This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual acts between the characters in it. Although the characters are young teenagers, nothing written here should be taken as approval of sexual liaisons between people where such liaisons are either illegal, or objectionable for moral reasons. Although this story does not include safe sex practices, it is everyone's own responsibility to themselves and to each other to engage only in PROTECTED SEX. It is a story. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Nothing represented here is based on any fact know to the author.
The story is copyright 1999 by "Its Only Me from Across the Sea". If you copy the story, please leave the credits, and the web address of http://www.iomfats.org present, and also the email address of email@example.com. I'd love to receive feedback.
So, that's how it started. Fourteen years old, and away from home on a school trip. It was odd, really, because I had been going out with Carol for some time - since I was twelve, I guess. She was pretty, and had deep blue eyes, pale gold hair, and a face to die for. I had thought myself really lucky to have her as my special girlfriend.
I was a bit worried about what to do when we kissed, though. I mean, I could cope with all the usual stuff, and I really enjoyed it when Carol put her tongue in my mouth for a change. And the cuddling was good, too, but I kept wondering what to do with my hands - where do you put them? There were too many places to get told off for! Kissing was as much as Carol wanted. A great snog, but not much else.
I tried stroking her breasts - beautiful if you like breasts - but I've always thought of myself as a "bum and thigh" kind of a guy. It didn't do much for me. Didn't seem to do much for Carol either, apart from make her cross! I tried my hand on her bum - tight, adorable, kissable bum (well, if I ever saw it without clothes over it, I hoped it would be kissable) - but she took it away [the hand, not the bum; come to think of it she did take the bum away]. Kissing was what she wanted. Now I wanted it too, but all my mates and I had been pretending that we'd had sex since we were 11, so I had a sort of image to keep up!
That's when we went on the school trip
It wasn't easy to get the money to go. We weren't poor, exactly, it's just that my Dad's money was kind of spoken for. When he heard how many of my friends were going, he and Mum managed it somehow. I guess he was pleased that I got along with Carol so well, and that she was going along. He decided when she came round after school to do some work together and told him that she was looking forward to the trip
We were caught the train from Victoria Station (did I tell you I live in London?) to Folkestone, and catch the ferry to Calais. This was before the Channel Tunnel. Train to somewhere in the South of France, and stay in a sort of school place. Lots of kids stayed there. I shared with Carol as much of the trip as girls and boys were allowed to share. No kissing, no cuddling. The teachers were pretty strict about that.
Usual stuff. I suppose all kids abroad for the first time do it. We made fun of the French place names, shouted at French kids, bought cigarettes we never intended to smoke from the machines on the station platforms when we changed trains. Aren't they horrible - I was nearly sick. I'm never ever going to smoke. We made a real nuisance of ourselves. I'll bet the teachers were glad to see the back of us at the end of it.
It was a long trip. I shared the sleeping compartment - rock hard bunks - with five other boys from my year, and got no sleep at all. We just talked, laughed, and larked about, and, of course, discussed sex. We each had to do a "truth or dare", and I found myself avoiding the dare, which was to - well never mind what it was to do, it was dead embarrassing - by saying that I never knew what to do with my hands when kissing a girl. I got away with it - phew! We had some pretty gross dares. I could have strangled the kid who suggested it. Apart from the dares, it was all pretty simple stuff. No-one really wanted to do the dares or force anyone else to, and we all thought no more about it. Or so I thought at the time.
The school we stayed at had shared rooms, two boys or two girls to a room. I was sharing with Nigel, a kid in my year, one of those "Sports Gods" who gets picked for every team going. Good looking kid, and really fit. Not part of my group, and not really any more than someone I just knew.
We unpacked - well threw our stuff into cupboards - and set out to find food, then a ball to kick about. it was about seven at night when we had our supper, and then we were packed off early for bed. A long trip, and an early night. heck, it had taken us about 20 hours to get here, we were tired.
As the lights went out, Nigel and I kept talking.
"What's this I hear about your problem with your hands?"
"What problem - my hands are all right?"
"Well, the guys you travelled down with thought you didn't know what to do with them when you were kissing Carol", he said.
