Date: Sun, 6 Dec 2020 12:39:51 +0000 From: Robert Thomson Subject: NEW-FOUND SWIMMING FRIEND --- AND MORE Don't forget to donate to Nifty at https://donate.nifty.org/ This story includes frank conversation between two teenage boys and mutual masturbation. Any reader likely to be offended by such material should quit this site at once. NEW-FOUND SWIMMING FRIEND --- AND MORE When I was 8 or 9, my mum taught me to swim. I was quick to learn, soon enjoying swimming. By the time I was 12, I was really good at it, better than anyone else in my class and even in the class above mine, able to do backstroke, breaststroke, butterfly, crawl, and to swim the whole length of a pool underwater. Not far from where we lived was an open-air pool. Heated, it was open from just before Easter until October. With classmates, I had been there many times. The pool was always kept very clean. The changing-room for men & boys was a bit old-fashioned. Alongside the row of lockers were wooden benches to stand on when changing, and kind of thick plastic duckboards on the floor, hot and cold showers, a couple of lav cubicles. You got a locker key on a thick plastic band to fasten round one ankle. It didn't cost much to swim there. The swimmers I had at the time of this story were ones I'd had for a couple of years, not Speedos, but something the same, blue, not much of them. I'd grown a bit, so they barely covered things. Of course, once into the pool, everything shrank, but I had a secret fear of getting a hard-on when out of the water because my cock had got big enough to have stuck up over the waistband. Meaning to buy myself a bigger pair, I hadn't got round to it. That day, I'd gone to the pool alone. After swimming for about an hour, I went to the changing room. To get the smell of the pool off me, I stood under the hot shower, peeling my swimmers off to wring them out while I was in there. Many others did the same, standing naked under the shower. Dried off and back into my clothes, I left the pool. It was quite busy. Right outside was another boy standing there. He had a damp towel under one arm so I supposed he'd been swimming. He wasn't anyone I remembered seeing before that: a head of fair curly hair & bright blue eyes. With a grin, he put out a hand, saying "Hi! I'm Paul". I shook his hand, telling him my name. "You in any hurry?" I wasn't. Just there was a van with a couple of tables & chairs, selling ice-cream, burgers, soft drinks and stuff. I didn't have enough money on me for anything. Paul bought us four cans of soft drinks. We sat down, chatting. It soon emerged that we were the same age within two weeks of each other. We went on talking. The reason why I'd never seen him before was because he was a boarder at a school in Yorkshire, only home for Easter hols. They got close on a month. I thought, lucky sod. We got only ten days at Easter. More chat, then he said "Can I ask you something?" I nodded. "Saw you naked under the shower while I was getting my clothes on. We're the same age. How come you got so much more hair round your cock than me?" "Well, just that my hair's darker than yours, and anyway, it grows in faster for some." He sniggered. "Expect you're right about that, Robert." He went on, looking straight at me. "Suppose you like tugging. I do. It feels great when the jizz comes." That was a surprise but I said "Same here. I love it, but at our school we call it wanking. Jizz? We all call it spunk. What's yours look like when it comes?" "Like when I started doing it, plenty of it but watery. After a month or two, started to get different, white, like thin milk, then stickier & stickier. Smells like nothing else." "Exactly the same with me, Paul. I mostly do it in the shower. That way, I can be sure mine gets washed away down the drain and I can give my cock a squeeze & a good wash. Once when I hadn't done that, some spunk leaked out on my Y-fronts. Often, just after I'm home from school, really desperate for a wank, I get everything off in my bedroom and do it lying on top of my bed. That's OK, but I never know where it's going to shoot out." "You ever had another boy do it for you? I never have." "Me neither, Paul." I wanted to hear more about being a boarder, like living in a dorm with a crowd of other boys. "Not a dorm, Robert. We have a row of small rooms, call them cabins, two boys sharing. What's in our cabins? Two beds, maybe three feet apart, two cupboards for our stuff and a place for hanging clothes. Each of us has a little table & a chair for sitting to do compulsory prep for next day. That's just before our evening meal. No, can't choose who we share with. It's all done according to our surnames. I share with Gordon. He's black." "Black? Bet he has a big cock!" "Sure thing. His is bigger than anyone else in our year. He's like proud of it. Shows it off when we're showering, holding it out with both hands, never hard, mind. Our cabin walls go right up to the ceiling but the front side where the door is, that's less than six feet high, so our House-master can come round to see we're in bed with PJs