there were at least two occasions when rampant lust clouded our judgment, and we were close to being caught in flagrante delicto. The first time, we were tightly entwined and driving each other wild in what we considered a safe, well-hidden clearing when, out of the blue, we heard people moving along a nearby path. We immediately went quiet, and thankfully, fortune was with us. Hidden amongst the long grass in the middle of the clearing, we went unnoticed, and the people continued their way, unaware we were there.
Our closest call came one wet day when we went to the barn. We were in the wild throws of thigh sex when some people looking for shelter from the rain chanced upon the barn and decided to wait inside its doorway. Thankfully, they seemed to be townies out for a country walk, for they expressed no desire to explore the byre’s interior, and some expressed disgust at its appearance. So, they stayed in the doorway, chatting until the rain went off.
I must admit my cock was almost our undoing. When the people first arrived, my dick was close to the point of climax, and, therefore, it was very frustrating when I suddenly stopped riding Brian. Desperate to deliver its load, my primed cock continued to wriggle and squirm between Brian’s thighs and one quiver by them was enough to send it over the edge. To this day, I still do not know how we kept silent while Mount Etna erupted and creamed Brian’s perineum with a seemingly endless stream of my hot jizz. However, we stayed quiet and continued to do so until the rain went off, when the people went away, leaving two very relieved lads in their wake.
Did these close calls put us off intimacy? No, they did not. We were having too much fun. Admittedly, for a period afterwards, we took particular care in the choice of location. Still, we soon returned to using the first available ‘safe spot’. Those narrow escapes added to the thrill and excitement, leading us to couple even more often. For example, no sooner had the people left the barn than Brian was humping me for all he was worth.
Our erotic adventures continued in this manner for several weeks until an unexpected event led us to take things to the ultimate in boy-on-boy intimacy.
While visiting Brenda at her home on Saturday to finish off some schoolwork, Brian and I fell afoul of her dad. During a break in our work, I was chatting with Brian when his temperamental father came on the scene. I am unsure what upset him; it was probably just the quizzical looks we gave him. Whatever the reason, he completely lost it and severely spanked me and Brian with his hefty belt.
I am ashamed to say that when he turned his attention from me to Brian, I fled the house. My only plan was to escape and get as far away as I could as quickly as possible. I had no idea where I was going. Thankfully, my subconscious directed me towards a nearby hidden clearing. Once there, I took down my trousers and drawers, lay on the ground and let the cool breeze draw the heat away from my bum. This gave a slight relief in the short term, but ultimately, it did little to quench the pain.
I now had a lightbulb moment. I recalled there was a small stream nearby the clearing and decided to make use of it. Without further thought, I got up, stripped to the buff, walked over to the stream’s edge, and then stepped into the middle before gently lowering my bottom into the water. After the initial electrifying shock when my rear first touched the cold water, I was quickly taken to a state of bliss as the cool flowing water drew the heat out of my buttocks.
As I sat in the water, I suddenly heard Brian’s voice. He was standing at the stream’s edge.
“Ah, I thought you might end up here. Are you okay? I am sorry that Dad took his fury out on you.”
“Your dad certainly left his mark, but the cool water is doing a good job, so I am on the mend and will be okay.”
“Good, I am glad to hear that. I am impressed. I often come to this clearing to recover after a spanking but have never thought of using the stream to quell the pain.”
With that, Brian stripped off, walked into the stream, and sat beside me. He sighed as his crimson bum settled in the water.
Seeing that Brian needed some comfort, I slid my arm around his back and hugged him. He quickly did the same. As Brian bosied into my shoulder, I gently lifted his head and kissed him. He settled in immediately, and we shared a long, luscious snog. Soon, all the morning’s travails were forgotten as we savoured and concentrated on the sweet sensations passing through our lips, the perfect soothing experience.
Brian broke off our kiss and said, “We are a strange pair. What should we do now?”
I was still in a daze and hesitated to reply. But then, from the depths of my brain, an intriguing idea came to the surface.
“Do you remember that story by the twins who left school a few years ago? They said they were riding each other just to practice for real intercourse?”
“I remember the tale, but it was just a fantasy. Nobody would do that.”
“I thought that way too at the time, but when I now look back at how many school tales have actually turned out to be correct, I do wonder if there is any truth to that story.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“Well, what about finding out if it was true? Let us take thigh and butt crack sex to the next level.”
“Oh, that would be gross. I could never do that.”
