Let’s just disclaim everything we can think of, shall we? Right, that gets that out of the way.
Well, for those of you who can remember the introduction to this story, (posted as chapter 0), you’ll be pleased to know we finally got there. Read on and enjoy!
I’ve been delighted to receive some feedback over the past couple of weeks from guys who haven’t written before, which is most encouraging. But more feedback is always welcome and I promise to respond to it. Please send your comments to email@example.com and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
It’s Tuesday lunchtime. Peter’s positioned right on Mr. Burman’s patrol route. Rob and I are watching from a distance. As Mr. Burman approaches, Peter drops the cigarette he’s been holding, just like I told him to. Mr. Burman has words with him; a few seconds later Peter heads off in the direction of the music rooms. So far, so good.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
I check my watch; it’s nearly five to one; the bell will go soon. Suddenly Peter appears, looking very pleased with himself.
“Well?” I demand.
“He did it,” he says.
“He bummed you right there in the music room?” Rob questions.
“Yeah; he caned me first, then when he saw I’d got a hard-on, he told me to bend over the music stand again. Then he pulled my shorts and underpants down and bummed me. He’s got a big one and he cums loads.”
“We need to check,” Rob insists.
We troop up to the boys’ room by the science lab. The place is empty. Peter goes into one of the stalls, drops his shorts and bends over. I feel the back of his underpants; they’re damp and sticky. Rob feels him too then pulls Peter’s briefs down a little so we can see his bum. Well, there’s no doubt at all now; he’s been bummed all right.
“That’s a pound you owe me,” I say, smirking. I turn to Peter, who’s fully dressed again. “So have you fixed up to see him again?”
“Yeah, tomorrow, half past seven, like you told me.”
“I can’t believe he went for that,” Rob says, shaking his head. “He must be stupid!”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
I’m hidden inside the trunk store. I have one fear; that Burman won’t turn up, and Peter will forget and leave me locked in here. Then the shit would be in the fan. He shouldn’t forget; I’ve told him enough times, but it’s the one way this could go badly wrong, so the worry’s still gnawing at me. I flick on my safety light and check my watch. It’s almost half past seven; I shouldn’t have much longer to wait.
There are voices outside; one of them sounds like Peter, but it’s a bit muffled so I can’t be sure. As soon as the key hits the lock I turn the camera on. That’s important; if I didn’t turn it on until they were in here Mr. Burman probably would notice it. The door opens and Peter turns the light on. I turn my light on at exactly the same moment, hoping that he won’t notice that either.
I can hardly believe it; everything goes exactly to plan. From the way Mr. Burman’s behaving he doesn’t suspect a thing. First of all they both get naked. I have to admit that Burman’s in better shape than I thought he’d be. I knew he wasn’t fat, but he actually looks better naked than he does when he’s dressed. I guess that’s because of the old fashioned clothes he wears. His dick’s nearly as big as Mr. Atkinson’s was; it’ll be interesting to see how well Peter copes with it. They get on the bed with Burman giving Peter a blow-job. Man! He’s obviously done that before!
Finally Peter gets on all fours exactly where I told him to; Mr. Burman gets behind him and sticks his big cock right up Peter’s arse. He starts to fuck him, holding him round the thighs and pulling his dick almost the whole way out before slamming it back in again. Man! It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen! I’m almost cumming just watching them. Well, if he calls my bluff and I have to sell this film, it won’t be that bad; you’ll certainly be able to see who it is and what they’re doing. And I needn’t have worried about Peter; the way he’s moaning, he loves having that big cock up his bum.
Mr. Burman reaches down and plays with Peter’s dick. I can’t see it too well from my position hidden behind the trunks, but it’s obvious what he’s doing. Peter goes wild, gasping, clawing at the bed and banging his head against the mattress; a moment later he spunks in Mr. Burman’s hand. Mr. Burman grabs the pillow and puts under Peter’s tummy. He pushes Peter down on top of it and fucks the shit out of him. Wow! That was unbelievable! After a few seconds Mr. Burman pulls his dick out. Peter gets up on all fours again, turning his back to me so I can see his bum with the spunk dribbling down his legs. I get a good shot of it then switch off the camera; it’s time to make myself known.
When I emerge from behind the trunks Burman nearly shits himself! He’s none too pleased when I put my little business proposition to him, but he calms down a bit when he realises that I won’t be back for more. Like I reckoned, two hundred quid’s nothing for him. He calms down a whole lot more when I tell him that if he and Peter want to keep going together, there won’t be a problem with that either; I even suggest when they could meet without people getting suspicious. By the end he’s okay about it, like he appreciates all the planning I’ve done. He actually seems more friendly than he ever has in class. Now all he’s got to do is pay up, but he will. I’ve got him by the balls if he doesn’t.
