How many times is this I’ve disclaimed? I’ve lost count. Well, I’ve just done it again, so there!
This is the chapter where ‘A Sporting Chance’ was intended to finish, but as a result of some inspiration from one of my regular correspondents, it will continue, for a couple more chapters at least. Having been involved in the prep school milieu, my correspondent relayed to me the outline of an episode in which he had been peripherally involved, concluding by expressing the view that it could not be made into a realistic Nifty story line. Well, I couldn’t resist a challenge like that, could I?
So read on and enjoy, we’re not finished with Jim Cooper yet! As ever feedback will be more than welcome and I promise faithfully to respond to it. Please send your comments to firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
A SPORTING CHANCE - PART SEVEN
“Good morning, Richard!” Jim said brightly, greeting the music master’s appearance a couple of days before the start of term. “How was the holiday?”
“Uneventful,” Richard said. “I went abroad for a few weeks; a very pleasant way to spend the time but nothing more, it never is.”
“About the same here,” Jim responded. “All very pleasant but I’ve no urge to go rushing back. So I take it you haven’t fixed up a successor for Leo.”
“Not quite,” Richard said, “I’m hoping to conclude that in the next few days, but we’ll have to see.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The school year finally began. William was one of the group assigned to help the new boys find their way around. The task finally completed, he slipped away from his friends and made his way to Jim’s office.
“Great to see you,” Jim said, locking the changing room from the inside.
“You too, sir,” William said. “I’ve really missed you the past few weeks.”
Jim strolled back into the office and closed the door. He sat down, William standing in front of him.
“So how are you feeling now?” Jim enquired, looking lovingly at the boy.
“Great, thanks sir!” William said, giving Jim a beautiful smile. “I can’t wait to get started.”
Jim took in the sight before him, gently stroking William’s thighs. The boy had changed over the holiday; he looked more beautiful than ever. The changes weren’t anything major; his features a little more strongly defined, a noticeable huskiness in his voice, and at just over five foot six he was a fraction taller. Jim reached up, undoing the lad’s new school shorts and pushing them down over his hips. William’s was fully erect, his white briefs appearing fuller than they had previously. He pulled them down and smiled. The boy’s testicles had almost doubled in size during the holiday; puberty had finally started.
William’s above average height had not been an indication that he was an early bloomer. His parents were both tall; his father six foot three, his mother five foot ten; William simply took after them. Were the boy to grow to his father’s height, Jim noted, his long-term potential as a high jumper and hurdler would be considerably enhanced. He hoped that the changes he’d observed would signal an end to William’s injury problems, but it was too early to be sure of that.
“You’re growing up,” Jim said quietly, taking William’s testicles in his hand and gently weighing them. “But we mustn’t rush things. It’s been a while since you were able to train properly, so we’ll need to take things slowly to begin with. We’ve got the whole winter to get you right, so there’s no hurry.”
“Thanks, sir,” William said, still smiling.
Jim leaned forwards, taking the boy’s hard four inch penis fully into his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, easing back the foreskin and running his tongue over the small, shiny head.
“Oooh, sir!” William gasped, running his fingers through Jim’s hair. “Ohhhhh!”
Jim slipped his hand between William’s legs, a greasy finger pushing into the boy’s anus.
“Uhhhh!” William groaned, the sensations in his penis quite overwhelming.
Jim pulled away, licking his lips.
“Beautiful!” he cooed.
“Are you going to fuck me, sir?” William enquired.
“Is that what you want?” Jim asked.
“Yes sir!” William confirmed. “I love having your big cock inside me. I haven’t done anything all through the holiday; I never had chance.”
Jim stood up, placing the pillow on the desk. William bent down, positioning himself over it. Jim took his time, gently working KY into William’s bottom. After seven weeks the boy was wonderfully tight; maybe even tighter than Ryan had been; he didn’t want to hurt him more than necessary. But unlike Ryan, William knew what to expect. He wouldn’t scream, even if it was quite painful. Jim carefully inserted a second finger, working both fingers around to open the boy up. Finally, he pulled out; it was time to do it. He smeared KY over his penis and moved in close, guiding it onto William’s sphincter. He pushed hard. With one well-practised movement William relaxed and allowed him inside.
“Ohhhh!” he gasped, the sudden stab of pain quickly subsiding.
“Good boy!” Jim breathed, continuing to press forward.
He thrust over the lad’s prostate.
“Uhhhhh!” William moaned, a bolt of electricity arcing through his boyhood.
Instinctively Jim began to move, fucking the boy relentlessly, savouring the velvety warmth of the lad’s tight little bottom. William groaned and whimpered, the heady combination of pain and pleasure transporting him to a level hadn’t reached for months. Jim reached down, wrapping his hand around the boy’s throbbing prong.
