Story Six.           A LIFE IN THE CLOSET  by  AARON THE AUSSIE.

 

If you are under 18 you should NOT be here, so DO NOT read on.  Just EXIT NOW.

 

"A Life in the Closet" is total fiction, but it is very largely based on my life experiences, so quite a lot of it is an attempt to record in a slightly changed way, some of the actual significant events in my real life.  And of course, names etc. have been changed.

 

Each Story that I have written, ( and I have used that word rather than the word Chapter ) can be read quite independently of all the others, because each is a complete, stand-alone story.  Some are longer than others and some have less or even minimal, if any sex.  But, the basic Gay / Boy Lover theme is there in each story. 

 

However, they are all written from my point of view and I have tried to keep them basically in an order of chronology.  So, they can be read in number order giving, an overview and flow to a significant number of the things that have happened to me over the years.

 

In my mid-teens, following an event which had a horrendous and profound effect on my life, I guess I lost direction and focus for a while and to some extent, went off the rails. The story below is about how I got through that testing time whilst still trying to cope at High School

 

I have tried to make each story interesting and as sexy as possible, whilst keeping them all as REAL as I could, particularly as regards things like; the language used, the ages of those involved, the time period relevant to that particular story and the prevailing attitudes of the community at the time.  

 

For convenience, all of my Stories have been placed in a single Directory in the: Gay, Adult / Youth Category. 

"Young Friends" and "High School" are really the most relevant categories for this particular Story.       

 

All of my Stories are completed and I don't plan to make any changes to them, but I would still be very interested in your feedback. I guess all Nifty Authors really like to feel appreciated for their efforts and we all love positive feedback.  So please email me at:  aarontheaussie@bigpond.com

 

Just a reminder that Nifty needs our financial support.  Please help with what you can, if you can.  Every bit helps, no matter how small.

 

So... Here goes I hope you find this story OK.

 

Aaron.

 

HIGH SCHOOL – BAD HABITS WITH CIGGIES, SURFERS & SEX.

 

I was absolutely despondent a lot of the time, without real interest in anything much, especially School.  Just being 15 was hard enough. Being without Phillip, the love of my life was devastating. Phillip was a Scout friend, not a School friend ( see Story 5. ) but, he and his Mum had been senselessly and stupidly killed by a drunk driver and losing them effected every part of my existence.

 

Year 10 at School was important, a year in those days when your academic results and achievements meant that you would progress to years 11 and 12 and perhaps beyond to University or College, or alternatively that you would leave and become an Apprentice or just otherwise enter the workforce.

 

As a reasonably good student I had always assumed progressing and I knew that the expectation of my parents was clearly that I would continue, no discussion necessary, full stop.  The difficulty was my state of mind.

 

Mum and Dad knew and felt that they understood my pain and they were as supportive of me as they were able to be.  It's not easy at my age they agreed, to loose people with whom I was so close, especially when they both still had so much of their lives ahead of them and what happened was so pointless.  What they did not understand or appreciate was that my relationship with Phillip was more than just close, it was loving and had become quite intimate. But, there was no way I wanted that known by anyone, especially my parents.  That was private and something I knew I wanted to and had to keep to myself. That was the hardest part.

 

I had known for quite some years that I was strongly attracted to boys and although I was quiet and reserved, not at all the type to initiate anything sexual, I did have quite a bit of prior sexual experience. But, Phillip was my first real love. My relationship with him went well beyond, just sex.

 

I still considered myself reasonably good looking, although I was probably pretty much your Mr average.  By then my hair had darkened and I was wearing glasses.  And, quite a few people said I was a bit of a "Buddy Holly" lookalike, which I took right or wrong as a compliment.       

 

So, at School I did what I had to and seemed to get by, but a lot of the time, although I was physically there, my head was not and I was developing a "don't much care" attitude.

 

Even travelling to and from School on the bus, whereas I would ordinarily have been reading a textbook or novel, or doing something else constructive to pass the time, now I tended to just sit ( when I got a seat ) and stare into my own distant and private hell, like a zombie.

