Date: Mon, 07 Feb 2005 00:18:42 +0000
From: czykguy Nomdeplume <czykguy@hotmail.com>
Subject: BOYLOVER'S TALES - SCHOOLDAYS - Eyes Opened - Part 1 Getting my Eyes
    Opened

   BOYLOVER'S TALES - SCHOOLBOYS -Eyes Opened - Part One - Getting my Eyes
                          Opened - by Czykguy 1999


     "YOU BOY," the bull like voice caused me to turn around,
          "Yes you, are you deaf lad?" the owner of the voice spoke and I
quaked with all fear an eleven year old has when facing the Headmaster,
especially when he is pointing a thick finger. "Come here," he ordered
imperiously, the finger curling me toward him; trembling with `what have I
done wrong' terrors exploding through my brain I stood before him.
           "Oh," he spoke gently, "a First Year," and he smiled a little,
"I'm sorry I must have frightened you. It must all be still very new to you
here?"
"Yes Sir," I replied in a very small voice, looking down at my feet. If only
he knew.
     Everyone say's its big adventure when you go up from Junior school to,
in my case, Secondary School, they don't always tell you what a complete
shock to the system it actually is, especially of you are a sensitive boy
like I was. I was happy at Junior school I had all my friends around me,
Janet Edwards, Janet Brown, Alison, Mary, Anne and my best friend Helen. We
played all the usual games in the playground, skipping, tag, even that
horror of horrors `Kiss chase', although I was never much `It' or kissed in
that game. I actually thought I was clever, it never crossed my mind that my
friends weren't likely to kiss someone they considered a friend, it was much
more fun for them to be caught by one of the rough boys who also inhabited
the playground. I however steered well clear of them and in return they
scared me whenever they got the chance. So I was not prepared for the big
change that was coming.
            Realisation began to sink in slowly on the day we all trooped
off to visit the `new school'. I was annoyed to find that the line was split
into boys and girls and when we got to this `new school' I became aware that
the girls and my friends went in one entrance and I and the rest of the boys
went into another. I was about to enter a totally masculine environment, an
alien way of life for me. I remember feeling very unhappy as my friends
disappeared from sight. I followed the line of eagerly chattering boys as
they went into the gate, to be greeted and shown around what was going to be
my life of horror for the next five years.
     Now some three weeks into my new life I was getting more acclimatized.
I had had a desperate summer when my friends had one by one changed and in
our way had said some sort of goodbye, to be honest they were more aware of
what was happening but they were going to be together and I think they
realised I was going to be a fish out of water so I had been slowly pushed
into the company of brothers and others who would be joining me at the new
school so I would not be so alone. I still had no new friends but as all the
other older boys ganged up on the new ones, we supported each other against
a common enemy. It would be in the next year that I would be singled out as
`different' which in its way was better than special but not much. Anyway to
return to the start of this episode that remains imprinted on my memory of
those times.
     "Where should you be lad?" the Head enquired.
           "I was on my way to Music, Sir," I replied nervously, "I came in
the wrong doorway from the playground after break so I had to go the long
way round, I'm sorry Sir it won't happen again,' I was almost stammering.
           "Music eh," he smiled again, "well that's alright. I need someone
to run a little errand and you won't miss much there," he put his hand on my
shoulder and terrifyingly bent down to my level.
            Actually I liked Music but was getting more and more aware it
was not the right sort of thing for a proper boy to be interested in,
trembling I listened to his request.

                 It turned out to be very simple in the end I was to go to
the changing rooms and find Mr Benson the Sports Master and ask him to come
directly to the Head's office as he had something important to tell him. The
Head knew that the class he was about to take was responsible so he could
leave them for a short time. Behind the Head through the door to his office
I could see someone sitting down and to me they looked Very Important.

     I set off on my task,
     "Boy," I jumped as the bull voice bawled at me, "Don't Run,"
     I slowed to a fast walk, "Yes Sir, yes Sir," I spoke apologetically.
     The changing rooms were below the Music Room which adjoined the `Gym'
so I would not be too late for my lesson and I was well aware of the
importance that would be given to my reason for being late, it was unlikely
that a First Year would lie about doing a task for the Head, it was too easy
to check and in most cases in the First Year you learnt how to lie to
adults, it was instilled in you as you grew through the years.
I pushed open the swinging doors into the changing rooms, the usual smell of
boy and football boots and sour shower hit me as I entered; then as now it
aroused my senses the only difference is that now I actually know why it
aroused me. The noise of boys arose around me and I turned the corner into
the changing room and stopped my mouth agape. This was a Fifth Year Period
and a wide panorama of naked men rather than boys opened up before my eyes.