I now observed a long-held suspicion of mine that boy’s cocks have a mind of their own was true. While Brian was vehemently vocalising his absolute disagreement with my suggestion, his penis was suggesting the very opposite. It was erect and twitching eagerly in anticipation.
Without further ado, I rolled over onto my front and propped my head and chest clear of the water with my arms. My bum was still under the cooling water but fully available if Brian’s cock did finally overrule his brain.
“I am ready. Let us do it. Go on, ride me.”
In truth, there was only one likely outcome once Brian’s cock got the hint of possible coital action. So, within moments, Brian moved behind me, kneeled between my legs, and clasped my hips with his hands. Soon, the head of his dick sought out my water-covered crack and delved into it. The tip began quivering with excitement once it found my precious bum ring and pushed hard against it. My sphincters tried their best to repel the intruder. However, being wet and slippery, they had no chance against a determined penis.
I howled when the sphincters suddenly gave way, allowing the head of Brian’s cock to burst inside my boy’s pussy. Thankfully, this distress was transitory, and I was soon sighing and moaning with delight as his water-lubed shaft burrowed deep into my fanny. As it and its sphincters were being stretched to their limit by Brian’s marauding weapon, they also sent wave after wave of beguiling sensations throughout my nether regions. These enchanting feelings peaked once Brian’s shaft was buried to the hilt in my fud.
Brian pulled back until only the glans was inside my pussy. He then settled for a moment before thrusting his shaft back into me. I was soon cooing with joy again as it steadily moved through and lit up my fanny. Despite this, I could not help but feel that his shaft was rippling and pulsing far more frantically than during the first stroke. Unfortunately, my instincts were correct. For the moment Brian’s balls kissed my buttocks, he became tense and tightened his grip on my hips before shouting, “Get ready. I cannot hold back. My cock is about to erupt.”
Brian’s warning was to no avail. Indeed, nothing could have prepared me for what happened. I shrieked and moaned as his dick suddenly went berserk in my fud, spasming again and again as it shot hot spunk into its depths. So intense and all-consuming were these carnal reactions that we both stopped breathing. Fortunately, these dire responses were only momentary. Once Brian’s climax went past its wild zenith, we both began gasping desperately and steadily returned to an even keel. Only then was I able to fully appreciate the splendid sensations surging throughout my groin.
I was disappointed that the deed was over so quickly, but I still felt content and invigorated. We had shattered the ultimate boy-on-boy taboo and uncovered just a few of its joys. Now that the genie was out of the bottle, I had no doubts I wanted more. However, I realised that having shot his wad so early during coitus, Brian might be embarrassed and put off trying to do the deed again. So, I knew I would have to reassure him and boost his ego to ensure this did not happen.
Brian had by now got up, walked onto the bank, and lain down on the grass. So, I did the same and cuddled up close and tight with him.
He was obviously unhappy. “I am so sorry. I got so excited that my cock took over and just did its thing. I could not stop it.”
“Shush, there is no need to be upset. You did well for the first time. Now we know how to do the basics; we just need to fine-tune them to get the maximum joy for both of us. I promise the next time will be far better; second times always are.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Yes, we will have great fun together. Now let us just get some rest.”
I do remember thinking this supportive/empathetic approach was novel. However, as I eventually found out, I was just tapping into a skill that has been essential for girls from time immemorial. Often, they must massage and boost the fragile self-esteem of boyfriends who have ejaculated before they have set the sexual heather alight.
Brian and I cuddled up and snogged until we fell asleep. When we reawakened about an hour later, only one thing was on our minds. After petting for a short period, we moved into the middle of the stream, where Brian again speared my boy’s pussy with his rampant cock. This time he was in complete control of the situation and screwed me steadily and relentlessly for several minutes. I was gasping with delight and practically gasping for more as every stroke of his vibrant pole set my fanny into delirium.
“Oh my, this is so good. Why did we wait so long to do this? Keep going. I am already on cloud nine and want to find out how far your cock will take me.”
“No worries, I will not be stopping any time soon.”
Eventually, I sensed his cock was closing on the point of no return. The excitement built as his thrusts speeded up. I tried to brace myself for the coming eruption but to no avail. I shrieked in shock and delight as his dick went wild and filled my pussy with a massive load of his cum. I almost passed out, but I quickly recovered and savoured the great waves of pleasure spreading from my ravished fanny. This joy was further increased when I glanced around at Brian; he was gasping hard and trying to regain his composure while beaming from ear to ear in absolute delight.