 

Most mornings, there was a boy of about my age on the bus I usually caught to School, who I knew vaguely at a distance from school.  I had never spoken to him and didn't know his name and I didn't see him as my type at all.   But, we would each nod as I got on and I noticed that he always had the same seat, suggesting that he got on close to the start of the line, because I didn't always even get a seat, let alone the same one all the time.  Sometimes the bus became really crowded and he had to eventually surrender his seat and stand up for an adult commuter.  Most of the time however, I sat in the back section of the bus, often across from and facing him.

 

To me he was a good looking kid, but in the newer style of the time, with longer messy dark hair. His School uniform was pretty tatty and worn untidily and he seemed a bit of a rough type.  I also noticed that most mornings once we got off the bus at the Terminus, while I set straight out to walk the several blocks to School, he moved away in another direction and appeared to slink off up a side alley.

 

Given my depression, I think it took quite a long time before it dawned on me fully one day, that whenever I sat across from him at the back of the bus in my private little, zonked kind of state, I had actually taken to staring quite unconsciously but intensely at this boy.  What felt more unnerving about this, was that he appeared to be staring right back at me with equal intensity.

 

From then on I tried to be more alert to what was happening and over several weeks it became clear that we were both engaging in some kind of non-verbal communication, I didn't want to and couldn't stop, even though I didn't understand why it was happening.  In fact there was a definite sexual undertone to it, but that did not register with me as a possibility at the time.

 

I do think however, that I then gradually started to notice little things; like the stroking of a hand in a certain way, a copycat response to occasional lip licking or lip licking that was more pronounced than occasional with the appearance of lots of, and more exaggerated tongue than would be normally expected, even the occasional re-adjusting grope of the package.

 

As usual my problem was of course my uncertainties and insecurities.  Was it real or just my imagination?  If it was real, was he genuinely interested or was he just a hood with a bit of a suspicion, trying to draw me out for exposure and ridicule at school, where I could be branded as a known "Fag"   

 

Then one day, the bus became so crowded that we both had to stand, in something of a crush and as it happened we were quite close together.  School bags were cluttered around our feet and even with something to hold onto as the bus lurched along, balance was a bit difficult.  On several occasions we swayed together and I became aware that his free hand was making direct contact with me in an area needing very little stimulation before achieving a spontaneous response.  I was aroused, but again unsure whether what was happening was intentional or accidental and I was concerned that the tenting of my trousers might be noticed by other people.

 

I managed to turn my body so that my tenting was more hidden, but in so doing I also tended to position myself so that his hand could no longer easily continue its assault, if in fact it was intentional.  This gave me a little time to consider the situation, during which I decided to go on the offensive and check out his response.  By changing hands on the bar I was holding, I was then able to drop my newly free hand into a perfect position for groping him without anyone else seeing and I awaited the next sway of the bus.

 

It happened just as I had planned, but it was not just a momentary thing as he clearly prevented his body from swinging back with the sway of the bus and my hand stayed hidden but firmly pressed against his package, which he seemed to be pressing further forward into my hand.  There was clearly a level of arousal present, which suggested to me that his motive was more likely to be real interest than anything else, so I chanced it, took a proper handful and really groped, feeling both his dick and his balls. He didn't back off at all or say anything and I was able to continue to feel him up until the next stop, when quite a few people exited and we had to separate.

 

That day when we got off the bus at the Junction we still hadn't spoken to each other, but he jerked his head as if to say "come with me" and I fell into step with him as he took his usual course away from the Terminus and turned into that side alley.

 

The alley connected with a laneway that appeared to run behind the shops on the main street and it was pretty grotty, but we continued along it and he eventually stopped and leaned against the wall beside an open doorway to a set of steep stairs obviously leading to an upper floor.

 

He took a box of matches from his pocket and whilst twirling the box between his fingers, he looked at me and spoke for the first time, saying:

 

"Shit, I need a smoke bad, but I ain't got the money.  Have you got any Mate?"

 

My dad was a smoker and he had permitted me to try a puff or two before occasionally and for me at that moment there was a certain illicit type appeal to it, even though I knew that it was really in the "forbidden fruit" category.

