Let us all solemnly disclaim! We already did? Well that’s that then!
Nnow that I’ve settled into writing about Jim Cooper and his escapades, I’m enjoying it much more, so I’ve stopped worrying about getting ‘A Sporting Chance’ finished and moving on to the final story in the series. I’m just going with the flow; I’ll get to the ending when I get there.
Thanks for the feedback, which is some of the most positive I’ve ever received. More is still welcome, of course! Please send your comments to email@example.com and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
‘A SPORTING CHANCE’ – PART SIX
“I guess I’m not going to be in the team again after yesterday’s performance,” William offered as they lay snuggled up on Jim’s bed. “I know I haven’t played well enough.”
“No, I’m afraid not,” Jim said. “For one thing you looked really upset after the match.”
“I was,” William admitted. “I hate letting people down.”
“Yes, I realise that,” Jim said, stroking the boy’s smooth blond hair. “Rugby’s not your sport; it’s not fair to put you under that sort of pressure. I’m pleased to say Jeremy understands that now; he had a word with me when we got back.”
“Thanks sir,” William said, looking relieved.
“I can also tell you that I’ve arranged with the caretaker to have the high jump landing area set up in the gym so you’ll be able to practise right through the winter. It seems silly for the governors to spend all that money if we’re only going to use it for three months each year.”
“Thanks,” William responded, smiling. “That’ll be great.”
They lay there without speaking for what seemed like ages.
“Are you okay?” Jim enquired. “You seem very tense; what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know how to say this,” William said, looking uncomfortable. “Toby knows I’m going with you and Jeremy. Nobody said anything; he just sort of worked it out, you know what he’s like.”
“Worked it out?” Jim queried. “How did he manage that?”
“Well, after the first training session we all had a shower. When I was getting dry I must have bent down right in front of him; I didn’t even realise I’d done it. Anyway, he noticed, er . . . , you know.”
“Fair enough,” Jim said gently. “But that could have been anybody.”
“Yeah, but when we came back into the changing room after the first trial, Jeremy was really nice to me, telling me how well I’d done. You were too. Jeremy’s not usually like that, especially not to boys in our year. Toby just put two and two together. He said he only asked me about it because he was worried you were making me do it. I told him you weren’t so everything’s cool.”
“Why on earth should he think that?” Jim asked, looking at William incredulously.
“Toby made me promise not to tell anyone,” William said, almost in tears. “He’d kill me if he found out I’d said anything; well, not kill me exactly but he’d be very angry.”
“Anyone probably doesn’t include me,” Jim said, trying to sound gentle and firm at the same time. “And in any case, he’s not going to find out you’ve told me, so come on; I need to know.”
“You remember Mr. Atkinson?” William asked nervously.
“Yes,” Jim said, dreading what he was going to hear next.
Over the following five minutes, William relayed everything that Toby had told him about what had happened with him, Mr. Atkinson and Alex.
“So that’s why he left in such a hurry!” Jim exploded. “I knew he wasn’t right!”
“You’re not going to tell anyone, are you sir?” William asked nervously.
“I’ll have to tell Mr. Halford,” Jim said gently. “We need to make sure that Mr. Atkinson can’t get a job in another school and do that to some other boys. Don’t worry; Toby won’t find out. You do understand, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” William said quietly. “I think so.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
John Halford listened in stony silence as Jim carefully repeated everything that William had told him.
“What puzzles me is how he got a key to the trunk store,” Jim concluded.
“Oh, I know how he did that,” John said angrily. “You remember the time two years ago when we’d been back at school for about two hours and Oliver Jameson’s appendix burst? I was running round looking after him, arranging to get him taken to hospital and so on. Atkinson asked if he could be of any assistance, suggested he could supervise the boys putting their trunks away, so I gave him the key. He didn’t give it back for a couple of days, but you know what it’s like at the beginning of the school year; I never thought anything of it. The bastard must have had a copy made.”
“Oh,” Jim said. “So what happens now?”
“I’ll have a word with Alex,” John said, still seething. “Get him to confirm it all, not that I doubt it for a moment; Toby can be a bloody nuisance at times but he’s not a liar. In any case it makes a lot more sense than the cock and bull story Atkinson gave us.” He paused for a moment, looking straight at Jim. “You’re wondering why I’m so angry,” he continued. “I pride myself on knowing what goes on in this place; I do not like being taken for an idiot. Anyway, once I’ve checked things with Alex, I’ll let Gordon know; he’ll put the message round, make sure Atkinson can’t get a job anywhere else.”
“Apparently William was told all this in confidence,” Jim said quietly. “He’s very concerned about Toby finding out.”
“He won’t,” John replied emphatically. “Leave it to me; it’ll all be done very discreetly.” He exhaled sharply. “I guess we should be thankful for small mercies. You know what Toby’s like; if Atkinson had called his bluff, he’d have carried out his threat. The school would have been finished and we’d have all been out of a job.”
“Why d’you think Toby didn’t come to you?” Jim queried.
“Toby and I have had a pretty difficult relationship over the years,” John said. “I’ve had to discipline him more times than I’d care to count; I guess that’s the main reason. But he got rid of the bastard; I’ve got to give him that, not bad for an eleven year old.”
Jim excused himself and made his way back to the gym. He considered whether he ought to tell Richard Burman, but decided he shouldn’t. He’d given the information to the people who needed it; Richard wasn’t one of them.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Third year gym class had just finished. Jim stood surveying his young charges as they showered and dressed. Although these soon-to-be-eleven year olds had yet to reach the full flowering of their pubescent beauty, there were some delightful specimens on view.
Darren Proctor was at the top of the pile, slim but strong; pale blue eyes and a dusting of freckles over his nose, his short blond hair and well-defined features fitting perfectly with his status as a promising rugby player who was expected to make the school team the following season. Such appearances, however, were far from the whole story; since the first week of term Darren had been the younger friend of fly-half Julian Lees, the evidence of their union readily apparent.
Next in line was new boy Patrick Naylor, a slender lad with collar-length, ash-blond hair, twinkling blue eyes and a quite beautiful smile; he was both boyish and pretty, a combination that Jim found almost irresistible. Patrick turned away from him, bending down to slip on his underpants. The boy’s anus was clearly visible which it certainly hadn’t been a week earlier. Jim’s pulse quickened; had Patrick been de-flowered, he wondered; that was certainly the way it appeared.
