ONE DAY

 

A man-boy story by Ivor Sukwell, and all the usual disclaimers apply, so if you read when you know you shouldn't read, please don't blame me.

This story is told in the first person by both characters, the characters being differentiated by the font – I hope that does not cause too much confusion.

 

I knew what that look meant; the fractionally widening of the eyes and then an attempt at indifference, as though it wasn't obvious that he was trying to imagine what I'd look like without my clothes on.

I've seen that look on the faces of loads of men, and like any other kid of fourteen, I knew exactly what it meant. Okay, loads of kids, perhaps even most, would pretend they didn't, or, if they were the loud type, mutter, just loud enough to be heard, `Pervert' or `pedo', or something else to indicate they weren't interested in being mentally undressed by some guy or other, even if they dreamed of that at night when they wanked.

I didn't, I just let then look, cos I know I'm bent as arseholes and I likes guys looking at me and wishing they could see me naked. I guess I've known I was that way since I first started wanking seriously, I dunno, praps when I was eleven or twelve or something, certainly before I could shoot, and to be honest, it don't bother me none as long as it's only me what knows it. If me mates at school knew I wanked to thoughts of cock, cock in my mouth, cock spunking in my mouth, cock up me bum and fucking me senseless, then I'd get the shit kicked out of me more than like, and definitely not have no mates no more.

Course, I never knew what it was them men what looked at me that way was after, not to start with, an' I spose I was in Year Eight, like getting on for being thirteen, when I cottoned on to it being me cock and me bum what they was thinking of. Course, by then I knew what it was that men wanted boys for, I've seen loads of porn, what kid of twelve and thirteen hasn't? but I'd never put the look in them men's eyes together with what I saw men doing with boys in porn.

There are men what does them things for real, I ain't stupid and I knows that; the papers and stuff is full of men what molests boys, ain't they, but I just hadn't cottoned on to the idea that men should want to do them things with me.

Course, I sorta wished there were, cos I reckon I wouldn't have no objections to a bloke molesting me, but I'd much rather bugger about with a boy, and there was quite a few in school what I spose I'd looked at in that way, but no-one had seemed to notice, I spose cos boys don't think of other boys fancying them. I mean, we's all told we gotta be on the look out for pedos, but no-one ever says that the kid sitting next to you in class might fancy getting his cock up yer bum, do they?

Then, and I spose it just sorta happened in the summer holidays, I got the idea that men did actually fancy me and loads of them wouldn't have minded getting their hands in me pants, and, I gotta be honest, that well turned me on. I mean, even blokes what was with their wives and stuff, gave me the once over, and I started to realise that I must be at least a bit sexy for them to look at me that way, and that turned me on a bit more, them thinking I was sexy enough to fancy, even if it was only from a distance.

Anyway, I were a bit surprised when I spotted he were looking at me like that. I mean, I'd sat in his classes since Year Seven, and I knew he ain't never had that look in his eyes when he glanced at me before, so why now?

Course, I is a bit older, I spose, like just started Year Ten, and I knows I've grown a bit in the summer holidays, sorta got a bit taller and filled out a bit as well, like I'm a proper teenager now, not some little kid. Me cock's done a bit of growing as well, like it's a good five inches now, and getting a bit thick when it's all hard, so it's ace to wank now cos there's much more of it to wank, and I really does want someone to wank it for me now. I mean really want someone to wank it, not just think it might be nice, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, it were like he couldn't take his eyes off me; oh, yeah, he didn't make it obvious or nothing, he just carried on trying to teach French to a bunch of kids what didn't have no interest In learning French, but his eyes kept coming back to me, and I just knew he were wondering what me cock was like.

The thing is, I didn't mind him wondering that, I mean, why shouldn't he? Like, till I spotted his giving me that look, I'd been wondering what Reece Maggs's cock was like, hadn't I?

Reece Maggs is in Year Nine, so he's thirteen, a year younger than me, and he's fucking gorgeous! I mean, real blond hair, green eyes, and a mouth you just know would suck cock to perfection. I mean, if I had the balls to make a move on a boy I'd jump on Reece Maggs and no messing!

So now me French teacher is looking at me and I know he's thinking the same about me as what I'm thinking about Reece Maggs, and if I hadn't been thinking about Reece Maggs I probably wouldn't have given me French teacher a tiny smile when he looked at me, cos, after all, he was me teacher, weren't he.

My first thought was `why have I never noticed Jason Price before?' The boy had been in my French classes since he came to the school, I had taught him for three years and he'd never attracted my attention before.

Of course, he'd grown a bit over the summer holidays, all boys do, and what he had between his legs had probably grown a bit as well, was pumping out nice, thick boy cream now, more of it now that there would have been in July when the summer holidays started.

Jason Price hadn't just added a bit more body though, there was something else about him as well, something probably never noticed by anyone who is not attracted to boys, and I am very definitely attracted to boys.

That's why I'd gone into teaching; I had no real interest in teaching boys French, or even the intelligent one some Italian as well, but I did have a very real interest in having classfuls of adolescent boys sitting in front of me for five days a week.

They didn't really do anything for me until they were at least in Year Nine, thirteen and heading on to fourteen, fourteen being, in my opinion, the perfection of boy adolescence.

At fourteen, a boy has grown enough to no longer be a child, he is starting to turn slowly into a man, and as he does that slow turn, he becomes perfect for enjoyment. Boys of fourteen are packed full with hormones and those hormones give them urges and a desire to experiment, to indulge in some of the things their bodies want them to indulge in. Year Ten and Year Eleven classes stink of boy pheromones, a miasma of unspurted spunk hangs in the air, and hard-ons sprout everywhere, unbidden and sometimes leaking.

