Date: Fri, 18 Nov 2016 15:07:32 +0000 (GMT)
From: "rampage938@btinternet.com" <rampage938@btinternet.com>
Subject: BOATING POOL

"Fancy a turn on the boating pool, lad?"

The teenager looked up, startled. A pleasant looking young man in Army
fatigues stood beside him, leaning over the promenade railings, a
half-smoked cigarette between his fingers. The lad had a strong urge to
turn and bolt for it. After all, he was playing hooky but the guy was not a
policeman, just a soldier, whose face had a reassuring friendly look. Brian
murmured a shy, "Yes."

The young man straightened himself and grinned. "It's OK son," he said, "I
guess you decided it was too nice a day to waste it in school, eh? I shan't
tell anyone if you don't." He laughed. His voice sounded deep, masculine,
edged with amusement. The youngster relaxed. He'd be alright with this
chap, he thought. He returned the man's cheeky, impish grin. "I don't
usually skip school like this," he said. It was true normally, but as he
waited on the platform for his train that morning, a voice inside his head
had whispered to him, urging him to cross the footbridge to the down
platform. The train to the coast would be arriving in five minutes, he
could get on it and no one would know he'd gone. He had some money in his
pocket that Dad had given him as he left for work. He'd be alright, he
could get a train home in the afternoon, wait until his usual train came
in, join the crowd leaving the station and be home at his normal time.

When he got out of the train at his destination he put his school bag in
one of the left luggage lockers at the station, stashing the locker key
safely away in his blazer inside pocket. He crossed the taxi rank outside
the station and sauntered off down the High Street, heading for the
seafront. He mingled with people scurrying to work, women out to do some
early shopping, youngsters like himself making their way to school or
college. He experienced a momentary pang of guilt, which quickly passed.
This was going to be a good day. He decided he would go and see if the
amusement park was open yet. It seemed a bit early still and the promenade
was quiet, quieter than he could remember seeing it before at this time of
the year. He turned on to the prom and slowly wandered along in the
unaccustomed calm of the morning to the Peter Pan's Playground. This was
one of his favourite spots. He took up a position along the railings from
where he could watch the men gradually getting the rides ready for the
day's business. Then, startlingly, the soldier's voice had broken into his
reverie.

"It's a bit early yet, they'll only just be getting the boats out. Fancy a
cup of tea and a bun?" The lad thought quickly. He'd have to watch his
money - he had enough to get something to eat at lunchtime, but too many
cups of tea and buns would soon deplete his resources. He decided he'd be
honest with the soldier. "I've got some money... ." He stopped,
embarrassed. His voice had not quite finished breaking yet and was swooping
up and down uncontrollably, like the squawk of a hungry seagull searching
for its breakfast on the beach below them. Charlie swallowed and tried
again. "I'll need to keep some for my lunch later on." The young man
laughed, generously. "Don't worry about it, son. Have this on me. By the
way, what do they call you? I can't keep calling you 'son', can I? I'm not
your Dad!" He threw back his head and laughed at his own joke. "My name is
Brian," the lad shyly told him.

Over their tea and sticky buns the man and youth exchanged information
about their lives and Brian said he had done well in the end of term exams
and he was hoping to get into college and eventually university where he
was planning to study for an Air Force scholarship in due course. The
soldier was impressed when Brian told him he had joined the CCF (Combined
Cadet Force) when he was fourteen and he would be going on the CCF Summer
Camp later, to be a mentor to some of the younger cadets. That revelation
seemed to completely relax Brian and he was beginning to enjoy himself. He
felt confident telling a military man his ambitions; it was as if he'd
known the soldier for a long time and he held nothing back. He also told
the man about his music studies and how he was preparing to take a very
important piano exam in the autumn. He made the man laugh when he told him
about the nuns at school - particularly the fearsome Sister Mary Frances,
his form teacher. She was a big strong woman who every morning after
Assembly strode into the classroom and exclaimed, in stentorian tones,
"Boys, hands on desks where I can see them!" He said the girls would titter
and giggle at this, until a ferocious look from the nun silenced them. In
turn, Brian learnt that the young man was serving the last couple of months
of a five year enlistment and that he was hoping to return home to a small
town somewhere 'oop North'. The soldier said he was based at the Artillery
camp further along the coast. As they strolled back along the promenade
Brian became aware of the soldier's hand occasionally lightly touching his
arm and shoulder. Being something of a shy lad, Brian would not normally
have tolerated this familiarity from a stranger but, to his amazement, he
found himself liking and even welcoming the young man's friendliness. It
was at this point that the young man began probing for more intimate
details about Brian's life.

"How old are you?" he queried.

"I had my sixteenth birthday several weeks ago," came the reply, somewhat
hesitantly.

"Hmm. That might be a problem at the boating pool. Tell you what, Brian, if
they ask how old you are, you keep quiet and I'll say you're my nephew or
something and today's your birthday. You won't mind losing a year or so,
would you?"

