Simons Seduction

By Jim Daniels

Published on Feb 25, 1999

Gay

This is Part 4 a story about consensual sex between teenage boys. You should not read it if it is against the law in your country, or if explicit descriptions of such sexual acts offend. It should not be read by those under 18 years of age, or older if that is the law. It is a work of fiction, and any similarities to actual people are purely coincidental. It should be read for enjoyment and not taken literally. In particular it describes certain unprotected sexual acts, which are potentially dangerous to health and should not be emulated. This is the author's first posting and comments are invited.

Simon's Seduction - Part 4

As he was wanked off, thinking of his past sins and how he could get closer to Simon, Huw was blissfully unaware of what the boy he had admired so much on the cricket field, and afterwards in the showers, had been up to in the junior dormitory.

Had he had any inkling that Simon was being comprehensively fucked, by the boy they called Rabbit, Huw might have calculated his next move differently, as visions of Simon's beautiful face and body floated through his mind. Huw was not even aware of Rabbit, one of the new boys up from junior school, with nothing about him to excite attention.

Simon was different. He stood out among all the 20 odd newcomers to the House as exceptionally beautiful and desirable. There was a deceptive innocence about him, enhanced by his sporting talent, quick intelligence and bubbling personality, that set him apart from the other boys. It made those, whose lust was aroused by the perfect form of his face and body, tentative in seeking to exploit the latent sexuality that they understood was buried just below the surface in 13 year old boys.

Huw was no exception. He had decided that he wanted to make Simon his best friend, as the way to his heart, not to mention his genitals and that lovely smooth, round bum. For the next few weeks, after his initial encounter in the locker room, and then the shower after cricket practice, Huw got as close to Simon as he could.

He hung around the changing room until Simon appeared, and undressed with him, accompanied him out to practice and contrived whenever possible to shower with him. This was not as often as he wished, as Simon was now practicing with the House First XI. But Huw had grown bolder with each occasion, showing more of his erection as he soaped himself. He fancied that he caught Simon taking it in with those green eyes, and responding with a slow rubbing of the soap around his own genitals and along the crack of his arse.

Each night, as Huw's hand went down to his impressive erection, the vision of Simon's perfect body with exquisitely formed penis, danced in Huw's mind. As his hand moved up and down, lingering at the top of the stroke to stimulate the underside of the head, Huw fantasised that it was Simon's hand on his dick, Simon's hand over which his spunk would ooze as he squeezed the last drops from his softening cock.

Huw sought Simon out to talk to him, did small favors for him and acted as his mentor. True to his promise he had approached Mr Swan about playing Simon in the House first XI, and he had readily agreed.

The Duck, as he became known, was something of a favorite with the boys. Only 23 he was an Old Boy of the school, who had done part of his teacher training there and, on graduation, had returned as a master. He was a University Blue in cricket and tennis and had an easy, ingratiating manner with the boys. He was also handsome and well built, and on the occasions after sport when he showered with the boys they admired his well-hung body, for he had an impressive penis, circumcised, with large loose balls. This was only his second year as Assistant House Master and he had already made his mark.

He coached the House First XI and the School's Second XI. He was also the Scoutmaster of the school troop and took parties of boys on weekend camps. John O'Neal, or Johno as he was universally known, was the opening bowler for the House Junior team, and one of his favorites. Good looking, in a conventional way, with blue eyes and fair wavy hair, and an compact, athletic body, Johno would spend hours talking with The Duck in his study, and on camping trips he invited Johno to share his tent. They were great buddies, and The Duck would often reminisce about his days in the school as Johno listened, silently hero-worshipping this talented man.

One night, at the scout camp, The Duck had noticed Johno's sleeping bag moving in a familiar pattern, in time with his own.

He had whispered to Johno, "Seems we like the same thing".

"What do you mean" and embarrassed Johno had replied, knowing exactly what he meant, stopping in mid-stroke.

"Don't forget I was at this school only a few years ago. We all did it."

There was no need to define "it".

"Do you still do it", asked Johno diffidently

"Of course" replied The Duck.

"Do you have a girlfriend," Johno asked

"No", said The Duck, "I've never really been interested".

Johno reflected a moment on where this conversation was going, but took courage from the long talks he had had previously with The Duck in which he had intimated that he knew well, from his own time at the school, what went on at night the dormitories.

"Did you ever do it with other boys when you were at school," enquired Johno, thinking of his own experiences.

The Duck had parried the question: "Why do you want to know? I think we both know what adolescent boys like to get up to. Experimenting with other boys is just part of growing up. I hope you have learnt that lesson in your time here."

"Well, yes," replied Johno, "but I didn't think you still did it when you grew up."

The Duck calculated that it was time for his next move.

"I can assure you that you won't stop", he said, and with that threw back the cover of his sleeping bag to reveal his naked body with his 8" erection firmly in his grasp.