Of course, being a teacher, I can only sniff the atmosphere and never touch the goods, but on holiday, in Italy, the goods are there to be touched. Fourteen year old boys with more sperm in their balls than they can cope with, on holiday, free to experiment and enjoy being fourteen year old boys, safe in the knowledge that anything they do experiment with can be left behind when they climb on the plane home.

Boys of fourteen are, to me, perfection. Their cocks have grown large enough to enjoy, they still do not have too much in the way of pubic hair – who wants to suck a hairy cock when less hairy ones are available – and, Italian boys in particular, seem to have legs smooth as silk at fourteen, though at sixteen they have as much hair on them as a monkey.

And, of course, Italian boys are legal at fourteen. I take my camper van to Italy every summer holiday, and never yet have I had to go hunting for boys. A smile and a nod to some delicious, partially clad item on a beach or in the sea, and chances are that item will be in my camper van bed before his holiday is anywhere near over.

Jason Price, I was sure, had discovered sex during his summer holiday. I didn't think he had discovered sex in a practical way, he still seemed totally virgin, but he most definitely had somehow discovered that he was sexy and he liked being sexy.

If he'd been on a beach in Italy, I was certain a smile and a nod would have had him rushing to my camper van bed, but he wasn't on holiday in Italy, he was in my classroom in Hampshire, and all I could do was wonder what his cock was like and how his spunk would taste.

And then he noticed me looking at him and he gave me a fractional smile and I knew he knew I was wondering those things, and he wasn't the least bit bothered by that.

I gave him the tiniest of winks to let him know that I knew he knew, and that I wasn't going to say anything if he wasn't, and carried on pretending to teach French to a class or fourteen year old boys who would all have much preferred to be kicking a ball about or wanking.

Fuck! He saw me little smile and he gave me a tiny wink! What the fuck had he done that for?

Then I started thinking, and, bloody hell, how is it possible for a tiny wink to say all the things I was thinking it said? He knew I'd busted him wondering what me cock was like and he'd busted me an' all, cos he knew I didn't mind him wondering that, and he'd told me not to worry, cos he weren't gonna do nothing about it, so it were a sorta secret between us!

Me French teacher wanted to get at me cock, and I sorta didn't mind if he did!

I got this funny feeling in me stomach for a bit, and then it dawned on me that he thought I was well sexy, cos I knew he never looked at any of the other kids in me class like that, so he must reckon I were the one he fancied getting cock off most.

I couldn't help it, I just got this huge grin and me cock went well hard at the same time. Christ! If he told me to stand up now, everyone would see I had a bone on and I'd be the laughing stock of the fucking school!

Course, he never got me to stand up, and I don't spose he knew I'd got a bone, so I was safe, for now, anyway.

Course, I weren't proper safe cos me mate had seen me grin and he wanted to know what that was all about, so I said it weren't nothing, just something that had happened at the weekend.

Well, Mr Kevil must have ears like a bleeding bat cos he heard me and said that it was obviously something funny cos I were grinning and it were only fair the whole class should get in on the joke, so I made something up about taking me dog for a walk and he'd pissed on a fence. Course, Mr Kevil said dogs pissed on fences, so what was so funny about that and I said it was an electric fence, sir, and everyone collapsed in heaps of laughter at the thought of me dog getting an electric shock from the fence, through his piss and up to his cock.

"This is a French lesson, Price," Mr Kevil said, "So next time you have a joke to tell, do it in French."

Course, this set everyone off again, didn't it. Cos `doing it French' only meant one thing to a class of fourteen year old kids, and that was snogging with your mouth open, so it was near enough a dirty joke to get us all going.

Well, that got me thinking what it'd be like to do French kissing with Reece Maggs, and no way was my bone gonna go down while I was thinking that! Course, I ain't not never French kissed anyone, ain't even done ordinary, mouth shut kissing with anyone either, so I didn't really know what it would be like, just that if it was Reece Maggs it'd be well sexy, no matter what it was like. I shifted about a bit, trying to get me cock comfortable, cos it was a real bone what I had, and it had got itself trapped in me briefs, and bugger me if Mr Kevil didn't see me trying to get a bit more comfortable and he looked at me again and just raised his eyebrows before turning away and starting to talk in French.

"Qu'est-ce qu'on donne des chiens, Price? Oui, les os Price, les os." He said, turning back and talking directly to me, "What's French for `bone' Price?"

"L'os, sir," I managed, my face going bright red. The bugger knew I had a hard on and was telling me he knew!

"J'esp�re que ce sera un bon os juteux, assez pour que votre chien se bouche quand vous le lui donnez," he said to me, and I went even redder; I mean, a teacher shouldn't say things like that, even in French!

"Oui, monsieur, c'est assez gros et juteux," I managed, after a bit of hurried thinking, though I did blush even more at telling Mr Kevil I had a big, juicy bone!

Course, no-one else had the faintest idea what bone we were talking about, cos Mr Kevil did things like that, just randomly taking a word or something and using it to teach a bit of French conversation, but I knew what he was on about, and I'd just told him I had a decent cock!

It should have ended there and no harm done. I do not chase after boys I teach, mainly because it's far too dangerous. There's usually one or two in every class that I would be very happy to take to bed, and, now and again, there's one who I know would have no hesitation in getting his kit off for me, but I've always resisted those temptations, preferring to keep out of prison, and indulge myself in legal, Italian, holiday boys, and just allow myself the odd wondering fantasy about the hormone ravaged adolescents in my classes.

Now I had, in effect, flirted with Jason Price! Our exchange of tiny looks and glances had resulted in him getting an erection, and I'd been stupid enough to follow up his tale of his dog peeing on an electric fence and talk about `bones', even asking him if he had a nice juicy bone for his dog's mouth! Of course, he knew exactly what I was really talking about and said that he did have a decent sized juicy bone, and we both knew he was talking about his cock!

I was lucky that only Price and I knew what we were really talking about, but it was a stupid risk, and I really had to be more careful.

