When I Were Nowt But a Lad 7
J. H. P. Cash, 367
When I Were Nowt But a Lad 7
One night when Mike was Duty Monitor I spoke to him quietly just as he was coming in to our dorm to put the lights out.
"Can I come to you later?" I asked.
He smiled and said, "I've got an essay to finish, but if I get it done in good time I'll come and get you."
About one in the morning I was shaken awake. In his bedsit, Mike's desk light was on and his books and foolscap pad lay open on the desk. He tidied them away and then turned to me, still standing by the door.
"Come on, get your pyjamas off."
I undressed quickly and stood there, not quite sure what to do.
"You look nice." Mike said. "I like just looking at you. Put your hands behind your head, like you were my prisoner."
I did as he'd said and he came over to me. He was still dressed, although in shirtsleeves - his blazer was on the back of his desk chair. He reached out and cupped my cheek in his hand. I turned my head and kissed his hand.
"Oh fuck." he sighed. He pushed his thumb against my lips and I sucked on it.
"Fuck; you're a really hot little sprog, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I thought, "I hope so." "Hot sprog" was what the really pretty junior boys were called - boys like Roger. I understood that Mike was saying not only that I was attractive, but that I was "hot" in a sexual sense as well. "Gagging for it," as I might have said when I was a bit older and more light-hearted about all this stuff.
Mike undid his tie and kicked off his shoes.
"You do the rest," he said, dragging my hands to his shirt. As I unbuttoned his shirt Mike run his hands over my chest and shoulders, thumbing my nipples. I pulled his shirt tails out of his grey flannel trousers and he unbuttoned his cuffs so that I could reach up and pull his shirt off him. He pulled me against him and told me to lick his nipples. It was wonderful to be in his arms and licking at his chest felt so good: as if I was worshipping him. He pushed me back and undid his belt so that I could take down his trousers. He stepped out of them and sat on his bed, telling me to kneel and take off his socks. Again this felt great - slightly humiliating, but such a right thing for me to be doing.
Mike sat forward at pulled my head into his crutch. His cock was hard, and he told me to lick it through his underpants.
"Fucking hell!" he breathed as I lapped at him.
"Take my kecks off: suck it properly." He lifted up to allow me to pull his underpants down and I took his dick in my mouth. He rubbed my nipples as I sucked, and I started wanking myself off as I knelt between his legs.
"Don't come," he warned me.
After a few minutes, Mike stopped me and we got under his bedclothes together. We held each other and the friendly, smiling Mike re-appeared. I loved the more dominant, sexual Mike, but it felt lovely to be in the arms of the kind, relaxed Mike. Both Iain and Mike seemed to have an aggressive side which would come out when we had sex, but in Iain's case it was more muted. I guess that I might have found it a little confusing had I not been sure that they were ultimately and generally decent guys. As it was, I think I found that their dominant sexual personae were extremely horny, whilst also enjoying the more cuddly parts of being with them in private. Iain was certainly the more sensitive, understanding guy - I would never have spilled my troubles into Mike's ear as I had into Iain's - but Mike was more cheerful and light-hearted in his everyday personality. He was by far the more demanding and dominant when the mood took him, however. With Iain I felt that I was being asked to give myself, with Mike I was being told to do so.
"Iain bum-fucked you?" asked Mike. It wasn't really a question, but I giggled, "Yeah".
"You liked it?" Again, more of a statement than a question.
I giggled again and said, "Yeah; I suppose."
"Iain wants us to get together sometime - you, me and him. That'd be OK with you?"
"Uh huh," I replied quietly, although actually the idea was immensely exciting.
"How would that be: two Big Boys doing you?"
"Smooth," I said.
"Good. Well, we better get some practice in, eh?"
Mike didn't have any Vaseline and so we had to resort to good old spit. I sucked on Mike's cock again, working up as much saliva as I could onto it, and then he fingered some spit into my arsehole. He entered me as we lay on our sides. He was less patient than Iain had been and again I clenched my fists as a Big Boy's dick forced its way into me. This time I gritted my teeth as well. As his fucking loosened me up he pushed down the covers and pulled my top leg up, spreading my arse and pushing his dick in further. A few strokes later he told me to roll onto my back. His cock slipped out of me as I turned, but he pushed my knees up to my chest and shoved it back in.
I'd never been fucked like this before and I felt so wonderfully powerless and used as Mike rose over me, his dick deep in my hole. He told me to hold my legs and spread them wider. I did so, but he soon grabbed my ankles and held my legs stretched further apart, as wide as he could get them. Then he let go, lowered his chest to mine and whispered in my ear, "You're such a good little bumboy, aren't you?" Before I could agree, Mike was kissing me. My legs were over his shoulders and I wrapped my arms around him as he slowed his fucking and we kissed deeply. My arsehole still hurt terribly, but being kissed and hurt at the same time by a Big Boy was overwhelmingly wonderful.
"Oh, fuck!" Mike muttered as he drew back from me and grabbed my ankles again.
"Wank yourself!" he told me.
He spunked in my arse just a few minutes later and stayed in me as I brought myself off.
I started writing my sexual memoirs at the request of an online undergraduate friend who had been to an all-boys private day school at which there was little sex between the boys. He was keen to hear about "what went on at boarding school".
Do let me know if you are enjoying this. Email: spelchek@hushmail.com