Date: Sun, 12 Mar 2000 14:16:58 +0000 (GMT)
From: Nick B <hovenick@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Practice Makes Perfect - Chapt 1. The Beginnings

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT

Hi there, this is my second effort. I hope you enjoyed
my first which was After the Match. In this one, I
talk about the person Alan Pewley who was my first
relationship. We were never friends and have never
discussed our relationship but somehow we were both
very involved. In this episode I call him by his
surname, since that is what happened at the time.

The story is essentially true although I have changed
the name slightly. If you were at a Sussex Public
School, you may even recognise us. It doesn't matter,
I have nothing to be ashamed of and neither does
Pewley.

The copyright to this story rests with me, so please
don't copy it unless you ask my permission. I would be
happy to enter into correspondence and answer as
truthfully as I can your questions. Write to
skaterecord@hotmail.com

I hope you enjoy reading it. This first episode made
me quite horny, but then I was casting my mind back to
my memories, I hope it does the same for you.

1.	The Beginning

When you are at an all boys school, the hardest thing
to do is to arrange to meet people by themselves. Its
not problem to meet a gang and it is no problem to be
by yourself, but to meet with another guy is so open
to misinterpretation that one rarely does it.

I was fortunate, I tumbled into creating a meeting
place which served me for three years and enabled me
to develop some wonderful and very horny experiences.

I was aware that I loved music. However my parents
were very strange. My father who truly loved classical
music was not emotional enough to think of playing it,
and my Mother thought that if I could not be a maestro
by the age of 5, well then there was no point in
trying. To my Mother who had grown up n poverty, music
lessons were a waste of time unless they could produce
an economic result.

However I have a very good musical ear, and a good
enough voice. So when I went to my public school, I
used to enjoy making a beeline for the music practise
rooms where I could express myself in some horrific
din. I also used to like to try and learn how to play
the hit songs of the time, and so it was often that
people could hear my awful renditions.

Alan Pewley was a guy who I had known well in my
Junior school days and he came in one day to see what
the noise was all about. I was proud to play for him
my portfolio which included Beatles and Stones songs
as well as more modern stuff. I particularly liked
playing Eric Clapton and had an awful version of
Leila.

Pewley listened. He said to me "That's crap you know."

I remember going red. I sitting on a chair facing the
piano and he standing leaning against the lower
register of the piano.

"A piano is there for playing properly and not making
the noise you are making."

My blush intensified. I also started to get angry.
"Why are you saying that?"

"Because its true! -- move over"

I got up and let him sit down.  He then started to
play the Fur Elize. He played it so beautifully that
my anger evaporated and I listened to him. When he
finished, I asked him whether he had any other pieces.
He played something, though I forget what it was.

As he played with such competence and confidence, my
mind went back just over a year to the time when in
the Junior school we had been confined in the same
sick room. We both had scarlatina, a disease which
seemed to be mixed up in my mind with German measles,
and which had strangely enough not made me feel ill at
all, although I had a rash.

During the day we would read, play games, do jigsaws
and generally pass the time away quite easily. We also
did a fair amount of school work, except at the time
when we had to have the curtains closed.

However in the evening, when the lights were turned
out, we had surplus energy. We were not tired enough
nor ill enough to go to sleep. The lights were turned
out by Miss Tuffin or Miss Latter whoever was on duty,
and then we would lie there for perhaps 5 minutes
before we started talking again.

I remember one night, when the two of us were the only
people in the sick room, we talked for what seemed an
age. Then Pewley wanted to go to sleep and I lay there
whilst his breathing became heavier and more regular.

Unfortunately I was just not sleepy. As I got bored,
so my hand found its way to my pyjamas, where the hole
was wide open. I don't know why, we did not have
elastic in our pyjama tops but some cotton cord, and
so the whole which was there for you to pee out of,
could become wider and wider.

My hole was wide and so I could feel my cock through
that hole. I enjoyed playing with my cock. I got a
nice feeling as I did so and I liked having it go "on
jack" as we used to say.

About three weeks before this incident, I had had my
first orgasm, a dry one followed not long after by my
first drops of cum. But I had not really started
wanking yet. Now I decided that was what I was going
to do. I listened for the regular sound of Pewley's
breath and started.

I don't know how long it took me to cum, but when I
did I felt really good, and more important sleep
swiftly followed.

I suddenly realised that wanking was the way to make
time pass in the sick-room after lights out. So now my
policy changed and instead of talking very long, at
the first break in conversation. I pretended that I
wanted to sleep.

I usually did not have to wait long for the sound of
the heavy regular breathing and I could start my
nightly exercise. At that time, I think I was wanking
for the sake of wanking and not because of fantasy. It
was something that felt good and climaxed better.

One night, I suppose whilst waiting for Pewley to go
to sleep, I started getting a bit sleepy myself and so
my breath must have become more regular. However I
suddenly came to, to the sound of a rustling in the
sheets on Pewley's bed.  I looked as hard as I could,
and could just make out the up and down activity. I
was so turned on! But what was I going to do?