 

"Sorry" I said, "I haven't got any cigarettes"

 

"Not smokes, dickhead" he replied, "Money"

 

I pulled some cash from my pocket and looking at it he said, "that's enough, we'll buy a pack of tailor made cigs upstairs"  and he mentioned a couple of preferred brands saying, "Gi'me the cash".

 

I allowed him to take it and followed as he turned, went through the doorway and started up the stairs. At the top there was an entrance leading into a pool or snooker type hall and he turned to me and said,  "We got time for a game or 2 before School, so I've got the money to shout us into the hall, your shouting the smokes, OK?"  I nodded and we went in.

 

He went straight to the counter and got our smokes and we opened them and lit up straight away. The bloke behind the counter didn't even blink an eye, as though it was a quite normal thing to sell to kids. The kid handed me some change, as well as the smokes and his matches, suggesting that we would share the whole packet, but that I should look after them as I paid.

 

There were a few people playing, including a couple of others from school, who I didn't know, but they were all a bit rough looking and I felt a little out of place.  On the other hand, with a cigarette in my hand I seemed to be accepted OK and felt a part for the first time, of a somewhat cool group.

 

Finally I put out my hand and said, "My names Aaron".  "Yeah, I know your name Aarry Boy"  he said  "They call me "Mike the Spike" cause I usta have a crewcut" he said.

 

"If this morning is anything to go by" I said with a wink to see how he would respond,  "You still have quite an impressive Spike!!"

 

He looked around carefully and then said quietly,  "We might keep quiet about that in present company".

 

As we eventually walked together to School, I noted that we would be late, but for the first time I thought,  "Who cares!!" and realized that the morning had already involved quite a few "First Times" and that I was actually enjoying myself.

 

"Well Aarry Boy"  Mike said,  "you were full of surprises this morning and I'm impressed, I didn't think you'd wanna do any of that stuff, but I gotta tell ya that as a Pool player, your shit!!"

 

I laughed and agreed, although personally I didn't think I was all that bad.

 

"Why did I surprise you?"  I asked.

 

"Cause you're a Goody 2 Shoes in all the top classes, who don't come across as someone who'd be interested in the stuff we just did, or the likes of me who aint in any of your classes.  That's why we've never associated or known each other till now, despite both being in the same year. But,"  he said,  "I've checked you out. That's how come I knew your name."

 

As we entered the School gates he said,  "Come on, we're late now so we may as well be a bit later" and he led me into a building, up some stairs and along a corridor to a boys room I hadn't even known existed.

 

"Very few people come in here" he said, "Let's use a cubical"

 

We entered together and I locked the door.  By the time I turned to him, he was sitting on the loo with his trousers and undies down around his ankles.

 

He reached for my belt, unzipped me and had soon lowered my clothing down to my ankles too.  He reached forward, took my jutting hardness and it quickly disappeared into the warm wet moisture of his mouth where it was attacked, but then caressed by his tongue.  I began to pump and he took my hips and controlled the rhythm as he sucked with skill that obviously came from experience. In fact, what he was doing was so good that I could feel myself quickly reaching the point of no return.  He sensed this and backed off a bit so that we could keep it going a little longer. But, the way his tongue explored around and under the little bit of foreskin I have just covering the ridge edge of my head, into my piss slit and across the sensitive area beneath the head, I knew I was going to explode quickly and big time. And I did, but he was ready and he took every last drop I had to give, seeming to love and savor it all.

 

My high was exquisite and I was groaning a little and puffing somewhat as I came down. Meanwhile however, Mike was up off the toilet and he maneuvered me around to sit down so that before I knew it, his beautiful cock was entering my mouth.

 

By 15, I was pretty much fully mature with a good, solid and straight 6 inches or a bit more when hard.  It was slim, which pleased me as I'm not excited by excessive girth and my balls were well proportioned.  I still had minimal body hair ( which also pleased me ) beyond my pubic bush, which I kept neat and trimmed.