                 Everywhere I looked was hair. I had led a sheltered life
and had never, ever seen my father naked. I was totally unaware of the
physical changes that would take place, although I had grown bits of downy
fluffy hair in places that most of my fellow classmates had not, I assumed I
was different and did my best to hide my supposed `difference' from their
sight and possible verbal abuse.

     Now however I feasted on hair and in all the places I was growing it,
not only that but I was face to face with knobs all much bigger than mine
and I was fascinated by the sight of these dangling tubes and the balls
underneath. Most boys who would have been between fifteen and sixteen years
of age were in the process of putting on their shorts and showed none of the
speed I and my classmates had achieved in getting ready for P.E.

     It had been very quickly instilled into us on our first lesson when we
had changed into our `games gear' shorts, vest and plimsolls and changed
back again, time and time again until we had achieved a speed Mr Benson
found acceptable. After I had got over the horrific fact that we were not
allowed to wear out knickers under our shorts, this was total taboo it was
with even more horror that I found we had to shower together afterwards, a
huge shock to my sensitive system. It also meant in this case you walked
along a line of shower heads, spitting from lukewarm to cold water in sudden
unexpected bursts, and you walked from one end of the shower room to the
other and then picked up the towel you had left at the entrance. It was
important to get in the first half of that line because if you did not then
someone who had forgotten their towel would pick up yours from the pile.
Under Mr Benson's eagle eye you never managed to avoid the shower. If you
had forgotten your towel it was an automatic detention so it was a lesson
soon learned from running around the changing rooms naked and dripping and
trying to find which sod had nicked your towel this time. It also helped to
hide my difference if I was at the head of the queue and I became one of the
fastest `games gear' changers in my class. As ever the towel would be soaked
so you went to the next lesson uncomfortably damp and furthermore to avoid
that detention you had to show Mr Benson it was your towel that had been
`borrowed'. Luckily my mother had purchased masses of nametags so when it
happened and it did fairly often that year, I always escaped detention. Boys
who did borrow were remarkably adept in leaving the towel well away from
their clothes in case they were spotted and got punished after all.

     I found my self staring at this range of knobs and was oblivious to the
chatter of the boys until one youth stood in front of me. My attention was
dragged away from the long tube of flesh that he possessed, the mass of
attractive curly hair that surrounded it and the halo of hair that
highlighted the balls that swung almost poetically.
     "Oy you. Tosspot, what do you think your doing," the owner of the long
tube grabbed my attention and I found myself looking at a tall dark haired
lad who seemed familiar, then I recognised him as one of the prefects, the
bane of First Year boys, who had the power of what seemed like life and
death over you, actually all they could do was give you lines to do and I
did plenty and send you to a Master for punishment if the crime was too
severe for simple lines.

                 "Message," I blurted out and regaining some of my composure
stuttered, "I, I, I have a message for Mr Benson from the Headmaster," and
then added stupidly, "Sir." I had forgotten how prefects liked it when we
First Year's called them `Sir', but they would ridicule you as much as they
had been ridiculed when they had done the same thing when they has been
First Years too.
     "Well," said the prefect who I now remembered was called Harris. We
were all know by our surname at this school and even amongst close friend's
surnames were the most used forms of address. "What are you waiting for?" he
glared.

                 "Er where is he?" I asked wildly looking around, and this
time totally unaware of the goodies on display.
           "Idiot," sneered Harris, "He's in his room," and dismissing me
with a wave of his knob turned to they boy beside him and said, "I wonder
what the Old Man (the nickname the head was known by) wants with him now?" I
left them discussing the possibilities.

