Date: Tue, 22 Nov 2016 19:42:11 +1000
From: Storyteller Guy <newstories996@gmail.com>
Subject: We Got There In The End - Chapters 1 to 5

This is a work of fiction. It in no way resembles anything that has
happened in real life. You are reading this of your own accord.

Comments to newstories996@gmail.com, I'd love to head what you think.


WE GOT THERE IN THE END (b/b)


CH 1 – THE MOVE


It's not the kind of news any 14-year-old kid wants to hear. You've just
finished school for the summer, you've just had your birthday, and you're
told that your parents will be moving you halfway around the world so you
can slot straight into a new school, knowing nobody, in the middle of their
bloody year. My sister was keen, but that's just her nature. I sat there
like a stunned mullet after being told. It took a lot of cajoling from mum
and dad to at least get me to come around to the idea.

We'd lived in England since I was five; London, to be exact. I was born in
Australia, although I can hardly remember living there. I ended up with
this weird mostly English accent, which sounded even weirder in my
just-broken voice. It had been the bureaucrat's life – a leased terraced
house in the arse-end of Highbury paid for by the Australian government,
attending a mid-level grammar school with a bunch of other diplomatic
staff's kids, and the odd ticket to an Arsenal game (seriously, who has 60
quid to spend on their kids anymore?).

My parents were Australian, and my Dad had several senior jobs in the
Australian diplomatic corps. He'd been shuffled around in the embassy, in a
variety of positions; most recently, he was chief of staff to the
Australian high commissioner. Well, that was until he was asked to take on
some new management job in Canberra. Mum said he'd become a boffin; I said
he was slowly undermining the government on his way to world domination
(most of my family said I got his dry sense of humour).

I guess I felt largely Australian, as my Dad was particularly patriotic and
wouldn't have me "becoming a smarmy pommy bastard" (said with a cheeky
grin, of course). I never really felt properly Australian or English
though, and my friends always gave me a ribbing about it in the
schoolyard. Especially when the rugby or the cricket was on – I was
damned whoever I supported.

As Mum had family in Sydney, we were to live there and he'd commute on
weekends. Phone calls and arrangements were made and I was slotted into a
fusty all-boys private school (or what I used to call a public school) and
was sorted out with uniforms and what not. I shudder to think what my
parents would have paid if Dad didn't have his government connections. Dad
was an old boy, and really proud that I got to go there. I didn't really
care where I went so long as I would just fit in without any fuss.

I was a pretty friendly guy, I guess, but recently I'd become a little more
reserved. That's because I thought things that you didn't talk to other
boys about without getting bullied. Things like, how big is your dick, can
I touch your dick, do you mind that I wank to the thought of you naked,
that sort of thing. You get the picture.

Nonetheless, I had some great friends, and I hung out with them pretty
often. They were really disappointed that I was going, and I was really sad
that I wouldn't have any friends in Australia and would only have my mates
here available by Skype at weird hours of the day. Dave and Charlie managed
to get the lads all over to Mike's place for a farewell-type thing. There
were some girls there, too, but I didn't really speak to them. Dave, of
course, had three of them just about hanging off him.

I was bummed to be leaving, not least of which because I'd become sure that
one of our group, Jonny, was gay (or at least somewhat interested in boys),
and I wanted to experiment with him. I'd even seen his dick when he got
pantsed by Charlie during one of our kickabouts in the park – he was
very similar to me, which of course excited me greatly.

You see, almost all I'd been thinking about for about the last year were
boys. At the last school dance I'd met this girl called Evie, and we even
kissed. Although that was fun and all, and it got me hard, I would have
preferred it to be a boy. I'd wondered whether this conflict was just me
being horny all the time, or me just wanting to see what other boys or
like, or whether I was gay myself. The usual early teen boy torment, I
guess.

Moving was hard. We packed up all the stuff we'd accumulated in the nine
years in England and shoved it into boxes. There were photos, medals,
certificates, trinkets, and a bunch of other stuff that reminded me of what
a great time I'd had living here. I carefully took down my signed Henry
shirt from the wall and welled up. I wouldn't have imagined the former
Arsenal striker to have such an effect on me, but it was the act of taking
that off the wall that hit home that I was actually leaving. Dad won it in
a raffle when we'd just moved here – and it'd been up in my room ever
since. Mum came in to check on me, and gave me a big hug.