 

When bared as he was, Mikes whole appearance was remarkably similar to mine and his cock jutted up in the same way at a good angle, straight and true. As I took it in I savored its warmth, its silky softness and its slight aroma, whilst marveling at its steel-like hardness and I vowed to fully emulate his wonderful work on me or better it.  I managed to back off a little, a couple of times prolonging his experience, before finally bringing him to a massive climax, which seemed every bit as good as mine and of course I was well rewarded with a huge load of cum.

 

"That'll do for now" he said, "It was good, but let's get going".  

 

As we parted to go to our separate classes, Mike said,  "You Don't hang out much down at the beach, do ya?" 

 

When I said  "No" he said,  "Come down after school this afternoon. I'll meet you at the old changing sheds at the North end... and don't forget to bring the smokes".  And he was off. 

 

As I watched him go I had to remark to myself about his tendency to assume agreement. There was no – Would you like to come, Or Would you please come – Question Mark.  It was just – This is the arrangement, see you then!

 

I had never been late before without good reason. But, at least at the time, there didn't seem to be any adverse reactions or comments, so it didn't seem to be the issue that I thought it might be.  As a result I was late quite a few times during the months that followed without apparent consequence.

 

It's a 10 minute walk from the Junction to the School and about a further 10 minutes onward to the beach. So going there after School means a 20 minute walk or thereabouts, back to the Junction to get the bus home.   In the summer the beach is wall to wall people and the one little General Store near it does a monster trade. During the rest of the year the beach is a somewhat desolate place and the Store has lean pickings, mainly just from its regulars who live in the immediate area.

 

I really wanted to join Mike at the beach that afternoon, but was worried about getting home so late and about parental response should any of the things I was doing with him and his mates, become known.  Not that what I was getting into was by any means all that serious ( especially by today's standards ) but, for a 15 year old, relative Goody, Goody back in those days, to me what I was doing needed to be clandestine.   For the same reasons, I didn't feel that I could let joining him at the beach become too much of a regular thing, so I felt that I needed a good cover story, which would at the same time limit my involvement to perhaps no more than about once a week.

 

Now that I actually had Mike as a friend, I quite liked him. But he was more just the catalyst for this period of rebellion I was starting to get into, than someone I would normally have had as a real friend and whilst I felt a strong desire to reject the "Goody 2 Shoes" label and rebel, I was still a little too wary to just jump in, disregarding all of the possible consequences.

 

In terms of a cover story, I had one really big helpful plus and that was where my Nana ( Mums Mother ) lived, just near the School.  I regularly had lunch with Nana and could and occasionally did stay overnight with her. ( when she was well enough )  So, having thought carefully about it during the day, I dropped in on Nana on my way to the beach that afternoon.

 

Nana was quite impressed and pleased that I planned to help and tutor my new friend Mike with his school work, regularly each Tuesday afternoon and she was happy to have me stay-over each Tuesday night for that purpose. 

 

While there, once I had Nana's agreement, I phoned home and got the OK from there as well.

 

Provided that I was back at Nana's by about 6.oclock for our evening meal and she didn't ask too many questions, this meant that my Tuesdays after school were mine to spend as I chose.

 

I met Mike and some of his mates as planned at the beach and as it was our Autumn or Fall, heading into our Aussie mid-year Winter period, the wind there was cool and the area was somewhat more desolate and quiet than I had expected.  Still, there were a few people around and I had fun just hanging out with these blokes that until now, I would probably have described as just "Local Hoods". 

 

There were around half a dozen in the group that day and a couple were clearly very much Surfer types.  We didn't do much other than just hang out together. We hung out either on the beach itself or around the store and hanging out meant; smoking a lot, talking, chatting up any girls who were around, playing the pin-ball machines at the store and for most of the group, drinking beer.  Since I now had a major phobia / hatred of alcohol, no one in the group succeeded in getting me to drink, despite amazing peer pressure as they really pressed hard to have me do so.