Simon Whitney emerged from the shower; cute and sexy, there was no other way to describe him. He was fully erect. There wasn’t anything unusual about that; it seemed to happen every time. The boy grinned knowingly at Jim, licking his lips. Jim was sorely tempted; for all his devotion to William, a little dalliance with Simon would be a more than welcome diversion. William could hardly object; not only was ‘his boy’ having sex with Jeremy, Jim had a strong suspicion that he was sharing his bed with Toby as well.
Simon turned around, reaching down to dry his feet. His sphincter twitched provocatively; it was perfectly obvious what he wanted. Simon had yet to find an older friend this term; cute as he was, the fact that he’d been Tim’s younger friend the previous year counted against him. Jim checked himself; in a few minutes the bell would sound for the start of the lunch break, but doing anything at that point would be far too hazardous. Simon was part of a little gang; Simon, Patrick, Lee Sheldon and Deon Hayes were pretty well inseparable. If he took Simon into his office when the class finished, his friends would start asking questions, and that would never do.
Simon took his time getting dressed, seeming somehow to mislay things then having to turn out his sports bag in order to find them. The lunch bell sounded. His three friends were ready to go; he wasn’t.
“You carry on,” he said brightly. “I’ll catch you up.”
The other boys made their way out. Simon waited until they’d all gone before calmly standing up, the hard bulge in the front of his shorts very much in evidence. He smiled at Jim, who was standing outside his office.
“Not now,” Jim said firmly. “Your friends will wonder what’s taken you so long. Tomorrow morning, get up as soon as the bell goes, a little earlier if possible. As soon as you’re showered and dressed, come down here; I want you here by ten past seven. And no telling your friends about it, understand?”
“Perfectly, sir!” Simon said, giving Jim a beautiful smile.
Jim stood and watched as the boy disappeared through the changing room door.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim sat in his office reading The Times. He checked his watch; it was five past seven. He went back to his newspaper. A few minutes later there was a light tap on the door. He opened it to find Simon standing there, smiling.
“Well done,” Jim said, strolling past to lock the changing room door. “And you haven’t said anything to your friends?”
“No sir, of course not,” Simon said firmly.
“And no telling them about it afterwards,” Jim said, looking the boy right in the eye.
“Sir, Simon said, looking offended. “I said I wouldn’t and I won’t.”
“Sorry,” Jim said, giving the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “I just need to be sure. You know what Lee’s like; any hint of something going on and he’ll want to know all about it.”
“Oh, don’t worry sir,” Simon said brightly. “If they ask me where I’ve been, I’ll say I had a bad tummy; I’ve been sitting on the loo.”
“Excellent!” Jim said, closing the office door and resuming his seat. “So you’ve not found an older friend yet?”
“No sir,” Simon responded.
“You will,” Jim said reassuringly, running his hand up the inside of Simon’s thigh. “It’s still early days yet. So I guess you won’t have done anything since Tim left.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that, sir,” Simon said, stifling a giggle.
“Really?” Jim said, smiling back. “Sounds interesting!”
“Well sir,” Simon said. “Mum and dad sent me to this children’s holiday centre for three weeks. I tried to hang out with some of the older boys, but they had different activities so it was hard to do that; they didn’t seem to want me around anyway. But there was this soccer coach there; he was nineteen, I think he was a student. I saw the way he was looking at us, you know. Well, he was really nice looking so I went with him.”
“Very good!” Jim said, reaching up to undo Simon’s shorts. “So what did you do?”
“He fucked me, of course,” Simon said, making it sound like it was nothing out of the ordinary, “every day, twice a day sometimes.”
“Did he now?” Jim queried, becoming more aroused by the second. “I bet you enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir,” Simon confirmed. “He’d got a beautiful cock, a lot like yours actually.”
“So how long ago was that?” Jim enquired, pushing the boy’s shorts down over his hips.
“I came home about a month ago,” Simon said.
“So I guess you’ll be pretty tight by now,” Jim said quietly. “Are you sure you’ll be able to take mine?”
“I’ll be okay,” Simon said, grinning. “Greg, the soccer coach, taught me a little trick.”
Jim reached up and pulled down Simon’s underpants. He took a deep breath then leaned forwards, plunging down on the boy’s slim erection, running his tongue all over the small, shiny head.
“Oooh sir!” Simon breathed. “That’s nice! Greg never did that!”
Jim smiled inwardly; for him, maximising the boy’s pleasure was an essential part of it; the more the boy enjoyed his ministrations, the more aroused he became. He applied some lubricant to his fingers; slipping his hand between Simon’s legs he quickly located the boy’s pucker. He pushed. Simon relaxed and admitted him. Jim thrust his finger in deep, hitting the boy’s prostate. Simon’s penis twitched violently, jamming itself against the roof of his mouth. He pushed in a second finger; it went in as easily as the first.
Jim was consumed by lust. Simon was as cute as any of the Hartswood boys he’d been with, and the smallest by some margin. He withdrew his fingers and retrieved the pillow, throwing it onto the desk.
“Bend over,” he ordered, positioning Simon on top of it.
He moved around behind, smearing lubricant onto his penis and guiding it onto its target. He pushed hard. For a moment nothing happened. Suddenly Simon relaxed. His anus dilated, allowing Jim to slip inside.
“Hmmm!” Jim commented, almost caught off-balance. “Very good! Your soccer coach must have taught you well!”
“Yes sir!” Simon gasped, his sphincter still adjusting to the large intrusion.
Jim continued to push, his penis slowly disappearing into Simon’s rectum. Within seconds his stomach was pressed tight against the boy’s bottom. He paused, marvelling at the sensations; now that he was inside, the boy was exceptionally tight. After a few seconds he began to move, going quite slowly at first. Gradually he picked up the pace, fucking the lad harder with every thrust.