"Yes, well, mmm" I mumbled, though why I was embarrassed now I hadn't the slightest idea. I suppose it was just because there were just two of us.
"Hey, Chris" I didn't tell you, that's my name, Chris, "No big deal. I, er, was a bit shy about what I was going to ask you" said Nigel, smiling by the sound of him, "If you don't want to talk, that's fine by me"
"No, go on, it was just rather a surprise, that's all. It was a truth or dare thing."
"Well," said Chris "I know you've been going out with Carol for some time, and that you guys are an item and all that. Loads of people are dead envious. I'm sort of envious. You probably don't know, but I've never kissed a girl. And Carol's friends say you are a fantastic kisser."
"Mmphh" Oh embarrassing in the extreme, but rather good to know, I thought. Jeez, what's coming next?
"We'ell," Nigel hesitated, "well.... I was ... I was... kind of hoping you would give me a few pointers on kissing?"
This was really weird, but I felt myself becoming all brotherly, and I haven't got a brother, nor a sister, so I've no idea what was going on here. This god of the sports field, who was actually good looking enough to have a whole army of girls all to himself if he only realised it, had come to me, ME, to ask how to kiss. I guess I would have gone to him to ask about soccer, so fair deal.
"Well, erm, OK, Nigel, but what do you mean?"
"This is sort of embarrassing, but I've no idea how to start, even," he said softly. "I mean, it all looks so, so wet!!
Now I don't know whether I had the idea, whether Nigel had the idea, or what. I still can't tell if it was the best idea or the worst idea in the world. Whatever it was, however it happened, I found myself saying, as a brother, you understand, "Have you noticed that girls practice kissing before a date?"
"Do you mean practice kissing with you?" he asked.
OK, brave now. I could do something that the god couldn't. "Sure, why not. I mean it won't mean anything will it? And there's only us to know. There IS only us, isn't there?" I was suddenly not quite so brave.
"I'm not sure" he said, softly. "I guess it would be OK."
So that's where we found ourselves. Sharing a room, and talking about kissing as a sort of clinical exercise. And did we do it? Sure we did. Right then and there. Both of us, well certainly me, feeling a little foolish. Nigel and I got out of our beds, and came into a clumsy clinch.
We banged noses. "I can see why you need lessons!" I laughed "Tilt your head to your right. Now, gently put your lips on mine. Keep them dry mind, and I'll take you a step at a time."
This was kind of fun. Nigel was strong, and felt good to the touch. A firm body, strong back, my height, well perhaps a little less, and, even after the trip, smelled of soap and shampoo. His lips were yielding, put strong, as though he knew what he was doing.
We broke apart. "Helps if you can breathe through your ears, he giggled. Can we try the tongues bit next?"
He seemed almost too eager. Liplock, and I found his tongue in my mouth before I could tell him what to do. And, do you know, it felt good. Better than Carol. What am I saying, how could it be better than Carol, she was my girlfriend, and we snogged every time we could? Better than Carol. There was something electric about this body in my arms. Better than Carol, better to hold, better to kiss, better to - my hands were going down to his bum. Better than Carol.
I broke apart. "Nigel, I need a break" I had to come to my senses.
"I know. I kind of feel that way too", he said, out of breath. "It felt really good when you ran your hands all over my body - I thought you didn't know what to do with them?"
"I.. I'm not sure you really need lessons. You seem to know what to do by instinct. I'm tired, I think. I need some sleep." Truth was I was actually very aroused, and I didn't want Nigel to know. Well, obviously he could have felt it, the pyjamas were pretty thin, and we were holding each other, but then I hadn't noticed whether he was too. In fact I hadn't even thought about it.
Have you ever tried to wank silently when you have a roommate? Just holding the covers high enough not to rustle, keeping the movements delicate to stop the bed from creaking, trying to keep control of your breathing? Stroking your cock so delicately? Moving your foreskin down and back, just gently, just gently, and hoping he wouldn't notice? Catching yourself starting to tense, and straining to stop speeding up, to keep breathing normally, keeping control of the sounds you make when you cum? Have you?