"I know it's hard, darling," she said, "but you'll love it in Australia."
Would I?

A day later, I stood in my empty room with just my suitcases. I thought
about my life here and how much I was going to miss it, until my Dad came
in and interrupted my reverie.

"You're being very strong, Harry," Dad said. "I'm proud of you,
mate. You're going to do just fine."

I forced a smile, but couldn't hide the worry in my face. Dad saw that,
tousled my hair and looked down at me.

"You look just like me when I was your age," he said. "Come on, let's go
and eat the lounge out of cheese!"

My friend Charlie and his family, who lived next door, came with us to the
airport. It was all I could do to not cry. Charlie, who most people said
looked like my brother (and he really probably was), gave me a big hug.

"I'll come out one summer," he said, "then you can come back over here."

I smiled. It was really nice of him to be already making plans like
that. "I'll Skype you when I get there," I said.

I think I even saw a little tear in Charlie's eye as I walked off through
immigration and off to my new life.

The government paid for Mum and Dad's tickets, so they went in the fancy
seats. I looked after my sister in shitsville up the back of the plane as a
bureaucrat's wage wouldn't stretch to plum seats for us. Still, I just
about cleaned the lounge out of cheese with Dad – as planned – before
we boarded. Even though she was 12 and going through puberty herself, Liv
and I were very close and somehow missed that awkward patch teenage
siblings of the opposite sex often have. Mind you, 24 hours of travel in a
metal tube can get to you. Luckily we had a spare seat next to us (probably
the airline being overly cautious about putting a random person next to two
kids), and my sister and I weren't tall and didn't have long legs, so it
wasn't that bad. A lovely attendant called Janet made friends with us, and
we had everything we needed the whole way.

Dad started his job on 1 July, a few days after we landed, and I was to
start school not long after that. School wasn't far from where we lived;
although it was a small block by Australia's standards, the four-bedroom
house Mum and Dad chose was way better than a poky London terrace. It was
going to be hard for Mum during the week with Dad not there, particularly
as Liv was going to school across the harbour, but we were close enough to
the train and my school that I'd be able to get around. Charlie was
instantly jealous when I showed him the house on Skype – he said he
could take the spare room. I wished that he could.

Seeing as I'd be dropping into school in the middle of the year, my new
form teacher Mr Davis wanted to meet with me before school started to get
me acquainted with everything.

"Must be tough, moving all this way just for your folks," he said when I
went in to his office a couple of days before school started. "It's a good
class, though. I'll put you next to Jake for the first few days, then you
can shift around like most of the boys do. I'm sure you'll fit in just
fine."

Mr Davis had clearly done this before, as his voice was reassuring and his
silver hair said to me that he must have been teaching for ages. He took me
around the school, and it looked fantastic. I just hoped I'd make some
friends to make good use of it all.

My first day came around, and Mr Davis told me to report to his office when
I got in so he could give me all my books. I think he just wanted me to
have a place to go before school, seeing as I didn't know anyone. It worked
a treat, and he introduced me to Jake when we got into the classroom. He
was a really friendly guy, with a welcoming, chubby face and build.

"Welcome to the hell house," he said with a smile as we shook hands, "Mr
Davis is a terrible teacher." I knew instantly why Jake was to show me the
ropes.

"Now, Jake, don't make me put you in detention for insubordination," Mr
Davis quipped back.

"That's not fair, sir," Jake said. "You know I don't know what that means."
We laughed. "Harry, little help?"

Maybe this was a test – lucky English was my favourite subject. "That
means not following orders," I responded. Both seemed impressed.

"Well then, seems the poms aren't all idiots after all," Jake said as he
nudged me. "C'mon, let's go inside."

Mr Davis introduced me once we'd sat down. "Everyone, this is Harry
Goldman, he's just moved back here from England. Make sure you all say
hello and introduce yourselves." I felt awkward with all the eyes on me,
and I nodded briefly as if to say `yes, hello, now please look elsewhere'.