Simon moaned and whimpered, revelling in every second of it. He’d waited a whole month; finally he’d got what he wanted, a large penis thrusting repeatedly into his tunnel. Jim reached down, fondling the boy’s stiff little prong. Simon bucked like a wild animal, his body wracked by violent muscle spasms, his boyhood swelling and jerking between the man’s fingers. A few more thrusts and Jim’s orgasm followed. His penis jerked powerfully, almost lifting the boy off his feet, copious amounts of semen filling the lad’s rectum. After several seconds to bring his breathing under control, he carefully withdrew. Simon turned to face him.
“Thanks sir! he breathed, his eyes sparkling. “That was fantastic!”
“You’d better use the toilet,” Jim said, indicating his private cubicle. “And take some of this,” he added, handing the boy a large piece of cotton wool. “Put it inside your briefs when you’ve finished; we don’t want you making a mess.”
Simon shuffled awkwardly into the cubicle, his shorts and briefs still round his ankles. He sat down, allowing Jim’s semen to run out of him. He cleaned up as best he could then pulled his up underpants around his thighs, placing the cotton wool inside before drawing them over his genitals. As soon as he’d finished dressing, he flushed the toilet and returned to the office.
“I’d better be going sir,” he said, giving Jim a beautiful smile.
Jim unlocked the changing room door and sent him on his way.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The rugby team strode out onto the field. Their first two matches had been followed by a loss away to Queen Elizabeth’s. They had performed heroically but had been repeatedly denied possession by a pack of forwards much bigger and stronger than theirs; there was no remedy for that.
Today they had a home match against Whitestone Hall, the fixture where everything had gone so disastrously wrong the year before. With Andrew Farnham refereeing the game, Jim had the luxury of being able to watch. From the first whistle it was clear there would be no repeat of the previous year’s debacle; the Hartswood team was totally dominant. They had gelled superbly since the start of term, their teamwork well-drilled and ruthlessly efficient. Jim walked along the touchline, his shouts of praise and encouragement almost superfluous.
Simon and his friends were grouped together close to the halfway line, shouting enthusiastically. Jim strolled up behind them and listened. Since his get-together with Simon nine days earlier, there had been no repeat performance; the boy had not given the slightest indication that he wanted one. Jim was not unduly disappointed; it had been a delightful treat but he didn’t want another long term commitment.
The first voice he heard was Lee’s, shouting in support of Giles Madison. Jim already knew about that; Lee and Giles had been together since the summer. He soon discovered he’d been right about Patrick, who was keenly supporting inside centre Brian Harper. They were well-suited, Jim considered; they’d be good for each other.
Even Deon had someone to shout for, not his older brother, but Jonathan Moore, playing on the right wing. Jim chuckled quietly. Small for his age, rather plain and lacking any sporting talent, Deon had a cute little body and the largest penis of all the third year boys. Jim was pleased the lad wasn’t being left out, but as both Deon and Jonathan were extremely shy, how they’d got together was a complete mystery.
Finally he heard Simon’s voice. He was shouting for Pascal Donnelly, ‘Paz’, as the boys called him, playing on the left wing, the far side from where they were standing. Jim allowed himself a smile. Simon had done well; although only in Lower Fourth, Pascal was a star in the making. Simon had been a rock for Tim; he’d provide the same support for Pascal, very important as the boy settled into his new school.
The match ended with Hartswood having recorded a thumping victory. Afterwards, Jim chatted briefly to Andrew before heading for the changing room. He wondered if he ought to say something to make sure the lads kept their feet on the ground. He opened the door and went inside.
“Well done lads!” Jeremy was saying, his voice crackling with enthusiasm. “Fantastic performance today; we’ve worked hard and we’re getting the results. But don’t let’s get carried away; we’ve got tougher matches to come so we need to stick at it. We’ll see you all at training on Monday!”
Jim glowed with satisfaction, clapping and nodding his endorsement. There was nothing for him to add; Jeremy had said it all for him.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim’s life continued serenely for several weeks. It was now early December. At around quarter past four he left the rugby team under the watchful eye of Andrew Farnham while he went back to school to help William with his high jump training. He found the boy sitting on the landing area looking completely dejected.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“I don’t know sir,” William said disconsolately, shaking his head. “I just feel so tired all the time. And now when I try to jump I’ve got a pain in my right heel.”
Jim looked at the lad. He was growing rapidly, his tiredness the inevitable consequence.
“Take your shoe off,” he said quietly.
He examined William’s foot; there was no bruise. He pressed his thumb against the bottom of the boy’s heel.
“Owwww!!” William protested.
Jim put his arm around the lad’s shoulder.
“You’re growing very quickly at the moment,” he said gently. “All your energy is being diverted into that; that’s why you feel tired. One of the things that happens at your age is that the bones in your heel join together. While that’s going on everything’s a bit sensitive; you’ve given it a bit too much work to do so it started to hurt. You’re going to need to rest it. We finish for Christmas in two weeks. Knock it on the head till we get back; let’s see how it is then. Meanwhile, just take things easy, okay? Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”
“Thanks sir,” William said, smiling at Jim and snuggling closer.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Returning to school in January, William seemed much more like his old self. It was not to last. After barely two weeks the fatigue returned and a few days later the heel flared up. Once more, Jim curtailed the boy’s activities, not only his training but games and gym as well. Two weeks passed. By then, all appeared to be well, with William champing at the bit, eager to get back to normal. Somewhat apprehensively, Jim agreed. His misgivings proved well-founded; within a matter of days the boy broke down again.
“Why sir?” William sobbed. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Sssshhhh!!” Jim whispered. “You’re growing up; that’s all. These things happen; it’s not uncommon.”
“None of the other boys keeps getting injured,” William countered, his frustration all too obvious.
“That’s true enough,” Jim admitted. “Some boys get these problems; most seem to get by pretty much unscathed. That’s just the way it is. But one thing I can tell you is that you will get through this, and the talent will still be there. You’ll just have to trust me, okay?”
“Thanks sir,” William mumbled, pacified for a while at least.
The pattern was established, short periods of activity interspersed with longer ones of enforced rest. William became fretful, his frustration mounting, the self-belief draining out of him. Characteristically, he put on a brave face in front of his friends, who seemed blissfully unaware of the problems he was experiencing. Jim steeled himself. It was easy to coach a talented athlete when everything was going well; this was the real test. He’d started William on this journey; he was not going to abandon him when things were at their most difficult. He’d have to nurse him through it. It was not going to be easy; William was gentle and sensitive; he’d begun to doubt his own abilities. He was going to need all the love and understanding that Jim could give him.
