Pony Club Days

Authors Note:  This story is loosely based on events that occured while I was growing up.  Some events depicted did actually happen to me, other events may have happened to other people I knew, while some events may have related to me by other parties and have been included for the sake of providing an overall picture of the times.  What category the events depicted in this story actually fall into will remain known only to me. You can make up your own mind about them and where you think they belong.

All names have been changed to protect the guilty, or innocent, or whoever.

I would like to express my thanks to my friend Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters for his friendship, encouragement, suggestions and edits to prepare this story for publishing. You're the best!  (Please check out his website... www.ponyboysplace.com)

Part One - 1975

Looking back on my childhood, I have to say that my memories of growing up on a farm in rural Australia are generally fond ones. The work may have been hard and our bodies may have ached, but this was only short-lived. It was the memories created that would last a life time.

I remember summer days spent mustering cattle in the Australian bush, followed by the branding and marking of calves, my nostrils stinging from the acrid smell of burning hair and my body aching at the end of each day from trying to hold the kicking and bawling beasts.

I remember acres of golden oats and wheat waving in the breeze, that each year would be harvested by massive machines. Some of this would then have to be bagged, before being packed away into sheds, a back-breaking job that would always leave us exhausted.

I remember shearing time, with the clatter of the shearing machines and the hectic pace of keeping up with the shearers as I tried to sweep the board and keep it clean while fleeces were picked up and spread across the tables for skirting and classing.

I remember too the bawdy talk of the farm workers, the content of which didn't ever seem to change whether it was coming from a shearer or a header driver or a stockman, and the jokes that for many years - until I was a teenager at least - I just didn't understand.

I also remember the men and older boys whose bodies were tanned and hardened from their work in the sun, and the strange thoughts and feelings - which I didn't understand either until I was well into my teens - that seemed to fill me when I would watch them work.

There was much more than this to living on the land of course, but these and many other days spent working hard and playing even harder, were days that I will always remember fondly.

I was the eldest of five children, with two brothers and two sisters younger than me, and while our family wasn't rich by any means, my brothers and sisters and I did enjoy a childhood that was filled with, I guess you could say, contentment.

Our parents were firm but fair in the way we were raised and even though there were few extravagances for us as kids they always saw to it that we had what we needed. We not have had the latest in games or the newest and trendiest in clothes, but we never went hungry, we were never without clothing or shoes, and we were given the best education that they could afford, which in my case at least included a few years away at an Agricultural High School to finish my senior years, before coming back to take up my place working alongside my father.

We were definitely better off than some of the other kids we went to school with, I know that, so I have always been grateful for what they were able to provide us with.

*   *   *   *   *

An essential part of living on the land in those days was knowing how to ride a horse. They were used for work, but they also played an important role in our leisure and sporting lives, as we spent days and weeks exploring new country with them, competed on them in various events and activities, took them to shows and campdraft events, and sometimes even raced them.

They were more than just animals to us. They were our companions, our friends even, and while in this day and age there are those who may frown upon animals being used in sport it should be remembered that the entire world was built on the back of the horse and without them it would never have been possible for explorers to have opened up the vast outback of this country, or for great leaders from history to have claimed victory over their enemies.

And besides, isn't there also something in the bible about man going forth to multiply and having dominion of the fishes in the sea, the birds in the sky and all the beasts of burden? If the bible says it is so, then who are we to argue?

Anyhow, I digress. The last thing I want now is to get into an animal welfare debate. The message I wanted to get across is that horses were, and still are, an integral part of my life, and without them I believe my life would have turned out far differently to how it has.

So I guess that brings me to the subject of this little tale, being the idle days of my youth that were spent at Pony Club, where I may have learned about horses, but I also learned far more about life!

*   *   *   *   *

I remember well my very first pony, a Pinto Shetland with the name of 'Star'. I can't remember where he came from, but he appeared one day when I was about eight or nine years old and. It was the start of a love affair with horses that has endured to this day, along with a passion for those fancy coloured Pinto horses . . . you know, the patchy coloured ones like the Indians used to ride!

I used to ride him around the farm, following my father on his big grey coloured Arabian stallion, and trying to do whatever my father did . . . not that I possibly could. That gave me a start at riding at least.

A year or so later we welcomed 'Johnny' to our farm. He was a white Welsh Mountain Pony. He was bigger than 'Star' and much more mobile, and it was on him that I truly learned to spread my wings and become a rider. I remember I cried when 'Star' was sold on to some friends of the family so that their kids could also learn to ride, and a few years later I would cry once more over 'Star', when I found out that my beloved first pony had died.