     I made my way through the throng of semi-naked bodies and shorts with
bulges. It seemed a badge of honour amongst this lot that the last thing to
go on was their shorts and despite my hurry, I was able to drink in the
sights of these new fabled objects of strange desire, as I made my way to
the Sports master's room within the changing rooms.
     Carefully I knocked on the door. It swung fully open and by this I mean
that the door was usually in two halves like a stable door, I think it was
done so that Mr Benson could keep and eye on us without exposing himself as
he changed. In this case as the boys were older he was probably not
expecting someone of my tender years and I was almost face to face with a
thick sausage of wrinkled flesh that I swear winked at me. It was surrounded
by a frame of short bushy curly hair that accentuated the glory of the
growth in the middle. His deep red balls glowed with colour and were devoid
of hair. I would learn later that he kept the hairs trimmed and shaved his
balls as he thought it more hygienic because he was constantly in tracksuits
throughout his working day. It was my first glimpse of a real live naked man
and I was totally absorbed in the glorious sight that filled my eyes and my
senses. I fell in love with him that very same moment and from then on could
never look at him without seeing that ponderous tube of flesh, the wrinkled
winking end and the brown bush that framed it.
     Seeing his error he quickly closed the lower half of the door and
glared at me. I did not then understand the feeling of disappointment as his
wondrous knob was hidden from my view.
     "What the hell do you want," he spat at me, more so because I had
caught him out.
     "Sorry Sir, I said dragging my embarrassed face upward to his similarly
reddening features. "I have a message from the Old," I stopped myself just
in time, "the Headmaster Sir, he wants to see you right away Sir. He said he
knew you could come now and," I straightened myself up, "he has someone with
him and he says its Very Important, Sir," I bleated. Still it was an
important bleat.
     "Bugger," `Bendy' (as he was know as) Benson slammed the top half of
the door shut, which was not a good idea as the door now swung slightly open
and I was treated to the sight of `Bendy' putting on his track suit. I
noticed because I had a good look that like the boys, his bottoms went on
last and I was able to take a long lingering look at his knob as he bounced
around hurriedly getting dressed. He pulled the door open and called,
"Harris," and then seeing me added, "What are you doing here, get along to
your lesson lad," and in a louder voice shouted now, "Harris where the
bloody hell are you?"
     "Here sir," spoke Harris bounding into view, "I'm here now sir." He had
one leg in his shorts and was trying to get the second in as he spoke,
almost toppling over when the first attempt failed.
     "Harris," Bendy spoke authoritatively, "the Head needs to see me
urgently. Can you get the class up to the gym and get them paired up for
circuit training and Harris," he added with a growl, "that means you too, I
expect to see sweat running down your face when I get back. Do you hear me
boy?" and he strode away.
     "Yes sir," saluted Harris, which turned into a two-finger salute as Mr
Benson's back came into view.
Harris now turned to me. I had been watching him trying to get his shorts on
and was still engrossed in his long knob and was comparing it to Mr
Benson's. Due to his salute he was holding his shorts with one hand and this
had brought the top of his shorts under his knob and it was sort of pointing
the head towards me. I was fascinated that his did not end in a wrinkled tip
and I thought I saw a flash of dark pink in the tip.
"Well now what have we here," he sneered again.
     My head shot up to look at him face to face. Red though I was I went
redder and to add to that I was now terrified. I did not know what I had
done was wrong but I sensed I was in deep trouble, I shivered with terror.
     "Like looking at knobs do we," he sneered softly with a look of disdain
in his eyes.
     I looked wildly around. With Mr Benson gone the class was now loud and
rowdy and misbehaving. Around me boys were indulging in the changing room
game of trying to pull down each other's shorts and I was acutely aware of
the knobs that were springing into view as friends and enemies delighted in
exposing each other. In view of the fact that they had all recently been
changing, oblivious of their near nudity, this seemed daft but it was a fun
game.
     I turned back to Harris terrified of what he would do. In my mind he
was almost a Master, hadn't Bendy put him in charge.
     "Here lads," he called loudly, "we've got a nosey parker in the room."
The others slowly ceased their noise and turned towards him.
     I felt my bladder weaken at the sight of all those big bulging groins
looking at me.
"Grab him," Harris shouted, natural leader that he was.
     I did not stand a chance and gave only token resistance as the nearest
boys grabbed me and lifted me off my feet.
     "We all know what to do with a nosey parker, don't we?" he called out
as he stepped towards me. The others crowded around and I was now hoisted
higher by two lads who now had me in their vicelike grasp. Harris gave me a
big beaming smile which went through me like a hot knife and I trembled in
anticipation of I don't know what.
     He grasped me by the belt and began to undo it. I looked down
uncomprehending. As my belt was loosened other hands grabbed my shirt and
pulled it upwards, dragging my blazer with it, leaving my tie to hang down
over my exposed chest and belly. I began to fight my captors who simply
laughed and held me even more tightly.
     Harris now yelled out loud and as he did so he bent down to the ground
and with him went my trousers that he had now unzipped and also my knickers.
Such was the force he pulled down and such was the height I was held at that
my knickers were caught in my trousers under my hanging feet. I had been
debagged and more than that deknickered as well. I was swung around, my
little knob, which had shrunk even more in terror, and shock, was waved in
the air as I was spun around so that all could see my shame. Tears pricked
my eyes and I went a deeper shade of red.
     A cry went up and I was aware of the laughing circle as I was swept
around. At last I was dropped to my feet and the big event over I was left
crying to dress myself. I tried not to sob in front of them but had to let
go a deep breath that ended in a sorrowful cry. I bent down to grab my
clothes and because of the tangle fell over trying to sort them out.
     To my surprise it was Harris who caught me.
     "Hey now," he said softly, "here don't cry. It was only a bit of fun,"
and then he looked at me closely, "bugger," he said, "you're a First Year.
Sorry we don't usually deknicker first years, I am sorry about that you must
have been terrified?"
     "Yes," I sobbed openly.
     "Don't cry," he said with concern colouring his voice." Here let me
help," and he carried me to the nearest bench and sat me down. He sorted out
my knickers and pulled them above my shoes and then eased my trousers up as
well. "There you should be able to stand now." he smiled. I did so and he
knelt down and pulled up my knickers across my now even tinier knob and
balls. He arranged my shirt and tie and then did up my trousers, I had not
been dressed like that since I was a baby and it was somehow comforting. He
rubbed my hair as my sobs subsided.
     "There," he whispered, "all better now?"