on. No sleeping naked allowed. Ours always says goodnight to every cabin." What did they wear? At my school, we have to wear a blazer. It has a badge on the pocket and we're not allowed to wear jeans or tight trousers. "We wear a jacket, the school outfitter has a choice of three, that & grey trousers. Everything we have is the same, PJs, three grey long-sleeved shirts, three pairs of under-vests and Y-fronts. They're blue. Everything's washed for us except our thin PE shorts & sports kit. We have to wash them out for ourselves in a big sink. They dry in no time in a drying-room near the showers & our wash-room. Another thing, we're not allowed to have long hair. Mustn't touch our ears, so I get mine cut before I go back to school. There's a woman who comes in early each term to cut any boy's hair that's too long. Doesn't matter how long it is on top. She also has an electric razor to take any hair off the faces of older boys before they start to shave themselves. There's no hairy faces allowed, Robert. "So where do you find to do tugging. In bed?" "No, never in bed. The older boy who showed us where everything was at the start, he warned us never to do that in bed, and also a sure way of getting thrown out of school was being caught with another boy in one bed." "What about wet dreams?" "Never had one, but another boy in the cabin two away from ours had one of them. He just had to go to our Housekeeper and tell her." "Must have been embarrassing, that!" "Not so bad. She didn't make a fuss. Been there for years, so his wasn't the first. She took his messy PJs, had them washed, and he had them back the very next day. The favourite place to go to tug? That's in one of the lav cubicles. We all know about that, going in there with just a towel, then doing it sitting on the lav lid. When jizz lands on the floor, it's tiles, so easy to wipe up using lav paper. "Does everyone always wipe up their mess?" "Mmh! We think it's like bad manners not to. What if another boy went in there in his bare feet and slipped on it?" I thought that was weird: bad manners. Were any boys ever caught in bed together? "Not in the two years I've been there, Robert, but something happened maybe a couple of years before that. Boys were still talking about it when I started there, the twenty of us. Both of them were 15. Did I tell you how we never know when our House-master's going to come round our cabins? We know the time we've got to be in bed but he can come round to make sure and say goodnight. The story is that their Housemaster came round very early one morning. When he looked into their cabin, they were both in one bed, still fast asleep. He banged on the door, making them wake up." "What then?" "Made them get dressed, took hold of both sets of PJs, went with them to the wash-room, allowed them to pee and to wash their hands & faces. Then he marched both of them to the Head's Study. Both denied doing anything with each other. Said one was feeling cold so he got in with his cabin-mate. When their PJs were examined, there were no stains on them. Maybe they were doing nothing except sharing because one felt cold. Who knows? But something really bad happened." "Bad? What?" "Both of them were sent to the Sick Bay to be looked after by the nurse. One of them somehow got out of there and left the school grounds without being seen. Went to the nearby railway station and jumped in front of a fast train." "Wow! Horrible. What about the other boy?" "Of course, the police came, asking him questions with his House-master there. He said he didn't know anything about what his cabin-mate was meaning to do. He was there in the Sick Bay one night, not there the next morning. The very next day, his parents came to take him away from school. He never came back." Talking about all that had taken us only about 15 minutes. Even after hearing it, I couldn't keep myself from wondering how it would be for Paul and me to wank each other. Taking a chance I said to him that it might be fun. Grinning, he said he'd been thinking the same as me. "No harm in it, Robert. We're the same age. Where to do it with no risk of being caught?" "We both have to think hard about that, yes?" "OK, Robert. Got it. My dad has a garage where he keeps his car. He's away in it right now, working a long way away. What do you think of that?" "If you're sure about it, sounds OK. When? Sooner the better." "Saturday then. I could meet you near the garage, like at 2 pm?" He told me where it was. We shook hands on it. I went off home, still thinking about it, feeling like having a good wank but determined not to wank myself before Saturday. Being a Saturday, I wasn't out of bed early like on schooldays, my cock stiff as always in the morning. By the time I go for a pee and wash my face, it goes down. As the day went on, I decided to wear something easy to get out of, my tracksuit with Ys on under them, trainers. That afternoon, I hurried to where Paul said. He was waiting there, grinning, carrying a big bottle of lemonade. He was in shorts, a sort of long-sleeved top, trainers. His dad's