Sex is the main interest in any fourteen year old boy's life, and, in any society where they have not been brainwashed, boys of that age are, by nature, multi-sexual. Most of the time they are mono-sexual, because their own hands are the only sex they can get, but give them a chance and they'll have an experiment or two with another boy's hand, and deep inside them is a desire to submit themselves to an alpha male, to an adult man, because, since they were invented, that is what boys have always done. They're not averse to females either, the calls of biology are definitely there, but, deep down inside them, boys don't give a shit where the sex comes from or what form it takes as long as they get some.

The modern English boy has a problem, he has been brainwashed. The media and the entertainment industry have led him to believe that he must be a macho creature, an alpha male in the making, and if he wants sex then he must find a girl to have sex with. Nothing else is acceptable, homophobia is the rule of the day.

So, when a boy is like Jason Price, a boy who does think of cock, almost certainly thinks of cock more when he wanks than he ever thinks of tit or fanny, he has one big problem; he has to hide what he thinks from the outside world, and Jason Price had forgotten that golden rule.

If I had been on holiday in Italy, it would have been a simple matter of saying, "Come round to my camper van about nine tonight," and he'd have been there at nine and naked in bed by ten past, but this was not holiday time in Italy, it was term time in a school in Hampshire, and I had no idea what to do next.

I did some thinking when I was in bed that night, and, course, there's only one way to do the sort of thinking I was thinking. I was naked, naturally, I always sleeps naked; I like the way it feels and there's nothing to get in the way if I wants to get at me cock. So there I am, just playing with myself while I tries to sort things out in me head.

Mr Kevil wants me cock, there can't be no doubt about that, and I ain't bothered that he wants me cock. Not like I actually wanted him to have it, just that it didn't bother me none that he did want it. I deffo weren't gonna do nothing about it, but I weren't gonna say nothing to anyone either. It was sorta like, if it happens, it happens, and if it did happen, then I wouldn't be making any complaints about it.

Reece Maggs was a different matter altogether! I deffo wanted him! I ain't got a clue what his cock's like, but I'd be wanking later thinking of it, imagining it in my hand and in me mouth as well. Yes, I wanted to suck Reece Maggs, and I wanted him to shoot in my mouth!

I was just gently playing with me cock, it weren't hard, just a bit chubby, like, and I idly runs me thumb through me pubes. I ain't got a forest, like, but they's growing nicely, not spreading down me cock yet, but definitely there. I has a feel of me balls an' all, an' they's getting some hairs on them now, and I ain't too sure I likes that.

Like the rest of me is completely smooth, nothing under me arms and absolutely nothing on me legs. Me legs is real smooth, and I does love that cos I feels and strokes me thighs loads when I'm wanking, and I love the super smooth feel.

I feels me balls again and thinks I bet Reece Maggs ain't got no hairs on his balls yet, and that'd be well wicked cos they'd be ace to feel and suck. Yeah, I want to suck his balls as well as his cock. Well, like I said, I knows I's as bent as a hairpin, so why shouldn't I want to suck his balls?

I bet Reece Maggs ain't got much in the way of pubes yet, either, and thinking that well turns me on, like it'd be totally evil if he didn't have none yet but could spunk.

I starts fingering me own pubes again, wondering what it'd be like if I didn't have none, would it make wanking even better?

Course, all this has got me feeling well horny, and I gets this mad idea to shave off me pubes, just to see what it's like, wanking without any, so I creeps into the bathroom and finds me mum's razor what she uses for her legs.

It's a battery thing, and you don't have to scrape it over your skin, just sorta smooth it over, so, though, course, I'm dead nervous about doing meself a damage, wandering a razor over me balls like. I does it, and I'm bleeding shocked by the amount of hair I gets off me balls! No wonder they was starting to feel hairy!

I does me pubes an' all, the whole bleeding lot, and, bugger me, but do I like the result or what! I sorta thought I'd look like a little kid again, but no way! I look like a kinky kid of fourteen what's shaved off his pubes!

Me cock looks loads bigger cos it ain't got no hairs round it no more, and, for some strange reason, I feels loads more naked without them.

And did it feel magic or what when I get back in bed and started wanking! I pushed the covers right down so I could watch meself wank and I shot loads!

I has another wank in the morning and that felt just as good, so there weren't no doubt I was going pubeless from now on.

Course, I gotta go to school, ain't I, so I gets up instead of having another wank and starts to get dressed when I has another well kinky thought. It feels well good not having no pubes, so I wonders what it'd feel like if I didn't have any knickers on either. I mean, it could be well dodgy if I boned up at school cos it'd be bleeding obvious if I weren't wearing any knickers, but going around without any on all day at school were such a kinky thought that it just had to be done.

When I looked in the mirror I could see the outline of me cock inside me trousers, but it weren't too obvious, so I thought `Fuck it!' and caught the bus to school.

If Mr Kevil checked me out he'd be bound to notice, but I spose, that was part of the reason I did it.                                                                         

Well, I'd been going to school without pubes and underwear for a week, and Mr Kevil hadn't said nothing, he didn't even look at me that much, and I was no nearer to working out a way I could get at Reece Maggs and I was starting to get well pissed off.

It were doing me head in and no mistake, and I got well mad with Mr Kevil for not noticing anything and I made a real fuck up of a bit of homework for him; I spose I thought it were some sort of revenge, like. You don't notice me, so fuck your bloody French!

His attitude suddenly changed. Instead of waiting for me to look at him, the look that blatantly wondered what he had inside his pants, so he could give back that tiny, `wouldn't you like to know' grin, he was blank-faced when I tried to catch his eye, or his lip would fractionally curl, a `Fuck off' curl that just didn't fit with his previous behaviour.