     I looked up at him through tear stained eyes.

     "Yes," I hiccupped.

     "Good boy," he said.

     I felt like a beloved dog that had done something right and felt an
overwhelming emotion flood though me. I smiled slowly. I thought wildly `I
think I like him' and my hero worship of my abuser began.

     "That's even better," he smiled back. "You okay now?"
     I nodded; again he patted my hair.
     "What's your name?" he asked softly, making me feel even more at ease.


     "Rob er Robert," and remembering the need for surnames added hurriedly,
"Marsh, my names Marsh."

     "Rob will do," he smiled. "We'd best get you back to your lesson," he
said, "where should you be then Rob?"

     "M- M -Music," I stuttered aglow as he used my first name.

     "Oh well that's easy," he giggled, "we can do that on the way," and
turning to the now quite line of boys he shouted, "Come on you lot upstairs
and get sweating and to help, last one in the gym gets stripped."
A huge shout went up and the line dissipated into a melee that thronged
through the swinging doors. We followed a bit more sedately the thrusting
tide that swirled up the stairs.

     "You'll be last," I said concerned about my hero.

     "True." he replied, "but Rob, by the time I get in they will have set
upon some other bugger, besides if they do work it out, I don't mind having
me tackle waved in the air, its one of the biggest." he added with pride,
"and some of them get jealous."

     I giggled at this but loved the thought of him being exposed like I
was.
     "Besides," he added, "you ain't a bad size for your age Rob, at least
you got some hair down there, Not many First Year's have pubes." he praised
me.

     Whilst I did not understand the word pubes I took it as great praise
and my elation knew no bounds as I stood before the Music Teacher with
Harris who had his hand around me as he explained my lateness due to my
errand for the Headmaster. I could see the interest and envy in the other
boy's eyes and I knew that at least for that day my stature amongst them had
altered.
     After that Harris was always fair with me, but he always called me Rob
never Marsh when we came across each other, I worshipped him and was always
on the look out to help him. I know now that I was probably a pain in the
bum but he was never harsh with me and then our relationship changed.
     It was some two weeks later that I was caught short and had to use the
bog. I had a chill of some sort and had to take a leak at the most
unfortunate of times. I had just left the building when the need to piss got
me, it was probably going from warm to cold air that did it but I had to go
even though I knew I would only manage a slight dribble.