"N-no." The lad seemed uncertain about this.

"I bet you've got a few girl friends nicely warmed up, eh?" Brian blushed
scarlet at the sudden unexpected intimacy of the man's questioning. He
looked up at the man, who was grinning broadly but his eyes seemed to have
lost their warmth and glittered like two brilliant points of light, boring
into Brian's innermost being. Brian stopped. He had been floored by the
man's question. Where was this leading? He could not seem to turn away from
those probing eyes. What could he say? The man was obviously expecting some
kind of reply. Brian couldn't tell him - could he? - that he didn't much
care for girls, that he was happiest with and only felt comfortable in the
company of other boys and male teachers at school.

"I - I don't have a girl friend," he stuttered, feeling like a real
dipstick, a first-class prize idiot.

"Oh, c'm on, a big lad like you? I'll bet my next wage packet you've been
inside a few knickers behind the bike sheds after school?"

"No!" Brian's adolescent voice cracked, suddenly taking on an unaccustomed
masculine strength. "I haven't, I'm not interested in that sort of thing!"
There was a tension growing between them, which Brian sensed. The man
shrugged and walked on. "Sorry if I stepped on a corn," was all he said.

By now the morning had warmed up. It was definitely going to be a hot day,
as the weather forecaster on the radio had predicted. Peter Pan's
Playground was now becoming noisy with small kids and their grown-up
guardians; the jigsaw train clanked and trundled round its tortuous track;
the merry-go-round was busy, its wood and plaster horses forever galloping
in circles, never going anywhere. Brian watched them with a growing sense
of dismay. It seemed sad, suddenly, that these objects, only recently so
enticing and exciting, had become flat, dull and lifeless. He walked on
beside the soldier, his head a whirl of confusion. Why, oh why, had his new
friend spoilt everything by raising the boring subject of GIRLS? What
business was it of his, anyway? Why did he seem so interested in what the
youth did with his rapidly maturing willie? What did the man want to know?
He realised they had reached the steps down to the boating pool. There were
quite a few paddle boats out in the middle already. For the first time in
all the years he had been coming here, he wondered if he should go on with
this. It seemed childish, silly, the sort of thing that appealed to small
kids. As if he had been reading the youth's thoughts, the soldier spoke,
his warm, friendly manner of earlier resurfacing.

"Do you really want to go down there?" he asked, his hand resting gently on
the boy's shoulder. Brian felt its comradely warmth through the stuff of
his school blazer and thin summer shirt. He also felt something tingle in
the 'rude bit' of his lightweight grey flannels.

"Yeah, might as well. We needn't stay long if we don't like it."

"Good. I was wondering if you'd changed your mind after... ."

"No, no, I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting questions like that. Look,"
Brian continued, his face betraying the intensity in his voice, "I've just
messed about a few times with some of the boys at school, nothing more." He
paused, blushing furiously.

The soldier grinned his familiar friendly grin. "Right. You've had a couple
of wanks in the bogs, right? All boys together, eh?" His self-conscious
companion nodded. "It's all right, lad. We all do it when the pressure's
on. There's nothing to be ashamed of, it's all part of growing up. You'll
soon be a man and you'll find things will work out sooner than you
expect. They always do," he added quietly, as if speaking to himself.

"Do you do it with girls?" Brian could not believe he had just said that
aloud.

"Ah, well, when you've been about a bit longer, you will find there are
girls - and girls!" the young man replied, confusingly. "Come on, let's try
these boats."

The boatman eyed the lad suspiciously. Over the years he had become quite
an expert at picking out kids playing hooky. This one looked as if he might
be OK, though. "At least he has an adult with him," the man thought,
"brother or something, I s'pose." As the soldier paid for their ride he
spun a yarn to the boatman about how it was his younger brother's birthday
and he had managed to get a day's leave to spend it with him. The boatman
only half believed the story and was still unconvinced the boy was young
enough to qualify for half fare. "Seems a bit big to be a thirteen year
old," he muttered to himself, as his customers crammed themselves into the
small paddle boat.

"Look, let's try this. You put your right leg under my left one and your
right arm along the back of the boat." Brian was almost helpless with
laughter at their contortions, trying to fit in the very confined
space. "Wh-what?"" he spluttered. The soldier repeated his instructions,
carefully bending his left knee to allow the lad to slide his right leg
underneath. "I hope if anyone sees us," said the soldier, "they don't get
the wrong idea!"

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, innocently.

"Well, some nosey parker might think I was trying to get inside your
trousers." Brian sat still as unbidden came a thought, crashing into his
brain. "Oh, why don't you?"