'Johnny' was a great pony for a kid. He taught me more about what you could do when you are riding a horse than just about any other horse possibly could. It was on him that I first started chasing cattle around, trying to campdraft them like my father did. I remember one time him copping a kick in the chest from a black Angus bull who got tired of us chasing him, while my father stood back laughing at us. It was on him that I also participated in my first gymkhana a few years later, and winning my first ribbon - a red one for finishing in second place - although I can't remember what the event was.

So, after my having started to win ribbons at gymkhanas - without any training of any kind up to that point - my father decided that we should start to go to Pony Club to actually try and learn how it was done properly. I think it was as much for his benefit as it was mine, as he had never had any formal riding training either, apart from one lesson with a famous ex-jockey who had visited the outback station he had worked on as a teenager.

Now, Pony Club is essentially for the kids, but my father was smart enough to know that he would learn quite a lot as well, simply by helping out where needed and also by listening to the various instructors that would visit to teach us about one topic or another. He was not a fan of the pompous bullshit they carried on with, with their way of doing things being based on the old military and cavalry ways, but he came to realise that it was the discipline that came from the military background which actually held the place together.

After attending a few of their riding days through that first year of being involved with Pony Club we came to the end of the year. Now, every year the club held a live-in Pony Camp at the local showground over summer holidays, which always convened the first Sunday after Christmas and went for one week. That first year I was about twelve years old and my parents booked me in for the camp. It would have been about 1975, I believe.

When the big day arrived we presented ourselves at the showground, where we were told we would be divided into a number of different troops, with each troop being given a different colour as its name and consisting of kids of similar riding abilities. That was when I found out that I was in Blue Troop, and that I would be staying in a dormitory filled with other boys of similar age to me, who I would eat with at the dining room and would also have to shower with in groups. The thought of all this soon had my head spinning, I have to say, and for a number of different reasons, not the least of which was the thought of having to be seen naked with the other boys - something I had never done before in my life.

At the end of that first day, after we had finished riding, had put our horses away for the night and had been formally dismissed by our instructor - a rather pompous guy by the name of Mr. Alexander - we made our way from the stable area up to the buildings that housed the dormitories, the kitchen and the mess areas. This was all new to me, but thankfully I at least knew some of the other kids from the few club days I had been to throughout the year, so I teamed up with a kid by the name of Christopher, who was a year or two older than me but still in my same troop. He was a good looking kid with a mop of dark hair and a mischievous smile. It wasn't difficult to be drawn to him.

Christopher said to stick with him and he would show me around, as he had been here before. As it turned out, he would show me a lot more than just how to find my way around the showground.

We were shown where all the facilities were and were given our instructions by the Camp Commandants, who were two parents who were put in charge. Mr. Cochran was in charge of looking after all of the boys, while Mrs. Bower was in charge of the girls.

The timetable and the rules that were laid out for us were very strict. Revellie was at six thirty in the morning, then it was straight down to the stables for morning stables and feeding the horses. Breakfast would be served at seven thirty, and if you were late then you would miss out. At eight thirty it was back to the stables for saddling up and parading by nine. Throughout the day there were two lessons in the morning before lunch, then two lessons in the afternoon after lunch, with the troops being moved from one activity to another. After first and third lessons there was a morning and afternoon tea break, which were always served to us wherever we were located on the ground. At the end of the day we would do evening stables, feeding the horses and ensuring their bedding was clean so they had a good nights rest, then after that it was up to the showers, followed by dinner, some social time, then lights out strictly at nine pm.

For a twelve year old kid who was away for his parents for the first time (they were there throughout the day but had gone home to the farm once we had finished evening stables) it was a rather daunting experience. I clung to Christopher like a limpet mine. He didn't seem to mind; in fact he later told me that as he was an only child he kind of enjoyed having a little brother around.

When it came to shower time on that first day Christopher could see that I was nervous about going there but told me there wasn't any need to worry, nothing would happen in there.

'But . . . I haven't ever been in showers with anyone else before,' I said to him.

'It's no big deal,' he replied. 'All of us are built the same you know. You have a cock don't you? Well, I've got one and so does everyone else in here.'

'Yeah, but, what if they look at me?'

He just laughed. 'Ben, you'll be looking at them too.'

I hadn't quite thought of it that way.

'Listen,' he said. 'How about we'll leave it for as long as we can, then we'll go in last. Everyone should nearly be gone by then, so it'll probably be just you and me in there with any luck. Is that better?'

I thought about it for a second then nodded. 'Okay.'

'Good. Now we'll probably need to kill a bit of time so that they don't send us in there because we haven't been. Best thing is go to the toilet for a while and wait out of sight, then when it's close enough to being time we go from there to the showers.'