 

It seemed to me also, that the talk was mainly big talk, or "one-up-manship" and it revolved about things like girls, drinking, surfing and cars or motor bikes, not that any of that interested me that much, and that the vast majority of it required a high level of boastfully "big noting" yourself.  Still, although very quiet, particularly at the beginning, I was with Mike so seemed to be accepted into the group.  I noticed that when it came to the subject of girls, Mike seemed right into it with lots to say and I thought, either he's good at pretense or perhaps he's actually Bi.

 

My casual ( once a week) type participation as part of the group seemed to apply to others too and was readily accepted, and as the weeks passed, going to the beach Tuesday afternoons became routine.  Mike went more regularly, but usually only stayed an hour or so heading off with enough time to walk to the Junction for the 10 past 5, bus.  Most weeks, the rest had all also drifted off by about 5.oclock, giving me lots and lots of time to be back at Nana's by when I was expected.

 

On Mornings other than Wednesday, I still saw Mike on the bus and we continued to often go to the Pool Room, although I made more effort to get away early enough to minimize being late at school too often.

 

We also continued, but on a more casual basis, it seemed to me when Mike was in the mood, to use that cubical for sex.  We didn't do much more than we had on that first day, but I still looked forward to it happening and loved it when it did.

 

I always felt like a big man with a cigarette in my hand and back then, felt that I enjoyed smoking. Regrettably, I was soon hooked and it was many years before I was finally able to quit.  Back then I had two problems; keeping the habit quiet from my family and normal friends, and funding it from my minimal school boy pocket money, as I gradually tended to smoke more.

 

A habit I got into each Tuesday afternoon to fill that spare hour or so I had to myself before heading back to Nana's, was to spend it hanging out, at or near the old north end beach changing shed.  It was really old and dilapidated. In fact it only had cold showers, used occasionally, mainly by the die-hard surfers and it did have a grubby little changing area.  But, it was mainly just used as a public toilet.

 

Like many Park type public toilets, the cubicles' there drew me to their interesting proliferations of lurid art and graffiti, as well as their strategically placed glory holes.  This place was frequented mainly by older men, but I did see a few teens and younger looking blokes ( perhaps in their early twenties ) go in from time to time.

 

There was one, a surfer type I thought from a distance to be really good looking and aged perhaps about 17, who I observed to enter each week with regularity shortly after 5, but never came out for quite some time and I thought I wouldn't mind checking him out.

 

Way back when I first took interest in toilets, aged about 10, I so much wanted to make a glory hole or similar punter contact, but just didn't have the guts at that age to even try and I remember thinking at the time, that one day I would find the courage if I found a "Special Someone".  So far I hadn't, but I was still very interested.

 

So one Tuesday, I went in right at five and took what I thought was the best cubical for strategic observation. I locked the door, dropped my daks and undies, sat down and waited.

 

When someone entered the next cubical, my first task was to be sure that it was him and I had a well-placed peep hole for that.  Sure enough it was and I was able to watch him drop his board shorts and begin to massage his Speedo covered package, while still standing reading graffiti.  Then he carefully lowered his Speedos' sat down, leaned back, took a glorious looking cock into his hand and started to pump it.

 

He looked absolutely magnificent with what seemed your typical bronzed and sculptured surfers body, peroxide blond unkept long hair and what seemed flawless beautiful facial features. My assessment of him from a distance had been good, but wanting a better view of his face than I had, I moved a little and he must have heard me.  When I tried the glory hole I intended using, all I saw was an eye looking back.  This was scary, but exciting and I thought to myself I'm caught red handed, so let's see what happens. I stood up, faced the glory hole leaning back on the other wall, took myself in hand and began to pump.

 

As I wantonly displayed myself to the eye beyond the glory hole, I was in a state of nervous excitement and expectation. Then there was movement next door. I didn't know just what would happen next.  But then his door opened and I thought he must be going to try coming into my cubical. Alas, to my great disappointment it seemed that he had just simply walked out and was gone.

 

I had to try catching a glimpse of him and see where he went, so I dressed quickly and moved out to the entrance way. But, peering out I couldn't see any sign of him at all.  Then I nearly jumped out of my skin when he put his hand on my shoulder from behind and said quietly, "Hi...I only live just up the road a bit, wanna hang out a while with me there?  I assure you it will be quite safe."