The first lesson, maths, was sufficiently boring to get me back into the
school year. I don't know if there was some kind of mistake with my year
level or something, but it all just seemed pretty cruisy. Throughout the
day, a few class members came to say hello, and I just observed the
rest. Some were nice, some were weird, some were just rude jock-type people
– just a standard class, I guess.

It turned out Jake was the funniest kid in the class. Maybe it was his
teddy bear-type build, or his outgoing demeanour, but he was just fun to be
around. I didn't think he was the type of kid I'd become really close to
because I never really got along much with the class funny guys, but what a
wonder stroke from Mr Davis for the icebreaking – maybe this transition
would be easier after all.

When it came time for lunch, Jake said I should hang out with him and his
group. Well, I sure wasn't going to hang out on my own, so of course I
accepted. There were a few guys from another class, who were nice enough;
but there was one guy from our class I hadn't met yet. After Jake
introduced me to the other guys, I accidentally locked eyes with the guy
from my class. Luckily, he smiled.

"I'm Rhys," he said, holding out his hand. I shook it and smiled back.

"Cool, I'm Harry," I said. `He knows that ...' I thought, so I quickly
added, "I've met so many people today I've just about forgotten who I am."

Rhys smiled politely. "I'll bet."

I savoured Rhys' touch. He had slender, relatively long fingers, and a soft
palm – but a firm handshake. It wasn't one of those movie-moments where
I fell in love with the guy, but it was a weird connection. It didn't just
feel good; it felt right, somehow. And it was beginning to turn me on. His
bloody hand was turning me on. They're not wrong when they say teenagers
are the horniest people on the planet.

Whether because of this or otherwise, we continued looking at each other
for probably a split second longer than was necessary. Rhys turned his head
to listen in to whatever the others were talking about to break the
gaze. `He's got a nice face, and he's pretty thin,' I thought, as I checked
him out in my periphery. `A bit taller than me I guess. Gee, looks like
great legs – I reckon he's pretty hot.' And there it was; I started to
get my first boner at my new school.

I hadn't even been there a day and I'd already mentally undressed one of
the boys. There was just no stopping my sex-crazed mind. Although, at least
there had been some sort of connection and it wasn't just a random thought.

Eventually, thoughts of the previous maths class dealt with the boner
situation. I concentrated on the other boys' conversation, but I continued
to steal looks at Rhys. He wasn't your typical Adonis-type, I didn't think,
but I just had to keep stealing glances. Maybe it was that prior connection
I felt, or maybe it was my usual `I-wonder-how-big-he-is' thoughts. I had a
vivid imagination, you see.

The group were talking about regular stuff, and I was just listening, with
not a lot to contribute. Jake seemed to notice this and brought me in. "Hey
Harry, you're a pom, you like soccer, right?" Finally – something I had
some authority on! "Yeah, we call it football," I said. "You guys follow
the premier league?" And with that, I discovered that Jake and Rhys were
Liverpool fans, while two of the other three – whose names turned out to
be Andy and Sean – were soccer nuts too. Glenn, the third guy, just
didn't like it and played rugby instead.

There was lively discussion ("Aren't scrums a bit gay?" "Better than diving
on the ground like a dickhead!"), and whilst I didn't feel like I was
contributing much, at least I was included. It turns out Rhys was quite
good at football, and he was going to try out for the first XI next year,
despite the fact that he'd only turn 15 half way through the season next
ear and he'd be playing with the seniors.

"You have to see him play," Jake said, "un-fucking-believable."

I looked over at Rhys, who had gone a little shy. I pictured him running
around in his football kit, darting this way and that, his shorts billowing
around his slender legs. Another boner promptly began itself. I felt myself
pump to full size when I pictured him wearing bike shorts, holding his
bulge in place and accentuating his magnificent thighs. These boners, two
of which happened in the last ten minutes, were becoming far too frequent
for my liking. Well, too frequent during school hours, at least. `I wonder
what his bulge is like,' my horned-up mind wondered. `Must be a bit of an
early bloomer if he's taller than me.'

The day eventually wore on (boner-free, too), with a boring history class
after lunch and an English lesson to finish. I waited patiently at the
agreed pick-up spot, and eventually my mum came to pick me up after she'd
got Liv.