I thought things could not improve, but they did later in the afternoon. We eagerly coupled for a third time. On this occasion, Brian was more assured and forceful and had me hot and bothered and struggling to cope within four to five minutes. Indeed, my fud became particularly excited as his glans chanced upon a highly sensitive region within my pussy and repeatedly lit it up.
I was already on cloud nine when to my utter amazement, my own cock stirred and quickly reached full attention. I howled and gasped with delight as it erupted like Etna and began hurling out spunk like there was no tomorrow. In this sexual euphoria, I witnessed a vista never to be forgotten; the sight of my cum bobbing up on top of the flowing water and then floating away into the distance in a seemingly endless stream. I could only imagine my balls had emptied when this trail of jizz finally disappeared. As my orgasm reached its peak, Brian’s cock tipped over the edge and took me to a whole new level of pleasure. His dick spasmed like mad in my twat and began shooting masses of his hot spunk into it while my cock continued to pump out cum for all it was worth.
Brian and I lay in the water, savouring every twitch, sensation, and wave of joy passing between us before eventually moving up on the bank and cuddling up together. We were both still in a sensual daze as the lingering joys of coitus continued to consume us. This was a situation like none before. The sheer intensity and pleasure of the orgasm triggered by Brian’s eager cock was mind-blowing and a dream achievement for both of us.
I was euphoric. My ravished fanny was still rippling and quivering with delight. My whole being was engulfed by wave after wave of pleasure emerging from it. In a moment of insight, I realised that this state of ecstasy was the closest I would ever get to knowing how a girl who has just been screwed to orgasm feels. I resolved there and then to make sure any future sexual partner would experience this joy or even more.
Brian and I got up, redressed, snogged briefly, and headed home. Then, like many girls before me, I encountered a less pleasant side of coitus; what goes in must come out. My weakened sphincters could not resist the pull of gravity, so with every step, drops of cum seeped out of my fud and soaked into my tighty-whities. Only now did I realise how generous Brian had been because my undies were soon soaked with his gunk. While this was uncomfortable for me, it was to turn out to be the least of my problems.
Mothers worldwide know that their sons regularly masturbate, for no matter how careful boys are, they always leave unmistakable signs on their undies. Mum was no exception, and, like most, she chose to turn a blind eye to these misdeeds other than to give an occasional warning about the evils of self-abuse if the stains on my drawers were too noticeable. So, I knew I was in for an ear bashing when Mum’s angry voice called me to the laundry room, and I found her holding up the soiled undies.
“I know you regularly play with yourself but always take care to leave little or no evidence. So, these disgusting things must be a result of something worse. I guess you and Brian have been pleasuring each other and got so carried away that your drawers have been splattered umpteen times with copious amounts of each other’s jizz. Am I correct?”
I wanted to feign innocence, but the evidence was obvious. So, I quickly blushed bright red and admitted it was true. Indeed, I was relieved Mum came up with this explanation; for bad as it was, it was still far more acceptable than the truth.
Mum scowled in disgust as she handed me the soiled undies. “Take these disgusting things and hand wash them thoroughly, and I mean thoroughly, before you put them in the washer. Switch the machine on and then come through to the living room.”
I did as I was told, and no trace of spunk was left on the drawers before I put them in the washer. I then headed to the living room, assuming I was about to get a hellfire and brimstone lecture about the evils of self-abuse and, worse still, of pleasuring others.
My jaw dropped when I saw her seated on a wooden chair.
“Come here and stand in front of me.”
I saw that her eyes were gleaming, but I was still taken by surprise when she then undid my belt, took down my trousers and underpants, and told me to step out of them. Once I did so, she threw them onto the sofa, leaving me naked from the waist down. Then, for the first time in my life, she pulled me over her lap and picked up a plimsoll.
“You know George, my boy, I hated my mother for every spanking she gave me and resolved I would never resort to physical punishment. I have stuck by that rule until today, but you made me realise she was right. There are misbehaviours for which strong words, warnings and timeouts are not an adequate punishment. So, much as it breaks my heart, I will accept my mother’s wisdom and now give you the real, thought-provoking lesson you need. I have never forgotten any of her spankings, and I assure you mine will be equally memorable.”
Mum’s anger and resolve were intense. So, my first spanking was indeed unforgettable, and she certainly got her message across. The humiliation of being spanked at eighteen by my Mum was undoubtedly an ego buster, and the taunting by the lads at school, who then spotted the clear evidence on Monday when I was changing for the gym, made me feel even worse.
“Remember this day and never be so disgusting again. Now, get off to bed.”
On my way to my room, I said, “I promise it will not happen again, Mum.”