Throughout this period, their clandestine meetings continued. On his good days, William was as keen to have sex as he’d ever been. On others he needed hugs and gentle reassurance, and that’s exactly what Jim provided. On several Sunday mornings they lay on Jim’s bed, cuddling and chatting with matters not progressing any further. Jim hardly noticed the reduced level of sexual contact. Helping William through his difficulties was the priority and nothing was going to deflect him from it.
As the boys dressed after rugby training, he called Jeremy to his office.
“You’ll need to be very gentle with William at the moment,” he said quietly. “He’s having a rough time. If he doesn’t feel like having sex, don’t push it, okay? I’m doing my best to get him through it; I need you to help me. Chat to him, cuddle him, tell him how special he is.”
“Yes sir, I understand,” Jeremy said, smiling. “After all, he is special, isn’t he?”
Jim sent the rugby captain on his way, allowing himself a smile; the ever-loyal Jeremy would do as he’d been asked.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After the Easter holiday, William returned to school refreshed and eager to begin the new athletics season. For more than a week all went well. He felt sharper and his right heel seemed to have finally settled down; in both high jump and hurdles he was getting back to the standards he’d achieved the year before.
It was lunchtime. Jim strolled out onto the field, heading for the high jump. He had given William permission to practise on his own when there were no younger boys there keeping the bar lower than he needed it. He found the boy sitting on the landing area, his face streaked with tears.
“What’s the problem?” he asked gently. “Is your heel playing up again?”
“It’s my legs, sir,” William said, indicating his shins. “They’re really sore; I can’t push off properly.”
Jim cursed inwardly. The problem with William’s heel had been replaced by shin splints, another common injury; the boy wasn’t having much luck. There was nothing for it; he’d have to rest again until it cleared up. It was a bitter disappointment. Jim accompanied the boy as he almost hobbled back to the changing room.
He began to feel suddenly uneasy. Was William going to be one of those lads that lurched from one problem to another, never staying free of injury for long enough to achieve their full potential? He mentally kicked himself, banishing the thought from his mind. William needed him to be strong; if he lost faith the cause was hopeless.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim sat down to lunch with John Halford and three other colleagues.
“How’s William getting on?” John enquired. “I haven’t seen much of him this term.”
“He’s struggling at the moment,” Jim said. “He’s been having injury problems since before Christmas; it’s mainly because he’s growing so fast. I’m hoping to have him out for Sports Day, but I don’t expect him to do too much before that.”
“You’re too soft, man!” art master Alan Townsend barked. “Keep him going; he’ll get through it!”
“My best friend at school was an outstanding rugby player,” Jim said evenly, looking straight at the man, “far better than I ever was. When we were fifteen he got a hip injury. The school kept him going; he played match after match. By the end of the season he could hardly walk, let alone run. When he went home for the Easter holidays his parents took him to the hospital. He’d done serious, permanent damage. He never played again. Nothing like that is ever going to happen as long as I’m in charge.”
There was an uneasy silence. Jim kept his eyes trained on the art master, mid-fifties, stockily built and with a reputation as a strict disciplinarian; definitely one of the old school. The older man’s eyes darted left and right, as if seeking support. He didn’t get any.
“Hmphhh!” he snorted. “Must be going!”
He stood up and stomped away, returning his tray to the servery.
“You certainly put him in his place,” Mike Thompson commented, grinning at Jim. “It’s exactly the same with the runners; you have to be so careful.”
“Alan is a good artist and an excellent teacher,” John Halford said quietly. “He is also a decorated war hero. Unfortunately, he thinks he’s still fighting it.”
John stifled a chuckle. Not for the first time, the deputy head’s eloquence had summed things up perfectly.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
William’s enforced inactivity allowed Jim to spend more time working with the other high jumpers. While they were all reasonably proficient, the only one who showed anything like the talent that William had was the youngest member of the squad, second year Gavin McIntyre.
Physically, Gavin was like a smaller version of William, tall for his age and pencil slim. The resemblance ended there. While William was a model student, Gavin was the naughtiest boy in the entire school. The short but unruly sand-coloured hair and sharp features covered in a rash of freckles summed him up him perfectly; the lad had mischief written all over him. Although he never caused a problem in games or gym, he was constantly in trouble in other classes, mainly because he couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes. He was a bundle of pent-up energy that was constantly looking for somewhere to unleash itself.
He was sexually precocious too, being one of only two second year boys to have acquired an older friend, Max Hartley-Taylor, the biggest boy in the school, who apart from playing alongside Jeremy in the rugby team, spent his time listening to rock music and doing as little work as he could get away with. According to ‘the rules’, Upper Fourth were not meant to go with second years, but John Halford took the view that splitting them up would probably make things worse, and as, by all accounts, it had been Gavin’s idea, the relationship had been allowed to continue.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
William was not there; he hated watching when he wasn’t able to take part. Gavin ran up, attempting a height that most of the older boys could barely manage. Although they were not allowed to wear underpants for most activities, high jump was an exception. All the other high jumpers were wearing them; typically, Gavin wasn’t. He sailed gracefully over the bar. Being so slim, his marble sized balls and circumcised penis were completely exposed. He swaggered back across the run up area, a mischievous smile on his face. Jim caught his breath. For a ten year old, the lad was incredibly sexy.
“Okay, everybody!” Jim said, smiling broadly. “Well done today. Gavin, you stay behind; the rest of you, off you go, get showered and changed. I’ll see you all on Thursday.”
As the older lads wandered back to the pavilion Jim raised the bar so that it was almost level with the top of Gavin’s head.
“Okay, young man!” he said briskly. “Let’s see what you can do.”
Gavin ran in, a look of steely determination on his face. He drove upwards. His body cleared the bar quite comfortably only for him to graze it off with his calves. He punched the landing bed in frustration.
“One more try!” Jim called.
Gavin trotted back to his starting position. He stared at the bar, rocking gently backwards and forwards, focussing on what he needed to do. Finally he ran in; it was another narrow failure. He gave Jim a wry grin.