 

I agreed and we started to walk together.  It was only 5.15 then so I still had a good half hour before needing to head back to Nanas'.

 

It seemed that he had made out as if to leave the shed entirely, but had quietly slipped into the old change room area and as he intended, I had not seen him when I rushed to the entrance.

 

As we walked, we introduced ourselves and Eric said,  "I come down to the old change shed most days for a good wank off, just as soon as my idiot faced Step Father heads off to the Pub to get smashed, as he always does like clockwork at the same time, day after day.  I don't know how he does it, but he usually manages to get himself home somehow once the Pub closes at 10, even though by then he's totally and parraletically pissed out of his head.  So the house is usually all mine throughout most evenings".

 

I said,  "I've get a special and very personal reason for hating drinking and drunks and I'm really anti-alcohol... So, how can you live with him?"

 

"Most of the time I hate him" Eric said,  "And I've had the bruises and worse to prove why I should, but Mum died when I was just a kid and since then, he's been all I've had, because once she went there's just been the 2 of us. It sucks, but that's my life, at least I don't see much of him and we each tend to do our own thing.  One day soon I'll be old enough and have the bread to move out on my own".

 

I asked his age and he said 16.  "but, I'm nearly 17" he said, "And now I'm working, I'm trying to save madly so I can move out.

 

Once we reached his house, I could see his problem. His Stepfathers room was open and it was an absolute pigsty and with one exception, the rest of the place wasn't much better.  I felt for him because the exception was his room, which was neat enough and reasonably tidy. He told me he wouldn't dare go into Jack, his Stepfathers room, but that he did his best with the rest of the place.

 

He told me that his passion was surfing and that it plus his job kept him fit.  He said he was always up early enough to do a couple of hours on his board chasing the big waves, before heading off to work. He also surfed most weekends and that kept him away from Jack.  "So" he said,  "The evenings are usually my time to relax on my own and you can see that I spend very little time with Jack, which is how I like it!!"

 

"It sounds a bit lonely" I said and he replied,  "I don't really mind that because I can do my socializing at work and sometimes we have a few beers together after a hard days work.  I quite like to drink occasionally, but I rarely get blotto like Jack".

 

"Anyway" he said, "You're the first young person I've encountered down at the change shed, apparently with an interest like mine.  It's usually just old poofter blokes hanging around looking to score... How old are you and what do you like doing? You look like you've got a nice cock!!"

 

I told him I was 15 and the kind of things I had done and added, just how super I thought his cock looked.

 

By this time, he had put on some music, gotten a beer and a Coke for me and we were sitting comfortably, side by side on the lounge.  He put his right arm around my shoulders, drew me towards him and our lips met and then opened.  The kiss was long and passionate with dueling tongues and while it was happening my left hand slipped from his upper thigh into his crotch, where I found his magnificent thrusting weapon.

 

"Oh God" he said as we came up for breath,  "How I would love to Fuck your arse. But, I gather it hasn't happened yet, so I would be the one taking your virginity. What do you think?  I would try to be really gentle with you. Do you think you could take it?

 

I was thinking that, for a surfer, Eric seemed one of the nicest persons I had ever met.  But, then he shocked me with something like this and what he wanted to do really scared me. I knew that I had to leave soon, so at least it probably couldn't happen right then and there.  So I told him straight out, being very up front that I was quite nervous and unsure about the idea and needed time to think about it.  "Maybe next week" I said, "Maybe not, I just don't know".

 

"OK" he said,  "But I really like you, so please do come back... Whenever, Just be sure that there's no car in the driveway, meaning Jacks not here and ring the door-bell.  I'll be around and I'd love to see you again.  As I say, if we do it, I'll take it carefully.  But, we don't have to do it at all". It's your call".