When I started teaching, thirty or so years ago, I used to have a lot of these fleeting, eye contact seduction attempts. Times were different then, boys less conditioned into aggressive homophobic behaviour. Then it had been possible to literally sniff out a possible boy, a boy who pumped out the right type of pheromones, use looks to let him know you thought he was pretty decent, and if he didn't reject those looks, to move on to the `bet you'd look good without clothes' look. Sometimes, not always, you'd get a `find out if you want' look, and there you were, another adolescent cock to suck, more teenage spunk to fill your mouth with its delicious flavour.

I'd given up doing that when the `fuck off' look became the standard reply, even from boys you knew were desperate for their cocks to be sucked; wanting to have your cock sucked by anyone not a girl was no longer acceptable, boys had to be macho, not submissive.

Jason Price had broken that teenage boy behavioural rule, but now he had retreated into obeying it and I wanted to know why. I should have left it there, decided it was more the boy's loss than mine; that would have been the safe thing to do, but the signals were all wrong. That `fuck off' lip curl was in direct contradiction to the pheromones that were almost visibly pouring out from the boy; Jason Price was desperate to have his cock sucked, so why was he trying to pretend he didn't?

His homework gave me the answer. Price is not a wonder boy student, but he is competent and this bit of homework was anything but competent. It was bad, so bad that it almost screamed it was deliberately bad, and knowing how boys' minds work, I knew it was intended to get my attention. What I didn't know was why, so I scrawled `SEE ME' at the bottom in red biro to let him know that his message had been received and further details were required.

`SEE ME' meant that he had to come to my desk at the end of the lesson, and it provided him with cover for doing that. Philip Edwards, the boy who sat beside him, would see that red biro demand, mutter some sympathetic words, agree that teachers were all bastards, and Price could come and talk to me without a hint of any suspicion about why he was doing that.

Jason Price knew I wanted to get at his cock and I knew he had no objections to my wanting that. It may never get beyond that, safer for all if it did not get beyond that, but Jason Price had a cock that needed sucking and I had a mouth that liked sucking the cocks of boys like Jason Price, so why had he handed in a piece of homework that was nothing other than a coded message that he needed to talk, and his `fuck off' lip curls were simply underlinings to that message.

That red `SEE ME' at the bottom of my homework ought to have made me angry and resentful, that was the proper way to be when you got that on your work, so that's the way I was. I shoved it over to Phil so he could see it, and he agreed instantly the Kevil was a cunt, just like all teachers, and I gave an appropriate deep, heavy sigh, a perfect example of an unjustly wronged schoolboy.

Actually, I was more than half ready to be just that, my brain hurt from trying to work things out. My French teacher wanted my cock and I was gagging to get at Reece Maggs, but I couldn't see any way of getting anywhere near Reece Maggs without destroying my cred, and Mr Kevil was doing nothing about actually getting my cock and I didn't know what the fuck to do about any of it.

I'd shaved off me pubes, thinking that when Mr Kevil did get inside my trousers he'd be well turned on by what he found, and Reece Maggs would know straight away that I was bent so he was safe letting me do him, cos, course, if he did let me do him then he'd obviously be bent as well, and, anyway, it felt well sexy being all shaved smooth.

I'd given up underwear so Mr Kevil could see at least a bit of what he wanted if he cared to look, and Maggs would be over the moon when he got his thirteen year old hand in there and found me without any keks, cos that'd show him how bent I was, and it was all for fucking nothing cos I were no nearer getting at Maggs and Mr Kevil weren't even trying to make a move on me, and I was well pissed off about the whole thing!

I didn't have a clue what to do next, though. I had to talk to Mr Kevil and he'd want to know why I'd handed in such a shit bit of work, and I couldn't tell him, could I! Like you can't stand at a teacher's desk and say, `It was cos I thought you wanted me cock, sir, but you ain't done nothing about it. An' I want Reece Maggs cock, sir, an' I don't have a clue how to get at it.' You can't say stuff like that, can you, not to a teacher, and in school as well, even if you wants to.

So when I goes to his desk at the end of the lesson, and he asks me what that homework was all about, I just shrugs. `You're the fucking teacher,' I'm thinking, `You fucking work it out!'

I was mad at him, and I was frustrated and bloody confused; he wanted my cock, so why didn't he do something about getting it? I weren't gonna stop him having it, though what I really wanted was Reece Maggs to mess about with, but a man would do for starters, and I was pretty sure Mr Kevil knew all about boys and what to do with them, so I just shrugs and waits for him to say something.

By the time the bell went, the whole class knew Price was in trouble, Philip Edwards had spread the news and, for boys, seeing one of their number get into trouble is a great spectator sport, so everyone knew that Price had been summoned to explain himself, and most wanted to get a look at the proceedings, or the very beginnings of those proceedings as they had to regretfully make their ways to their next lessons.

The boy played his part to perfection, not waiting till the class had emptied after the bell went, but getting straight up and almost pushing his way through to get to my desk, which he approached with a perfect, nonchalant, `don't give a fuck' attitude.

I couldn't inspect him properly as he made his way to the front and to my desk – there were too many other boys still around and I couldn't get a good, clear look until he got within a couple of paces, but when I did get a look in, my heart gave an extra loud thump.

It didn't have an arrow pointing at it, but the outline of Price's cock was clearly visible. I doubt if the other boys would have noticed, but I'm a dedicated observer of teenage boy bulges, and Price didn't have a bulge, he had an outline!

Either he was wearing incredibly thin boxers or he'd somehow fished his cock out of his pants so there was nothing between his trousers and it, and if he'd done that, then he'd done that deliberately, and if he'd done it deliberately then it was because he wanted me to notice!

He just shrugged, as I knew he would, when I asked him about his homework; his homework was only an excuse for him to see me on his own, and I felt sure that him showing me the outline of his cock was the reason he wanted to see me on his own. Boys of fourteen are very, very conscious of their cocks, and Jason Price must be well aware that there was only school trouser material between his cock and my eyes, and he ought to have been doing something, anything, to alter that fact. But he wasn't; he even stood, or lounged more like, a couple of paces short of my desk so I had a clear and unobstructed view of what I was now certain, he wanted me to see.