I looked at him with what must have been a puzzled expression on my face.

'Mate, don't worry. I've done it that way heaps of times when I've been trying to keep out of the way of some of the older kids. They can be bullies sometimes. This way they won't see you and you won't be in their way.'

'Are they . . . are they that bad?'

'One or two of them are real assholes. I haven't seen those guys yet though, so hopefully they aren't even here this year. Come on, we better get our things together and head to the toilets.'

When we went back to the dormitory we figured out that we didn't have our beds close to each other, so he quickly gave me a hand to move my stretcher and gear down to the end of the dorm near to where his bed was located. That killed a bit of time for us, then once that was done we found our towels, toiletry bags and some clean clothes and headed for the male amenities building, which I soon found out housed the showers in one end and the toilets in the other end.

'Follow me,' he said as we went in through the main doors.

We could hear laughter coming from one end of the building, as well as the hiss of running water. Looking up into the rafters I could also see steam billowing about. Chris went in the opposite direction and I followed him doggedly. I found we were soon in the toilet area, where a row of urinals stood down one wall and a row of toilet cubicles down the other wall.

After checking and seeing that the place was empty he whispered, 'You go into the end one and I'll go in next door to you. I'll let you know when it's time, okay?'

I nodded and did as I was told, while I heard him go into the cubicle next to me. I heard him lock his door and I did the same, then without pulling my pants down, as I didn't actually need to go to the toilet, I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet seat and waited.

Next door I heard the rustle of fabric and figured he had taken his pants down to go to the toilet. Moments later I heard him fart, which generated giggles from both of us.

I started to look around me and saw some writing on the back of the door, along with a few crude pictures of the various parts of the human anatomy. I had seen these types of things before, but they still made me feel as if my face was burning.

I noticed that the walls of the cubicles were made of boards that slotted together in some places, but in other places they were different boards and there were some narrow cracks between them. I leant over close to one of the cracks and found that I could see into the cubicle where Chris was hiding out. Immediately I drew back, not wanting to see something I shouldn't, but after a few minutes curiosity got the better of me and I leant in for another look.

I could see some movement in there but couldn't quite make out what was happening, so I got closer. What I saw surprised me, because there was Christopher with his pants down and his long, tanned legs sticking way out in front of him, leaning back and rubbing on his hard cock.

I couldn't believe it. I mean, I knew about rubbing yourself, as I had been getting a stiffy and doing that for a while now, in fact every morning when I woke up my cock was stiff, but doing it here, while there was someone else close by, now that was different.

I studied him for what seemed like ages, drinking in the sight of this beautiful boy doing the forbidden, and couldn't take my eyes off him. I felt my own cock going hard inside my jeans and reached down to start rubbing it through the fabric.

I must have made some sort of noise when I did this, as Christopher stopped what he was doing and leant forward, peering back at me through the crack in the wall, with a huge grin on his face.

I didn't move. I couldn't move. We just kept on staring at each other.

'Did you like that?' I suddenly heard him say.

I quickly drew back from the crack.

'It's okay Ben. We all do it. I bet you do it too?'

'Y-e-ss,' I eventually said to him.

'Well, why don't you do it too then? You've seen mine, so let me see yours. I'll see it in the shower, but if I've already seen it when we go in there then it won't matter, will it? You'll have nothing to be afraid of or embarrassed about because I've already seen it.'

At first I simply froze, not wanting to even think about it. I was half tempted to do a runner right then and there. But then I did think about it, and in a roundabout way he started making sense.

If he did see me now then I wouldn't have anything to be embarrassed about when we did go to the showers, would I?

Eventually I made up my mind. It was going to happen sooner or later, so it may as well be now.

Gradually I undid the button and the fly on my jeans and started sliding them down. They got stuck on my little boner and I had to push them down harder.

I kept my eye on the crack in the wall and when Chris heard the rustle of fabric I noticed him look back through the crack.

'Good on you, mate,' he said to me.

For a few moments I kept myself covered up with my hands, trying to prolong the inevitable.

'Come on. The rest of it,' he urged.

'Okay,' I said to him, then I took my hands away and leant back against the wall behind me. My boner was standing straight up, pointing at the roof.

'Oh wow. That's a nice one,' Chris said to me. I was sure he didn't really think that and he was just trying to be nice, after all it didn't compare with what he had. Mine wasn't as big, nor did it have anywhere near as much hair around it. His was much nicer; I knew that for a fact.

'Want to give it a rub up and down for me?' he said to me.

Reluctantly I did as he asked.

'Wow. That looks nice.'