"How was it, darling?" she excitedly asked.

"Pretty good thanks mum," I answered. "Mr Davis put me with a boy called
Jake who showed me everything, and I met a boy called Rhys who really likes
football. Oh and I met some other people, so it didn't go too badly at
all."

My mum sounded relieved. "Oh, wonderful," she said – her catch phrase of
sorts.

Liv was far more outgoing than I was, and she couldn't wait to tell me how
her day was. She'd make friends with a post if you dressed it up; so, of
course, she'd already made friends with her whole class. As it turned out,
one of the girls lived within walking distance. When we were driving home,
though, we found that she lived in a massive house right on the
harbour. "Bit out of our price range, darlings" Mum remarked, almost in
awe. "She never said she lived in THAT!" Liv remarked.

That night, Rhys' face and the visions of his slender footballer's body
entered my mind as I turned on the shower. Naked, I looked at myself in the
mirror, and looked for areas of comparison to Rhys and general
improvement. My brown-blonde hair was wavy, but not unkempt; my regulation
haircut just sat on my head, indistinguishable from most boys my age. My
face was, as my grandmother said, `quaint'; my body was adequate – I
wasn't muscular and I was relatively thin, but my abs just had enough of a
covering that if I tensed, not much happened. There was no discernible gut,
though, so at least I didn't look like a slob. My legs were pretty average,
not too long, and not too skinny; my dick – which was five inches hard,
on the button, and circumcised – sat below a small bunch of curly
pubes. I thought of Rhys, and looked at myself – maybe I should try to
get a footballer's body. Maybe I need to grow six inches.

I gave my cock a few tugs to see if I was in the mood, and the thought of
Rhys' legs quickly got it up to full mast. It fit my hand nicely – it
wasn't that thick, nor was it particularly long, but it was nice and smooth
thanks to an accurate circumcision with just a slight upward curve. I
admired my small yet plump bush, which hadn't matured into an unkempt
forest but was probably on the way. A few strokes later, and I thought I'd
better get in the shower before Mum got suspicious.

As I stepped into the shower, I caught my back view in the mirror, and
smiled. My bubble butt was still with me – maybe if I trained too hard,
it would transform into something less cute. I sighed and accepted that I
was fit enough; my body was reasonable; and my dick was adequate. I stepped
under the hot shower and relaxed.  `Enough sex thoughts,' I thought. I was
just too tired from what had been a relatively emotional and in the end
relief-filled day. After a relaxing shower I dried off, put some undies on,
and hopped into bed. I didn't even have time to think about the day before
I drifted off.


CH 2 – THE VISION


I got to school relatively early the next morning, as Mum was dropping me
first before braving the traffic and the Harbour Bridge to take Liv. I
walked through the grounds, down towards the year nine building, thinking
that maybe I'd be established here sooner than I thought. I had a minor
moment of terror as I approached my locker thinking I'd forgotten my
combination, but thankfully it came to me just in time.

As I put my stuff in my locker, a huge, oafish fellow who I remembered was
in my class was walking by. He looked about 17 already, was completely
ripped (which was obvious as his shirt was far too tight) and looked almost
as if he had a wife and kids living down the road. I decided to be
friendly.

"Daniel, right?" I asked timidly as I smiled.

"McLean, fuckwit," he spat abruptly. "And you earn the fucking right to
talk to me." He walked on as I stood there stunned. 'What did I do?' I
thought to myself. 'I just said hello.'

"Just don't talk to him," a voice said to my left. I turned, and another
kid from my class was approaching. I think it was the kid whose usual desk
I took. "He's a real prick, and so are his mates."

"Thanks," I said timidly. "Dean isn't it?"

He was a small kid, obviously a late bloomer. He had a voice that seemed
like it was about to break, but hadn't quite yet. A bit of puppy fat
adorned him, and a shaggy mop of dark hair rounded off the rather unkempt
look.

"Yup," he said, throwing his bags into his locker. "Gonna steal my seat
again?"

I was a bit worked up, and I couldn't tell if he was serious, and I had to
look over - only to see him smiling. "Just joking," he said. What a relief.