“Ohhh, sir!” William gasped, shuddering uncontrollably, his sphincter clamping tight around the man’s thrusting penis.
A moment later William’s boyhood jerked into action swelling and pulsing between Jim’s fingers. Just a couple more thrusts and Jim’s orgasm followed. His balls rose in their sac; a moment later his penis reared up inside William’s bottom, several volleys of semen spurting deep into the boy’s rectum. Finally he withdrew. William turned to face him, his eyes sparkling.
“Thanks, sir!” he breathed, throwing his arms round Jim’s neck.
Jim drew him into a delicious, passionate kiss.
Ten minutes later, Jim unlocked the changing room door, sending William on his way. He was as high as he’d ever been; being joined to William again had fulfilled his every need. One-off sex with a boy like Ryan couldn’t come close.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim headed to the music rooms to spend his morning break with Richard.
“So have your plans come to fruition?” he enquired.
“Unfortunately not,” Richard responded. “I invited Patrick Naylor to accompany me to a concert in London, you know, my usual routine. He turned me down flat; very politely, of course, but he turned me down just the same. So I’m back to square one.”
“I guess he’d have known what going to a concert with you was all about,” Jim commented.
“Oh yes,” Richard confirmed. “Leo talked to him about it for one thing.”
“Oh, I see,” Jim said absently, noting that the music master’s modus operandi seemed quite different from his own.
“It’s not a complete surprise,” Richard continued. “I suspected since last term that it might not work out as I’d hoped.”
“Oh, why’s that?” Jim enquired.
“His father attended the summer concert,” Richard explained. “He came to talk to me afterwards; had his arm around Patrick’s shoulder. It appears that since his mother’s death, Patrick and his father have become very close. That’s never a good sign.”
“No, I guess not,” Jim said. “It always seems to be the waifs and strays that we end up with, the boys whose parents don’t care a lot.”
“Precisely!” Richard agreed. “We fulfil a need that their parents don’t.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was two weeks into the autumn term. All Jim’s classes were working well, though after six years at the school it was no less than he expected. In addition, the rugby team was looking exceptionally promising. With the unexpected addition of new boy Marcus Northam, who had been sent down from his previous prep school for fucking one of the younger lads, and Grant Shipway, whose transformation from fat slob to muscular powerhouse had been nothing short of remarkable, for once they had a pack that would be a match for any of their opponents. Feeding from them, the half back pairing of Toby Redman and Darren Proctor was working beautifully, and although the three-quarter line was a little lightweight, in left-wing Pascal Donnelly they had a player of real flair and quality, someone who could turn a match on his own.
To complete the picture, William was looking better than ever, showing no signs of tiredness or injury, and several times each week he and Jim had had wonderful, uninhibited sex. Things could hardly have been going better. Jim should have been more than satisfied, but he wasn’t. Despite everything, he hankered after the sort of clandestine encounter he’d had with Gavin the previous term. He was at a loss to explain it. He loved William; he’d never want to do anything to hurt him. He didn’t even mind that the boy was sharing his bed not only with Toby, but with new rugby captain Robert Shearsby. It was the lure of forbidden fruit. Having one boy whom you looked after was within ‘the rules’, acceptable, though not officially, of course. Having one-off sex with other boys wasn’t, and that made it an all too enticing proposition.
Jim had expected Gavin to come looking for him, to resume their liaison of the preceding summer term, but it hadn’t happened. On the contrary, the boy seemed to be avoiding him. Gavin trained with the third year rugby squad, but Andrew Farnham looked after them, and so apart from games and gym classes, he and Jim had no contact. It was all very frustrating.
Third year gym class concluded. As the boys headed back to the changing room to shower and dress, Jim put some things away in his office. He emerged a couple of minutes later to find Gavin prancing naked around the changing room. The boy was striking the most overtly sexual poses, to the amusement of some of his fellows and the embarrassment of others.
“Gavin!” Jim barked. “See me afterwards! I want a word with you”
As the other boys filed out to morning break, Gavin waited behind, sitting obediently on the bench. Jim didn’t bother to lock the door; he wasn’t about to do anything.
“That was quite a show you were putting on there,” he commented acidly.
“Yes sir,” Gavin said.
“Being naked is fine,” Jim said gently, “and if you get an erection you get an erection, but that got out of hand; some of the boys found it very embarrassing.”
“Sorry sir,” Gavin said. “I just got a bit carried away.”
“I haven’t seen much of you this term,” Jim continued. “I thought you might want to continue . . , you know, especially now Max isn’t here.”
“Oh, I do sir,” Gavin said, grinning, “but I want to find an older friend first. If I was doing it with you and then I found an older friend, they’d know, wouldn’t they?”
Jim couldn’t fault the boy’s reasoning; in all probability they would know. Then awkward questions might be asked. It might even get back to William; he didn’t want that.