“Good, I am glad to hear it. Now be off with you.”
She smiled the smile of a very wise Mum. She would like to have believed that Brian and I would stop masturbating, but she knew that boys are boys, and that was never going to happen. However, I twigged to her real message. Make sure I never find any indication of this depravity again, and things will be as before. Otherwise, look out. You now know the painful consequences. I got the point and made sure she never found any evidence of our indiscretions again; no mean feat given how often Brian would now go on to fill my fanny with his spunk.
That night, as I lay on my stomach on top of the bed, my head was a swirl of emotions. I could not understand why Mum’s punishment felt so much worse than the far more brutal and painful one I got from Brian’s dad. Eventually, I realised I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time with him. By contrast, my thrashing from Mum was my fault and a direct result of my misbehaviour with Brian. The humiliation and agony of Mum’s spanking were bad enough in itself. But adding to that, the shame and indignity of knowing I had brought it upon myself made her every hit to my bottom feel umpteen times worse.
To my utter surprise, I realised I now had a newfound regard for Mum. This notion may seem ridiculous, given what she had just done to me. But I soon understood that by using physical discipline on me, she had finally satisfied a deep-seated need on my part. Until then, any misdeeds were dealt with by a severe talking to, times out, and withdrawal of privileges. While this approach was usually effective and may seem an idyl, there were many occasions when it fizzled out, leaving me with no clear understanding of what was or was not acceptable.
So, stupid as it may seem, I often secretly hankered for a spanking, like most other boys got when they misbehaved, to set clear boundaries regarding acceptable behaviour. Now, for the first time, Mum had cast aside her long-held abhorrence of corporal punishment and given me the definitive signal I really needed. I was thankful to her and admired her for that. This event marked a significant shift in our relationship. I showed her the respect she deserved, and our mutual understanding improved.
Mum did not go feral. Her methods of discipline, in general, remained non-physical as before. Nonetheless, they were more effective, given that I now faced the risk a thrashing if I went too far. Indeed, there were a few occasions when my rear end would go on to feel the corrective spite of her plimsoll. To be fair, Mum’s spankings were always measured and justified, strengthening my reverence for her.
The significant change in my relationship with Brian was that he became an exclusive top. He eagerly screwed my boy pussy but never permitted me to ride him. He claimed to be terrified even by the thought of penetration. However, while that may have been one issue, I think the main reason was an inherent psychological need to be the macho dominant and to be in total charge, even in boy-on-boy intercourse. So, I was, to all intents and purposes, Brian’s sexual plaything/girlfriend.
You may wonder why I accepted this subservient role with Brian. Well, he was my very best friend and a satisfying lover. He regularly rode me to climax, which is always, without a doubt, an out-of-this-world gold-medal experience. So, just like many a girl, I accepted my boyfriend’s sexual demands and foibles so that we could be together as a loving couple.
Brian was generally a gentle lover, but there were occasions when he could be rough and insensitive. Sadly, there was no way to anticipate or predict when he would be this way. His intentions would only become apparent once my pussy was skewered by his cock, and I was entirely at his mercy. Fortunately, it was rare for Brian to go caveman on me. However, it still meant I was on edge every time we got together because I could never be sure what mood he was in.
My sexual experiences with Brian taught me to respect the so-called ‘weaker gender’. They need nerves of steel and courage every time they put out to a boy’s cock. For, just like me with Brian, the seemingly most caring and loving of beaus can quickly become a merciless brute once his dick is spearing her pussy and she is helpless. Sadly, given the ingrained ethos of macho dominance amongst boys, I suspect that the callous humping of submissive girls by lust-fuelled lads may be a regular occurrence. I was determined to learn the lessons from my times with Brian; I will always treat a girlfriend fairly and gently whenever the opportunity arises.
My subservient/girlfriend relationship with Brian lasted for an incredible six months. I still blush when I recall just how many times his hungry cock took my boy’s pussy to cloud nine and how many pairs of undies I had to wash to ensure that Mum found no evidence of our intimate activities. However, as it turned out, my undies did not give Brian and me away. Instead, the undue closeness and familiarity that Brian and I had for each other caught Mum’s eye. She realised that we were far more than best friends and twigged to the fact that we were intimate.
I would have expected Mum to explode in absolute fury at this carnal abomination, given the many lectures on the evils of self-abuse she had given me in the past. However, times have changed. There was no major fuss. One evening, Mum called me to the sitting room and said matter-of-factly, “I know you and Brian are intimate. Do not worry; I am not upset, and I understand the reasons why. Remember, I was once young and horny, just like you. I only need to know you are a willing and happy partner. Are you being discreet and careful? Are you taking good care of yourselves after the act?”