"Wanna play some handball?" He produced a tennis ball, and we moved over to
the forecourt and started playing. Eventually, a few more kids came along
and we passed the time until class started.

It was another boring day – science was all theory, and French was
easier than I had remembered in England. Thankfully, though, third period
was PE. I always enjoyed my sport, and I was also looking forward to having
a good look around the change room. I had an eagle eye for this sort of
thing, you see.

When I got to the gym, I suddenly got all nervous, realising that none of
the boys in my class had ever seen me get changed. Acting self-consciously,
I rather hurriedly got my PE kit on and didn't even look around to see who
was near me. That was a shame, as only once dressed did I realise that Rhys
was one boy down from me.

"Right, everyone over here please," the teacher said when we entered the
main hall. "Ah, you must be Harry – I'm Mr O'Hare," he said, sticking
out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said politely as I reciprocated the handshake.

"Same to you," Mr O'Hare said, before he turned to the group and clapped
his hands once. "Five laps of the hall to warm up, fellas!" A groan
emanated from some as we began to jog.

As it turned out, Mr O'Hare was pretty cool, and so was the lesson – we
did a bunch of ball drills, before we had a half-court game of basketball,
or five-a-side indoor football, depending where Mr O'Hare put us. McLean
was just pushing people around like a rugby game, and it took a strong
talking to from Mr O'Hare to get him to stop. Luckily he wasn't in any of
the games that I was in, or I'd probably have broken something.

"Righto lads, that'll do for today," Mr O'Hare boomed at the end of the
lesson. "Barrow, your turn to tidy up, and Goldman, no free first lesson
for you, help him, would you? The rest of you lot all go off and get
changed."

`Barrow? Who's Barrow?' I thought, as I instinctively went to gather up the
pop up football goals. "But sir, he's only just started here," a familiar
voice said. Who on earth was sticking up for me so soon?

I turned around; it was Rhys. "I know," Mr O'Hare said with a smile, "best
get him started early. Now hurry up you two, just because you're getting a
late pass doesn't mean you can take forever." Mr O'Hare opened the door to
the equipment room, and in about five or ten minutes, we had everything
packed up.

"Make sure you put these straight into your pencil cases so you don't lose
them," Mr O'Hare said as he handed us our signed passes. "Yes sir, thank
you," Rhys said on our behalf.

"And don't stuff around!" Mr O'Hare said loudly as he left the hall.

As we went back into the change room, the last few boys were putting their
shoes on and promptly left. It was a little odd that it was just the two of
us left in there, so I kept up random conversation as we went back to our
bags to avoid awkwardness. It might have been just me reading into it, but
I thought I saw Rhys shuffle his bag closer to me.

I had positioned myself so that if I saw Rhys take his shorts off in my
periphery, I could shoot a glance sideways and see what he was
packing. After all, that was the one area our uniforms didn't provide any
visual information about.

Once we'd taken our shoes and socks off at a similar pace, Rhys was the
first to take off his PE shirt. Out of the corner of my eye, I got a
glimpse at his slim torso – that perfect early teen boy look. There was
not a six pack readily visible, but there was enough definition to make any
interested boy salivate. It was all I could do to not gawk straight at
him. As Rhys was buttoning his school shirt, I returned the favour, hoping
to catch Rhys catching a glimpse of me. Unfortunately, I didn't notice any
wandering eyes in his direction.

It was now time for the main attraction (I would later laugh uncontrollably
by myself at home thinking how absurd it was that my mind was treating this
like a circus show, or some weird cabaret). Rhys slid his sports shorts
down, and as he did so, I caught an orange fleck in the corner of his
eye. I turned his eyes to see a side-on view of Rhys wearing orange
boxer-briefs. When Rhys stepped out of his PE shorts, the movement of his
legs opened up Rhys' stance, allowing a slightly better view of the whole
thing; the action Rhys of moving his legs also bunched his shirt up,
allowing an unobstructed view of the front of Rhys' undies. And it wasn't
the Bonds logo around the waistband that caught my attention.