“Fair enough,” he said, smiling.
“Of course, once they’ve done me a few times, they won’t be able to tell,” Gavin said, smirking.
“Well, I’d better wish you luck then,” Jim said, sending the lad on his way.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Lower fourth gym class trotted back to the changing room. The soon-to-be-twelve year olds were growing up just the way Jim liked them. He watched as they stripped out of their shorts and trotted through to the showers, taking particular note of fly half Darren Proctor, who looked more stunning than ever. The boy reappeared a couple of minutes later, picking up his towel and quickly drying himself; Jim couldn’t take his eyes off him. As Darren bent down to dry his feet, Jim saw it; the boy’s anus wasn’t just visible, it was noticeably dilated.
Jim became aroused in an instant. Darren hadn’t had an ‘older friend’ since Julian Lees’ departure at the end of the summer term. As virtually all the ‘older friends’ were members of the rugby team, Jim kept himself fully informed of these attachments, quite unlike music master Burman, who kept himself aloof from such matters. Jim wracked his brain. The only person he could think of was Marcus, but that seemed unlikely; having been thrown out of his previous school, Marcus was treading very warily. But someone was fucking the boy; there was no doubt about it.
Jim made a snap decision. He’d find out who was responsible then seduce the lad afterwards. It would be a risky enterprise with no guarantee of success, but he was determined to try it. The risks, he calculated, were manageable. Darren was quiet, and although he got on well with just about everybody, he didn’t have any really close friends that he associated with. As he returned to his place and began to get dressed, Jim came up behind him.
“Wait behind when the bell goes,” he said quietly. “I need to speak to you.”
He moved away from the boy, chastising the time-wasters and urging them to hurry up. He got his wish; by the time that the lunch bell rang everyone was ready to leave.
“Okay boys!” Jim announced. “You may leave quietly!”
They filed out, leaving Darren sitting on his own.
“You wanted to see me sir?” he said.
“Yes,” Jim said, locking the changing room door.
He returned to his office, ushering Darren inside. He sat down, the boy standing in front of him.
“I understand that you haven’t found yourself an older friend this term,” he said quietly.
“N-no sir,” Darren said nervously.
“Well, from what I saw just now,” Jim continued, smiling, “you’ve been getting very friendly with somebody.”
Darren looked agitated, shuffling from one foot to the other.
“Don’t worry,” Jim said soothingly, “you’re not in any trouble. But I do keep an eye on these things; I just need to know who it is.”
Darren didn’t respond, looking even more distressed.
“I can’t hear you, Darren,” Jim said, reaching forward to stroke the boy’s creamy white thighs. “I need to know.”
“It’s Robert, sir,” Darren admitted, looking at the floor.
“Is it now?” Jim said, trying to suppress a note of triumph. “I thought he was with Peter Cranham.”
“He is, sir,”
“So how did your little relationship come about?”
“Well, the thing is, sir, Peter turns up to the rugby matches and that, but he doesn’t take any interest, not really. He never tells Rob how well he’s played or anything like that; all he wants is sex.”
“Oh, I see,” Jim said, smiling. “So I guess that’s where you come in.”
“Yes sir,” Darren said, grinning sheepishly. “Rob and I really help each other.”
“Well, I can understand that,” Jim said, looking the boy right in the eye. “Isn’t Rob in charge of things this year?”
“Yes sir,” Darren confirmed.
“Hmmm! He’s not setting a very good example, is he?” Jim observed. “It’s to be hoped that nobody finds out. Does Peter know what’s going on?”
“I’m not sure, sir,” Darren said apprehensively.
“Of course,” Jim said, running his hand up to the bottom of Darren’s shorts, “you could have me as a friend too; I’d like that.”
“You want me, sir?” Darren asked, his eyes widening. “But what about William?”
“William doesn’t have to know, does he?” Jim said quietly, “like nobody has to know about you and Robert.”
“Oh, I see, sir,” Darren said nervously. “Well, if you want, sir.”
“Then next year, when Robert and William have left, you’d be my boy.” Jim continued. “Would you like that?”
“Yes sir,” Darren admitted.
“So meanwhile there’s no harm in us getting to know each other, is there?” Jim persisted.
“No sir,” Darren conceded.
“And nobody’s going to find out, are they?” Jim said.
“No sir,” Darren confirmed, “nobody.”
Jim reached up, undoing Darren’s shorts and easing them down. The boy’s underpants quickly followed. Jim examined them. There was a tell-tale stain.
“Robert fucked you last night?” Jim enquired.
“Yes sir,” Darren said, “Straight after supper; we went in the toilets by the science lab”
“Has he got a big cock?” Jim asked.
“Yes sir,” Darren agreed. “He’s much bigger than Julian was.”
