J. H. P. Cash, 367
When I Were Nowt But a Lad 6
We woke at dawn. Iain was naked now - he must have taken off his pyjama bottoms during the night. I had turned away from him in my sleep, and he was spooned against my back. My pyjama bottoms were still tangled around my ankles. Iain was fondling my cock and I could feel his stiffy against my lower back. "OK?" he asked quietly. I nodded and turned to face him.
"Sorry I was such a baby before."
"Don't be silly. It's OK to be upset." Iain kissed my forehead and his cock rubbed against my tummy. I took hold of it.
"Can I wank you again?" I asked.
"No. Suck me." Iain said, turning onto his back and raising himself up on his elbows.
I moved down the bed and rested my cheek on his stomach. Iain pushed gently on the back of my head and I started sucking him. Sucking an older boy was different to sucking an age-mate. It wasn't really just the size alone, but, for me, the excitement of giving pleasure to a Big Boy. Simon had nurtured my sexual submissiveness and there was a definite thrill in "giving in" to an older boy's needs.
Iain soon lifted my head away from his groin. "Wait up" he said, pulling me up and reaching down to open the drawer that was built-in beneath the bed. He opened a jar of Vaseline and dipped a finger in. I lay with my head against his chest as he reached round and felt between my arse cheeks. He stroked my arsehole and then began to press in. "You've been bum-fucked, yeah?" he checked.
"Uh huh." I replied. His finger slipped in. "Only not by a Big Boy."
"OK. We'll take our time." Iain held out the jar and said, "Put some on my cock."
It was a wonderful thrill to prepare an older boy's dick for fucking me.
I smeared loads of the gel onto him.
"Roll over" Iain said, and I turned onto my side, kicking off my pyjama bottoms and reaching back to pull on my upper buttock, opening my arse to him. His cock pressed in and and my hole simply opened to it, allowing it to slip in easily. But then there was a sudden, awful pain. I gasped and Iain paused.
"Wait up. Don't go in any more" I pleaded.
"It's OK, just relax. Get used to it." I was scared now, but Iain's gentle nuzzling of my neck and his large hand on my hip, holding us steady, eventually allowed me to relax.
It took ages. At first any tiny move hurt badly. Eventually, I could allow him in a little more without too much pain.
Slowly I began to push back and take more of his cock into me. The pain was less sharp, but filled me so that I clenched my fists tightly.
Iain fucked me for a while on my side, but then rolled me further over and pressed his knees between my legs, spreading them as I lay on my tummy. I raised my arse up and Iain began kissing and licking my neck. I turned my head and strained to kiss him back. He began to grunt as he pushed in. As far as I can recall this was the first time that a partner had expressed their sexual abandon quite so volubly. I let myself go a little and started making whimpering moans. It certainly hurt, being fucked by Iain's large cock, but the hurt was OK: part of the pleasure of giving myself to an older, bigger boy. I remember being so happy hearing his grunts of pleasure.
Iain raised himself off me and pulled me up. "Get on your hands and knees." he said. I lifted up, pushing back to keep his cock from slipping out. When I was up on all fours, Iain knelt back and pulled my arse back into his lap.
"Just hold still." he said, running his hands down my flanks and reaching between my legs to grab my cock. I was only semi-hard, despite the excitement and fullness that made me feel as if I was having a constant, extended orgasm. He played with me briefly and then pushed me forward off his lap and began moving inside me again. He was very slow this time. Any remaining tension seemed to flow out of me and I gave myself over completely to being fucked by this Big Boy who'd been so good to me.
During the rest of that day my arsehole was sore. Sitting in lessons or changing for swimming practice I would get a little twinge of sharp pain and my attention would be drawn to the ache in my bum. It was a little scary, but I remember that I felt proud. Iain had fucked me and I'd taken his big cock. The ache gave me a secret pleasure.
I now had crushes on both Mike and Iain. I admired them both, and particularly liked their easy-going, friendly natures which led them to assert their authority as monitors without a hint of the bullying that most Seniors were prone to. A simple "Alright, settle down lads..." would be enough to quieten a dormitory full of noisy activity and get us into our beds for Lights Out.
I remember feeling slightly guilty for having had sex with both of them. The example of Steve and Dab made me wonder whether relationships between older and younger boys demanded more loyalty. But Dab was by now regularly having sex with at least three or four Senior boys and, when I checked with him, he just said that there weren't really any rules.
"Mike and Iain have other junior boys, so it's not like they're going to mind you doing it with other guys. They're leaving at the end of term anyway, so it's not like you're going to have a big love affair or something."
I remembered when Dab had told me about his sadness when Steve was about to leave school.
"Just do what you feel good doing; don't get hung up about it." he said now. It was the early 70s and the Sixties were beginning to filter through to British public schools.
I started writing my sexual memoirs at the request of an online undergraduate friend who had been to an all-boys private day school at which there was little sex between the boys. He was keen to hear about "what went on at boarding school".
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