I’m not sure how Rob’s going to react to Peter going with Mr. Burman but I can have a pretty good guess; he won’t like it one little bit. But that’s probably for the best too. Rob’s been doing stuff with Darren, but he’s had to keep it very quiet; I don’t think he’s even told Peter about it. But if he and Peter split up because Peter’s going with someone else, he and Darren will be able to do what they like. Rob won’t have thought of that; he’s too honest, it’s not the way his mind works.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
I’m lying in Will’s bed; it’s just coming up to six o’clock and I’ve just fucked him stupid like I usually do this time on a Friday morning.
“So are you still going with Mr. Cooper?” I whisper.
“Yes, of course,” he says, smiling.
“So you really like going with him then?”
“Yes; he’s great,” he says quietly. “I don’t know what I’d have done without him. Last year I went through a really bad time. I was tired all the time and my legs kept getting sore; I was struggling to jump as high as I had the year before, and when I tried hurdling it just felt so awkward. I thought there must be something wrong with me, but he said it was because I was growing so fast. So he cut down my training and really helped me through it; just told me to keep believing in myself and it’d sort itself out when my growth spurt finished. Well, I’m feeling much better now and getting back into it again. If he hadn’t been there helping me I think I’d have given up.”
“That’s cool,” I say absently, smiling and licking his nose.
We lie snuggled up together not saying anything. He’s given me plenty to think about. I hadn’t realised how much help Mr. Cooper had given him, but that’s typical Will; left to himself he’d never talk about something like that. Of course, Mr. Cooper could just help him without fucking his arse, like Mr. Chandler helps me, but maybe Will needs that too. So is that the difference between Will and me? I don’t need anyone to tell me to believe in myself; I never have. Deep down I’ve always known I could do pretty much what I wanted; I didn’t need anyone to tell me. But Will does; maybe Leo Johnston did too. Is that why I wouldn’t want a relationship like that, but they do? I think there may be more to it, but I’m sure that has something to do with it.
In a funny way, it ties in with something else. I’m just starting to understand how good Mr. Cooper is. Most of the schools we play against at rugby are prep schools and have about the same number of boys as we do. But we beat them all last season, most of them quite easily, and look like doing the same again. Yeah, I know we’re lucky this year having some very strong lads playing up front, but last year our pack was quite ordinary, so that’s not the real story. Rugby’s all about teamwork, and we’re just that much better drilled and better organised than most of the schools we play against.
That’s down to Mr. Cooper. He’s taught me the game since I was eight years old. As soon as I got selected to play scrum half for the school I knew what to do. A lot of the training we do isn’t that physical; it’s about making sure we’re working together, playing as a unit. Mr. Cooper spends hours with us. I’m sure he wouldn’t spend that long if he had a wife and kids to go home to, but he hasn’t; he’s got Will instead. I know I wouldn’t want it to be me, but Will seems more than happy, so who am I to argue?
I guess Mr. Burman must be much the same; he certainly puts the hours in. I’m not a musician but I listen a lot. I always go to the concerts he puts on; they do some really good stuff considering how few boys there are here. One thing’s bothering me though; if Peter does keep going with him, what’s he going to get out of it?
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
As well as Public Schools Scholarship, I’m going to have one more exam to do. Mr. Thompson has decided to enter the four of us who are doing the PSS exam, that’s me, Justin, Craig and Dominic, for ‘O’ level maths next summer. If it had been anyone else I’m not sure I’d have wanted to do it, but Mr. Thompson’s the best teacher ever; I was never any good at maths till he came here. And anyway, ‘passed ‘O’ level maths at thirteen’ will be another thing to add to my list of achievements.
He’s giving us some extra lessons to get us through the stuff we’re going to have to know. We’re starting this afternoon after normal classes have finished. I don’t mind; Rob’s fixed it so that Justin and I have our slots after supper, so I wouldn’t be doing anything important. We’re just getting settled into Mr. Thompson’s classroom when someone else arrives. It’s Deon Hayes; I should have known he’d be here. We settle down to work. I knew Deon was clever; I just didn’t know how clever. The kid’s a fucking genius! He runs rings round the rest of us! Now some kids might resent getting shown up by a younger boy, but I think that’s stupid. Deon’s showing us what we need to aim for; I’ve just got to get my head down and get on with it.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Since we started going together my relationship with Ian hasn’t changed at all. He’s my younger friend, my most loyal supporter, always there when I need him, supporting me, encouraging me, helping me to relax when I’m under a lot of pressure. To be honest, I don’t know what I’d do without him. But if you asked me what he’s got out of our relationship, I’m not sure I could tell you. He does well in class and seems to get on with everybody, but is that because of me? I really don’t know. I think he’s benefited; I certainly hope he has, but I couldn’t tell you exactly how.