There was no arguing with that; Jim had seen Robert naked several times that term; he was very well-endowed for a lad still a few days short of his thirteenth birthday, his penis second in size only to that of prop-forward Adam Hayward.
Jim wrapped his fingers around Darren’s erect penis, three and a half inches, slim and uncut, a little nozzle of foreskin sticking out past the tip. He licked his lips and leaned forwards, taking it fully into his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, working his tongue all over it, savouring its hardness. He squeezed KY onto his fingers, sliding his hand between Darren’s legs and locating his pucker. He pushed inside.
“Ooooh, sir!” Darren groaned, holding Jim’s head.
Instinctively, Darren began to pump his hips, fucking his boyhood into Jim’s mouth, the man’s finger still probing his anus. In just a few seconds he was there. He shuddered from head to toe, tightening his grip on Jim’s head to stop himself falling over. His penis swelled and jiggled, desperately trying to pump out the semen his balls had yet to make.
Realising how sensitive the boy would be, Jim let him go. He was surprised how quickly he’d brought the lad to orgasm, but it was of no concern. Darren would be ready for more in no time; boys like him always were.
“Did you like that?” Jim enquired,
“Yes sir,” Darren gasped, still struggling for breath.
“Excellent,” Jim declared, standing up. “Now I’m going to fuck you.”
He placed the pillow on his desk.
“Bend over,” he instructed, positioning the boy over it.
He stood back to survey his prize, the evidence of Robert’s recent penetration very much to the fore. He applied a little KY to his penis, moving in close to guide it onto the boy’s sphincter. With one well-practised thrust he penetrated him, pressing steadily forwards until his pubic hair was pressed tight against the lad’s bottom. He paused, marvelling at the boy’s velvety tightness.
“Oh sir!” Darren moaned. “You’re so big!”
“Yes,” Jim said, in a low growl. “And now you’re going to find out what a real fucking feels like.”
He set to work, driving his penis remorselessly into the lad’s rectum. Darren squeaked and whimpered, the mixture of pain and pleasure transporting him to heights he’d never believed possible, the intensity driving him almost insane. Once more, the man’s fingers wrapped themselves around his throbbing boyhood. He bucked wildly, his body wracked by the most powerful spasms he’d ever experienced. His anus snapped shut, clamping Jim’s penis like a vice, his stiff prong jerking and pulsing in the man’s hand. It was his second orgasm in less than five minutes; he slumped limply over the desk, totally drained.
“Good boy!” Jim whispered, his breathing raspy and irregular. “Now find out what I’ve got for you! Here it comes! Yes! Yes! Aaaarrrggghhh!!!!”
His penis jerked violently, sending volley after volley of thick creamy semen deep into the boy’s bottom. Finally he withdrew. For several seconds Darren remained exactly where he was. His anus twitched sharply, sending a trickle of semen dribbling down his legs. Very gingerly he stood up.
“Are you okay?” Jim asked gently.
“Yes sir, I think so,” Darren responded. “Nobody ever fucked me like that before.”
“You’d better use the toilet,” Jim instructed, handing the boy some cotton wool. “You know what this is for?”
“Yes sir,” Darren assured him. “I’ve got to put it in my pants so I don’t make a mess.”
He waddled awkwardly into the cubicle, his shorts and briefs still around his ankles. A few minutes later he re-appeared, fully dressed and smiling.
“That looks better!” Jim said, wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulder. He leaned forwards. Darren looked up at him, his mouth open, his tongue extended, their lips locking together in a passionate post-fuck kiss. After a minute they broke apart.
“That was great sir!” Darren said, his eyes sparkling. “Rob doesn’t like kissing.”
“Tomorrow morning, get up as soon as the bell goes,” Jim said quietly, repeating his usual mantra, “a little earlier if you can. As soon as you’re showered and dressed, come down here; make sure you’re here by ten past seven, okay? That’s going to be our regular time; I’ll want you here at that time every Thursday morning, understand?”
“Yes sir,” Darren replied, smiling. “I’ll be here!”
Jim unlocked the changing room door, watching with quiet satisfaction as Darren headed towards the refectory. Unlike the other Hartswood boys he’d been with, Darren hadn’t been presented to him on a plate; he’d had seduce the lad, which was not without its risks. But he’d pulled it off, and that was the sweetest feeling of all.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After the next third year gym class, Gavin’s behaviour was far more restrained. He was lively, as always, but did nothing to cause embarrassment. Jim watched him carefully, taking particular note of the back view. He smiled to himself; there were definite signs that the boy might have succeeded in his objective. As his classmates made there way out to break, Gavin hung back, pretending he needed to repack his bag. As soon as the changing room was empty he swaggered across to Jim.
“I’ve got an older friend now sir,” he said, smirking.