For a brief moment, I then saw the outline of what looked like a fire hose
in Rhys' underpants. A long, sausage-shaped object which could only have
been his flaccid teen penis was lying majestically lengthways, easily
viewable now that I was looking straight at it. With Rhys' slim frame, and
long, slender legs, it at least looked from my viewing point that he had a
cock that was certainly bigger than mine. It was big, sure, but it just
looked ... maybe emphatic was the right word. It didn't look comically out
of place, either. And I was very excited by it; so excited, in fact, that I
felt the familiar tingling of the start of a boner. Mental pictures were
being taken at a thousand frames a second. Soft, it looked a little smaller
than my cock when it was hard – and that was just over 5 inches.

As Rhys stepped into his school trousers and started pulling them up, I
couldn't pull my eyes away. That sausage was definitely not a lump of
fabric; a lovely, round scrotum-shaped mound was even visible as well. The
tight orange material hugged Rhys' legs and package as if there were neon
signs on Rhys' shirt saying `look down there'. Whilst admiring and visually
devouring the sight before me, I suddenly felt Rhys' eyes on me. I quickly
pulled my glance away, embarrassed at the fact that there was very little
chance that Rhys hadn't seen me looking.

Having changed slowly to that point, focusing on Rhys rather than my own
clothes, I hurriedly continued changing – but there was just no way I
could forget that beautiful sight that I had just seen. `Holy fucking shit,
what a cock!!' my brain exclaimed to itself. I was so focused on my
thoughts that I didn't even look to see if Rhys was looking at me. Nothing
in my periphery alerted me to that anyway.

My moment of capture by Rhys was, to me at least, seemingly forgotten as I
struck up new conversation while we put on our shoes about the sport that
was to come on the weekend. Rhys and I didn't stop talking all the way from
the gym to our form room, where we presented Mr Davis with our late
slips. After he made a joke about needing to confirm the arrangement with
Mr O'Hare, we both found a seat. Dean had taken his seat back next to Jake,
and shot me a "gotcha" look, so I ended up sitting next to this
blonde-haired kid called Archer.

He was a really nice kid, and he was pretty talkative. Maybe he was showing
off his newly broken voice, but a more likely conclusion was that he was
just a nice guy. We even nearly got in trouble a few times for talking from
Mr Davis. He was short, but looked very muscular; turned out he was the
school's gymnastics star. Of course, this sent my mind racing. `I wonder
what sort of flexibility he's got,' I thought, imagining his legs over his
head with a rippling little six-pack and tight pucker in full view, smiling
back at me. Another class, another sex thought, another boner.

When I went home that night, the actual image of Rhys in his underpants,
combined with the mental image of him naked and boned up about to fuck
Archer missionary style, got me harder than I'd been in a long time. I lay
on my back absolutely going to town on myself with my right hand, while I
caressed my tummy with my left. `That six pack can't be far away now!' I
thought, momentarily straying from my erotic thoughts. My balls were
bouncing all over the place as I lightly arched my back and yanked my
rock-hard cock furiously.

Needless to say, I came hard. I wasn't concentrating on my aim, and the
first shot went straight onto my chin, with the next three going further
down my torso. Given it was close to my mouth, I gave it a taste, as I
often did – not the best thing I'd ever tasted, pretty salty, and with a
weird texture. I promptly got up and used a few tissues to wipe myself down
(including trying to get the last of the glob out of my pubes as I hadn't
accounted for gravity as I'd got up off my bed, and it had travelled down
my stomach).

--

As the next few weeks progressed, Rhys and I talked a lot before class,
between classes, and after class; mainly about football, but also just
about general stuff. I got the impression that we were becoming good
friends because we just seemed to gravitate to one another if we weren't
hanging with the rest of the group. We liked the same stuff, and our
personalities were pretty similar. He was easily my best friend in
Australia, anyway. Though we rarely sat next to each other in lessons, we
hung out at lunchtime with Jake and his crew and chatted on Facebook a
lot. I really liked his company.

Despite (or maybe because of) our budding friendship, he continued to be my
number one target for peeking when we all got changed for PE. He certainly
loved his boxer briefs – I would find out through the term that he had
blue ones, green ones, striped ones, grey ones, the lot. And, with each new
colour that I saw, I'd go home frig myself to the thought of him taking
them off and me finally getting a look at and a feel of the pipe he carried
in there.