With Alex it’s completely different. Our relationship has changed a lot since I first had sex with him. It’s like he’s followed in my footsteps, and now that he’s playing alongside me in the rugby team it feels to me like we’re equals, although I’m not sure that he’d say that. I’m really proud of what he’s achieved, especially after all the shit he had to go through when he first came here. Now it’s his achievement, there’s no mistake about that, but it’s like Mr. Chandler said about helping me with the filming, I feel proud because I helped; I made a difference.
I let us into the trunk store. We step inside and I lock the door behind us. I wrap my arms round him, pulling him into a passionate, sensuous kiss. There’s an intensity about having sex with Alex that I just don’t get with anyone else. We start to undress each other. He’s grown quite a bit over the past few months, and the more he’s grown, the more beautiful he’s become, well, he has to me anyway. He’s not ‘cute’ or ‘pretty’ like Jack or Dominic; he’s got a different kind of beauty, I don’t know what you’d call it, ‘boyishness’ maybe. All I know is that he turns me on like no-one else.
I open his shorts and push them down over his hips. Underneath he’s wearing a pair of white nylon gym shorts.
“What are you wearing those for?” I ask.
“Because I want you to bum me in them!” he whispers.
Man! He’s full of surprises!
“Well, that’s for later,” I say grinning and rubbing noses with him. “Right now I want to suck your cock!”
I pull down his gym shorts, allowing his dick to spring free. That’s grown quite a bit too; it’s well over four inches long but still quite slim. It looks perfect on him and tastes even better. And he can cum; he spunked in my mouth a couple of weeks ago and hasn’t looked back since.
I quickly slip off the rest of my clothes. We get onto the bed, snuggled up together, wrapped in each other’s arms. I roll him onto his back, our lips meeting in another wonderful, mind-blowing kiss, my nostrils full of his sexy boy-smell. Our cocks grind together; being close to him like this is just the most perfect feeling possible. We roll onto our sides, still kissing passionately. He seems to enjoy this as much as I do. Eventually we pull back. He’s smiling. Man! He is so beautiful when he smiles!”
“Next year, after you’ve left,” he whispers, “I’d like to be Ian’s special friend. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“No, of course not,” I say, running my fingers through is springy fair hair. “I couldn’t think of anyone better. But it’ll be up to Ian to decide if that’s what he wants.”
I reach down and fondle his cock. It’s amazingly hard and throbbing in time with his heart beat. I snake around, resting my head on his tummy, and take it into my mouth. I suck it right down to the base, licking it all over. For me it’s the perfect size, and it smells and tastes wonderful; I could suck it like this for hours and still want more. I let him go and smile up at him, reflecting on how lucky I am to have found someone like him, let alone having Ian as well.
“Can I do you now?” he asks.
“Come on then!” I say, rolling onto my back.
He settles to his task, holding the base of my cock between thumb and index finger; lifting it away from my body while he works his lips and tongue all over it. I lie there totally relaxed, basking in the sensations he’s giving me; out of this world, just like they always are when he sucks me. I squeeze some KY onto my fingers, sliding my hand down his back and over his bum. I locate his hole and gently push inside. He alters position slightly, cocking his leg up to make it easier. I push in deeper, touching his prostate. His cock twitches against my thigh. I push in a second finger, slowly twisting both fingers round inside him. I let my fingers slide out. He looks up at me.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Yeah!” he breathes. “Is it okay if we do it like I said?”
“Yeah, if that’s what you want,” I say, relishing the idea. “We’ll have to do it standing up though.”
I grab the pillow and place it on the desk. Alex slips his gym shorts back on and bends over it, his chest resting on the pillow. I coat my dick with KY and move in behind him. I lower his shorts and inch or so to give me more room then guide my dick up the leg, working it around till I find his pucker. One firm thrust and I’m inside him.
“Oooh, Toby!!” he moans. “Oh, do it! Please!”
I hold his legs just below his shorts, slowly pulling him onto me. I push over his prostate.
“Ohh!!” he gasps, his cock twitching wildly against his shorts.
I keep pulling him back until he’s got the whole thing, my tummy pressed tight against his bum. I take a deep breath and get to work, starting off nice and slow, just like Mr. Burman did with Peter, but I guess I don’t have his control; I try to keep it steady but within a couple of minutes I’m pounding his bum as hard as I can go.