“Yes, I thought you might have,” Jim said knowingly. “So who’s the lucky boy?”
“Marcus,” Gavin said, a broad grin on his face.
“Oh, so Marcus has finally taken the plunge, has he?” Jim queried.
“Not exactly, sir,” Gavin said, frowning. “It was weird; Toby sort of introduced us.”
“Oh, did he now?” Jim responded, stifling a chuckle.
It was just the sort of thing Toby would do, Jim reflected. Since his arrival, Marcus had attached himself to Robert and Toby; Toby had decided to help the big lad out. Toby wasn’t actually in charge of anything; he wasn’t even universally popular, but his influence was enormous. If one of Toby’s friends needed something fixed, Toby would deal with it.
“Yes,” Gavin confirmed. “I’ve been with Marcus twice now and I’m seeing him again after supper, so I can start coming down here again if you want.”
“Very good!” Jim commented. “Tomorrow morning then; you know the time.”
“Yes sir!” Gavin said eagerly. “I’ll see you then!”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The pattern was established; Gavin on Tuesday mornings and Darren on Thursdays, neither of them knowing about the other. It was the perfect arrangement, completely satisfying Jim’s craving for danger, excitement and variety. While the unruly Gavin performed with almost animalistic enthusiasm, Darren was the most delightful paradox. Outwardly, he was boyish and confident, even somewhat aggressive, especially on the rugby pitch; sexually he was submissive and affectionate. The contrast between the boys could hardly have been more clearly defined.
In between times, sex with William got better with each passing week, Sunday mornings at the flat being the highlight. Jim fucked the boy in every position he could think of, with William always eagerly coming back for more. But their sexual activities were only part of it. Not only was William training well, his confidence was back, even stronger than before. That extended to his studies, where he was making excellent progress, as all Jim’s colleagues had noted. While not an outstanding student, William was on course to do very well in the Common Entrance examinations, a matter which had been in some doubt a few months earlier.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The half term break had come and gone. On the first day back, Jim entered the music room to find Richard Burman sitting at his desk, looking unusually pleased with life.
“Hello,” Jim said brightly. “You’re looking better; would I be right in thinking you’ve finally found a boy?”
“Yes, I have,” Richard said, beaming, “and not somebody I’d have ever dreamed of.”
“So who’s that?” Jim enquired.
“Peter Cranham,” Richard confided in hushed tones. “It was all most irregular. He approached me, asking if he could start a music appreciation society; he also suggested he could help me, you know, with stuff like sending out tickets for school concerts, that sort of thing. Of course, I told him he’d have to pull his socks up; I couldn’t allow him to do that if he was wasting his time in all his classes. He agreed quite readily, so I accepted his offer; and to be fair he's knuckled down very well. Anyway, to cut a long story short, that wasn’t all he was looking for.”
“Really?” Jim said. “I thought he was Robert Shearsby’s younger friend.”
“Was being the operative word,” Richard said. “It appears that Peter would rather be with me, while Robert . . .”
“Would rather be with Darren Proctor,” Jim interrupted.
“Oh, you knew about that?” Richard queried.
“Oh, I have my sources too, you know,” Jim said, grinning.
“Peter’s family live near Clapham Common,” Richard continued. “During half term he visited me at my flat in Belgravia. It was quite remarkable. It’s not often that boys tire me out, but he certainly did.”
“Sounds amazing,” Jim commented. “No wonder you’re looking so pleased with yourself.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Several weeks passed; Jim was busier than ever. Sitting in his office during a rare non-teaching period, there was a knock on the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to find Richard Burman standing there.
“Come in,” he said brightly. “What brings you here?”
“Something untoward has occurred,” the music master said, in hushed tones, closing the door. “It appears that Mr. Thompson has got into a relationship with Martin Greenhall, of all people. Yesterday morning he went back to Mr. Thompson’s apartment in the gatehouse, after cross-country training I believe, only on this occasion he took Patrick Naylor with him. Ostensibly they were watching some races on the television, but when Patrick looked across, Martin had his shorts and pants down and Mr. Thompson was playing with him. All of which resulted in Patrick leaving the apartment in something of a hurry. I also understand that Mr. Thompson may have had other boys there, though I’m not certain about that.”
“Oh dear!” Jim said. “I had no idea. How did you find out?”
“Confidential sources,” Richard said airily. “I can’t say any more than that. Actually, I did have an idea; Gordon briefed me when Mr. Thompson first arrived. I had a casual chat with him, but he told me he was engaged to be married, and from what the boys were telling me, he was a wonderful teacher and that was it, so I rather took my eye off the ball.”
“Oh,” Jim said inconsequentially. “I’m not totally surprised about Martin; I know Mike thinks a lot of him.”