“Okay, that’s enough for today,” Jim said, smiling. “You’ll get that soon.”
They covered up the landing area then returned the equipment to the store, Jim carrying the bar and one upright while Gavin eagerly carried the other. The task completed, they headed back to the changing room.
Jim resisted the temptation to put his arm round Gavin’s shoulder. He had a very soft spot for him. His impetuous, unruly behaviour had seen him repeatedly excluded from the state primary school he’d attended, driving his parents to their wits end. Although by no means rich, they had scraped together the money to send him to boarding school. But even at Hartswood with its small classes, several of Jim’s colleagues found the lad difficult to control. The strange thing was that Gavin was as likeable a boy as you could ever meet; there was not an ounce of malice in him. He had talent too. Given the right support and encouragement, Jim reasoned, he might learn to control his behaviour. That was, after all, what his parents were paying for.
They stepped inside just as the other boys were preparing to leave.
“May I have a shower, sir?” Gavin asked.
“Yes, but make it quick,” Jim said, “you don’t have long.”
Within seconds Gavin was out of his sports kit and trotting into the showers. Telling him to make it quick was hardly necessary, Jim reflected; it was what he always did. Less than two minutes later he was back, his three inch penis as hard as a rock. He posed provocatively, a mischievous grin on his face. Jim took a deep breath. The temptation was too great to resist.
“Well now,” he said quietly. “It seems like you’ve got a little problem.”
Gavin reached down, stroking his genitals.
“Unfortunately we don’t have time to sort it out right now,” Jim continued. “You’ve got to go to prep.”
“Do I have to, sir?” Gavin asked imploringly. “Couldn’t we say I was helping you or something?”
“Sorry,” Jim said, smiling, realising only too well how difficult Gavin found it to sit still for a whole hour, “but prep it is. Tomorrow morning, get up a bit early. As soon as you’re washed and dressed come to my office. Make sure you’re there between seven and ten past, okay?”
“Yes sir,” Gavin said, still grinning.
“And no saying anything, not even to that little friend of yours.” Jim concluded.
“I won’t sir,” Gavin assured him.
Gavin threw on his school clothes and hurried out of the pavilion.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
There was always a special frisson of excitement, waiting for a boy like this; first Jerome, then Simon, now it was Gavin’s turn. Jim tried to pass the time reading the morning paper, but found concentration impossible. Finally there was a knock on the door, the knock he’d been waiting for.
“Come in!” he called.
Gavin entered, his sandy hair looking even more unruly than usual. Jim strolled past him, locking the changing room before returning to the office. He closed the door and sat down, the lad standing in front of him. The boy’s erection was making a very obvious bulge in his shorts.
“Hmmm!” Jim said quietly, stroking Gavin’s long slim legs. “It seems you’ve still got that little problem. We’ll have to see what we can do about it.”
He reached up, opening the boy’s grey school shorts. They fell around his ankles, revealing a pair of white nylon gym shorts.
“What are you wearing these for?” Jim asked, somewhat taken aback.
“So you can fuck me in them,” Gavin said nonchalantly.
“Really?” Jim said, raising and eyebrow. “Is that what Max does?”
“He does sometimes,” Gavin confirmed.
“And you like that?” Jim probed, becoming more aroused by the second.
“Yeah!” Gavin breathed.
Jim pushed up the leg of Gavin’s gym shorts, exposing his erect penis. He leaned forwards, taking it into his mouth. He sucked it hungrily, savouring the taste of hard, pre-pubescent boy. It was the most delicious taste in the whole world; there was nothing that could compare with it. He pushed his hand between Gavin’s legs, inserting a well-lubed finger into the boy’s anus. There was no resistance. He pushed in a second finger, the fact that the lad was used to having Max’s well developed penis inside him perfectly obvious.
He let the boy go, allowing his shorts to fall back into place. He stood up, placing the pillow on the desk. Gavin got into position without even waiting to be asked. Jim stood behind him. With Gavin being so slim, he reasoned, this wouldn’t be difficult at all. He pushed a finger up inside the boy’s shorts, easing them down a little to give him more room. He got out his penis, quickly smearing it with KY. He pushed it up the leg of Gavin’s shorts, guiding it carefully onto the boy’s sphincter. He wasn’t going to be gentle; he was sure Max wasn’t. The lad wanted it hard and that’s what he was going to get. He held him around the thighs, forcing his manhood right in with a single powerful thrust.
“Oooohhh!” Gavin gasped, his anus stretched almost to breaking point.
“I’m a bit bigger down there than Max, aren’t I?” Jim queried in a low growl.
“Yes sir,” the boy whimpered, still shocked by the size of the intrusion.
Jim set to work, thrusting his penis remorselessly into the lad’s rectum. Gavin moaned and whimpered, the mixture of pain and pleasure driving him almost insane, his boyhood rubbing continuously against his coarse nylon gym shorts. He couldn’t last. After barely two minutes he shuddered, his sphincter clamping tight around the games master’s penis. A moment later his boyhood came to life, jerking and swelling in the confines of his shorts. He went suddenly limp, submitting totally to the man’s lust.
Jim ploughed into the lad with even greater ferocity; sexy little Gavin was as hot and tight as he’d expected and he was going to give him what he’d come for. Another two minutes passed. Almost without warning Jim’s orgasm was upon him. Instinctively he thrust his whole length into the boy, holding on tight as his semen exploded into the lad’s rectum.
Finally he withdrew. Gavin farted noisily, Jim’s semen making a large stain in the crotch of his gym shorts. To Jim’s considerable surprise, Gavin simply pulled his grey school shorts back up again.
“Aren’t you going to use the toilet?” Jim questioned.
“No, I love having the spunk inside me,” Gavin said, grinning. “I’m going to breakfast now; I’ll use the toilet afterwards, before I change into my underpants.”
“Are you okay?” Jim asked.
“Yeah!” Gavin confirmed. “Thanks, sir; that was fantastic!”
“We must do it again some time,” Jim quipped, unlocking the changing room door.
“Yeah, whenever you like,” Gavin responded, his mischievous grin broader than ever.