Oh, yeah, he was working it out alright! His eyes never left me trousers and I had to try to think of cunt to stop meself getting a bone. That always did the job, if I felt a bone coming on when I could do without one, all I had to do was imagine a hairy fanny and down it went, no messing.

I didn't mind him seeing me with a bone, for fuck's sake, I wanted him to see me with a bone, but not here, not in school, that was far too fucking dangerous, so I thought of cunt and stayed soft, but I did make sure he could see all that there was to see, and, after a few seconds, he didn't make no pretence of looking anywhere else.

He did want me cock, there weren't no doubt about it now, he couldn't get his bleeding eyes off it, and he knew I knew he were staring at it, an' I wanted to say `for fuck's sake do something about it!' but, course, I couldn't say nothing like that, could I, so I just lets him look.

"I should give you a detention for handing in work like this," I said, slowly and deliberately so what I was saying had a chance of sinking in, "But then I'd have to send a letter to your parents telling them you'd been given a detention, and what that detention was for, and that it will be next Monday and you'll be late home from school that day."

That was the regulations, everything had to be done by the book these days, the detention recorded on the boy's records and on his term report. Jason was not a boy who got into trouble, he'd never had a detention, so his parents would want to know why, and Jason would have some awkward parental questions to answer, and I was banking on him wanting to avoid that at all costs for obvious reasons.

"Don't have to," he mumbled, "Mum's never home before six anyway, so she don't need to know."

Interesting! Jason had basically just said that he didn't have a father at home and that, so long as he was home by a bit before six, it didn't matter if he was an hour or two later than usual getting home after school. That was all information he had no need to give me, but he just had.

"I take it you do not want a detention on your school record?" I asked and he shook his head and mumbled that he didn't.

"And would I be right in thinking that this," I waved his homework, "Was some sort of plea for help?" He nodded and went just a little bit red, going a long way to confirm my suspicions.

"And that what you want to talk about cannot be talked about in school, because not only the walls have ears, the desks and chairs are listening devices as well?" I said very quietly.

He looked up at me when I said that and he gave a little nod.

"What I'm going to do," I said, making it sound official just in case any of the listening devices were turned on, "Is give you an unofficial detention today. You will report to me outside the staff room at the end of school and you will do this work properly. That, of course, means you will miss the school bus home, and I will tell the Head that, as I have kept you behind, I will ensure you get home safely."

The look in his eyes was one of pure relief, but Jason knew the rules and made sure no listening device picked up anything it should not have done.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," he said, and gave me a tiny grin.       

I nearly bloody skipped to me next lesson, but I remembered in time to put a bit of a `downer' look on before any of me class mates saw me. I didn't give a fuck about the unofficial detention, Mr Kevil was a bloody genius and he'd come up with that idea so I could have the chance to talk to him proper alone and not in school. He was even gonna do it all official, telling the Head I were in an unofficial detention and that Mr Kevil would be responsible for getting me home after, so no nosy bastard could ask awkward questions when I got in his car later.

And, of course, he hardly took his eyes off me cock, an' I made bloody sure he could get a good look, so we both knew all this was really all about my cock, an' I was well chuffed cos I'd shaved and weren't wearing no pants, so when Mr Kevil got me zip undone he'd really like what he found, and know I was a boy who wanted his cock seen to and no mistake.

Of course, in my imagination it was all so simple now. In his car, Mr Kevil would ask if he could have my cock and I'd tell him course he could, and he'd ask me what I wanted done and I'd say I wanted to be sucked and spunk in his mouth and that would happen, just like that.

It was a bit like having a wank dream in the day while sitting through Maths and Geography, and I was trying to imagine what it would be like having me cock felt and wanked, let alone sucked, and, course, I couldn't wait till the end of school so I could get started on finding all that out.

I even found time in Geography to do me French homework properly this time, so we wouldn't have to hang about too long after school and Mr Kevil could get me in his car and go for me cock at last.

So Jason Price was up for having his cock seen to, no doubts at all about that now, but the risks involved in enjoying a schoolboy of fourteen are very considerable and I'm not into running those sort of risks, so some mutual understandings had to be reached before I tasted what he had to offer.

There is always an element of danger in having a boy in a one-off situation; the boy may regret what he's done by the time he gets home and then all hell would break loose. Almost as bad is when a one-off boy wants more, wants to be the one and only boyfriend, his giving conditional on him being the only ever one, and that's far too much like woman's behaviour for me.

Almost as dangerous is the boy who just wants regular sex, because one has to be so careful when dealing with underage boys, and, in England, the boys I like are bound to be underage.

I can't say I was surprised when Jason appeared after school, his homework already redone, and redone properly, and handed to me with a smug smile.

"Didn't think you'd want to waste no time, sir," he said as he gave it to me and I knew exactly what he meant, but I made him wait a good quarter of an hour anyway, just to be sure his school bus had left.

"Out of school, now, Jason," I said carefully as we left the school gates behind, "Safe for you to tell me what you want to tell me."

All me wank fantasies disappeared, cos real life ain't nothing like a wank dream, is it. I'd imagined Mr Kevil just going straight for it, but, course, he couldn't do that, could he? I mean, like, I'm fourteen, so he had to be dead certain I was up for it before he made a move, an' short of just getting me cock out there and then I didn't know how to let him know I really wanted it.

Course, It weren't just him having me cock I wanted, was it. I wanted to get me head clear as well, like what to do about Reece Maggs, and, to be honest, find out just what Mr Kevil wanted to do to me as well. So it weren't dead simple, like in a wank dream when none of that stuff matters; he wanted me to tell him what was bothering me, and, cos I'd sorta arranged all this so I could tell him, I had to say something, didn't I.