I was lost in my thoughts, but suddenly noticed that
the rhythmic rustling had stopped. The room was
silent. I waited for Alan's sleep breathing.
Eventually it came and I took my turn to enjoy myself.
However tonight my thoughts were on Pewley. I think I
had seen him naked some time before, but not recently,
and at 12 and 13, there were daily changes. I knew he
was a roundhead like me, though his brother was a
cavalier. That was information that I had on all the
boarders; but I did not know how advanced he was, and
it was that which excited me.

(At this point I should alert the reader who was not
around me at the time about the meaning of roundheads
and cavaliers. When I was younger it was the
government policy that unless the parents forbade it
most boys were circumcised under the national health
system. This was particularly true in the South of
England which is why when I was at school more guys
were cut than uncut. This had nothing to do with
religion.

Now, it is not difficult to understand the reason for
the name "Roundhead". However for those of you who are
not British, the name Roundhead was taken by the
supporters of a republic in the 17t Century. It
referred to the Puritan hair do that they had. The
King's men or Royalists wore their hair very long or
used wigs. They were known as the Cavaliers. The
Roundheads vs the Cavaliers was therefore the war
between the Parliament led by Oliver Cromwell and the
Monarchists led by Charles I and which culminated in
the King losing his head in 1649.

So that is the history lesson. To me it was an excuse
to watch all the boys in the school whilst they were
having a pee, so that I could see if they were
roundheads and cavaliers. This information was used
for non-sexual things such as rags, playground
football (round ball variety!) and playground
cricket.)

Anyway I digress. As I woke up the next day, all I
could think of was how to bring up the subject with
Pewley.

Our day continued as usual. Woken up at 7.15, it was
wash and then breakfast, then a visit from the Matron
to be told we were still too ill to go back to the
dormitory. A little reading then a visit from a master
to enquire about our health and to give us some work.

So it wasn't till the time when we were supposed to
have a sleep after lunch that I was able to get down
to my day's project.

As we settled down, I exclaimed to him "You woke me up
last night!"

"Did I?"

"Oh yes; I was just getting to sleep when I was woken
by the sound of your bedclothes."

At this he went red. I continued "It seemed to go on
for a long time, what were you doing?"

"Nothing" was the reply

"You could not have been doing nothing, otherwise you
would not have been so noisy."  He went redder and
redder. "I think you were wanking."

With no second of thought he denied it strongly. "Oh
yes, I can see by your eyes and the fact that you have
gone red that you feel guilty!" Again Pewley denied
the charge. What is more he denied that he had ever
done it.

"Oh," I said, "does that mean that you can't do it?"

Now this accusation was quite serious. For here he was
13 years old and he did not want to be thought
backward. On the other hand he had made a bald
statement, and honour demanded that he continue with
his line.

He obviously decided that attack was the best method
of defence "Well then, can you do it?"

I didn't go red nor did I have the slightest
hesitation in admitting the truth. "Oh yes, I can do
it. What is more, I have done it for the past four
nights in here. You have been asleep"

"I don't believe you" he said.  "I would have noticed.
Even if you did, I bet you didn't cum!"

"Oh yes I do"

"Prove it"

"I'll show you, you can smell my handkerchief, but you
have to come over here to smell it"

"I'm not getting out of bed for you" he said.

"Oh well then, you won't see it."

There was a silence for a while. "McNab" he said. "if
you wank, why do you do it while I am asleep? Are you
ashamed?"

"No...if you like I'll do it while you are awake if you
do it at the same time."

Pewley started to smile, a smile which I found totally
disarming.

"Pewley can I see your cock?"

"what now?" I nodded my head. I waited what seemed
like an eternity.

Then he pulled his bedclothes back. He was in his
striped pyjamas. He looked towards me, and I did the
same. As I looked at him with his trousers done up
there was nothing to see. My cock had gone hard and
was peering up through the hole.

"Go on, let me see your's" He unbuttoned his pyjamas,
more modern than mine and there lay his cock semi
erect, lying on a bed of soft hair. "how big does it
get?" He started stroking it a little and his cock got
stiffer and a little longer. A shaft perhaps 4 inches
long with a perfect mushroom head.
I knew exactly what I wanted to do with that mushroom
head, and yet the though totally disgusted me. I
wanted to put it in my mouth and lick and suck it, yet
that was disgusting. After all you peed though your
cock and you wouldn't want that in your mouth would
you.

My answer was and will always be, a total Yes! And my
next problem was to work out a way of doing so.

We looked at each other's cocks for some time. That's
all, just looking. His twitched a little and I made
mine twitch in reply. Perhaps 6 months further into
puberty, we would both have come just by looking at
each other.

"Do you want to wank now?" I asked in a whisper. This
was not because I was being quiet as much as I was in
awe of the moment. I suppose it was one of the
defining moments in knowing myself and what sort of
things I enjoyed.

