Disclaimer.
Of course the usual disclaimer is needed. This novel is a work of fiction. School, boys and adults only exist in the mind of the author. Sometimes sex, sexual acts and so on will be there. If it is against the law of your country or it will shock your parents don't read it. If you have an open mind and some knowledge about life, have fun! Of course the story is under copyright © 2006.
For them who like to email me: dutchb14@icqmail.com
Hillhurst Prep School.
Back in my apartment I walk straight to my bed room and crawl between the sheets. My penis is still hard and the first signs of blue balls are there. I lie down on my stomach. My hand goes to my penis to adjust it to a comfortable position. When I touch the head a tiny electric shock rushes through it. I press my penis lightly against the mattress and start moving up and down. Again I notice the benefits of an intact penis. The foreskin is gliding back and forth with each thrust up and down. Thanks to the cooper glands there is enough fluid to make it all very easy, comfortable and exciting. I feel horny, very horny now. Millions of nerves in connection with my brain increase my excitement by the second. There it is, my balls jump to my body and my sperm is travelling to its destination. Lustful I slow down my thrusts and the pressure against the mattress. Now this magic, almost painful itching increases rapidly. On more thrust and the point of no return is there. Six times a teaspoon of fruitful fluid shoots out of my penis and lands in my nightshirt. Than it is finally over. Relaxing I wait till my breathing is normal again. Being all wet and sticky now I need to take shower before going to sleep. The warm water caressing my body is another lustful experience. While soaping my crotch I notice again how sensitive the male jewels right after orgasm and ejaculation. Clean as a whistle and dressed in a fresh nightshirt I jump in bed again. Another memorable day is history.
Seven o'clock in the morning the usual procedure starts again. Waking up the boys. Jamie's hug and natural kiss on my cheek is there. Andrew winks telling me in that way he is ok. Breakfast together and than off to class. Several free hours till lunchtime are waiting for me. I walk to the school administration and to give notice I'll be out of the house for the rest of the morning. Than I go outside and drive to the village for a sight seeing so to speak. I park my car in the centre opposite the church. Somewhere to my right I hear some noise and I decide to go there and see what's happening. It turns out to be a regional school and the noise comes from the pupils in their interval time. Somewhere between hundred say hundred and fifty kids are gathered on the playground. As a sociologist may be I look at them with different eyes than others. What I see is disturbing anyway. All boys are dressed in those baggy "uniforms" declared and sold as fashion by the clothes manufacturers. Everything at least two sizes larger than needed, hiding body parts and shape. Two groups are standing there, in separation. In the first place those kids who are wearing ridiculous expensive so called top-brand gear. The other group wears the same type of clothing but from a B shop. They all are shouting as loud as possible and some are fighting in the most aggressive way. No teacher is looking after them and there is no sign of discipline what so ever. This is the result of a lost battle. A battle deciding years ago to wear school uniforms or not. It started with opposition against short trousers and it ended by banning the uniform from almost every school in the country. No boys are there anymore. Small and ridiculous imitations of adults are there nowadays. No longer able to play together. Christ, let's preserve the few schools in the country which are able to resist the rules described by firms as Nike, Puma and Rucanor; all making lots of dirty money by exploitation of young children in third world countries. Walking along the playground several remarks are made. I've no intention to repeat them all, let's say – queer – was the most decent phrase.
A hundred meters further I see a nice and big house with a large front garden. In that garden my eyes catch a statue of a naked boy. It's a beautiful bronze of a twelve years old model I guess. I notice the gate is open and I can't resist the temptation to enter the garden to have a closer look. Slowly moving myself I study the statue on all sides. It is very well made indeed. While looking at the face I jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Looking back I see a tall man smiling at me. "Do you like it?" he asks.
"Oh yes, very much", I reply, "it is very beautiful and so was the boy I guess".
"Well the boy is still beautiful and I can be sure of that because I'm his father! You're from Hillhurst I presume".
We shake hands and introduce ourselves.
"May I offer you a cup of coffee Colin?" he asks.
Together we walk to the house and besides the front door I see a sign-board. Johann Weinberger, Artist, Portraits, landscapes and statues, I read. Inside the house we walk straight to the workshop. "You look around and I will make some coffee. Is Nescafe all right?"
"Sure no problem, I make that myself every morning", I reply. Slowly I walk around. There is a complete wall with landscapes on display. Most of them I do like indeed. However the next wall is covered with boy paintings. Not only boys in their Hillhurst uniform but also in the nude. All boys still preteens but on the edge of puberty. No body hair what so ever but well developed genitals already. Than I suddenly feel shocked. On the wall I see Lars, my boy Lars. Two paintings of him are there; one while wearing his uniform and the second one posing naked. I take a closer look to the second one and I notice how cute Lars really is. So far for me a boy clothed in a short pants suit or school uniform completed with a pair of knee socks, was the ultimate erotic picture for me. However looking at Lars' nudity my body down there tells me this is an exciting view as well. Blood fills my penis rapidly and to my embarrassment my short trousers are clearly tenting due to my lively tent pole. I touch the painting with my fingertips and immediately feel light electric shocks inside my dickhead giving me great pleasure at the same time.