"You really like boys, sir," I says without proper thinking, "You know, like really like them?"

He keeps his eyes on the road, but he says to me, all matter of fact like, "I think you've already worked that out for yourself, Jason," and, course, I had, but I wanted to hear him say it so I knew I weren't making no mistake.

"You had any?" I asks, cos that were important as well. If he'd done boys before then he was safe, cos he weren't gonna say nothing about having me, and he'd know what to do to a boy as well.

"Does that make a difference?" he asks and I said yeah it does, cos if he'd done boys before he knew what to do and how important it was to keep it all a secret.

Then he asks me where I lives an' I tells him, an' it's only about twenty minutes away, but I don't have to be home till quarter to six and it's only just gone three now, so he don't have to take me straight there if he don't want to. An' he asks if it'd be better if he takes me to his place for a bit, cos there's loads we should talk about, an' I asks him if it's safe to do that, cos his neighbours might wonder why he was taking a boy home, an' he says not to worry about that, and I'd see why when we got there, an' while we's driving there I asks him to tell me about some of the boys he'd had and what he liked doing to them, cos there weren't no doubt now I were gonna have me cock seen to at last.

I reckon he must have worked out that I was safe, cos he started telling me about the boys he'd done, an' how he always went to Italy for all the summer holidays and that's were he got the boys he had, doing them in this big camper van he had, and I told him all about how I wanted to do Reece Maggs, but I quite liked the idea of being done by a man, cos, though it were sposed to be super well wrong, I somehow thought it were actually well not wrong for a boy to want to get done by a man, and obviously all them boys he'd had in Italy thought that as well.

I felt sorta lightheaded cos me brain weren't hurting no more, not now I knew he were gonna have me, though I still had to work out how to get at Reece Maggs, but that could wait now, till after I'd been done, anyway.

I saw what he meant about not having to worry about any neighbours, cos his place were well out in the wilds, up some long track, an' he grinned at me an' said he'd bought it years ago cos it seemed like a place he could take boys, and I giggled and said he was taking a boy there now.

I saw his camper van, an' it were huge! No wonder he did boys in it, it were like some bungalow on wheels with an engine, and I wondered what it'd be like if he did me in there for me first time.

Jason opened up wonderfully once we'd established that I went for boys and had enjoyed quite a few. He was clearly a sensible lad, and knew the risks both of us were running and the need to keep things a secret, even though he thought the law was stupid, as why should it be wrong for a boy to go with a man if the boy wanted it? And if he'd be legal in Italy, how stupid was it that he wasn't legal here for another two years?

I couldn't give him a sensible answer to that, because, of course, there isn't one, but he insisted that I shouldn't worry, because he had no intention of saying anything to anyone; he wasn't going to do anything that would land me in the soft and smelly, and he wasn't going into that himself.

He was totally taken by my camper van, `my boy seduction and enjoyment vehicle' as I called it, much to his amusement, and he wondered out loud if that was where he should be seduced and enjoyed instead of in the cottage.

"Not sure," I tried to keep a straight face, "I'm not certain that you need to be seduced," and he giggled delightfully and chirped back that probably those Italian boys didn't need seducing either, which was, in fact, entirely true.

So camper van it was, and his jaw dropped when he saw inside. A real lounge with a proper sofa, bolted to the floor, of course, a real shower unit and bathroom and a bedroom with a real double bed, again, a fixed unit. The kitchen was almost as good as the one in the cottage, and cabinets and freezer held food, wine in the fridge. I kept it plugged into the mains so it was always ready for use, and the bedroom contained all the necessaries as well, a bedside table with a drawer for lube and condoms, the second drawer containing a leather strap and paddle, Velcro cuffs and a blindfold.

"Some boys enjoy that sort of thing," I explained as he sorted through what was there. "But don't you worry, I never do anything with or to a boy that he doesn't want and doesn't ask for."

I got him a cold coke from the fridge while he explored the lounge, finding cigarettes and weed, before flopping down, nicely in the centre of the sofa.

"You smoke?" I asked, because I'd found the fags but had never seen him smoke or him even smell of ciggies like some of the teachers did, and he says he only does if he's with a boy who does, because he knows some boys hate the smell of tobacco smoke and no way will they kiss a man who smokes.

"What about the weed?" I asked, and he said the same thing; sometimes he has a boy who stays with him for a few days and if he's a boy who is into weed, then it helps if he has some handy.

I wondered about trying it, but he was sitting beside me on the sofa and I wanted him to do something.

I was growing a bone now, cos he was so close, and I didn't try to stop it this time, instead I stretched out me legs a bit so it was obvious what was happening inside me trousers, and he was well nice about it, gave me a massive smile and said he could look the other way if I wanted.

Course, I didn't want him to look the other way, did I, but I did want to be sure he wouldn't do nothing I didn't want him to.

"Don't think I want to be fucked," I said, "Not yet, anyway. Is that bad?" And he puts an arm round me shoulder and says course it's not bad, some boys want it and some don't, and as far as he's concerned `no' means `no'.

We talks a bit more, and I says how bad I've got it for Reece Maggs, and, bugger me, he seems to understand! Fuck! Why can't all adults be like this? Life'd be so much easier if you could say things like that to someone who knew about stuff!

Then he sorta nods at me bone and says does I want something done about it, and I's a bit shy then, and sorta just mumbles and leans into him, and his hand is undoing me trousers belt and then me zip, and I'm lifting me bum up so he can pull them down so he can get at me cock properly.

It was only when I'd tugged Jason's trousers down below his knees that I realised why the outline of his cock had been so obvious, under school trousers there was nothing but schoolboy; Jason was going commando! Then it dawned on me that he may have been doing this for days, doing it so I would be able to notice his cock, and if he had, because I hadn't noticed, I owed him an apology. No wonder he'd been mad with me!