Pewley didn't want to wank then. He felt that someone
would come in, but it was agreed that the same evening
we would wank together as soon as it was quiet enough
that there was no danger of anyone coming in.

The time went very slowly though that afternoon. A
visit from my father only served to make the time go
slower, after all what we were planning was so very
wicked. Eventually he went home.

A cup of cocoa was brought round at 7.30 and then it
was lights out an hour later. We talked for a while.
Neither of us was talking about what was to happen. It
was as if it was too important to talk about, almost
too holy to talk about.

Around 9.30 the lights went out in the corridor and we
knew we were left to our own devices.

"McNab...are you awake" I whispered my reply "Do you
still want to do it?"

"Yes" I whispered breathlessly. "Do you?"

At that Pewley threw back his sheet and revealed his
trouserless midrift and legs. I followed his example.
We both started stroking and pumping. After about two
minutes Pewley said "Are you getting near?"

I told him that I wasn't and he told me he was about
to cum. In the dark I could not see him cum, but he
told me as I continued. I then made a brave move. "I
don't believe you, no one cums this quickly"

My statement had the desired effect.

"If you don't believe me come and feel it, my tummy is
all wet."

At that I stretched my hand across to his bed and felt
for his tummy. He was right. It was wet, and there
invisible was the slightly slimy feel of fresh cum. I
massaged it in for him for a second or two. And then
my hand went lower. For the first time I touched the
shaft of Alan Pewley. Just a stroke of the shaft, just
once, but I had gone where I had never gone before.

I then continued my wanking and in next to no time
came all over my stomach.

After I had cum, I just lay there in silence, complete
silence. After a while I heard the rhythmic breathing
of my new friend and I smiled. I considered the
situation. Indians used to have blood brothers. I had
dipped my finger in his spunk, this meant that I was
now his spunk brother. The only problem was, that he
was not yet my spunk brother.

The next morning we awoke. In the morning, we somehow
neither of us wanted to bring us the subject, so it
was that afternoon when we were officially resting
that we started talking.

"Pewley, did you mind it when I stroked your cock?" He
looked at me his blue eyes bore into me as he told me
that it was OK. Somehow I got the impression that it
was more than OK. "Pewley, are you hard..I am"

"Wait till tonight" He said.

"I can't.. I want to see your cock. In fact I want to
feel it when you are hard"

At that he shrugged his shoulders. "Wait till tonight,
you can wank me if you like!"

At that I was in ecstasy. He was going to allow me to
wank him. "Will you wank me too?" He said that he
would. I was so hard it wasn't true. He was as well
because at one time he had to go for a pee and his
cock stuck out of his trousers. The rest of the
afternoon was spent in arguing the pros and cons as to
whether he should get into my bed or me in his.

I did not in those days know it was gay or homosexual
or anything else. I knew that I wanted to be in bed
with this guy. Alan Pewley was perhaps 5ft 6" and
built perfectly. I was a little taller. We both had
black hair, but he had blue blue eyes, whereas mine
are green. His skin was soft and I so wanted to touch
it.

That evening the lights went out, and we just lay
there. |We had exhausted all converstion about having
our joint wank, and nothing else seemed appropriate.
We tried a few games, but they were no successful. In
the end the lights outside went out. I stretched my
arm over and manoeuvred into position above his
crotch.

I felt my target and around it. His rod was so stiff
and as I fondled him so Alan came to the edge of his
bed so that he could stretch his arm into my bed. We
started to wank each other, but it was too much
stretching. Then I decided to get into his bed.

He made room for me and we lay there on our sides
facing each other. It was not ideal for wanking each
other, but it was like this that we found what an
ideal fit our bodies were for each other.

My legs were closed and so were his, so as our cocks
eventually found a position delving under our balls we
started to do an action which as far as I was
concerned was fucking.

As we did so for the first time our upper halves were
part of the equation. I enjoyed massaging his soft
back and he obviously enjoyed doing the same to me. At
length this sort of treatment was something that not
boy could keep yup for very long without exploding and
almost simultaneously we splattered into each others
crotch and balls.

I the dark I remember his eyes sparkling, some how
luminous. As I write this I know I must have wanted to
kiss him, but I never did that to him ever.

Somehow I must have go to my own bed, but I know I
slept happy that night next to my new Spunk brother.

We continued for another two or three days, and then
one day the housemaster came to see us.

He had a grave look on his face. Whilst we had been in
the sick room, he had visited the dormitory which
Pewley was in normally. He had found 8 boys in bed
with each other. He had surmised that this was not a
one-off occasion, what did we have to say?

I was a prefect in another dormitory, and Pewley said
that he knew nothing. However it was enough to be
warning to us. We stopped all fun and games. Nothing
more happened between us for another 15 months. Now
here I was facing him in the music practise rooms.

We were both a little taller, but I suspected we were
the same people. We were, but that is for a different
occasion.