“Well, it seems there’s not too much damage done,” Richard continued. “Patrick’s not making a fuss. However, I’ve arranged to go and see Mr. Thompson in his apartment this afternoon, your old apartment in fact, just to let him know how we do things. I think it would be useful if you came along; you probably know him better than I do. I’ve arranged to see him just after five.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jim said. “I’ll be there.”
As Richard left the office, Jim sat in his chair, rather annoyed that he hadn’t spotted the young maths master’s proclivities.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim attended the meeting with Richard and Mike Thompson, but his presence was of little consequence. Mike had made a mistake, believing that Patrick was fully aware of why Martin visited the apartment so frequently, which was not the case. But as Patrick hadn’t complained, no damage had been done. Jim and Richard filled in their younger colleague on the Hartswood way of doing such things and left it at that.
Christmas was approaching rapidly. The rugby team had gone through the term unbeaten, an unprecedented achievement, highlighted by a convincing win against an admittedly rather ordinary Queen Elizabeth’s side, a team they’d never previously beaten. More remarkably, in wet conditions that had made running rugby almost impossible, they’d squeaked a narrow victory against a very good Martlington team, though only because the Martlington place-kicker missed several attempts at goal that Pascal would have landed with his eyes shut.
Back at school after the Christmas holidays, things continued in much the same way. The home fixture against Queen Elizabeth’s came up in early February. Queen Elizabeth’s began brightly, as though eager to reassert their authority, but in front of their own supporters, the Hartswood boys repelled the challenge with ease, recording an even more emphatic victory than they had the previous term.
After the match, the team’s reception was tumultuous. Jim was congratulated by all and sundry, including both John Halford and Gordon Chambers. Luck had played its part; Jim knew that they would rarely have a pack as powerful as their current one. Even so, victories like this were the product of seven years hard, dedicated work; Jim took great pride in knowing that he’d made such achievements possible.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The Common Entrance Examinations took place shortly after the half term break. At Jim’s instigation, William had put in an application to Marlborough College. Apart from Millfield School, sports scholarships were something of a rarity. Although the obvious choice for the outgoing Russell Pearson, Jim considered Millfield, co-educational and very large, not to be an environment in which William would thrive. As far as athletics was concerned, Marlborough was the only other option. The fees, of course, were exorbitant. If William did not obtain a scholarship it was most unlikely that he would be able to go there.
At Jim’s request, John Halford made the necessary enquiries. They were told that William would first need to win a place based on his performance in Common Entrance. If he did that, the college would advise them as to what athletic standards the boy would need to reach in order to be awarded a scholarship.
The examinations at an end, William seemed happy that he’d done himself justice. Jim just hoped he was right. The die was cast; all they could do was wait.
With the athletics season approaching, it was time for William’s training to move into its next phase. There was a problem, however. William hadn’t hurdled in almost a year, and although the weather was becoming warmer, the grass was still far too damp for him to hurdle at school. Instead, on Tuesday afternoons when the rugby team didn’t train, Jim took him to the athletics track ten miles away. Within a couple of sessions, William was displaying all his earlier promise. Although these trips compounded Jim’s already busy schedule, they did offer one important compensation. After each session ended, there was always time for them to visit Jim’s flat before returning to school, allowing for some far more uninhibited love-making than was possible in the confines of the games master’s office.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Term was coming to close. Going into their final match, the rugby team remained unbeaten, played seventeen, won seventeen, just one win away from a perfect season. Their final fixture was away at Martlington County Grammar School. Unlike the wet conditions they’d endured when the teams met before Christmas, the pitch was excellent and the weather sunny and moderately warm, with very little breeze. It suited Martlington perfectly. In the earlier match the muddy pitch and greasy ball had negated the speed and skill of their three-quarter line; on this occasion they simply ran riot, the Hartswood boys having the hurl themselves this way and that to try to contain them. Although Pascal’s kicking kept the scores close, it was not enough; Martlington were simply too good, in Jim’s estimation one of the best teams he had ever encountered.
In a way it was a relief. Completing a perfect season would have been a burden for all the teams that would follow; anything less might have been thought of as failure. Their loss in this final match left open at least the possibility of some future team going one better.
Early the following morning Jim and William were together at the man’s flat, much as they were every Sunday. They were fucking, William lying on his back, his legs up, his feet resting on Jim’s shoulders, Jim kneeling in front of him, his penis thrusting relentlessly into William’s bottom. Jim resisted the temptation to push down between William’s legs in order to kiss him; by remaining upright he could fuck the boy much harder, something they both enjoyed.
William’s breathing shortened. He began to tremble, his fingers clawing at the bed, his eyes shut tight. A moment later, his penis jerked into action, three little jets of watery fluid spraying out over his chest and tummy.
“Oh, sir, sir!” William gasped. “I’ve done it! I’ve cum!”