But then there was something else to notice, and that took my breath away. Not only no underwear, but no pubes either! Had he done that for me as well?

He couldn't possibly have known that I had a hair fetish – I hated hair on boys. I always did my best to talk my holiday boys out of their pubes if they were going to let me do them more than once; Jason couldn't have known that, but he'd smoothed himself anyway and he looked absolutely lovely.

"So nice," I approved, running fingers over his smoothed pubis.

"You like it?" he asked me hopefully, and I assured him that I more than liked it, and asked if he'd shaved his legs as well because they were so wonderfully smooth.

"Nah," he grinned, "They come that way. Think I would shave them if they got hairy though. I like them all smooth."

"So do I," I smiled at him and he snuggled in a bit closer, a boy happy to give himself up for a man's adoration.

"Sorry about this," I joked, and went down to taste him, and when I found his balls were as smooth as his pubis, I took them in my mouth, one at a time then both together, and stroked his silky thighs while I rolled them around with my tongue.

Jason snuggled in even closer and purred like a kitten while I tasted his balls and stroked his thighs, and purred even more when I changed the focus of my oral attention to where his pubes used to be.

Not even a tiny hint of stubble, he'd shaved himself utterly smooth and I licked and kissed and Jason purred and moaned gently.

Time for his throbbing cock then, and I opened my mouth for it.

"Me skin's a bit tight," he warned me, "Does peel, but do it gentle if yer wants to peel it."

"No worries," I whispered gently, "I like cock best when it's skin covered. Much nicer to play with and suck, but I might do this now and again." I eased his skin back just far enough to expose his piss slit and flicked my tongue over it, and that made his body jerk and brought out a loud gasp from him.

Then I concentrated on sucking him for spunk. I could have edged him a bit, made his first sucking last for ages, but I knew Jason needed to be sucked off all the way, to squirt his spunk in my mouth and have it eaten. Jason wasn't the first `first time' boy I've been lucky enough to enjoy and I knew boys like that needed to get their first spunking over and done with without too much in the way of fancy stuff.

I did poke my tongue inside his foreskin now and again, just to give him that little extra thrill, and I fondled his smooth balls and silky thighs while I sucked him.

He did some wriggling around and I realised he was kicking off his trainers and using his feet to get his trousers properly off so he could open his legs more for me, and there were some more movements as well, as he stripped off his top layers so he was completely naked for me, and I murmured my appreciation as I savoured his lovely cock.

I guessed there were about five inches of it, decently thick for a boy of fourteen, but utterly perfect for my mouth. I could get my lips down to where his pubes had been and still not have my gag reflex triggered by the tip of his cock. I could easily have taken him into my throat, but there aren't any taste buds in the throat and I wanted to taste him properly and completely.

I had an exploratory feel of his nipples, testing his reaction. Some boys have really sensitive nipples, and playing with them is more of a turn off than a turn on for a boy, so I always test before pinching and squeezing a boy's tits. Jason seemed to have about average sensitivity, so his nipples would definitely come in for some oral treatment later, and kissing could wait for later as well. Spunking was Jason's priority and so I made his spunking my priority as well.

He did try to warn me he was on the way, but he got no further than "Gonna," before his cock stiffened and shot, giving me four of five rounds of lovely, thickish boy cream to savour and slowly swallow.

I kept an arm round his shoulder and my other hand on one of his silky thighs while he came down from his orgasmic high. That can be a dangerous moment for a `first time' boy, sudden guilt attacks when he realises he had given his body to a man, a conditioned, society induced reflex; he's broken the rules, done what he's been told so many times he must never do.

Jason's virginity was still intact, though, or his anal virginity was; I'd done what he wanted and never let even a finger stray into forbidden territory, it had all been about his cock, nothing more. He had stripped himself though, and that just might bother him now his balls were empty, and that's why I kept a hand on his thigh and cuddled him gently.

"You are gorgeous," I whispered to him, gently moving my hand on his leg, "You look fantastic naked."

I couldn't believe how good it felt when Mr Kevil started using his mouth on my balls and cock. I'd imagined hundreds of times how good it would feel to get sucked, but none of my imaginings got anywhere near the real thing. It made me feel so good when he stroked my thighs, saying how wonderfully smooth they were and how much he liked it that I was shaved, and I just had to get my clothes off so he could enjoy all of me, feel me all over while he was doing wonderful things to my cock with his mouth.

I couldn't believe how gentle he was with me, like I was something precious that needed to be stroked and petted. He never tried to get my skin back, just poked his tongue around inside it a bit somehow, and that was incredible, and he never went anywhere near my arse, though I got my legs as wide apart as I could so he could go there if he wanted, but he never even tried to. I wouldn't have stopped him, but I was glad he didn't, I know I'm not ready for bum stuff yet, even though I'm as bent as buggery.

He let me shoot in his mouth and he swallowed it all! He even gently squeezed out the last wet dribbles and licked them off the tip of my cock so there was nothing at left to wipe up.

Then, when it was over, he whispered that he thought I looked fantastic naked, and that made me grin a little.

"Love being naked," I sniggered a bit, "Always sleep naked, and when Mum's not around I walk about the flat naked as well. That's well wicked and kinky, isn't it?"

He smiled and gave me a tiny kiss on my hair, "Not at all," he smiled, "You just know when you look at your best."

I laughed out loud at that, cos I do like being naked and I do like the way I look naked, especially now me pubes have gone, and I wanted to stay naked now so he could look at me properly instead of trying to imagine what I was like without me school uniform on.

I loved it, him looking at me all over and stroking my thigh; I loved just giving myself to a man so he could enjoy me, it just seemed so right for some reason or other. I wanted to get Reece Maggs into bed, be naked with him, but that was different, that would be boys playing around; this was what a boy was really for.

I tried to think how I could say that, but I just couldn't think of the right words.