lock-up was one of four. There was no one else around when he undid the padlock. Once inside, he bolted the door. I could feel my cock stiffening. There were no windows, just plenty of light through a big skylight. There was a spare car wheel and some other car stuff, and one big wooden chair. Both of us tore off our clothes, dumping them on the chair. Seeing Paul naked and hard, I was amazed to see that his cock could have been my own. Except for the hair on mine, his was exactly the same. Same length, same thickness, his skin starting to go back on its own, same as mine always did, showing the top of his cock, purply-red. He did have the start of some hair there, but so fair that I could hardly see it. There were some old newspapers on the floor. Standing on them in our bare feet, we got our arms round each others waists, rubbing our stiff cocks against our stomachs, feeling each others balls. Neither of us had any hair on our balls. It felt great. Without saying anything, we took hold of each others cocks, starting to wank. Still not saying anything, the only noise apart from the sound of wanking was us breathing and giving little gasps. We went on like that probably for something over 10 minutes. I could feel things starting to build up, my balls tightening like they always do. Next thing my spunk came squirting out. It hit Paul on the top of one leg, but he went on wanking me, with me shuddering and gasping. Somehow, I managed to keep on wanking him. His came just a split second after mine, several strong spurts, hitting me just above my belly-button. We stood there for some minutes, clinging to each other. Standing away from each other. Some of it had dripped on the old newspapers. Some of mine was on Paul's fingers, and his on mine. Still not saying anything, both of us licked our fingers. With my hands over my cock in case any spunk dripped on the floor, I made for the chair where we'd left our clothes, him close behind me. I'd been in such a hurry not to be late that all I had was a big clean hanky. I fished it from my tracksuit. We used it to clean each other up. A lot of his had run down into the hair round my cock. The hanky ended up completely soaked and stinking. With that done, before we got our clothes back on, we both had a drink from the big bottle of lemonade he'd brought along. He said "We need to make up for all that fluid we just lost!" After getting dressed, we went out cautiously. Still no one in sight. Padlock back on, the two of us walked quickly away. I dumped my dirty hanky in the first waste bin we saw. We shook hands, grinning about what we'd just done and went off home. I was back at school on the Monday after that. There was all the usual boy chatter about holiday doings, wanking and stuff. I didn't say anything about Paul, my new- found friend. He still had another about 10 days before he left to go back to school in Yorkshire. Before we parted after his dad's lock-up that Saturday, we'd promised each other to meet up at the open-air swimming pool another Saturday, not to swim, just to chat. We liked each other. Sure enough, he was there when I turned up, sitting eating ice-cream. This time, I bought him another and one for myself. Before long, our talk turned to the idea of doing the same again. His dad had been home, but he was away again in his car, so it looked like we could safely use his lock-up. Paul reckoned there was no time to lose. He had the padlock key in his pocket, so we went straight there, letting ourselves in, same as before. We had all our clothes off very fast, standing on the old newspapers in our bare feet. While we were rubbing our hard cocks against each other, I happened to look down. There were spunk stains on the newspapers easy to see, although they had dried up. Paul giggled. We went on with wanking each other. It felt every bit as good as the first time we did it, but this time, maybe about after 10 minutes, his came first and mine only a moment after that, leaving us clinging to each other, both panting like my dog does, and out of breath. After the episode of having to ruin my hanky, I'd remembered to bring along a fresh packet of tissues. It took quite a few of them to clean each other up. There were even more fresh drips of spunk on the old newspapers, so after we got dressed again, we lifted them off the floor, rolled them up along with the dirty tissues, dumping the lot in a rubbish bin. He hadn't brought anything to drink. Both of us had dry mouths, so we walked back to the place outside the open-air pool to have cans of soft drink. I paid for them. We weren't going to see each other again before he went back to school. He sent me a postcard as soon as he got there, saying nothing except `Open-air pool, see you there when I get summer hols'. The two of us did meet again there that summer for a swim. The only difference I saw on him was that he'd grown a lot more hair above his cock, a patch of fair curls, and fair hair down his legs. We'd known each other for so short a time, but it felt much longer. However, that's another story. (End)