     We were not allowed inside the school buildings at break but there was
always a prefect on duty to let you in and there were specific toilets that
we were allowed to use. I was duly let in by one of the boys who had held me
up when I had been debagged, he smiled at me, "Go on tosspot," he said, It
was a name the Fifth year used for First Years and most of us including
myself had no idea what the phrase meant but in my case it was becoming a
personal name that I was to be known by.
     In my urgent need I darted into the nearest toilet only to realise as I
entered that this was the Fifth Years bog and I was totally out of bounds,
but I had to go and so I found myself straining at the urinal and standing
next to Harris.
     "Whoa Rob," he said, "your not supposed to be in here."
     I blurted out my problem and he nodded and I strained and strained and
finally dribbled the inch of piss I so urgently needed to get rid off. At
last finished I relaxed, Harris was still standing at the urinal and I
watched fascinated as he arranged his knob so it stuck out and he pissed
without having to hold his knob. I was impressed and said so.
     "Cor," I spoke admiringly, "I wish mine was that big I could piss like
that." I stood watching intently.
He smiled and to impress me shook his waist to get rid of the last drips. My
mouth opened at this talent.

     "I forgot you like to look at cocks," he said, "big ain't it?"

     I nodded still intent on his thick tube. To my surprise it seemed to be
getting even bigger as I watched.
     "It gets bigger you know," he spoke with pride and giving me a sideways
look added, "would you like to see how big?"
     "Cor can I?" I answered watching in open-mouthed amazement as his cock
extended and thickened and a small pinkish tip began to appear. My hand
itched at my side, for some reason I wanted to hold it, to touch it.
     I had not realised Harris was watching me intently.
     "Would you like to see it get as big as it can?" he asked softly
intently.
     "Yes please," I begged.
     "You may have to hold it for me," he whispered even lower, watching my
concentrated gaze at his rearing tube of pinkish muscle.
     I trembled and looked at him with utmost yearning, "Oh can I?" I asked
breathlessly.
      "Wait here," he commanded.
     I heard him call out to the Duty Prefect. "Mitch I want a shit, Make
sure no-one comes I until I leave, Okay."
     I heard Mitch smile back, "Wanker," he said.
     I had heard the word before many a time but it was still a word I had
no knowledge of its meaning.
Harris laughed, "In that case you'd bloody well make sure no one comes in
except me," he said.
I did not understand why they both laughed out loud, I was anxious to get my
hands on Harris's knob.
He returned smiling, "Okay we're safe now," he said and added, "follow me."
     I followed him inside one of the end cubicles. He took off his blazer
and hung it up and then undid his trousers and pulled them down along with
his knickers to his ankles. He also undid his shirt so it hung either side
of his body. His knob had got smaller but was still thick and I could see a
small drip of clear thick liquid almost hanging of the end of his knob, The
pink tip had also disappeared back inside the tube.
     "Watch," he whispered sitting down on the pan, "and when you think you
know what to do you can take over."
     I watched, mesmerised as he took the end of his knob in his hand and
began to move it back and forth, which turned into up and down as his knob
got harder and harder. He started to move faster and faster and as he did so
his sausage took on a pinkish glow and then it began to pulse and throb and
best of all the pink tip became a pink ball and I could clearly see his
piss-
slit. The head was now covered in a clear thick liquid and I thought the tip
looked at me and smiled.
     "Well?" he said, he had stopped stroking it.
     I looked at him blankly not wanting to tear my eyes away from the
marvellous sight.
     "Do you think you could do that for me," he sounded slightly annoyed.
     "Oh yess," I said and leapt forward to finally grab him.
     "Ouch," he cried, "here that hurt."
     "Sorry," I said crestfallen, had I hurt him badly.
     "Come here," he ordered and I stood in front of him, He began to pull
at my clothes. I backed off.
     "Look," he said, "I'll show you how to do it to your knob and then
you'll know how to do it to mine."
     "Oh," I said and stood still as for the second time he pulled down my
trousers and knickers.
     "Here sit on my lap," he told me.
     I did so and as his hand began to stroke my own cock and to my surprise
it also rose at his command I began to experience the wonderful sensations
that emanated from what he was doing to me. I watched open-eyed as my own
pink tip came into view and then as he rubbed it actually began to hurt a
little. I squirmed and wriggled and he asked me, "what's wrong. Don't you
like it?"
     "I do," I replied, "but it hurts a bit now."
     "Oh," he said and I watched astounded as he took some of the clear
liquid dripping from the head of his knob and spread it on the tip of mine.
"I forgot your too young for pre-cum. Is that better?"
     The sensations this change had produced had made me forget the question