Suddenly Brian became aware of the soldier's warm hand resting carelessly
on his thigh. Another tingle ran up his leg and lodged itself somewhere in
the fork of his body, where his willie hung down. Except his willie was not
hanging now, it was swelling, growing in length and girth. He could feel
his balls tightening. The man's fingers gently caressed the inside of his
thigh. He felt himself slide across the wooden seat to be closer to the
man. The tiny boat lurched a little as he moved and he put out a hand to
steady himself. It came to rest on the muscular uniform covered thigh
beside him. He was a little startled at how hard and manly it felt. The man
beside him gave a little whimper when he felt the young hand on his
leg. The teenager wanted the man, in return, to fondle him, right between
his legs. Surely the man must be aware of how turned on he was? Almost
accidentally, the man's hand brushed against the youth's trousers, just
where his willie was pulsatingly hard. Brian's breath came in shallow,
gasping bursts, trying to swallow air, attempting to control the juddering
in his burning groin.

"Come in, thirty-six, time's up!" The boatman's amplified voice boomed
across the pool, blasting into the lad's head. Brian gasped,
shuddering. The soldier looked at him and said, his voice low and soft,
"Let's go eat, eh?"

"Yeah, OK." Brian realised he was very hungry indeed.

* * * * *

They sat side by side in a small seafront café, eating fish and
chips. Conversation was desultory but Brian felt at ease; his new friend
had not made any further mention of girls. He thought, "So what if the man
had fondled my thigh in the boat? I'd enjoyed it and I'm sure he hadn't
noticed my cock getting hard and pushing against my trousers."  It suddenly
struck Brian that he was thinking of it as his 'cock', no longer as a
childish 'willie'. Nevertheless, could he be sure that the soldier had not
noticed anything?

Their renewed intimacy had subtly altered. As he ate his meal, Brian could
feel the warmth of the man's leg through his thin grey trousers. He could
not be certain but wasn't the man's knee gently, almost caressingly,
flexing and relaxing against his thigh? The soldier's leg paused in its
motion, almost as if the man was waiting for Brian to respond. Tentatively
the lad answered the man's silent question by slowly, hesitantly, pressing
his knee into the man's leg. He could almost feel the rough khaki serge of
the uniform scratching his skin. He glanced up quickly. The soldier had
finished eating and was smoking a cigarette. A frisson of something - fear?
excitement? anticipation? - passed through the young body. The man's
expression had changed. His eyes, narrowed against the stinging cigarette
smoke, were fixed on the youth's swelling crotch. The man spoke, his voice
suddenly deeper and huskier.

"What would you like to do, now?"

"I'm not sure." Brian paused for thought. He felt slightly embarrassed that
the man had clearly seen what was going on inside his trousers. "There's a
good film on at the Rivoli," was all he could find to say.

"What is it?"

"The African Queen. You know, that new one with Humphrey Bogart and
Katharine Hepburn. Everyone's talking about it," he added, lamely. The man
gazed at him for a moment, then stubbed his cigarette out in the flimsy
ashtray. "OK, let's go see it. If we're quick we'll just make the early
show." They stood up and moved into the aisle between the tables. Brian's
incipient erection had quickly subsided, leaving him with a faintly
nauseous feeling in the depths of his stomach. The soldier half turned to
face the blowsy, middle aged woman behind the counter. "Thanks," was all he
said as he tendered the money. The hot, weary woman turned on him a
distorted half-smile, which seemed to say, "I know what you're doing,
matey. Just make sure you don't get caught with the boy's pants down!"
Looking straight at Brian she said, not unkindly, "Goin' dahn the pier,
then?"

"Later, Mebbe," the soldier said, curtly. "'Bye." He and his young
companion left the café quickly, scurrying round the corner and up the
street to the cinema a few yards away. He paid for their seats and as they
climbed the thickly carpeted stairs, he leant forward and whispered in
Brian's ear. "When we get inside, sit in the second row from the back, well
in from the gangway. It's darker there. And take your blazer off and put it
over your lap." Brian smiled to himself. The secret voice that had urged
him to experiment with Dan and Jonathan at school was back, telling him to
let the soldier show him some new things to do with his cock. He felt a
galvanising thrill surge through his body. He knew it would be hazardous
for his friend if they were caught, but he didn't care. "Yes," he thought,
"it's going to be warm in here today. I'll be better off without this
jacket on."

As they entered the semi-darkness of the auditorium they saw that the
screen adverts were still showing. An usherette checked their tickets and
tried to conduct them to seats near the front but the soldier firmly guided
Brian into the desired row of seats. Being so early in the afternoon there
were few patrons in the cinema. Most of them were elderly women,
pensioners, scattered around in ones and twos. As Brian and his companion
sat down, the house lights dimmed and the sat through the newsreel,
impatiently waiting for the main feature to start. Brian noticed that the
soldier had removed his battledress jacket and had folded it across his
knees. He had also taken off his beret, which he placed on top of his
folded uniform. Brian's blazer lay across his lap, as instructed; he
quietly put a hand underneath it, found the zip and slowly pulled it
down. As the fly of his trousers parted the curtains shrouding the screen
also parted and the film began. Brian soon became absorbed in the film. He
had always had a vivid imagination and the opening sequences while the
titles were rolling depicted the African jungle, accompanied by the cries
and screeches unseen, unknown birds and animals issuing from the hidden
loudspeakers that soon worked their magic on him.