He sauntered off, the man’s semen seeping into his gym shorts.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
William did turn out for sports day. He won the high jump, labouring over the height he’d cleared the year before. He won the hurdles too, though in a slower time. He looked rusty and out of sorts, the rhythm and fluency simply not there. It was a major disappointment. As far as William was concerned it would be good to get the school year finished, Jim reflected, hoping that the new school year would bring the lad better fortune.
Before term ended, Jim managed three more clandestine meetings with Gavin. The routine was the same each time. Gavin always wanted Jim to fuck him in his gym shorts, and the games master was happy to oblige. Still three months short of his eleventh birthday, Gavin was as sexy as any boy Jim had ever encountered. He was brave too; although small and tight, at each subsequent penetration he made not a murmur of protest. Jim was very hopeful that their early morning encounters would resume after the summer holiday; with Gavin’s older friend Max leaving the school, he felt sure they would.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After working so hard to help William through his problems, a period of relaxation in the Far East seemed a far more attractive proposition than it had the year before. It was an enjoyable experience but strangely unsatisfying. The boys were cute enough and very willing, but the reality was that they did it to earn money, and although they did an excellent job, Jim found he couldn’t connect with them in the way that he did with the Hartswood boys, always aware that they’d perform with equal enthusiasm for the next tourist they met. He flew back to England pleased to have gone but in no hurry to return.
Back at home, Jim’s thoughts turned to preparations for the new school term. He needed to purchase a new tracksuit, a pair of slacks and a few other items. Although the small market town where he lived provided well for his regular shopping needs, for more substantial items he needed to travel further afield. He set off for the much larger town ten miles away where there was a large modern shopping centre with extensive car parking.
After buying the tracksuit and a couple of smaller items, he made his way to a pub where he relaxed over lunch. Leaving the pub, he headed back to the shopping centre where he purchased the new slacks and the other things he needed. It was time to go home. On his way to the car park he went into the men’s room, more as a precaution than anything else. Standing at the urinal, he became aware of a boy positioned a few feet to his left. Checking first that there was no-one else around, he looked across.
The boy, whom he guessed to be about twelve, had straight dark hair which, though not quite collar length, completely covered his ears. He was dressed in a red and white striped tee-shirt with very short sleeves, blue denim shorts that finished a few inches below his crotch, long, brightly patterned socks and well-worn training shoes. He was certainly cute, in a slightly rough, street-boy way; more to the point he was stroking his penis, uncut, erect and showing definite signs of development.
Jim immediately became aroused, his heart pounding in his chest. Never once had he picked up a boy in this manner. Although he had endured a long barren spell after his school days ended, he’d never had the time to frequent men’s rooms looking for boys. In any case, he’d always considered the practice to be somewhat distasteful and extremely risky.
The boy looked towards him, grinning nervously.
“Got somewhere to go?” he mouthed.
“Yeah,” Jim responded, jerking his head in the direction of the exit.
Jim zipped up, picked up his shopping bags and made his way out. Once safely clear of the place, he glanced over his shoulder, spotting the dark haired boy about ten yards behind. Uncertain what to do next, he stopped in front of a shop window, pretending to look at the display. The boy strolled up alongside him.
“You wanna take me somewhere?” he asked.
He was roughly spoken with a strong south London accent, very different from the Hartswood boys, his voice right in the middle of breaking.
“Yeah,” Jim confirmed.
“Where are we goin’?” the lad continued.
“My flat,” Jim told him. “It’s okay; it’s not far. Follow me to the car park.”
The boy nodded. Jim made his way back to the car, the boy keeping a discreet distance behind. As he walked, Jim looked around suspiciously, checking to see if anyone was following them; all appeared to be well. Reaching the car, he put the bags in the back then got into the driver’s seat. He made a final check. The boy was approaching the car; there was nobody else close. He unlocked the front passenger door, allowing the boy to get in next to him.
He endured one more nervous moment as he paid for the car park before driving through the exit barrier; in the event, the attendant took no interest. Finally they were on the road and he could relax a little.
“That’s better,” Jim said, smiling. “What’s your name?”
“Ryan,” the boy responded.
“Hi Ryan, I’m Brad,” Jim said quietly, deliberately giving the lad his second name rather than the first. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen,” Ryan told him.
It sounded about right, Jim thought. The lad wasn’t that big, but his penis was thicker than most twelve year olds; his voice suggested thirteen too.
“You’ll bring me back after?” Ryan demanded.
“Sure,” Jim reassured him. “Have you done this before?”
“Nah,” Ryan said, “just messed about with a couple of mates. I’ve tried a couple of times, but I got these fat old geezers wantin’ to go with me; I didn’t wanna do it with them!”
“Oh, I see,” Jim said absently, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Yeah, a few months ago I saw this guy at the swimming pool,” Ryan continued, “really fit lookin’, great body. I was hopin’ he’d pick me up but he wasn’t interested.”
“So you like older guys then?” Jim suggested.
“Yeah, as long as . . . , you know.” Ryan said.
For a few seconds the car descended into silence, neither of them able to think of anything to say.
“Sorry if I seemed a bit nervous back there,” Jim ventured. “I don’t usually pick boys up like that.”
“Well, you gotta be careful; the coppers might be watchin’” Ryan said casually. “So where d’you usually meet ‘em?”
“I go abroad,” Jim said, deliberately keeping it vague. “It’s different there.”
“There are rent boys here if you know where to look,” Ryan said dismissively.
For a moment, Jim was shocked. He quickly realised he shouldn’t be; Ryan inhabited a very different world from the one he was used to.
“So what d’you want to do?” he asked gently.
“Dunno,” Ryan said, looking uncomfortable, “whatever you want.”
There was another uneasy silence, Jim wondering whether the boy knew what he might be letting himself in for. To his surprise, Ryan came to his rescue.
“D’you wanna fuck me?” he asked pointedly.
“Yeah, if you’re okay with it,” Jim said casually. “Have you taken it before?”
“Nah,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Just know about it.”
“Oh? How’s that then?” Jim probed.
“There’s this kid at school, right?” Ryan said quietly. “He was tellin’ us about his cousin, goes out on the rent scene; went with this geezer who fucked him up the arse. Kid says his cousin wanted him to go rentin’ too, but he says he didn’t.”
“Oh, right,” Jim said, still somewhat taken aback.