"Can I have one of your ciggies, please?" I said instead. I don't really smoke, just one now and again like, but I wanted one now while he was cuddling me and making me feel so good.

"You can do me again if you want," I offered when he'd popped a ciggie in my mouth and lit it, "It's only half four, so there's plenty of time if you want."

He said he'd rather just sit like this and hold me and play with me a bit, and there were things we had to talk about and sort out because, if I wanted, he'd like to do this again with me, but only if I really wanted to, and I said I wished I was one of his Italian boys who could stay a few days with him and be always naked for him, and, cos I'm a bent bugger, I asked him to tell me about some of them while he played with me.

No worries about Jason feeling guilty! He was in his element, cuddled naked up to me and purring when I stroked his lovely adolescent body. I was surprised that he asked for a cigarette, and I had the feeling he was trying to establish to himself that he was some sort of `man-boy', that he was old enough to know what he was doing, and young enough to give his body to a man, and that's one of the reasons I only like adolescent boys. They are aware they're no longer children, they can do `man' things, make spunk, get girls pregnant, but they still want to be boys, and boys have some sort of instinct that they are meant to submit themselves to men, give themselves to an alpha male and be used for sex.

I think that's why he wanted to know about other boys I've had, so he could feel he was not alone in wanting what he wanted, that other boys felt the way he did, so I told him about some of them, and one in particular, a lovely fourteen year old Italian boy called Giovanni who I met in the sea.

He surfaced beside me in the Mediterranean, and instantly flashed me that boy smile that says `if you like boys, you'll like me', and I let him know that I did like boys very much. He grabbed me by the hand and led me out of the sea, up the beach to where his parents were, and told them, straight out, that he'd found an English boyfriend for the holiday, and then spent the next ten days either in the sea or in my bed, apart from the evenings when we had dinner with his parents.

"Wish I could say that to my mum," Jason lamented, and I lamented with him because we would have to find more secret ways if we were to spend any time at all in bed, and I did want to spend time in bed with Jason.

He wanted to know if I'd fucked Giovanni, and I told him I had, several times, but that was because Giovanni wanted to be fucked and I was not the first man to fuck him. And, yes, I had fucked other boys as well, and no, I couldn't tell him exactly how many because I never kept a count, but it was probably about half the number of boys I'd sucked.

Even that was not sufficient for Jason, he wanted a number and I knew what he wanted to know was if there were lots of boys like him, boys who `did it' with men, boys who submitted to an alpha male.

"Work it out," I grinned at him, "Thirty years of boy adoring, though active boy adoration mostly confined to summer holidays, and I suppose about five boys a year."

"That's a hundred and fifty boys and about seventy that you fucked," he beamed in delight, "Oh, that is so cool!" and he snuggled in as close as he could get, and asked me why I hadn't fucked the others as well.

"Because they didn't want to be fucked, I told you, I never do anything a boy does not want."

I was playing with his foreskin now; my favourite boy cocks are the ones with lots of foreskin, I suppose that's my other boy cock fetish to go along with the no pubes one, twiddling a boy's foreskin is such a tiny thing to do, but I know just how good it feels for a boy, all the sexy sensations confined to a tiny bit of skin.

Jason hadn't hardened up again, he was still just about half way to hardness, simply enjoying being naked and being softly played with, and he told me he really liked what I was doing for him and sometimes he did himself like that, just twiddled his skin until he spunked. "Takes ages," he giggled, "I'm really bent, aren't I."

"Doesn't everyone say `gay' now instead of `bent' or `queer'? I chuckled in his hair.

"Don't like `gay'," he said seriously, `Sounds well girly, and I wouldn't want to be girly. I'm a boy, a bent boy."

"You don't know that for sure yet," I used my non-foreskin twiddling hand to stroke him down his arm, "All boys go through phases of what sort of sex appeals most. Guys like me are lucky that one of those phases sometimes includes being done by a man."

"Nah," he rejected that concept, "I know I'm bent," and he told me how he managed to get his cock to go down when he got unwanted bones by thinking of cunt and that proved he was bent. "Wanna do me like that?" he asked, looking at my finger and thumb twiddling his foreskin, and the thought obviously appealed because his cock started to swell and harden again. "Tell you when it's on the way if you want to ����."

He couldn't quite manage to say what he wanted to say, asking me if I wanted his spunk in my mouth again must have seemed a bit too bent even for a self-confessed bent boy to say.

"Not till the last second," I began to twiddle a bit more seriously – his cock was fully hard again now but there was still enough skin to grip and twiddle – "Wait till there's no way you could stop from shooting, and I'll get down there so you've got something to shoot into."

Jason giggled, "I'm a bent boy and you're bent for boys," he sniggered, "Magic."

I let him arrange himself so he could stretch himself out fully, "Makes me get me legs all tense, when I does it this way," he told me, and I wasn't complaining because I had a full view of his utterly smooth naked beauty and could see all the effects on him of what I was doing for him, and it was an incredibly erotic sight.

Just the tips of two of my fingers and a thumb, twiddling his foreskin as hard as I could. I could see the way that moved the skin across his hidden glans, slowly building up the feelings and sensations, his whole body tense and taut as he tried to maximise those feelings and sensations.

His cock got incredibly hard, demanding fuller and more enclosing treatment, and he began to pant rather than breathe, and then holding his breath altogether for as long as he could, trying to force those sensations to a climax.

I saw his balls begin to move, loading the ammunition to fire up his cock, and the constricted head of his cock started to swell a little, demanding that its gun port be opened so it could fire.

"Nearly," Jason gasped, and down I went, mouth open, watched his cock swelling more, let go of his foreskin, got just the tip of him into my mouth and felt his shots spatter against my palate as his tensed body forced out all he had to shoot.

"Oh, fuck!" he breathed, "Fuck! That was amazing!"

And not the slightest hint of post-orgasmic guilt, just a very contented smile as I ran my hand all over his panting body.