Brian forgot he was in a foetid, over-warm cinema. He was there, beside
Charlie and Rose, sweating, cursing, getting drunk as they fought to keep
Charlie's ancient, decrepit steamer The African Queen from foundering,
keeping her on course down the turgid river and through raging cataracts
that threatened to capsize the boat and throw them into the stormy water at
any moment. Brian could almost feel the stinging, fiery attacks of the
myriad gnats and mosquitoes. He had not forgotten his new friend sitting
beside him, it was simply that he was gripped by the fantasy unfolding in
front of him. It was at a point in the film where the steamer has somehow
survived the journey down the river and is drifting helplessly through an
endless swampy delta that Brian first became aware of the man's hand. At
some point while Brian was lost in Africa, the soldier had reached beneath
his blazer spread across his legs. The man's fingers were gently stroking
Brian's cock through the thin stuff of his trousers and had brought him to
a full throbbing erection. The man's fingers were probing more
urgently. Brian glanced across at him but the man was gazing straight in
front of him, eyes fixed on the screen.

Brian now felt the soldier's fingers expertly seeking his already open
fly. He reached inside and slowly pulled Brian's achingly hard cock through
the opening in his underpants. The man's thumb gently brushed across the
very tip of the swollen, adolescent cock head, causing it to jerk slightly
and leak a drop of clear oily liquid, which he proceeded to gently spread
around. The youth gasped with the force of the extraordinary sensations
flowing through him. He leant his head back against the seat, eyes closed,
as the man next to him folded his hand around the burning teenage
cock. Brian moved down lower in his seat to enable the soldier to explore
further. His young balls were being gently cupped and squeezed in the palm
of the man's hand. He extended his forefinger, manoeuvring to find the
secret, hidden part of Brian's body, his perineum, which would lead the man
to Brian's virginal anus, but he could not quite reach that most intimate
of entrances. Suddenly moving in his seat, the man brought himself closer
to the horny youth. "Do the same to me," came a hoarse low whisper. Brian's
eyes snapped open. The film was still playing, moving towards its
climax. Brian's hand slid under the Army jacket covering the man's lap,
over the hard, muscled upper thigh, the rough material of the uniform
trousers tickling his palm. Brian's eager young fingers seemed to know
instinctively where to aim. He felt the warmth of the man's crotch, then
the bulge in his clothing. Brian took a sharp intake of breath as his
eagerly exploring fingers felt the hardness of a male erection. Somehow, he
had not expected it to be so - huge. He had never before seen or felt a
grown man's fully aroused manhood. The young fingers grappled with the
buttons of the man's trousers but the weight of the serge and rigidity of
the buttons defeated him. The soldier removed his hand from its lascivious
exploration of the youth, quickly unbuttoned his own trousers and returned
his hand to its insatiably lecherous activity. Slender, still boyish
fingers, hesitant at first, held the rigid male organ close to its
base. Slowly, they plucked up courage and began to explore, feeling the
warm, mildly sweaty prickle of the man's pubic hair. As the fingers
entwined themselves deeper into the thick, wiry bush surrounding the man's
cock, Brian felt his own insignificant, newly sprung growth of soft, blond
hair being gently, insistently, stroked. Suddenly Brian thought, "What if
the usherette's noticed something? What if she comes swinging down the
aisle, flashing her torch to find out what's going on?"  He raised himself
slightly in his seat and quickly glanced round over his shoulder. He need
not have worried, there was no sign of the usherette. He slid back down
into his seat; with renewed courage and curiosity, his hand resumed its
detailed study of the soldier's sexual anatomy.

For no good reason he could afterwards come up with, he remembered
something he had heard a couple of the older boys at school talking
about. It had been after school, in the bogs. Brian had locked himself in
one of the cubicles to have a quick jerk off, when he heard the voices.

"Ever had yer cock sucked?" queried one of the voices.

"Nah, wot's it like, then?"

"Not as good as a proper fuck, but better'n tossin' yerself orf," came the
reply.

A devilish, wicked idea came into Brian's head. Just suppose he pretended
to drop something... . He pushed himself upright in his seat, cursing
quietly under his breath but loud enough for the soldier to hear.

"What's up? You're not cumming, are you?" he whispered urgently.

"No, no. Something's just fallen out of my jacket pocket, I think," Brian
murmured back.