As he slowly massaged it he turned to Johno and said "If you don't believe me try this."

Johno was wide eyed, not only at the dimensions of what was in Mr Swan's hand, but the fact that a master was displaying his wares like this. He responded by opening his own sleeping bag and pulling his erect penis out of his pyjama bottom. It was not in the same class as The Duck's, but he sported a good six inches, which for a fourteen-year-old, as he was at the time, it was quite impressive.

The boy and the master eyed each other as they quietly masturbated. Johno felt a particular thrill at seeing the man who was his hero openly displaying his manhood. His pace quickened as he watched The Duck's hand moving more rapidly; he felt the tingling in his balls foreshadowing his climax and out spurted the first drop of spunk, landing on his chest, with others following in short order until he lay exhausted by the physical and emotional outpouring he had experienced.

Johno was only just aware that The Duck's body was convulsing as he shot his own sperm high into the air, to drop back on his bare belly and mingle with his abundant pubic hair. For him the sight of the fourteen-year-old boy beside him pushing himself to the limit of self-stimulation had been almost too much as his own climax consumed his whole body.

"Go to sleep now. We can explore our feelings a bit more tomorrow night," he had said, "but let's keep this a secret between us."

With inhibitions gone, the next night saw an explosion of raw sexual energy from the hormone-riddled adolescent and the horny young teacher as they faced each other in the tent. Johno had undressed and stood naked, waiting for The Duck to shed his clothes. Instead he had taken Johno in his arms and joined his lips to the young boy. Johno felt a determined tongue probe his lips and force its way into his mouth. He had never been kissed like this before and a surge of electricity seemed to head straight to his groin. As The Duck's tongue probed the depths of his mouth, Johno sensed a hand encircle his already rigid adolescent penis. Instinctively his hand went to the fly of his lover and he felt the rigid strength of Mr Swan's cock through the thin material of his shorts. He fumbled with the buttons and in a moment his great shaft, glistening in the light of the lamp in the tent, was in his hand.

Johno felt Mr Swan withdraw his tongue, and move his head down to Johno's chest. His cock gave a spasm, as if a string of nerves connected it directly to first his right, then his left nipple. It pulsed in The Duck's hand and he gasped out that he was about to come.

"Not yet, my boy," said The Duck. "I have another treat for you."

And with that he lowered his head and took Johno's now flaming cock in his soft mouth. Johno felt as if a thousand butterflies were fluttering their wings against his arse as the juices compressed inside him burst forth in a might flood into Mr Swan's eager mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through Johno's body as three, four, six, eight and finally ten spasms carried the essence of his emerging manhood into the body of his mentor.

A cold draught of air enveloped his penis as it dropped from The Duck's mouth and he watched as if in a trance as his youthful sperm was disgorged into Mr Swan's hand which he then wrapped around his eight inch shaft.

Johno's head reeled as he felt The Duck twist his body gently around until his hard cock, lubricated with Johno's own spunk, pressed against his arse.

"No," he cried, "not that. Please don't." Johno's head filled with the memory of his experience two years earlier: Still new to the House, one of the third year boys, Lindsay, had taken him into the luggage room during lunch hour on the pretext of helping him tidy it up. After they had moved a lot of bags around Johno sat down on a pile feeling tired. Lindsay had stood in front of him and run his hand up the leg of Johno's shorts. Johno's cock had sprung to attention, but he was nervous about doing anything there.

"It's OK," Lindsay had said, "No one ever comes in here"

He had pulled down his trousers to expose his large erect cock, surrounded by red hair. Johno reached out and felt it.

"Geez, it's big," he had said.

"All the better to fuck you with," Lindsay had leered, as he pulled down Johno's shorts, exposing his 13-year-old boner.

Lindsay picked him up, turned him around and reached into a small bag to produce a ball of butter smuggled out of the dining room, which he smeared on his cock. Johno had felt trapped by the bigger boy and scared by what he had said. Johno had played around plenty in the dorm but had never gone beyond wanking and, once or twice, sucking his best friend.

Lindsay had the smaller boy in a firm grip as he pressed his hard seven inches against his smooth crack.

Johno pleaded with him: "Please Lindsay, no, not that. I've never done that"

The thought of taking a thirteen year old virgin inflamed Lindsay's passion even more.

"I'll be gentle," he had said, and he slowly pushed his long thin cock into Johno. With a few sharp strokes his cock erupted within Johno as the young boy cried out.

"That hurt," Johno had said, as he felt Lindsay's spunk dribble out of his arse.

"Sorry," Lindsay had said. "I got a bit carried away. I really love you Johno, and didn't want to hurt you."

The bell for afternoon classes had then rung. Sore and humiliated, Johno had had to ask to be excused from the first class after lunch, as he felt the spunk seeping out of his arse, through his boxers and spreading a stain on the back of his trousers.