I was so taken aback that it took me some time to form coherent and sensible words, but eventually, I said, “Yes, Brian and I regularly make love. We are happily and eagerly testing the sexual waters; only time will tell if we are really in love or if this is an enchanting prelude to other things. We have tried hard to ensure no one knew or suspected, but clearly not well enough.”
“No need to worry. The outward affection you have for each other is so subtle that only a Mum would notice, and I am not going to blab. I know boy-on-boy is taboo, but I believe it is a good thing you are learning the basics of sex and relationships, both good and bad, and satiating your raging lusts with your best friend, a lad you trust. Chasing after females before you know how to control your sexual desires and urges risks all sorts of unwanted occurrences, including them getting pregnant. So, keep doing what you and Brian are doing together until you are ready to move to the real thing. Feel free to ask me for advice and guidance. I will not be embarrassed. I still remember what it was like to be your age.”
“Thank you for being so understanding. I thought you would go ballistic if you found out. I promise Brian and I will keep our secret well hidden. Do you think his Mum suspects?”
“I am your Mum, and I will always be there for you, whatever happens. I am sure Brian’s mother knows or suspects of your liaisons, and, like any good Mum, she accepts them. Now, come with me.”
Mum now led me through to the bathroom. There, she unlocked a cupboard and gave me one of the keys.
“Your intimate areas need to be kept clean and healthy, especially after sex. This cupboard contains cleansing wipes, antiseptics, soothing creams, and many other essentials. You can now use them to clean up and treat any sores and bruises you acquire in your nether regions. You may think this is unnecessary but believe me, you will find that giving your boy pussy some added care and attention makes for a far more comfortable life.”
Mum now picked up packets labelled ‘sanitary belt’ and ‘sanitary pad from a box in the cupboard.
“I wish I had thought of these before. It would have made life easier for you because you would not have had to wash so many pairs of underpants. Yes, I have known that for some time. Now, take off your trousers and drawers.”
As I stood there, Mum took one look at my bottom and said, “Oh my, your butt ring and its surrounds look quite red and sore. Has it had action today?”
To my surprise, I freely said to her, “Yes, Brian’s cock did its thing this afternoon.”
Mum quickly cleaned and wiped my special place and then applied some soothing ointment. My ring practically quivered with delight as this balm worked its magic.
“Now, that should help you feel more comfortable. You should always pamper your downstairs after intercourse. Now let me show you how to avoid all that mess in your underwear.”
Mum now fitted me with the sanitary belt and hooked a pad in place. The bundle between my legs was bulky and uncomfortable but covered everything from my balls to my butthole. It did not stay there for long. For the next half-hour, Mum had me take the belt and pad on and off several times to be well-versed in properly fitting it and even changing the pad if needed.
“Now, if you put this on after you have had intercourse, the leakage of spunk will be soaked up, and your undies will be unstained and dry. The pads are a bit of a faff, but they worked well for me. My mother had no suspicions I was sexually active before I got married.”
Then, to my horror, she now handed me a pair of knickers.
“You had better wear these with the pad, for they will help keep it better in place than your boy’s underwear.”
I was reluctant to wear them, but I quickly realised they were exceptionally soft and comfortable. As Mum had said, they moulded themselves tightly around the pad. So, I accepted Mum’s guidance. Indeed, that day started my fascination and fixation with knickers.
Only now did it dawn on me how Mum’s demeanour had changed. When she showed me the cupboard in the bathroom and watched as I practised with the belt and pad, she chatted away happily and supportively as never before. Now, as I stood before her wearing the pad and knickers, her eyes were gleaming, and she was smiling from ear to ear. Was she just pleased to be solving a problem for me or was there a deeper meaning? With no daughter to train in womanhood, was she using me as a substitute, and delighting in the opportunity to teach me about some female matters? Only time would provide the answer to that.
Brian and I met up the following Saturday at the barn and made enthusiastic love three times over the day. He was in hysterics when, for the first time, I put on the belt, pad, and knickers in front of him. I doubted they would work since Brian had deposited three large loads in me, but they did the trick. Everything was soaked up, and there was no stain on the panties. So, this became my go-to protective procedure after intercourse with Brian.
Mum was supportive throughout and only gave me the occasional mild warning that Brian and I should slow down because we were in danger of tiring ourselves out. She realised almost straight away that I was, to all intents, Brian’s girlfriend and made sure that her cupboard was always fully stocked with essentials.