He slid down off his seat, crouching beside the soldier's legs. Gently
lifting the Army jacket over his head he was instantly engulfed in the
warm, musky odour of the soldier's crotch. He grasped the pulsating man rod
and slowly moved towards it. He felt the hard, warm flesh against his
cheek, the pubic hair tickling his upper lip. Slowly, gently, not knowing
what it would taste like, afraid of hurting the soldier, Brian opened his
lips a little. He moved up the solid shaft, the tip of his tongue
protruding from parted teeth. He felt the man's belly tremble slightly,
heard him utter a soft moan. As Brian reached the soldier's cock head he
opened his mouth wider, his tongue probing the cock slit, tasting for the
first time the sweet saltiness of a man's oozing lube. "Oh, God!" he heard
the soldier groan as he grasped the back of Brian's neck, pulling him
away. "Not now, friend, not now. Don't waste it now. Save it for me,
later." Brian slid quickly back into his seat. The film was almost
over. Somehow, he managed to stuff his rigid cock back into his underpants,
tried to do up the zip of his fly quickly, fingers shaking with lust. He
managed it just as the film ended and the house lights came up.

"You OK?" the soldier asked, looking at Brian intently.

"Yes, thanks. Did you like it?" Brian meant the film, of course, but his
new friend grinned wickedly as he replied.

"Oh, yeah, the film was good - but you were better. You're a quick
learner!" The auditorium lights had come up, their rosy glow highlighting
Brian's blushes. "C'mon," said the soldier, "we'll go on the pier. I know a
nice quiet spot down there where nobody ever goes, where we can have some
fun!" They were walking slowly up the aisle towards the exit. Brian still
had a raging erection and was holding his blazer in front of himself in an
attempt to hide the give-away bulge in his trousers. He stopped and placed
a hand on the soldier's arm. "Do you know what I really want?" he enquired
quietly, his voice steady, no longer cracking like a demented crow. "I'd
like you to do it to me, give me everything." There was a pause, then he
added, slowly and deliberately. "I want you to fuck me."

The soldier said nothing, remaining silent until they reached the
vestibule. All the other patrons had gone, they were quite alone. Brian was
worried: had he offended the guy in some way? His friend turned to face
him. All trace of his wonderful grin had vanished, he looked stern,
intensely serious. He took both Brian's shoulders in his firm hands,
gripping them hard and looking deep into the lad's eyes.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me." Brian spoke quietly but determinedly, in his
newly acquired light baritone.

"Have you done it before?" The soldier was still holding on to him, as if
to steady himself rather than support the young lad.

"No, but I want you to do it to me. I want you to be the first."

* * * * *

The resort was renowned all over the country for having the longest pier,
almost a third of a mile long, firmly embedded in the dirty, muddy waters
of the wide estuary. It was possible to walk the entire length, if you had
the time and energy, but Brian and the soldier were anxious to reach the
far end as soon as they could. They climbed aboard the small electric train
that trundled back and forth, all day long and most of the evening as
well. They were lucky and found an empty car, where they could talk out of
earshot of other people. After some minutes of silence, the soldier spoke
quietly.

"Look, Brian, when we get to the other end of the pier, just follow me." He
paused. It was the first time he had used Brian's name. He was looking at
him intently. "You sure you want to go on with this?" His voice was gentle,
sympathetic. "You realise it will probably hurt a bit at first?"

Brian rested his head on the khaki shoulder beside him. "I - I'll have to
trust you," he murmured, "we're friends, right?" He lifted his head,
looking straight at the soldier, a little smile playing around the corners
of his mouth. "Besides, I'm not a kid any more!" No, thought the soldier,
you're not. Don't regret this, lad. Aloud he said, "Don't worry. I'll try
to make it as good for you as I can. Promise me one thing, though," he went
on, leaning over Brian almost paternally, "tell me if it hurts too much, if
you can't take any more. Promise me?" Brian nodded, dumbly.

For the first time, he began to feel just a little scared. What had he let
himself in for? He had no idea what would happen when the man... He
recalled the boys in his class wondering sometimes how a girl felt with a
hard dick inside her for the first time. The oldest boy in the class had
told them his newly married sister had said it was 'bloody painful' at
first (although she had used a less than ladylike adjective to her
brother!) Gears ground in Brian's head as his brain tried to engage other
thoughts but he kept coming back to the idea of pain. Could he get out of
this now? Would the soldier understand? But he himself had told the guy he
wanted it! He'd left no doubt about it. He'd promised - sort of. Dad had
always drummed it into him that a man never promised anything he couldn't
do and once a promise was given, it had to be kept.

The Toytown train had stopped. They had arrived at the end of their
journey. The soldier stood up, one hand holding Brian's arm, gripping
tightly as if he was afraid Brian was going to make a last minute bolt for
it. "C'm on!" The man's voice sounded harsh, military, commanding and
giving orders. "This way." He dragged Brian towards some steep, decaying
wooden steps, which seemed to go down forever, deep into the muddy water
swirling far below them, making sinister sucking noises as it lapped around
the heavy wooden stanchions supporting the pier structure. The wood looked
old and tired. Brian could just make out, further down, fronds of livid
green weed clinging to the timbers. The soldier led the way as they
descended the steps. About half way down, he stopped. Over his shoulder he
said, "Not a sound, now. There's nobody down here. If you want to back out,
go now." He waited. Brian stood still, his heart pounding in his
chest. Suddenly, he found it difficult to breathe.