I didn't know what to say to that. My mouth was dry and there were too many thoughts swirling around in my head. New thoughts. Wicked thoughts. Fun thoughts. Most of which I hadn't experienced before.

'Come on, mate. I think it's time we hit the showers now,' I heard him say.

'What? Like this?' I asked.

'It'll go down in a minute or two. I'll go in and see if they have all finished then come back if it's okay. All right?'

'Okay. You do that.'

I heard him pull up his jeans and then flush the toilet, then he was gone. While he was away I pulled up my jeans, but left my shirt handing out and down, covering up any sign of a bulge in my jeans.

Moments later I heard him come back.

'The coast is clear Ben, it's just us.'

I opened the door and stepped outside to find him standing there, his towel hanging around his neck and with a prominent bulge in his pants.

'Thought you said it would go down?' I said to him.

'Oh, it will,' he replied, flashing that mischievous grin at me.

I followed him in through to the showers and found that much to my relief we were indeed alone. We hung our towels and clothes on the pegs along one wall, sitting our other stuff on the bench there.

Chris started taking his clothes off first, dropping them on the bench also. Pretty soon he was standing there naked, bold as you like, with his cock protruding out in front of him, with a thick crop of dark hair around its base.

I stood there staring at him in amazement. I knew it wasn't right to have such thoughts, but I couldn't help it. He was simply beautiful.

'What? Haven't you seen anyone naked before?' he chided. 'Want a hand getting yours off?'

That snapped me out of my stupor and I started undressing. As I did so he went over to the row of shower nozzles on the opposite wall and turned one on.

As I pulled off my jeans and underpants I watched him lather up, then all of a sudden I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be close to him. For some unexplained reason I wanted to touch him. I had never had thoughts such as that in my life, but right here, right now that's what I wanted to do.

I quickly pulled off my socks and threw them on my pile of clothes and walked over to the nozzle next to him and turned it on. Hot water started coming out instantly, causing me to jump back.

'You've gotta watch them,' he said to me. 'It can be a bit tricky getting them set right.'

As we lathered ourselves up we watched each other out of the corner of our eyes, both of us lingering on the private parts of the other for far too long.

'Still embarrassed?' he asked me. I simply shook my head.

Moments later he stepped to one side, so that the water wasn’t coming down directly onto him and started lathering himself up down there. His cock was soon sticking out of a mound of suds. I couldn't help but giggle.

He moved his hand and wrapped it around the shaft, then started moving it back and forth, rubbing himself, but not holding on tight, just letting his hand slide.

I tried doing the same and found that it was a whole new sensation to what I had been doing at home.

'Feel good?' he asked.

'Yes,' I managed to croak.

He came closer to me, until he was standing right in front of me, almost touching me.

My eyes were wide at the thought and sight of him standing there. Then he did something I didn't expect. He moved closer still, until his cock touched my hand. I stopped what I was doing and let go of myself, then he wrapped his hand around both of our cocks, rubbing them both together, while placing his other hand on my shoulder.

Oh. My. God. Was this really happening?

'Does that feel good?' he whispered.

I could only nod, wide eyed.

He started stroking faster and faster, working our cocks together. It was amazing. Pretty soon I could feel something building up inside me that was unfamiliar. I had rubbed myself often, but that was it, now, this sensation was something different.

'I'm . . . I'm getting close,' he hoarsely whispered.

'Close to what?' I asked. A puzzled expression came over his face for a moment, then vanished.

He looked down at our cocks, then just as he did so I felt his cock lurch in his hand, then a stream of white stuff came shooting out of it and all over mine, followed by another, and another, and another.

I could feel his body shaking as he shot it out. That was all I needed apparently, as suddenly my balls felt like they were on fire and I found myself shooting the same stuff out at him.

'What's that?' I asked, alarmed.

'That's your cum. Hasn't that ever happened to you before?'

'No. Never,' I replied.

'Oh, wow. I gave you your first orgasm! How cool is that?'

'I think you better teach me about this stuff,' I replied.

'I'd be happy to,' he answered, then unexpectantly leant forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips, which caused me to jump back in alarm.

'What was that for?' I demanded, half angry at him, but half excited too.

'I was just saying thanks. That's all,' he replied.

I thought about it for a second, then leant forward and returned the favour.

'Thanks,' I said to him. 'Now we better hurry up and get to dinner. I'm starved and I don't want to miss out!'

We hurriedly rinsed off, then dried off and got dressed before going over to the mess hall. There were now even more thoughts swirling around in my head and I had so much I wanted to ask Christopher. There was time for that though, as we still had a whole week of this camp to go.

I would make many more friends other than Christopher of course, but the bond the two of us forged on that first day of Pony Camp would be one that would remain for life.