 

On my way back to Nanas' I was uptight with this new issue on my mind and I had a couple of cigarettes to try to sooth my nerves.  It wasn't something I had ever even considered.  The idea of fucking someone kinda turned me off. It was something you did to a girl, and for me that was actually a quite revolting prospect.  On the other hand, being fucked might have some sort of appeal, I didn't know. Girls apparently liked it!!  But then they didn't get it up the bum and I was sure getting it that way would hurt like buggery... actually I thought with a bit of a grin, buggery is exactly what I was contemplating!!  My final thought as I turned in at Nanas' was that Eric did say he would be gentle, so maybe, because I was probably going to have to confront and deal with this, sooner or later.  I just hoped Eric knew what he was doing, after all he wasn't that much older than me.

 

Nana was just so lovely and she was a superb cook and I always enjoyed my meals with her. But she was getting very old and her major health problems were not improving, so she usually retired to bed quite early.  That night she was clearly not very well and because my mind was elsewhere I was not as attentive to her as I should have been... until she brought me right back to earth with a big thud.

 

"You have been smoking" she said  "And don't try to deny it, I can smell it quite strongly on your breath and I've got a good nose !!"

 

I knew I was in trouble. But then she said,  "Look, when you leave school you can do as you like, but until then please think about it. I will not say anything to your parents this time, but I don't want to smell it on you again. I don't like it and I can tell you that it's a dirty, addictive and expensive habit.  Do we have an understanding?"

 

I nodded meekly and she said, "Good, now I'm off to bed. The only thing I'll ask you to do before retiring is to put the garbage bin out... and don't stay up too late.

 

I sat brooding for quite some time after she had gone, hating myself for being so stupid and thoughtless as to be so easily caught, whilst still also contemplating the "Fucking" issue and I realized that another problem was the limited time we had to do it slowly, carefully and as I imagined it should be done, especially for the first time, during that short period between 5 and 6.oclock.

 

It was 8.20 then and Nana and I both normally closed our bedroom doors, so I thought, If I slipped away now, ( I had my own key ) I shouldn't be missed at all.  Plus, given what he told me, Eric and I should still have plenty of time to do it properly before Jack gets home, it would then be done and over with and for better or worse I would have the experience behind me.

 

So I quietly closed my bedroom door, took the garbage bin to the front gate and then just slipped away.

 

I was still nervous and it was quite a dark night, so I had another cigarette as I walked.  I knew I wasn't going to stop smoking now, but I would try to be a lot more careful in future. I was actually quite surprised that Nana had not asked me to hand what cigarettes I had, over to her and confiscated them from me all together!!

 

When I reached Eric's house I could tell immediately that he had been drinking and that made me even more nervous. But he certainly seemed pleased to see me, invited me in and we went along to his room.

 

He had a dressing gown on, but removed it as soon as he had closed his door. He had nothing on at all under it and he drew me to him and we embraced and started to kiss.  I lost track of time, but we both found ourselves on the bed totally naked and the foreplay had been erotic and magical.  I decided to forgive him for drinking and for his beer swill odor, which was the one thing I didn't like.

 

Then he had some kind of lubricant in his hands and his fingers were in my arse crease. It felt nice, but when a greased finger breached my anus and went right in I screamed, it really hurt.  He didn't take it out but, after that he seemed to be more careful, probing deeper and eventually adding further fingers. He obviously found my prostate because although none of it hurt any worse than that first invading finger, there was a mixture of serious pain, yet a pleasure I found hard to describe. I wondered if he might have been gentler without the booze.

 

Finally the fingers were gone and he told me to prepare for the main event, as he lubed up what was looking to me like the most enormous dick ever.  He told me not to allow myself to resist his invasion, but to push out hard against him. That worked but again when it first went in, the initial pain was such that I thought I was going to die or be totally torn apart and I was sure I would never fully take him.  Still he pushed forward and eventually was fully in.  Once again but on a bigger scale, there was that mixture of serious pain, yet a pleasure I found hard to describe and it remained until it was all over.

 

Once he began sliding in and out and we each got into a steady fucking rhythm, I enjoyed it more and my stimulation grew as he increased the pace, to the point where I was worried the whole bed might collapse.  It was only towards the very end that I regained some sort of erection and came, literally without even touching it, all over his bed sheets.  Eric's cum flooded my insides, big time and I felt totally exhausted by the time his cock was slipping out.