"Over here, there's a platform of some kind." The soldier moved off the
steps, climbing over the rickety, half-rotten rail, on to the remains of
the wooden floor of what had once been a loading quay. The timbers were
very old, very thick, and gave out a strange smell, a compound of decaying
seaweed, rotting rope, old creosote and other miscellaneous, best left
unidentified marine debris. The soldier extended his hand, catching hold of
Brian's lower arm, helping him to clamber over the stair railing and stand
beside him. "Over there," said the soldier, pointing vaguely into the dim
twilight. The platform on which they stood ran under the upper part of the
pier, the only light filtering through cracks in the overhead planking and
through the open sides. Brian looked down, briefly, and glimpsed the
swirling, grey-brown water beneath his feet. All sound had ceased, not even
the cry of a lone seagull reached their ears. They were lost in an
in-between world, just the two of them. This was it! Here in this odorous
gloomy underworld which he had never known existed, he was going to let
this man do things to his body which no-one had ever done before. He felt
his fears subsiding, to be replaced by rising excitement. No, he could
never tell anyone - Mum, Dad, his brother, friends at school - but he was
standing on the threshold of that adult world he'd been longing to
join. All he had to do was to cross over and pass through this open door.

Feverishly he pulled off his blazer, tossing it on to the wooden floor
beside him. He tore at his tie, dropping it on to his blazer. He ripped at
his shirt buttons - one flew off and rolled away, disappearing through a
crack into the waters below. "Hey, easy does it!" the soldier chuckled
quietly. "We've got time, just slow down and you'll enjoy it better." As he
spoke he slowly, almost tenderly, helped Brian to remove his shirt. "My
turn, now," he said. He removed his khaki uniform jacket, tie and shirt
calmly, as if he was undressing at the end of the day, preparing for
bed. They stood still, looking at each other's naked torsos. Brian was
mildly surprised to see that the man's chest was hairless, save for a thin
line of dark hairs, starting from just above his sternum and disappearing
into the waistband of his trousers. The man's chest looked strong, firm,
the nipples standing proud. Brian reached outwards and upwards with a
shaking hand, to feel the man's body. He gently stroked the man's breast,
his fingers lingering over the hard nipples. He found them fascinating. The
soldier sighed. "You sure you haven't done this before?" Brian shook his
head, continuing his exploration, now using both hands. The man put his
arms around the boy, pulling him in close, his strong hands slowly
massaging the naked young back. Brian let out a little whimpering
groan. "Ooh! That feels so good!" His head reached upwards, his mouth
brushing one of the soldier's hard nipples. Brian parted his lips, teeth
gently probing, tongue flicking around the tip. He was hard himself, lower
down. He was as hard as a stick of seaside rock!

The soldier slipped his hands down to Brian's waist, his fingers gently
pressing into the top of the firm, youthful buttocks. He lowered his head,
planting warm kisses on Brian's upturned brow, eyes and temples. He took a
step backwards, releasing Brian from his embrace. He unbuckled the belt
holding up his uniform trousers. Brian followed suit, undoing the S-clasp
of his belt and unclipping the waistband of his thin grey trousers, which
parted to reveal the elastic of his Y-fronts and his smooth lower belly. He
watched his companion undo the complicated fastening of his uniform, then
the fly buttons, one by one, slowly, tantalisingly. He was about to undo
his own fly when the soldier stopped him. "Let me do that, please!" He
crouched down, squatting on his haunches, his hands busy with Brian's
fly. Very slowly, he dragged the thin trousers down around Brian's ankles,
the front of his underpants bulging and quivering under the strain and
pressure of his adolescent erection. The soldier leant forward and took
Brian into his mouth. He sucked gently, his mouth moving along the length
of the shrouded, throbbing shaft still hidden from him. Brian's head
snapped back, his eyes closed. Never, never had he felt anything like this!
Slowly, the soldier hooked his fingers into the waistband of Brian's pants,
sliding them down over his boyish buttocks, releasing the pubescent cock
from its imprisonment. The soldier gazed in wonder. He had totally
forgotten that an adolescent penis could seem larger, denser, than anyone
would expect it to be. He'd forgotten the effect of contrast between a
rapidly maturing penis and its surrounding, still boyish, body. He had not
expected to see a man-size cock thrusting from a still boy-size
body. Nothing had prepared him for the sight of that engorged erection,
surrounded by a light growth of soft, downy pubic hair, crowned with a
shining purplish head already oozing the clear, sticky fluid preparing the
male organ for sexual activity. He stood up and quickly pulled down his own
lower garments. Brian stared at the man's erection, the thick, wiry pubic
hair, the two heavy orbs encased in their sac and swinging between the
soldier's strong legs. Letting out a stifled moan, he fell to his knees on
the filthy wooden timber and took the entire length of the man's cock into
his mouth and down his throat, in one graceful movement of pure lust. For
one awful moment, Brian thought he was going to vomit but he fought the
sensation of nausea, calming his heaving, rebellious
stomach. Instinctively, the muscles of his throat contracted, striving to
swallow this unaccustomed large mouthful. Brian slid one hand found behind
the soldier, his slender, boyish fingers digging into the hard muscular
buttock flesh. His other hand encircled the man's balls caressing,
squeezing, rolling and fondling, while his mouth and throat worked
feverishly, hysterically, on the male rod they had captured. Breathing
noisily through his nose, every breath carried the soldier's man-smell into
his brain. He was in ecstasy, drugged by the masculine odours he was
inhaling, intoxicated by the taste of the man who was groaning with
pleasure, writhing in sweet torment as Brian did unfathomable things to
him.