“Oh! Oh yeah,” he groans, his breathing short and uneven. “Oh! Nnng!! Aarrgghhh!!!”
He shudders violently, his bum clamping my dick like a vice. A moment later his cock rears up and he spunks in his shorts. I lose it completely, fucking him senseless.
“Ohh!! Oh fuck!!” I gasp. “Ohh!! Ohh!! Nnnnnnggg!!!”
Spunk barrels through my dick, blasting into his bum in several big wads. I’m so dizzy I can hardly stand up. I sink down over his back. Man! That was something else! Very, very slowly I let my dick slide out of him. It’s so sensitive I can’t bear to touch it. A wet patch spreads across the back of his shorts. I’ve cum loads; I knew I had. He turns to face me, his eyes sparkling.
“Toby!” he breathes. “That was the best, man!”
I hold him to me, our chests pounding together. He looks up.
“You don’t think I’m dirty, do you?” he asks.
“No,” I say, smiling down at him. “I got bummed like that once. It was the canoe instructor at the kids’ holiday centre last summer. He was twenty and really hot. He gave me these shorts to put on then bummed me in them. He kept the shorts as a souvenir.”
“So you do like going with older guys then?” he asks.
“Yeah, sometimes,” I say. “If they’re nice and don’t try to push me into it.”
“Oh,” he says, pulling his grey school shorts back on “I love having your spunk inside me. I’m going to keep it there until it’s almost shower time.”
I smile to myself. He is something else, and I love him to bits.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Our second extra maths lesson is just coming to and end. Another of my mad ideas suddenly hits me.
“Deon,” I ask. “You know you’re really into science and that. D’you read science fiction?”
“Yeah!” he says enthusiastically. “Lots of it!”
“Arthur C. Clarke?”
“Yeah man!” he says, grinning from ear to ear. “He’s the best!”
“There’s this new kid in Upper Fourth,” I say quietly. “His name’s Teddy. He’s into all that sort of thing. Well, as you know yourself, he can’t find anyone else to talk to about it. I wondered if you might like to meet him.”
“Yeah!” he says, hardly able to contain himself. “It’d be great to find someone I can actually talk to for a change.” He pauses for a moment. “Sorry, that came out wrong!”
“One thing I have to tell you,” I say. “Teddy had a pretty bad time at the schools he’s been to before, so he’s way behind where he should be. But he reads all the time, and he’s well into science and computers; he’s definitely not stupid. Are you into computers?”
“Yeah, just starting to learn about them,” he says. “They’re going to be the future. And maybe I could help him on things he gets stuck on.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” I say smiling. I lower my voice to a whisper. “There is one other thing. I think he likes --- you know, like Jonathan.”
“Oh!” he whispers back. “Is he nice looking?”
“Not bad,” I say, “but that’s up to you to decide; meet first and see how you get on. Wait outside the refectory after supper and I’ll introduce you.”
“Thanks!” he says. “I’ll be there!”
As I leave the classroom, Justin’s waiting for me.
“Toby!” he says, giggling. “You ought to start a dating agency!”
“You’re not complaining, are you?” I ask.
“No, I think it’s great! I wouldn’t have found Patrick if it hadn’t been for you.”
“That’s okay then!” I say, grinning at him.
It could come at a price though. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to need a favour off Justin, but I very well might.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Our morning meeting with Mr. Halford is just about to end.
“Right, gentlemen,” he says. “You’re doing a good job; vigilant but not heavy-handed, so well done and keep up the good work. Any questions?”
There’s an uneasy pause; nobody puts their hand up.
“Okay,” he says. “Off you go. Toby, will you come to my office at break please. Don’t worry; you’re not in trouble.”
I’ve no idea what he wants to see me about, but as long as I’m not in trouble, I don’t really care.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
I knock on the door of Mr. Halford’s office, pause for a second and walk in. He’s sitting behind his desk.
“You asked to see me sir,” I say.
“Yes,” he says brightly. “Take a seat.”
Well that’s different; I’ve never been asked to sit down in here before.
“It’s about your Public Schools’ Scholarship application,” he says. “I notice that you’ve put down Winchester as your first choice.”
“Yes sir,” I confirm.
“You know that’s the hardest school of all to get into, don’t you?” he says, looking me right in the eye. “And even harder to get a scholarship for. I don’t think we’ve ever had anyone get one.”
“Yes sir,” I say. “That’s why I want to go there.”
“I thought it might be,” he says, smiling, “but you’ll find it very stuffy and old fashioned after this place. Are you really sure that’s what you want?”