I'd managed to get a good look at Archer's body, too. He most certainly did
have a rippling six-pack, in addition to having the perfect trapezoid body
shape. Visions of him naked in all sorts of positions were the source of a
number of my masturbatorial fantasies.

I'd missed the tryouts for the rugby and football seasons given that I
started halfway through the year, so unlike about half the grade, I didn't
play any sport on Saturdays. Maybe it was a trade-off, but Mum let me stay
up to watch any random sport we could get in our pay TV package on the
weekends. It was a great time for me to Skype my English mates
(particularly Charlie who fancied a girl he'd met) who on Saturdays would
invariably be off to the park for a kick-around. That always made me really
miss England, but it was great to be able to keep in contact. I was
determined I wasn't going to lose them, and I just hoped they felt the same
way. The banter over the webcam was the same – just like being back in
the school yard.

I had been trying to think of an excuse to go and watch Rhys play soccer
for the school, particularly seeing as he was in the grade 9 A team. They
said he was bloody good, and we were friends and all, but if I rocked up
just to watch, wouldn't people ask why I came? `Oh, yeah, I just came to
perv on Rhys, you know?' Yeah, that probably wouldn't be the line to go
with.

Mind you, the lads back in England couldn't understand why they wouldn't
let me play – I was as good as them. They all thought that because the
Socceroos weren't that great, everyone in Australia sucked at football. Of
course, like every kid in England, I thought I was pretty good. `If only
they'd let me play,' I thought, `I could watch Rhys play up close.' Or what
I would have told everyone, `so I could show how good I am.'

So, instead of playing sport, I just put my head down trying to fit in at
school during the week. And really, by my standards, I'd settled in quite
quickly. I had no distinguishing features or personality traits that would
single me out for bullying. McLean and his cronies called me a nerd because
I topped two of the subjects' end of term tests, but I'd got that sort of
chat in England so I wasn't worried. Mr Davis just looked at McLean every
time he teased me about it, almost powerless to stop his antics. I learned
that McLean's dad was the Deputy Premier, so it was like he could just
about do what he liked. And boy didn't he just do that.

--

When the last week of school came around, I was hoping that I'd made good
enough friends with Jake, Rhys and the boys that I'd be included in their
plans over the break. On the day before we broke up, the subject finally
came around to conversation. "So, what are you all doing for the holidays?"
Jake asked the group.

"Just bumming around at home," Andy said. "Lots of new games I wanna try
out."

"Same here," Sean and Glenn piped in.

"I finally won't be getting babied by my sister," Rhys said, "she's gone to
France for the holidays."

"Party at Rhys' house!" Jake yelled. We all laughed.

"Well, actually, Mum said I could have some people round on Friday after
school. Do you guys want to come over?" Rhys said to the group.

"Yeah, that'd be cool," I said enthusiastically, suddenly realising I'd
practically blurted it out without having contributed anything substantial
for the whole conversation. Luckily, though, it was missed as the others
chimed in – though not as I expected.

"Aw man, I can't. I've gotta go to my cousin's engagement party," Jake
said.

"Shit, I've got my drum lesson," Andy said.

"Can't, sorry man, Mum wants us all home for a family dinner." Sean sounded
pretty disappointed. "Dad will probably still be late anyway."

"I've got my club game then," Glenn said. "Can't miss it, we're second from
top."

"Oh well, thanks, you pricks! At least Harry's a good bloke and didn't make
up some stupid excuse!" Rhys said in a mock-accusatory tone.

"Hey, you think I want to see my fat cousin eat some stupid cake?" Jake
playfully shot back. Andy, Sean and Glenn were all equally bummed. "You can
finally see how shit he is at FIFA, Harry," Jake added.

I smiled at Rhys. "Here comes the Arsenal!" He gave me a sly smile
back. "You can't just pick a five-star t-" I interrupted him by starting a
football chant: "And it's AAAArsenal, AAAArsenal FC!"

The other boys broke up in fits of laughter. "Oh, it's on!" cried Jake, in
the midst of it. Rhys and I looked at each other while we laughed. "Just
you wait, Goldman ..." he said in a fake menacing tone, waggling his finger
playfully at me.