I have. I did. But it was all wrong. I tried as hard as I could to picture Carol, as I usually did, but Nigel kept coming into my head. Just the feel of him. I think his image was with me in my head when I came that night.
The next morning, nothing was said. Just another day. Nigel and I went to breakfast, and sat together - nothing remarkable in that, most roommates sat together - at breakfast. We had some sort of outing to go on that day. Why is it that school trips are nothing but travel, and then to really boring places?
I sat with Carol on the bus, as usual. Nothing had changed in my feelings for her. I still wanted to kiss her, but I wanted something more, too. We found a place for a snogging session around lunchtime.
"You seem different," she said when we came up for air, "not sure what, but there's a sort of urgency in your kissing. I haven't felt it before."
"Is it better?"
"Mmm," she purred dreamily, "more interesting, more, oh, I don't know, more tense, somehow. French air must be romantic after all! I never believed it would be, I though that was all rubbish!"
I felt different. I don't know what it was, but I felt different. Not so much of a kid anymore, but not grown up yet, either. I began to feel that I actually knew what I wanted, except I didn't know, and I knew I didn't know, and I wished I did know, and came over all weak from the effort of thinking about it and it was all too complicated anyway.
There was one thing I did know, though. I thought I knew. I knew that I wanted to try another kissing lesson with Nigel. I mean, I wasn't attracted to him or anything, but he made me feel really good, and I liked that feeling. I wondered if he would want it, too.
Oh the afternoon dragged. I fell asleep on the coach. Why we couldn't go to the beach I don't know. Sun on our backs, salt water on our bodies, and sand between the toes, that was what we all wanted to do. Visit another damn ruin was what the history teacher wanted to do. Bugger ruins.
I wasn't so tired at lights out, though. "Nigel?"
"Do you want to...?"
"Do what we did last night?"
"I'm not sure. Do you?" This could get ridiculous. How to break the after you, no after you cycle without seeming stupid, or even gay?
"Well, have you learnt enough?" That should do it, I thought.
"Is there more?" he asked, very softly.
"Practice makes perfect" Ouch, what a stupid phrase.
"The thing is," he said, after I had extracted his tongue from my mouth ten minutes later, all the while wondering how it had got there so quickly, "the thing is, I may have something to teach you."
If you have never been in this situation, you'll never know what was going through my mind. On the one hand we were engaged in legitimate research into the arts of kissing, so it was scientific. On the other, I was in thin cotton pyjamas, so erect and excited I thought I was touching the ceiling with the tip of my cock, AND I could sense that Nigel was the same. This was forbidden.
Forbidden, but exciting, and private, and suddenly I didn't care what happened to me, what I did, even where I was.
Hold back. Seem unsure. Heck I was unsure. "What do you mean?"
"Well, we all talk about sex, right?"
"I talk as much as anyone, but I've never been with a girl - well you know that anyway"
"I'll bet you haven't either?"
Now this was a real low blow, right into my mini-masculine pride. I'd been telling people about my exploits for years. Not that there had been any, but I'd been saying that there had been. "The truth? No" I almost whispered.
"I'd like to return the favour for the kissing. It would be a kind of favour to me as well."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you trust me?"
A little trembly now "Not sure"
As we were speaking, Nigel was getting closer to me. Well he couldn't get much closer, but he seem to be closer. I noticed things in the darkness about him, the shape of his eyes, the spun silver of his hair - or was I imagining it? The sweetness of his breath, even after toothpaste! His hands moved very gently over my body, starting at the nape of my neck, and moving in circles so light as almost to tickle, but without tickling lower down my spine, just stroking. I was hypnotised. I told you that he was a sports god. This boy was doing something for me, and I was enjoying it. "If I can say 'stop' and you promise to stop, I trust you." I heard myself breathing the words.
"I promise." And he kissed me again, and it was electric, and I saw lightning, and all the stars came on and went out in a flash.
I don't know when the pyjamas disappeared, either his or mine. I just remember feeling skin against my skin, and it was for the first time in my life, and it felt good. I felt his hands, warm, soft, yet strong, stroking my whole body, all over except not anywhere near where our two cocks were almost tied together. Oh, I knew Nigel was excited now..