He put a hand behind Brian's head, pulling him in closer still. His hips
started a rhythmical, swinging movement, thrusting his rigid, throbbing
weapon deeper into the liquid warmth of the Brian's throat. His balls
churned, aching for that wide, jerking spasm of release. He was aware that
his climax could not be far away. He seized hold of the short hair at the
back of Brian's head, pulling him away, forcing the young mouth to release
his cock. "Stand up!" commanded the military man, "bend over and grab hold
of your ankles. This is it, lad, what you wanted!" Brian scrambled to his
feet, gasping for air. He swivelled round, bending over as he had been
instructed. A hand, which he vaguely realised was his own, grasped his
aching cock, pumping hard, up and down, up and down. "Stop that!" came the
harsh commanding voice. His hand flew away, clamping on to his unoccupied
ankle. He could feel the soldier's fingers urgently, roughly, exploring his
arse crack, seeking for the hidden entrance to his hitherto unplumbed
love-hole. Without warning the probe found its target. At first, it simply
played around the edges, the hole remaining intact and firmly locked. Brian
squealed, wriggling with delight as magical sensations flooded his
brain. The probing finger pushed relentlessly until the barrier gave up the
struggle. A strange grunt came from the soldier as his finger moved into
moist, warm darkness. Brian shivered. He could take a finger, possibly two,
but a large, rock hard cock? The invading finger withdrew, to be followed
by... nothing. There was a brief pause, then Brian felt the sticky dampness
of an inflamed, swollen cock head pressing urgently against his anus,
probing, straining and pushing. Once more, his defences gave way and the
soldier surged into him, bringing with him legions of agony and pain such
as Brian had never known before. The youth staggered forward, crying out in
his torment. He would not have cared if the rotten wooden railing in front
of him had given way and he had gone spinning, tumbling, whirling headfirst
into the eddies of murky water below him. The soldier paused, to give Brian
time to adjust. His rampant cock was rammed into the virginal arse as far
as it could go. The man felt his own rough pubic hair scratching against
Brian's tender buttocks. His cock desperately needed to fuck, to fuck hard
and fast. The soldier somehow managed to restrain his lust, knowing of
Brian's need to recover. "Relax, son," he murmured in the youth's ear,
"lean back against me. Feel me inside you, warm and hard and strong,
comforting and protective."

Slowly straightening himself, Brian leant back against the soldier's broad
chest. He closed his eyes and felt muscles inside his lower body striving
to adjust to the lewd invader. He took a couple of deep breaths and
gradually relaxed. He opened his eyes, which stung with the sweat dripping
from his forehead. He could not see properly, everything seemed to be out
of focus, swimming in a misty haze. So this was what it felt like. Very
slowly, he put his arms behind him, his boyish fingers grasping the man's
buttocks and striving to pull him deeper into his gut. The soldier
responded by pushing himself a little further up Brian's rectum. The man
was throbbing, pulsating with lust and desire. Brian felt the man's cock
jerking against the walls of his tube. God, how he need this man to fuck
him out of his mind! He knew it would hurt, he knew he would be leaving his
boyhood behind, but he did not care. All he wanted was for the man to fuck
him - hard. "Oh, do it to me now!" he murmured, pressing backwards to force
more of the man further into himself. The soldier needed no further
encouragement. OK, so the kid wanted it, did he? He was going to get it -
and how!