“Sir,” I say, “I want to make films, films that get people talking, change the way they think. If I’m going to do that, I’m not just going to have to be good; I’m going to have to be the best. Nobody in our family works in film or television; my uncle Andrew knows a few film producers and directors; that’s about it. I put down Winchester as my first choice because a lot of really clever boys go there. That will give me the chance to compete against the best. That’s what I need, and if that means I have to put up with some stuffy, old-fashioned attitudes, I’ll just have to get on with it.”
“Well, I can’t fault you for that,” he says, smiling, “even though I’m not sure it’s really what you need. As far as film and TV goes, you do have one other contact; James Pearson, Russell’s father. He’s been very impressed by the stuff you’ve done and the dedication you’ve shown, so make sure you keep in touch with him. He’s in quite a senior position within BBC Drama and ideally placed to help you get started. He’ll be here again on Sports Day so make sure you get his contact details.”
“Thanks sir,” I say.
He looks at me, still smiling.
“You’re so like your dad,” he says. “It’s no wonder you two don’t get on very well.”
I stare at him with my eyes popping out; he just said I’m like my dad!
“Oh, you probably think you’re nothing like your dad,” he continues. “You certainly have very different ideas. But your dad’s a very strong personality, just like you are. He may or may not be the best heart surgeon in the country. What he is, is the one who doesn’t suffer fools, doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, gets thing done, makes things happen, and that’s just the way you are. You were bound to clash; it’s like they say in the Westerns, ‘This house isn’t big enough for the both of us’.”
I have to stop myself giggling; that was a classic movie line he just quoted. He’s right too; I’d just never thought about it like that.
“Well,” he says. “I don’t have to ask you if you’re fully committed; that goes without saying. So give it your very best shot; if there’s any help you need, my door’s always open; just come and ask.”
I sit there almost overwhelmed; it’s a lot to take in. He’s been so different from the Mr. Halford I thought I knew.
“Sir,” I say. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but after Mr. Atkinson left and you were teaching us English, you were really brilliant. Why didn’t you keep doing that rather than doing, you know, what you do now?”
“Well,” he says, smiling at me. “I originally came here as Head of English and in charge of cricket. I’d been here four years when the previous Deputy left. I had a wife and two hungry boys to look after; I needed to do the best for them. The Deputy’s job is a lot more responsibility, but it pays a lot more money, so I applied for it and got it.”
“Sorry, sir,” I say, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t know you had kids.”
“Yes, Greg’s just started at Bristol University, reading English; Tom’s in the sixth form at Charterhouse. He went there on a scholarship; we couldn’t have afforded it otherwise.”
I’m even more impressed; he could have just told me to mind my own business.
“Sir,” I say, still trying to work it out, “you know when I used to get in trouble a lot, you used to cane me and sometimes you’d hit me really hard, like you enjoyed doing it.”
“It’s part of the job,” he says. “D’you remember the day you took a pea-shooter into the chapel?”
“Sir,” I respond.
“I gave you a good thrashing that day. Now I want you to think for a moment; suppose I’d let you get away with it. What d’you think might have happened the next time we went to chapel?”
“There’d have been more boys with pea-shooters.”
“Exactly!” he says. “And then I’d have had a real problem. So I sent out a very clear message, and it worked. You also used to get into arguments with Mr. Perkins. Now suppose I’d let you get away with that. What d’you think might have happened then?”
“Other boys would have started arguing with him.”
“And before anyone knew what was happening, his lessons would have turned into riots. Your parents pay a considerable amount of money to send you here. D’you think they’d pay that sort of money to send you to a school where that sort of thing was allowed to happen?”
“So I had to make sure it didn’t, and I’m pleased to say it never did. It really wasn’t about punishing you. Have you seen ‘The Godfather’ yet?”
“Yes,” I say, somewhat startled by the sudden change of subject. “Uncle Andrew took me to see it just before we came back to school. It was brilliant!”
“Wonderful film,” he says, nodding. “Brando was fantastic; he has to get an Oscar for that performance. Well, there’s a line in that film that just about sums it up.”
“What’s that, sir?” I ask, still rather confused.
“Nothing personal, strictly business,” he says, looking at me intently.
Right; I get it now.
“Sir,” I say quietly, finally starting to understand why he treated me like he did.
“Go on, Toby,” he says smiling. “You’ve missed your break!”
“Thanks sir,” I say, smiling back.
I leave his office, heading for my next class. It’s hard to describe how I feel, relieved, elated, like I just crossed an important bridge. I guess I did; he pretty much treated me like an adult in there. After all this time thinking how horrible he was, I’ve finally worked out that he was just doing what he had to do; he’s not horrible at all.