"He is cute, isn't he?" I hear suddenly.
I almost jump to the ceiling; I had no idea Weinberger was already there. "Yes, he is not only cute; he also has a lot of sex appeal to my body and brains. He is a member of my school group, by the way".
"Well he is my nephew, I can say. His father is my ex-wife's brother. My son Helmut and Lars used to be very close some time ago. However Helmut is no longer here, he was forced to live with his mother when we had to separate".
"Oh, I am sorry to hear that", I say, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No", he replies, "May be we can talk about it later on. Let's talk about Lars this time".
Together we go and sit down at a table in the centre of the workshop. Coffee is waiting there and in silence we enjoy the bitter sweet beverage. I watch all the boy paintings on the wall and discover Lars is the only boy I can recognize.
"What's your impression on Lars", he asks.
"Well", I answer thoughtfully, "He is different from the other boys. A bit on the feminine side I should say and a bit of a loner too. He certainly is not trying to get his own place in the group he lives in. Incidentally I am going to give him some personal attention this evening".
Weinberger looks at me for some time. I notice he has very friendly and understanding eyes with a kind of soft expression in it so to speak. "I suggest you ask to bring his sketch book", he says, "I promise you, you're going to be surprised and impressed. And by the way I am pretty sure he will try to seduce you into some kind of sexual act and I suggest you don't push him away from you. His sexual preference is boys and men, no doubt about that. You are right he is a loner now a day and besides your educational attention he is in need of your affection even more. Don't be afraid, by the way, I can assure you he will never tell anybody what eventually has happened between the two of you".
My watch tells me it is 11.30. "Time to go back", I say, "almost lunchtime". I reach out my hand to my host but he ignores. Instead of a handshake he hugs me very tight and gives me a kiss on my lips. "Oh Colin", he says, "Give yourself a chance to be happy".
Driving back to Hillhurst a thousand thoughts are crossing my mind. What a remarkable morning, I say to myself.
Just in time I arrive for lunch. The boys are in the bathroom already to wash their hands and after that we walk together to the school-cafeteria to eat our lunch. The usable small talk is going on and an hour later everybody is back to the classrooms again. I return to my apartment and take some rest before the rest of my working day will start again. Daydreaming I listen to the disc of my favourite choirboy. His pure and high treble voice touches my heart and soul again. In fact it isn't important what he sings; it's the way he is singing. I can feel in all parts of mind and body the sensitive way he performs his art. All his deepest feelings existing in his soul are integrated in his music. Sometimes I shiver and I can't help a single tear leaves my eye to find its way along my cheek. It makes me feel very happy at the same time although I realize myself it's not the kind of happiness Weinberger mentioned on my way out of his workshop. I light a cigarette and inhale the smoke deep into my lungs. Bad and unhealthy habit, sure, but let's say some sins make life even more attractive!
Footsteps and boy voices tell me classes are over and I have to pay attention to my, also attractive, group of schoolboys. Today it's our turn to use the indoor swimming pool so soon after our tea and biscuits we are on our way. A quick and cold shower for everybody and in no time at all everybody including me is splashing around in the body warm water. There is a lot of fooling around and grabbling under the water surface going on. Several times I feel my penis and scrotum touched by an uninvited hand in combination with a laughing boy. Of course I would be the last one to make a big deal out of it; not in the last place I like it anyway. While leaning on the edge of the basin with my elbows Lars approaches me and leans against my full body. His genitals lightly touch mine and immediately I understand this youngster is able to seduce almost every person. I look into his eyes and smile at him. The meeting of our private parts only gives a smooth and tickling sensation and is therefore highly erotic. Both dickies are flaccid but nevertheless this is a sexual act pur sang. "See you tonight", I say to him, "and don't forget to bring your sketchbook".
Lars' face changes rapidly from dreamily to highly surprise. "How do you know about my sketchbook sir?" he asks. "Never mind now; I'll explain to you tonight. OK?"
"Ok sir, thanks", he says, "Love you". Than he dives away squeezing my balls just a little bit too hard to make it pleasurable. The rest of the evening goes on normal and soon its bedtime again. On my wink Lars walks out of the dorm in his spotless nightshirt; his sketchbook under his arm. Night kisses are exchanged and with a loving "Good Night pals", I turn off the lights and leave the dormitory; to my apartment where Lars is waiting for me.