"I'm going to teach you about sex." I never actually heard him say that, I just felt it, as a breath in my ear. My heart was pounding, and I could hardly breath. "I'm going to be so gentle, so gentle, soo gentle . ." his voice faded away, and he was kissing my neck, and I was stroking him, and holding him so tight, yet so loosely at the same time.
We kind of reversed onto his bed, him first, me clumsily on top of him, and rolled to be side by side. His hands, those wonderful hands, never left me for a moment, and he still was just stroking my body, smooth body, almost hairless, apart from those strange little wisps I wanted him to touch at the base of my cock. "Lie still," he whispered.
Lying on my back, I could see him outlined against the moonlit window, sitting beside me, looking down at me, see his arms, watch his hands moving down my chest, down my sides, down my legs. I could see his shoulders, the curve of his head, the join of his neck with his shoulders, and he was beautiful. And he was here with me, and stroking me. "You're beautiful," I heard him say. "You're beautiful."
And then he kissed my cock. And gently, so gently took it into his mouth, and with his hands gently slid the skin down the shaft to expose the cockhead, and cupped my balls in the other, and ran his tongue all over it. And I couldn't believe it. And then he started to move up and down on it, slowly up and down, licking, nibbling, but never with teeth, and massaging behind my ball sack, between my legs with one hand or the other, but never hard enough to make me cum. "Nigel ...." I gasped.
He was kneeling straddling me, facing me. I could see his cock, straining towards me, drips forming at the tip. I wanted to kiss it. "No, this is my treat," he said. He took the drips, and placed them on the tip of my cock, there between his legs, by his own, for he was sitting, kneeling on my thighs. "You're going to fuck me."
And my cock was in his hand, and he was moving upright, and placing is, oh so carefully between his legs. "But ..."
"Shh" So softly, and I looked at his face, and his eyes looked at me as he shushed me, and I saw into his soul.
As he began to put his weight on me, on my cock, my hard, wild cock, I saw his expression change, and a moment, just that, of pain flashed across his face and I felt a tremendous urge to thrust forward. He was hot, sweating, and so beautiful, there above me, looking down, with the tip of my cock only just inside him. And it felt good.
He was there forever, then imperceptibly lower and lower. The skin on my cock seemed to stretch, and I was inside - inside that hot, secret, velvet place, and gripped so tightly that no hand could ever feel like that. And he moved up, then down. And I was sliding deeper in, then out, and so excited. I was almost cumming just with the thought of it. I reached for his cock. "Not this time. This is my gift to you," he murmured. "I love you, Chris. I've loved you since we met, and I want to be with you forever. This is my gift to you."
And he moved faster and faster, until I thought I would burst. Tidal waves came crashing through me, my back arched so strongly it lifted both of us, and I came, hot, forever, hot, deep inside the boy who loved me, who wanted me forever. I've never felt like that before. Almost vicious with the pumping, hot, hard,, and so deep inside him. And I knew.
Oh I knew. "Nigel?"
"Hold me." I was in tears, not sobbing, but weeping, not afraid, and in love with Nigel - my seducer, my lover.
And somehow, we were in each other's arms, and both weeping gently, and neither of knowing exactkly why we were in tears.
And that's how we woke.
"Quick - make my bed untidy!" That was my first thought, because we'd spent the night on Nigel's.
We just made it (unmade it?) when the wake up crew came in to get us up for breakfast. I looked at Nigel, almost as though it was for the first time. How can I describe him: The brightest pools of blue eyes, smiling, cheeky, under his hair, spun silver shot with gold. Happy, smiling mouth, pink cheeks, and a sort of radiance around him that I thought everyone could see.
"Did you really tell me you loved me?"
"I really love you."
"Nigel, I've never been loved before. I don't think I've ever loved anyone before either. I feel really strange, but I don't want it to stop. I think I love you, too." Scary, but I'd said it, and I found my body meaning it.
Oh no. Carol. What was I to do about Carol? "Nigel?"
"Nigel, what am I going to do about Carol?"
"Yes, I'd wondered about that. Don't do anything yet."
"But she's going to want to snog with me,and ... and ... and ..."
And that's another story, and I may tell you about it someday.