about pre-cum and I was now wriggling with delight at what he was doing to
me and the feeling he was causing though my entire on fire body. Then he
stopped.
     "Aww," I complained.
     He smiled at me, "You were supposed to be doing it to me, remember?" he
said; "now it's your turn and when you get the idea, we can do it to each
other. Is it a bargain?"
     In reply I carefully took his knob back in my hand and began to move it
in the same way he had done to me. He also began to twitch and wriggle and
his knob kept slipping out of my hand.
     "I think it might be better if I stand," he said and we rearranged
ourselves.
     He was right, it was and soon he was groaning and urging me on to
faster and harder movements. I loved the feel of his tender hardness, the
way it pulsed in my hand the extra drips of liquid that dribbled from the
tip. I felt a sense of power over him although he was directing every
movement. I felt something important was going to happen, his knob was
getting even more harder, it pulsed faster, his breathing had changed and he
had began to moan softly as his sensations flowed through and over him so I
was quite surprised when he took my hand off him.
     "Rob," he said, "I am nearly ready to spunk, now I know you don't know
what that means but this is what I want you to do. Take off your shirt and
blazer and tie because I am going to spunk on you and we don't want anyone
else to know about it. When I mean spunk I mean I'm going to shoot a white
liquid from my knob and when that begins it will make me feel really good so
I don't want you to be frightened about what is going to happen."
     As he spoke I did as he told me. I felt very calm and very important I
sat back and he leaned forward and rubbed the wet tip of his knob across my
chest. It felt cold where the slime cooled as he rubbed it around.
     "I'm ready," he said, "now coat your palm with the pre-cum and pull
back my foreskin with the other and rub the head on my knob into the wet bit
on your palm and do it faster and faster until I tell you to stop."
     Excited I did as he was told, again his knob got hard, really hard and
the slimy tip got wetter and wetter and my palm got slicker and slicker. I
was moving the foreskin so fast I was beginning to hurt when I felt his knob
throb and pulse and I could see his balls tense and appear to disappear
inside his body and then, the thing I was holding became alive and thrusting
hard it erupted and began to spit pulse after pulse of a thickish white
pearly liquid. Over my chest it went, over my face one spurt sprayed. One
even hit the wall of the cubicle behind me.
     Harris groaned breathing fast through gritted teeth and he fell forward
putting out his hands to lean against the back wall. "Stop," he breathed,
"stop now," he said and intuitively I gentled the foreskin back over the
purple animal that had so viciously attacked and enthralled me. He sagged
down towards me and I looked up. I did not understand the look in his eyes
but it was wonderful to behold and I felt a rush of elation course though
me, as I knew I had caused that to happen. He gave me another emotional look
and for some reason I could not understand I leaned forward and kissed the
tip of his pearly covered knob.
     As I did so he groaned and pushed gently forward. I let the tip of his
knob move pass my kissing lips and when I gently squeezed the slowly pulsing
tube I was aware his knob had delivered a final small spurt of his spunk
inside my mouth. I gentled it around my mouth, rubbing it back against his
knobhead and then slipping his knob out I rolled the stuff around my mouth,
tasting it. He was looking intently at me. I swallowed the stuff that tasted
salty and spicy and then leaned forwards again and licked the rest of his
knob. He groaned and I let him slide the tip back inside my mouth
     "Oh God, that was good, fucking good," he blasphemed and held me by the
head with his knob trapped inside my mouth. Slowly it began to shrink and
slipped between my lips. He swayed back against the cubicle door. I could
not put into words the total feelings and sensations of happiness and
fulfilment that I felt at that moment but it was good, not only good it was
`fucking good'. I felt movement down my cheek. I was not aware I had cried
but felt it was proper and wiped my tears away, but it was not a tear it was
more of his spunk. As he watched me I licked it off my finger. When he
leaned down to kiss me I could not find anything wrong with that, even when
he put his tongue inside my mouth. I was to learn to love it when he kissed
me like that.
     He broke the kiss off and pulled me up on my feet. We went back to our
old position and once again he took my own knob in his hand. I was not aware
how hard and hot it was until he began to stroke me. Once again he used his
own juices to lubricate me, only this time it was the spunk off my chest he
used. Higher and higher he took me until I knew some of what he had felt.
The feeling was exquisite and I found myself tongue deep in his mouth as I
came down from the dizzy heights he had taken me.
     "What was that?" I eventually asked him.
     "That," he smiled kissing me on the tip of my nose, "was wanking,"
     We giggled. In the distance the end of break bell sounded.

To be continued...