Jim was elated; it was William’s first ejaculation, one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. With his birthday at the end of April, William was not quite thirteen and so it had not arrived unduly late. And it was an important milestone, marking the lad’s passage from boyhood to adolescence.
Jim increased his thrusting. Within seconds his orgasm was upon him. He fully impaled the boy, depositing yet another creamy load deep inside the lad’s rectum. Slowly and carefully he withdrew, laying William’s legs gently down on the towel that he’d placed beneath him. He immediately lay down, eagerly licking the little drops of fluid from William’s body. Moments later they kissed.
“You’ve still got it in your mouth, sir!” William said, eyes sparkling. “I can taste it!”
“It tastes of you,” Jim whispered, “the most wonderful taste in the whole world. You’re a very special boy, William, the most special I ever met.”
Once more, their lips met in a sensuous, passionate kiss.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Back at school after the Easter holiday, the athletics season began in earnest. Jim found himself facing a new challenge. The age groups for athletics dictated that in all important competitions William would have to compete against boys a year older. If he was to do that successfully, he would need to prepare, and that would involve going to other meetings where he could gain some experience. The couple of matches against other prep schools that they regularly took part in would not be adequate. In previous years, the summer term had provided Jim with rather more free time. This year it wouldn’t; it was as simple as that.
They also maintained their weekly training sessions at the athletics track, moving them from the afternoon to the early evening, which enabled Jim to work with the other boys before they left. They still found time to visit Jim’s flat before returning to school, opportunities of which they took full advantage.
Jim planned out William’s programme of competitions, aiming everything towards the Sussex Schools’ Championships, to be held in Brighton on the second weekend in June. Almost every week William was competing somewhere, South London, Brighton, or even further afield. It soon became apparent that when it came to the Sussex Schools, William would not win the hurdles. Ezra Campbell, a member of the Brighton club, was just as proficient over the hurdles as William, but being a year older he was stronger and faster. Unless the lad had a very bad race, the best William could hope for was second.
High jump was a different matter. William won all his competitions, including the Sussex AAA Boys’ Championship where he set a new school record of 1.75 metres, (five feet nine). Jim knew that William could jump higher, but the breezy, showery weather they had endured had prevented it. How much higher the lad could go was impossible to say.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Jim was sitting in John Halford’s office, the letter from Marlborough College having finally arrived. William had done well enough in Common Entrance for them to offer him a place. In order to be awarded a half-fee athletics scholarship he would have to run a time of 12.2 seconds for the eighty metres hurdles or clear 1.83 metres in the high jump, no later than the weekend of the county schools’ championships.
The hurdles standard was unachievable. William’s fastest time was thirteen seconds flat; to improve by almost a second was out of the question. The high jump standard, a fraction over six feet, though certainly tough was an altogether more realistic prospect.
“You’ll obviously give William the letter telling him he’s got a place,” Jim said. “I’d rather we didn’t give him the other one; it just creates unnecessary pressure.”
“Fair enough,” John replied. “I’ll give that one to you for safe keeping. If he asks about the scholarship, tell him we’re working on that, just keep it vague.”
A few days later, they received the timetable for the Sussex Schools’ Championships. The junior boys’ hurdles and junior boys’ high jump would both take place on the Sunday; the hurdles in the morning, the high jump in mid afternoon.
Jim was surprised the following morning when Toby came to see him.
“Sir, you know Will’s competing down in Brighton a week on Sunday?” Toby asked, getting straight to the point. “Would I be able to come and watch?”
“Yes, if you want,” Jim responded.
William and Toby had been friends since the day they’d started; he simply couldn’t think of any reason to refuse.
“Should I take my camera, sir?” Toby continued.
“You can if you want,” Jim said casually, “but you won’t be able to get in close like you do when you’re filming sports day.”
“I’ll leave it then” Toby said. “I still want to come and watch though”
“That’s fine,” Jim told him.
Toby sauntered off. Even though he’d known the boy for nearly five years, Jim still found it difficult to comprehend how he handled himself with such confidence. He’d breezed in, asked for what he wanted and got it. It was what he did.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Needing to reach Brighton by ten o’clock, they set off shortly after breakfast. Everyone was very quiet. That was the way Jim wanted it; it allowed William to stay focussed on what he needed to do. They arrived right on schedule. The conditions were perfect, warm and sunny with hardly a breath of wind. If William failed to reach the required standard there would be no excuses.
The junior boys’ hurdles was the second track event, so William had to begin his warm-up almost immediately. Jim and Toby sat in the stand, waiting for the event to begin. Toby asked a few questions, but apart from that there was no conversation at all. Jim could sense an atmosphere, a tension in the air, a sense that Toby didn’t understand his relationship with William, maybe didn’t even approve of it. He brushed it off; he had more important things to concentrate on.