“Well you can do it if you want,” Ryan said nonchalantly.
They arrived at the flat. Jim unlocked the door, ushering the boy inside.
“Nice place,” Ryan commented, looking around. “What job d’you do?”
“I work at a college,” Jim said, unwilling to say what he actually did. “Sports coaching, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, I knew you were into sport,” Ryan remarked, nodding towards the bag containing the new tracksuit.
They made their way through to Jim’s bedroom.
“Okay,” take you shoes and socks off, Jim said quietly.
“Do I have to?” Ryan asked, pulling a face.
Jim looked at the boy quizzically.
“It’s my feet . . . , you know,” Ryan admitted, looking embarrassed.
“You can have a bath if you want,” Jim suggested.
“Nah,” Ryan said. “I’ll only have to put this stuff back on afterwards.”
“Just a minute then,” Jim said, quickly retrieving an old bedspread from the cupboard.
He spread it over the bed, taking out a towel as well, and dumping it on the bedside cabinet. He turned towards Ryan, lifting the bottom of the boy’s tee-shirt. The lad squirmed away.
“No, man” he said. “I wanna keep this on. Just take my shorts and pants off; we can do it like that.”
Jim wasn’t going to argue; in most of his assignations with the boys at school he didn’t have them naked. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to open Ryan’s shorts. They fell around his ankles revealing a pair of brightly patterned briefs. It appeared that they weren’t too clean either. Jim quickly skinned them down the boy’s legs. The lad was fully erect, his uncut penis about four inches long and medium thick, some sparse back hair beginning to sprout around the base, a pair of large, hairless balls hanging beneath.
“Beautiful cock,” Jim commented. “Can you cum?”
“Yeah, man,” Ryan said, “shoots all over when my mate wanks it for me.”
Jim leaned forwards, taking it into his mouth. Ryan’s personal hygiene left a lot to be desired but he wasn’t complaining. He sucked eagerly, the musky smell of pubescent boy turning him on even more. He ran his hands over the lad’s thighs, slim without being skinny and delightfully smooth. Ryan was breathing quite audibly, placing his hand on Jim’s head. Not wishing the boy to ejaculate too soon, Jim pulled away.
“Very nice!” he breathed, licking his lips. “Did you like that?”
“Yeah,” Ryan whispered. “Felt much better than just getting wanked.”
Jim kicked off his shoes and socks, quickly stripping down to his jockey shorts.
“Let’s get on the bed,” he suggested.
Ryan climbed onto the bed, flopping down next to him. Jim put his arm around the boy’s shoulder, intending to kiss him. Ryan tensed up; it was not the direction he wanted to go.
“Suck my dick again,” he demanded.
Jim scooted down, resting his head on Ryan’s tummy. He flicked out his tongue, wiping it over the head which was still covered by the lad’s foreskin. He opened his mouth, pushing right down on it, savouring the warmth and hardness. He sucked it steadily, the head jamming itself repeatedly against the roof of his mouth, the boy’s musky aroma spurring him on.
“Oh yeah, man!” Ryan groaned, pressing gently down on Jim’s head. “Oooohh!”
Jim slipped his hand between Ryan’s legs, quickly locating the boy’s anus. He tickled it, gradually increasing the pressure.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!!” Ryan moaned.
Jim quickly pulled away; that had been close.
“Man! I was nearly cumming!” Ryan gasped, confirming what Jim already knew.
Ryan reached down, running his long slim fingers over Jim’s penis, still trapped in his briefs.
“Feels big,” the boy commented.
“Why don’t you find out?” Jim suggested.
He lifted his hips off the bed, allowing the lad to pull his jockey shorts down around his thighs.
“It is big, isn’t it?” Ryan remarked, raising an eyebrow. He stroked it gently, the touch of his fingers driving Jim almost insane.
Jim pushed his briefs down to his ankles and kicked them off.
“Will you suck it for me?” he asked.
Ryan held it around the base, eyeing it nervously.
“You won’t cum in my mouth, will you?” he demanded.
“No, not if you don’t want me to,” Jim reassured him. “I’ll tell you if I’m getting close.”
“I don’t mind you spunking up my arse but I don’t want it in my mouth,” Ryan insisted.
“Yeah, that’s cool,” Jim said gently. “Just mind your teeth, okay?”
Ryan leaned forwards, eyeing Jim’s penis as though it were about to explode. Following Jim’s example, he flicked out his tongue, licking the large bulbous head.
“Oh yeah!” Jim whispered.
Ryan moved in, closing his lips over it. He pushed slowly down until he was about to gag.
“Good boy!” Jim breathed. “Don’t try to take too much; that’s wonderful.”
Very nervously Ryan began to suck, the boy’s obvious lack of experience increasing Jim’s arousal even further. He reached down the lad’s back, a well-lubed finger homing in on the boy’s sphincter. He pushed insistently, slowly ratcheting up the pressure. Ryan was extremely tight; it was several seconds before he entered him.
“Oooh, you’d better stop,” Jim instructed, feeling his balls begin to tighten.
Ryan pulled away, Jim’s finger slipping out of his anus.
“Have you ever tried sticking things up your bum?” he enquired.
“Yeah, sometimes,” Ryan admitted.
“What?” Jim asked.
“I’ve got this big pencil my auntie gave me,” Ryan said. “It’s sort of rounded at the bottom so I use that.”
“And?” Jim persisted.
“It hurts a bit when it goes in, but if I keep pushing it touches this hard spot up my arse, makes my dick feel all funny, like I’m bein’ wanked off from inside. That’s way out, man!”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what it feels like,” Jim confirmed, deciding not to elaborate. “D’you use any lube, Vaseline or anything?”
“Nah,” Ryan said. “Should I?”
“Yes,” Jim said, “makes it feel much better; doesn’t hurt as much.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, smiling.
Jim was familiar with the pencils Ryan was talking about; several of the boys at school had them. With a diameter of around three quarters of an inch they were only a fraction of what he was going to give him. Under different circumstances he wouldn’t have even considered fucking the boy right then; he’d have preferred to make sure he was properly prepared. But this was a one-off, in all probability the only opportunity he’d ever have. He was not going to turn it down.