 

Then without warning, all hell broke loose as the door flew open and there stood who was obviously Jack, swaying in total inebriation.

 

He was mouthing unrepeatable oaths, using the foulest of language and he staggered into the room arms extended, aiming to smash into 2 scared shitless naked teens.

 

We had both jumped up, but Jack was big and strong and determined. I received several blows which hurt bad and I ended up on the floor, trying to back away into a corner, sobbing.  Mainly however, Jack was belting into poor Eric, who he described succinctly as a "fucking little slut faggett cunt" who needed to be taught a good lesson.  Then without preliminaries, Jacks pants were around his ankles and he was on top of Eric fucking him hard and fast and without mercy.

 

It finished as suddenly as it started.  Jack stood, still swaying dangerously and pulled up his pants. Leaving Eric laying where he was, he turned himself to me and said in a slurred and drunken tone, "Stop sniveling you little fairy, just shut your fucking face or I'll give you a bit of what he got!!"  Then he turned again and staggered from the room and down the hall.  I clearly heard the groan of the bed in his room as he presumably fell onto it.

 

Then it was quiet in Eric's room until I heard him groan and gingerly sit up and look down at me from the bed.  He was an absolute mess.

 

"Bloody alcohol" I said, "I hate it so much. I wish I could put a big bomb under every Brewery and distillery in the whole world !!"  ( and I still feel that way today – many people would just call me an old prude )

 

We spent a bit of time in the bathroom trying to clean each other up as best we could and I got dressed.  I was appalled at the extent of the bruising evidencing the bashing Eric had taken.  He told me however, that this was by no means the first bashing, or fucking he had gotten from Jack and that each one just made him more determined to move out, the sooner the better.

 

Passing Jacks bedroom headed to the front door for me to leave, the snoring was horrendous and Eric said he probably wouldn't remember a thing in the morning.  He added,  "I'm really sorry it ended like this. I'm usually still up to pour him into bed when he gets home  and when I wasn't around and he saw the closed door and probably heard the noise of the bed as we were just about climaxing, I guess he just lost it.  Please don't think too badly of me over what's happened... Incidentally" he said with a wry smile, "For what it's worth, you were fantastic, the best fuck I ever had! Not that I've had many, mind you!?!"

 

I felt that we parted good friends and I genuinely felt real sadness for Eric and his terrible life.  But, I was sure I wouldn't be going back again so doubted that I would see him again. ( and I never did. )

 

Heading back to Nanas' my thoughts turned to my own immediate problems.  The first was getting back to Nanas' with a bum so sore I could hardly walk.  Then I had to get in quietly so she wouldn't know I'd been gone and most importantly I had to come up with a reason for the bruises I couldn't expect to hide, irrespective of who asked about them.

 

I successfully managed the first 2 and was lucky enough to get off to school the next morning as I often did, before Nana was up and around to note my battered appearance.  That made my "Innocent victim in a school yard fight" story more plausible, so for then at least everything was Ok. 

 

But, I was beginning to think that things were getting a bit out of hand and I was jolted even further back to reality when I got a very poor ( at least for me ) mid-year School Report, which included full detail of and adverse comment about my most recent late attendance record. Mum and Dad were not impressed and my "depression over Phillip" excuse had only limited success.  I had to promise to pull my socks up and I knew for myself that I had to.

 

My friendship with Mike remained, but became more casual and I stopped going down to the beach. ( once I thought seriously about it, I realized that it really wasn't making me the big man I thought it was, and that none of what we did at the beach interested me greatly anyway!! )  And so, I stopped staying over regularly with Nana Tuesday nights as well.  By the end of the school year my work was back on track and thank heavens, I got a Good Final Report, which ensured that I could continue on to years 11 and 12. 

 

Mike told me that he would be trying to get an Apprenticeship. He did and seemed quite pleased with himself.  He left school at the end of that year.

 

As it turned out, becoming a smoker was the only adverse longer term effect of that somewhat difficult period in my life.