There were two heats for the junior boys’ hurdles. William quite comfortably won the first one; Ezra Campbell won the second in a much faster time. They’d meet in the final an hour later. It all went off exactly as Jim had predicted, with Ezra Campbell winning the race and William finishing second, and although William ran a personal best, his time of 12.7 seconds was well outside the standard that Marlborough had asked for.
After the presentation William returned to the stand. Toby congratulated him enthusiastically then retreated into his shell, the uneasy atmosphere still evident. After an hour, William went to warm up for the high jump, Jim and Toby moving to sit on the grass opposite the high jump area in order to get a better view. The competition was intense and the standard very high. With the bar at 1.80 metres, there were still four boys left in, William and three others. William cleared it first time, as did one of the other boys. Another boy cleared on his second attempt; the remaining boy had three failures.
The bar was raised to 1.83 metres; there were three boys left. Jim’s heart was racing; this was it, the crucial height. All three boys failed their first attempt. The first boy to jump failed his second attempt too. Then it was William’s turn. After what seemed like ages, he ran up and cleared it.
“Yes!” Jim exploded, clenching his fist.
He could scarcely contain his emotions. Everything that he and William had been through together, all the work they’d put in, had finally come to fruition; there was no better feeling in the world. For William, his boy, to have achieved such a feat was all he’d ever wanted.
The other boys failed their remaining attempts, leaving William as the winner. After a word with the judge he asked for the bar to be raised to 1.85 metres. At his second attempt he cleared that too. It was the icing on the cake.
After the presentation he trotted across to Jim and Toby, his medal around his neck. He flopped down next to Jim, a big smile on his face.
“Well done,” Jim said quietly, “You’ve just won a scholarship to Marlborough College.”
He handed William the letter.
“I didn’t tell you about this before,” Jim explained. “I didn’t want to put you under pressure.”
William read the letter excitedly. He threw his arms round Jim.
“Thanks sir! Thanks!” he gasped, tears of joy running down his face. “This is fantastic!”
He jumped up, bouncing across to Toby and hugging him too. It was a scene of sheer happiness.
“Well done, sir” Toby said when they’d finally recovered themselves. He was smiling warmly, his hand extended. “I didn’t get it before, you know,” he continued candidly. “I understand now.”
“Thanks Toby,” Jim said quietly, accepting Toby’s handshake and ruffling his hair.
In a strange way, Toby’s approbation was important. Toby was highly intelligent, a thinker, a boy who made up his own mind. Following his experience with Mr. Atkinson, Toby had found it hard to accept his relationship with William. He’d finally understood what it was all about.
It was time to return to school. Had Toby not been with them they would almost certainly have stopped off at Jim’s flat, but it didn’t matter. It had been a long, tiring day. Back to school it was.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
At eight o’clock the following morning, Jim strode into John Halford’s office, William’s medals in his hand.
“He’s got his scholarship,” he said curtly.
“Excellent,” John said enthusiastically. “How high did he jump?”
“One metre eighty five,” Jim told him. “That’s six feet one.”
“And how tall is he?” John queried.
“Five feet eight,” Jim told him.
“So he jumped five inches above his own head?”
“That’s remarkable,” John said, shaking his head. “It makes me giddy just thinking about it.”
In assembly an hour later, William’s medals were re-presented in front of the whole school, the announcement of the scholarship being made at the same time. As ever, John Halford was keen to draw out the significance of the boy’s achievement
“What many of you probably don’t know,” he said in his usual quiet, authoritative tone, “is that last year William spent several months injured, hardly able to do anything. The important thing is he didn’t give up. He stuck in there and this year he got back into his training and now he’s reaped the reward.”
William wiped away a tear. If Jim hadn’t been there for him he would have given up; that was the really important thing.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The rest of the term passed almost in a blur. Quiet, unassuming William found his newly acquired status as one of the school’s stars a rather surreal experience; He just couldn’t think of himself like that. He was only glad that it was a burden he wouldn’t have to carry for long. Sports Day was a triumph, with a string of excellent performances, and Toby’s film of it the best he’d ever made.
Finally it was over. William’s parents attended the leavers’ reception. Nice people, Jim thought, even if they had stayed somewhat aloof from their son’s upbringing; William seemed genuinely fond of them. His mother spoke to Jim at length, thanking him effusively for all the help he’d given. Jim wondered how effusive her thanks would have been had she knows just how close his relationship with William had been, but it was of no concern; she didn’t know, and at that stage she wasn’t going to find out.
As the gathering broke up, Jim’s feelings were very confused. He was enormously proud of what William had achieved; it had been his pleasure and privilege to contribute to the boy’s success. But he watched sadly as William left Hartswood Priory for the last time, his parents’ car disappearing through the gate. When, he wondered, would he meet another boy to match him?