“Time to get you ready,” he said with a note of quiet authority.
Jim applied more KY to his fingers. Scooting down again, he took Ryan’s penis into his mouth, simply holding it there while he put his hand between the boy’s legs. He touched Ryan’s anus, pushing his index finger in as far as the first knuckle. He paused for a moment then pushed in deeper. He encountered the boy’s prostate, Ryan’s boyhood twitching in his mouth. He pulled back then thrust the finger in again. The result was the same.
Jim allowed the finger to slide most of the way out. Very carefully, he placed his middle finger behind it, pushing that one in as well. Ryan winced, attempting involuntarily to repel the intruders. Jim paused, waiting for the boy to relax. Eventually he was able to push both fingers in, hitting the lad’s prostate again. Very carefully, he twisted his fingers around, forcing them apart to open the boy up as much as he could. That was it; Ryan was as well prepared as he was going to be. He slowly withdrew his fingers. He placed a pillow in the middle of the bed, took the towel from Ryan and spread it on top.
“On your tummy,” he said quietly.
Ryan complied without a murmur, the pillow under his hips. Jim spread the boy’s legs, kneeling between them while he smeared KY over his penis. He bent forwards, pulling Ryan’s cheeks apart. Unused to such intrusions, the boy’s sphincter had closed right up. Deep down, Jim knew he should abandon the attempt right there. It was not to be. Opportunities to take a boy’s virginity were rare; he simply couldn’t pass it up.
He’d been in his final year at school the last time he’d deflowered a boy, cute thirteen year old Bobby Taylor; he could remember it perfectly. It was the way things happened back then; when you took a younger boy you fucked him straight away; it was what was expected. Bobby had cried when he’d penetrated him. It didn’t matter; most of them did the first time. Bobby had soon come back looking for more.
Jim made sure Ryan’s underpants were readily to hand, reckoning he’d almost certainly need them. He lowered himself into position, using his left hand to hold the boy’s cheeks apart, his right to guide his manhood onto its target. He pushed hard, forcing the head right through Ryan’s sphincter.
“Yeeeeeowww!!!” Ryan screamed, the pain searing through him as though he’d been split in two, his erection disappearing in an instant.
“Easy, kid!” Jim soothed. “You’ve done the hard part. Just relax!”
After a few seconds he pushed in deeper, his penis thrusting over the boy’s prostate.
“Aaaaaggghhh!!” Ryan protested, still unable to believe how painful it was; now he felt full and bloated too.
Jim grabbed Ryan’s soiled briefs, stuffing them into the boy’s mouth.
“Keep quiet!” he said quietly, growling into Ryan’s ear. “You said I could fuck you so just lie there and take it.”
He set to his task. Ryan lay helplessly beneath him, pinned to the bed. He couldn’t believe what was happening. The pain was still there, so was the bloated feeling, but somehow they were being overcome, masked by feelings of sheer pleasure, generated each time the man’s penis hit that sensitive spot deep inside him. In less than a minute his boyhood was harder than ever, rubbing insistently against the towel. He was almost delirious. He wasn’t, was he?
He was. He shuddered violently, legs flailing, fingers clawing at the bed, his sphincter clamping even tighter around the man’s invading penis. A moment later his boyhood swelled and jerked. Three jets of boy-cum squirted forth, making him all sticky.
“Good boy!” Jim growled. “I knew that was what you wanted!”
He ploughed on, fucking the boy as hard as he knew how. Ryan lay limply beneath him, his boyhood rapidly returning to full hardness. The man’s orgasm was not long delayed. Ryan felt him tense up, hot breath swirling around his face.
“Here it comes!” Jim gasped, his breathing harsh and ragged. “Take my spunk! Yes! Yes! Yes! Nnnnnggg!!!”
Ryan lay there submissively, the man’s penis jerking into action, volley after volley of thick creamy fluid flooding into his rectum. Suddenly it was over, the man lying motionless on top of him, his heart thumping against Ryan’s back.
Eventually Jim eased his way out, his penis making its exit with an audible pop. He reached forwards, gently removing the soiled briefs from Ryan’s mouth. Ryan felt suddenly empty. He pushed up onto his knees, some of the man’s semen spluttering out and trickling down his legs. He couldn’t believe how sore he was; his anus felt like it was on fire.
“I need the toilet,” he said.
“It’s over there,” Jim said, “straight opposite.”
Ryan got to his feet, walking awkwardly in the direction of the bathroom. After closing the door he sat on the toilet, Jim’s semen rushing out of him like the worst diarrhoea he’d ever had. He was almost in a trance; he’d told Jim he could fuck him, but nothing could have prepared him for what it was actually like. He cleaned up as well as he could, but his anus was so sore he couldn’t bear to touch it. He flushed the toilet and walked awkwardly back to the bedroom. Jim was already dressed.
“Are you okay?” the man asked.
“Sorry I was a bit rough,” Jim said. “I don’t think there’s anyone at home downstairs but I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“It’s okay,” Ryan said, giving him a wan smile. “It was just such a shock.”
“It’s always like that the first time,” Jim assured him. “You did fantastic! That was amazing!”
Ryan pulled on his underpants. Jim handed him some cotton wool.
“Keep some of this in there for a couple of hours,” he said gently, “save you making a mess.”
Ryan did as Jim suggested, placing the cotton wool in the crotch of his briefs before pulling them into position. A minute later they were in the car, driving back the way they’d come. There was little conversation; neither of them had much to say.
Jim dropped the boy off on a council estate about a mile from the town centre. He turned the car round and headed for home. His head was spinning. The sex had been fantastic. Deflowering a cute boy like Ryan was the ultimate, the pinnacle, the sense of triumph at taking a kid’s virginity quite incomparable.
But that was all it had been, just sex, and that’s all it ever could have been; the bonds that made the relationships with ‘his boys’ at Hartswood so fulfilling were totally absent. There had been no talk of a second meeting; neither he nor Ryan had even mentioned it. In reality, it was a relief; as a one-off experience it had been the best ever, but Jim knew that as a relationship it could not have worked.
Jim wondered how long it would be before Ryan did that again. A few days for the soreness to wear off, he reckoned, and the boy would be back at the toilets, looking for another man to fuck him.