Johno's thoughts returned to the scene before him, The Duck's erection showing signs of flagging.

The Duck had heard the forlorn plea in Johno's voice, and seen the tears in his eyes, and backed away.

"What's the matter," he had asked, feeling his libido replaced by shame at his own action in seducing this fifteen year old boy.

"It's just--" Johno's voice trailed away.

"Someone raped you," The Duck had said, overwhelmed with feeling for this boy that he had loved from a distance, and was now begging him not to consummate that love with the final act of intimacy between men and boys.

"Sort of," mumbled Johno, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Who was it," asked The Duck.

"I can't say," Johno had replied, respecting the unwritten code of honour which was part of the school's homosexual sub-culture.

"I understand," The Duck had said, all sexual tension now drained from him by the essential innocence that confronted him. "Let's talk about it at another time."

"It's OK, " Johno had said, "that was wonderful, but I just can't take it up there. Not yet anyway."

And so had begun the affair between the boy and the master. It continued through the following year and was the subject of a certain amount of gossip in the House, and, more guardedly, in the masters' Common Room, where hints were dropped that Swan's interest in the boy had not gone unnoticed. But as most of them had similar interests in one or more of the boys, none were willing to cast the first stone.

When Huw had gone to see The Duck about including Simon in the House First XI, he had been quizzed about the new boy. The Duck took a personal interest in all the boys in the House, but he seemed particularly keen to learn about this promising new boy, with the cherubic face and athletic body. Huw had told him most of what he knew, trying his best to conceal his own feelings for Simon.

"By the way," The Duck had said, "Joeys have invited us to send and junior team with the First XI when we play them next week." Joey's was St Joseph's, the Catholic school a couple of hours bus ride away. It was regarded as something of an adventure to go to Joey's and mix it with the Catholic boys.

"Can you put together a school junior team? We can build it around you, Simon and Johno with three from each of the other Houses." We'll all ride together in the one bus, leaving at 8.30 and getting back after dinner, which we will have there.

"I'll fix it up," replied Huw, the idea uppermost in his mind being the opportunity to spend four hours in a bus sitting next to Simon.

That night Huw lay in his bed turning over in his mind the opportunity that the bus trip presented to get closer physically to Simon than he had either dared, or had an opportunity to get up to now. In the four weeks that had passed since he first saw this heavenly vision in the locker room, Huw had become increasingly besotted. He could not stop thinking of Simon, and wanted to spend every waking hour, and sleeping hour if it came to that, with him at his side.

At fourteen Huw did not understand the emotions sweeping through his psyche. Exalted by his feelings for Simon, at the same time he was deeply ashamed to admit them to anyone, even himself. He had read about love, but understood that it happened between men and women, and was different to the way his parents loved him. Could a boy fall in love with another boy? Surely not, but then...

Huw's mind turned to an incident the previous year with Daniel, a boy who was a year senior to him and had been unusually friendly towards him from the start. Huw had put this down to his strong religious convictions, as he led the Fellowship gathering in the House.

They had been on duty after school in the science lab. The science block was a large, modern, square building with laboratories for physics, chemistry and biology forming three sides of the square and the classroom making the fourth. In the middle were the equipment rooms, together with a preparation room and photographic darkroom behind the classroom. After they had finished cleaning up Daniel had asked Huw if he knew how to develop and print a film. Huw was anxious to learn, and had followed Daniel into the darkroom, which the boys were allowed to use after school hours.

Daniel had explained, with the light on, how to load a film into the developing tank, add the developer and time the process. He also explained how the negative was printed in the enlarger.

"Let's try it," he had said, turning off the lights so that the room was in total darkness.

He had stood behind Huw, with his arms around his waist, helping him feed the film into the tank in the dark. Huw had felt Daniel's cock begin to harden as he pressed against him, and felt his own responding. Daniel had in the past hinted at a sexual interest in Huw, but had made no move. Now Huw, ever alive to the possibility of sex with his seniors, had moved his bum back to acknowledge Daniel's now erect cock pressed against it, but Daniel had backed away, saying it was time for the printing lesson, which could be done with a safe-light.

As they worked together at the enlarger, Huw had again felt Daniel's body pressing against him, and saw Daniel gazing at him in the dim red light, as he introduced sexual allusions into their conversation. Next Huw felt Daniel's hand in his left trouser pocket, the one he had worn a hole in. As Daniel's hand slipped through the hole Huw's cock rose spontaneously to greet it and his hand drifted down to Daniel's fly where he felt a huge bulge. Daniel withdrew his hand from Huw's pocket and in one swift move produced what to Huw's thirteen-year-old eyes seemed a sensationally large, uncircumcised penis, the purple head just appearing through the foreskin. In a moment Huw produced his modest five inches which instantaneously erupted with a jet of spunk followed by several more. Daniel let out a loud moan and sank to his knees as his own great weapon similarly erupted over Huw's trousers. Huw gazed down, mesmerised at the sight of a small pool of spunk caught in Daniel's foreskin and dribbling down its considerable length.