"Bend over again," he said softly into Brian's ear. The slender body
obeyed. The soldier's hard hands gripped Brian either side of his hips as
the man withdrew his dick but only as far as the ridge of his corona. He
pushed it forward again, making Brian wince and draw in another sharp
breath. This time, however, the soldier did not stop. He continued his back
and forth movement, his cock responding to the age old, familiar
rhythm. The man picked up speed. He could no longer contain his lust. He no
longer cared whether he hurt Brian or not, lechery was taking over. This
was going to be good, one of the best fucks he had had for weeks. It was
going to be close to rape. He was slamming home now, going as deep as he
could, withdrawing almost completely. His tempo accelerated; Brian rocked
back and forth, his head moving in time to the soldier's thrusts. Deep,
grunting sounds came from the man's throat. Brian made no sound but his
lips were parted, his teeth visible in an animalistic snarl of salacious
pleasure. The young cock was rigid, reddish purple, its crown swollen and
bathed in clear, sticky pre-ejaculation liquid. Harder, faster. Brian
vaguely felt something damp and wet, running down his thigh. He could not
know at that moment it was his body lubricating the man's thrusting,
spearing rod. Brian felt a churning in his balls as they tightened in their
sac; he could also sense the rising of his seed. It would not be long
before he would have to discharge his load. He strove to control himself,
desperately wanting to cum when the man did.

Without warning, the soldier let out a roar like the Bull of Bashan. He
pounded, thrashed, thrust harder and faster than ever. Brian knew
instinctively that the man was about to ejaculate. He let his own control
go as the man reached his climax. His hot, thick semen spurted from his
cock, crashing against the interior of Brian's love tube. As he felt the
man's ejaculation flooding his insides, he thrust his pelvis forward, his
bursting cock reaching outwards and upwards. His own jism exploded from his
body in a blaze of pearly white fire. He writhed and torqued on the end of
the man's vibrating cock, as if he were a huge fish on the end of a
line. He groaned, yelled, squealed as his body sent forth its seed as if to
populate other worlds. The soldier collapsed over him, spent. He was purged
of all lust, all carnality. He was panting, hoarsely, as if he had just run
a long, hard marathon. Brian's knees were giving way, he braced himself
against the soldier. He felt exhausted. For the first time, Brian was
experiencing that 'little death' men always feel when they have slaked
their desire. Slowly, the boy recovered himself. He could feel the man's
erection subsiding, deflating inside him, then withdrawing and removing
itself from his body. He groaned, softly. His first fuck was over. He would
never feel this way again, even if he had a fuck every day from now on
until the end of his life. He stood upright, moving away from the man,
pulling his underpants up to hide his own deflating manhood. He looked over
at his seducer. He was dressing himself, quite casually, as if nothing
momentous had occurred. Their eyes met and Brian shuddered. The man was
looking at him without feeling, without warmth.

"Had enough, kid?" The voice was cold, dispassionate and unfriendly. "C'm
on, get your clothes on. We've got to get you back to the station for your
train." He reached out a hand and tousled Brian's damp sweaty hair. Brian
hated him for that.

"W-was it good for you?" Brian was frantically endeavouring to restore
their former friendliness.

"Yeah, the best fuck I've had for ages. You've got a good, tight arse
there, son, use it!"

Brian could not believe how cold and selfish the man had become. Brian
wanted to be taken into those strong arms, held close to that broad chest
and soothed, comforted. Instead, the soldier coldly said, "Oh, for fuck's
sake, get a move on! It's over, boy. You'll get over it. Bet you'll be
horny again by the time you get home!" Brian stifled a sob, choked back a
tear and dressed as quickly as he could.

He sat in the railway carriage as the train rocked and rattled its way
towards his home town. He gazed out of the window as the dreary mudflats of
the narrowing river estuary sped by, followed by the fields as the train
turned inland. He was trying to remember every moment of his day with the
soldier. The boating pool, the café where they had had fish and chips,
the cinema and the moment when he had taken a man into his mouth for the
first time and, above all, the pier and the loss of his virginity and
discovery of incipient adulthood. Even as he thought of it, he could feel a
phantom cock sliding into his anus. He squirmed on the seat. The soldier
had been right - he was feeling horny again. His cock was straining against
his pants once more, demanding release. His hand began stroking the bulge
in his trousers. The train stopped at a station and he gazed out of the
window, watching people boarding and leaving the train. The door of his
compartment flew open and an elderly man clambered in. He took a seat in
the corner diagonally opposite Brian.

As the train moved off, the boy resumed his reverie, forgetting the old man
in the far corner. His hand renewed its gently fondling of his bulging
fly. A hoarse, disapproving cough broke through his daydreams. He looked
round. The old man was glaring at him disgustedly and was about to speak to
him when the train slowed down as it approached Brian's destination. He
stood up, turning away from the other passenger. The train stopped and he
opened the carriage door. An impulse made him turn round, grinning wickedly
at the old man, displaying his bulging trousers to the man's full gaze.
"Yeah, I had my virginity taken today and get myself a good fucking into
the bargain!" he yelled. Laughing, he jumped down on to the platform,
slammed the door behind him. He ran up the platform, out of the station and
down the road to home, his tea and the rest of his life.

Laurie Page, November 2016