At first, I carried a pair of panties in my schoolbag to put on when I needed to use the pad. However, Mum decided this was just creating extra laundry and soon replaced all but two pairs of my tighty-whities with pastel or floral granny panties. I did not mind. By now, I realised I preferred them. I had to be extra careful at school and wore the tighty-whities on the days I had gym but then reverted to panties as soon as it was safe to do so.
This switch into knickers full-time had two interesting side effects. Brian now insisted on undressing me when we made out, and his cock always went all a quiver the moment he began to pull down my knickers. Mum also decided to move with the times; the passion killers that usually adorned her washing line soon disappeared and were replaced by fashionable panties, just like those she gave me.
Sadly, the end for Brian and me happened at the beginning of the Easter break. I had not seen him in the week leading up to the holiday, but this was no surprise as we had long ago agreed to go camping that weekend. So, according to plan, we met on Friday evening and headed off to our campsite. However, we encountered a terrible storm on the way. So, instead of seeking out our site and pitching our tent, we located a local bothy to stay overnight. That was the best idea ever; we quickly warmed up once indoors. We shared a meal, rolled our double sleeping bag out on the floor, got down to the buff, and cuddled together inside it.
Brian and I petted for a spell to get into the mood, and soon we were hot and horny. He then took charge, speared my fanny with his rampant dick and steadily screwed me to bliss. Once he had shot his load, he cuddled up with me and soon fell asleep. However, this was only the start. He was insatiable and would go on to ride me five more exhilarating times overnight. Indeed, the room was bathed in sunshine as he ravished my fud for the sixth time.
On this occasion, Brian was determined to give it his all. The sheer power and frequency of his strokes took my breath away. Indeed, he ravished my pussy with such intensity that I went gaga and was utterly away with the fairies. Nevertheless, I was still sufficiently au fait to shriek with absolute delight when my dick erupted like a volcano just as Brian’s went berserk and we went through the unmatchable joys of joint climax.
Exhausted by the night’s exertions, I fell asleep soon after this crescendo was over. When I finally awoke, I was shocked to find that Brian and all his gear were gone. On top of the sleeping bag lay a letter, which I picked up and struggled to open. Then, still bleary-eyed, I read it.
‘George, I have been struggling to find a way to tell you that I am now dating a girl from school and am very fond of her. You and I are best friends and have shared much pleasure and joy together, but it is time for us to move on. After all, we were always practising for the real thing, right. Thank you for so many unforgettable times. All the best for the future.’
I was in turmoil. Obviously, I was angry with Brian. I would rather have freely shared our last night together instead of being used as his plaything. But I was also sad, for I understood his difficulty in telling me he now had a girlfriend. I would have had the same problem. Moreover, there was no doubt he had gone above and beyond to ensure my last time with him was an absolute joy.
Brian and I knew that our enthusiastic boy-on-boy action was, in the main, about quenching our immediate male lusts and acquiring sensual skills for the real deal. All that was now water under the bridge. Brian was now moving on, and good luck to him.
Although Brian was now gone from the scene, I still had my soul mate, Brenda. We were intellectual partners and equals; we could freely discuss, debate, or even sometimes argue about issues without any problems. I could, if need be, satiate my lusts by self-pleasure, but I could not do without my intellectual partner, Brenda.
Sadly, my friendship with Brenda was put at risk by the very actions of Brian and other lads. The Puritan great and good began to stir up a fuss about unwed men and women being out together, horror of all horrors, in the absence of chaperones. Most sensible people agreed there was no problem, but the all-powerful moralists were having none of it and their views held sway. So, their archaic rules were strictly enforced once more.
Brenda and I lived far from town, so one might think we would go unnoticed, but no. Her Mum was told we could only be together if one of our mothers or another chaperone was present. This was an impossible imposition. The enforcers knew it, and so did I. So, as I headed home that night, I was despondent and thought my whole world had come to an end.
When I got home, Mum was on the telephone. So, I sat down on the sofa and mulled over the consequences of the moralist’s edict for me. After a few minutes, I heard Mum put down the phone and come into the sitting room.
I must have looked as happy as I felt, for she said, “Oh my, what a sad face. Cheer up. That was Brenda’s Mum on the phone. She told me the story. We have agreed that you and Brenda must continue to work together, and we have come up with a plan to allow you to do so.
I was delighted with this news, but when I saw the twinkle in Mum’s eyes, I wondered if I should be happy or apprehensive.