"I'm sorry Huw, I love you," he had heard Daniel say. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" and he had started to cry.

Huw was perplexed. What did he mean? Huw had thoroughly enjoyed what had happened, yet here was Daniel saying he was sorry, and blubbing.

"It's OK, Daniel, it's OK" he had said. "I enjoyed it"

Daniel had simply repeated that he was sorry, asked Huw to forgive him and said that it would not happen again.

And it didn't. Much as he would have liked him to, Daniel never laid a finger on Huw again, although they remained good friends.

Huw's thoughts returned to the matter in hand.

What had Daniel meant when he said he loved him, pondered Huw, as his right hand gently stroked his penis and his left fondled his ample ball sack? Was this what he felt for Simon? Could a boy fall in love with another? In his heart he knew the answer.

As he surged towards his climax Huw acknowledged to himself that, yes, he loved Simon. As the spunk spurted from the tip of his straining penis into the handkerchief that he had carefully laid on his belly, Huw also knew that he would consummate that love, and that he would not be sorry afterwards.

Huw checked that all the members of the junior school team that he had put together were at the bus at 8.30. The first XI piled in first, then the juniors. Huw was determined to sit next to Simon, but had not counted on The Duck exercising his droit de seigneur. Already seated at the front of the bus he had motioned Simon to join him. Simon had no choice, and Huw had to be content to take the seat across the aisle, where at least he could watch what was going on and join in the conversation.

It was an uneventful trip. The Duck engaged Simon in lively chatter. Huw noticed at one stage towards the end of the journey, after one of their exchanges, he had put his hand on Simon's knee and Simon had blushed slightly. But perhaps the blush was in his imagination. Huw felt for the first time the pangs of sexual jealousy. Simon was his, not The Duck's or anyone else's. He now knew that he was desperately in love.

The cricket had gone brilliantly. Huw had scored 56, and Simon had taken five wickets, to annihilate the opposition. Lindsay had made a match-winning century for the First XI. The boys from the House were the heroes of the day. They congratulated each other on their success, and, after dinner headed for the bus for the journey back. Huw made sure that he was not separated from Simon this time, and they playfully skipped into the bus and sat down together, in the middle, just in front of the First XI, with The Duck up front.

As the bus took off into the twilight Huw felt a warm glow as Simon's knee touched his. They were both wearing the shorts and the fair skin of Huw legs, starting to thicken with hair, contrasted with Simon's smooth olive skin. As darkness fell and Huw sensed an opportunity for close physical contact his heart beat faster. The whole bus was in jolly mood, as the First XI had won also. There was much chiacking and some raucous, and tuneless, singing from the First XI, led by Lindsay.

Huw tousled Simon's hair, and Simon retaliated. As their exchanges became more physical they fell about in helpless laughter as each tickled the other. It was a chance for Huw to get his hands under Simon's shirt, and feel the smooth skin of his chest. Simon retaliated by taking Huw's bare thigh in a tight grip. Huw returned the favor and as they stared into each other's eyes, Huw slowly relaxed his grip and slid his hand up the leg of Simon's shorts. Huw's penis hardened as he felt the tip of Simon's uncut cock, and Simon's hand brush lightly over Huw's hard-on as he sought a new place to tickle him. They had finally touched each other in forbidden territory.

Their eyes met in fleeting contact before Simon gently pushed Huw away whispering, "Not here."

Huw hovered between hurt and hope. The rebuff, gentle as it was worried him. Nobody could see them. At the same time Huw felt elated. The whispered "not here" carried more than hope that Simon meant in another place at another time. Simon had acknowledged the sexual magnetism that was drawing them inexorably, Huw felt, together. But Huw had underestimated the danger which Simon had sensed.

Suddenly the bus had gone quiet. Huw's and Simon's giggles were the only sound penetrating the darkness.

"What are you two up to," came a voice from the back.

"He's tickling me," Simon shouted with considerable presence of mind. "Stop it, Huw"

"I will if you will" Huw had responded in a voice loud enough to be heard at the back.

They became silent, their bodies communicating through arms and shoulders pressed together in innocent contact. As the movement of the bus made the tired boys drowsy Huw felt Simon's head fall on his shoulder, his hair brushing Huw's cheek. Huw ran his hand slowly through those dark curls, and Simon imperceptibly snuggled a little closer.

Something had passed between the two boys that night which would lead them to express the feelings they had for each other. But it was to be a rocky road, for their friendship had not gone unnoticed by other jealous souls in the bus.

End of Part 4

Next: Chapter 5


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