As I looked around the boys in the aftermath of that conversation, I smiled
contentedly. It was great to feel truly part of the group. I loved that
Rhys and I had grown close enough through our mutual love of football that
he didn't even baulk at the idea of me coming over without the other
guys. What's more, if it was just me and him, maybe there'd be more of an
opportunity to get up to some other hijinks. Regardless, I was really
excited about the night.

"Hey Rhys, where do you live?" I asked.

"Oh, I've never told you? Uh, I'm at Wollstonecraft, it's near here. Do you
know where that is?"

"Is it next to St Leonards?"

"Yeah," he said genuinely impressed. "How come you know that already?"

I absolutely beamed. "Because I live in St Leonards."

He opened his mouth before grinning back. "No way! That's cool! Tell me
your address, I'll look it up on Google Maps."

We both looked in at his phone and he typed my address in, then his. It
turned out he, like Liv's friend, lived in a massive house near the
harbour; it was about a 20-minute walk from our place. "Nice and easy," I
said. I just couldn't wait to get home and ask Mum.

Eventually, the day finished and I practically ran to the train and down
the road home. Once I'd told Mum Rhys lived in the next suburb and within
walking distance, it was a fait accompli.

"My kids are making friends with people that live in harbourside mansions,"
Mum said with a smile as she shook her head in admiration. "Way to go!"

Wise beyond her years, Liv chimed in. "Surely you'd be happy if we just
made friends, right?"

"Oh yes, darling, of course," Mum said, "I just like tennis courts." We all
had a giggle.

Later that night, I chatted to Rhys on Facebook. It's a go, I typed.

`Awesome!! Mum can pick us up straight from school so bring all your stuff
in your sports bag or something.'

`What stuff, like PJs, a jumper and a toothbrush?'

`Bring your swimming stuff too, the pool's heated and it's great in winter
:)'

`Oh awesome, you got a pool?? great! Plus it's not winter it's bloody
September!'

`Lets see whos shivering when they get out then!!'

`Hehe, alright, I'll pack up and cya tomoz!'

To say I was excited was a complete understatement. A new city, a new
friend, a new opportunity. Never in my wildest dreams would I have believed
that I'd fit in so quickly. Feeling relaxed, and with just one day of
school between me, the holidays, and a sleepover with a boy I'd fantasised
about since I'd met him, I drifted off into a blissful sleep.


CH 3 – THE ENCOUNTER


Last day of term. The last day for two weeks my bloody alarm would break my
slumber all too early. My favourite day of the term, as well. At least it
was in England, because we did stuff all in class, and then there were two
weeks of glorious holidays. As it happened, it was exactly the same in
Australia, although despite the probably exorbitant fees our parents paid,
they expected us to help clean up the school. Probably something about
character building, I guess, and it was just a bonus they then didn't have
to pay cleaners.

Once I got to school, though, the day seemed to drag, as I hardly saw Rhys
or any of the group all day. Luckily, Rhys and I got paired up in the last
lesson as Mr Davis gave us various cleaning jobs so the place wouldn't
fester while we were on holidays. McLean just sauntered around like an
asshole; Mr Davis kept glaring at him, wanting to tear strips off him. I
guess Mr Davis liked being employed so said nothing.

When the bell went, Rhys and I instinctively turned to each other and did a
high-five.

"Let's roll!" He said.

As we made our way to our lockers, we chatted to Jake, Andy, Sean and
Glenn, all of whom were bummed they couldn't hang out tonight. I, however,
couldn't have been happier they hadn't made it. I got to hang with Rhys by
myself! The thought of what might transpire, however unlikely that may have
been, was exciting. And even if there was no sex stuff, or touching, or
even looking, I still got to hang out with my (relatively) new friend. It
was going to be awesome.

When we approached Rhys' Mum's car, I thought I'd better make a good
impression. "Hello, Mrs Barrow," I said as soon as I'd got in. "I'm Harry
Goldman."

"Ah, Harry, lovely to finally meet you," Rhys' mum said. "Rhys has told me
all about you."

I looked at Rhys. "All terrible, I suppose, Mrs Barrow," I said with a
grin. Rhys' mum chuckled. I immediately saw where Rhys got that trait from.

"Oh, call me Karen." That was such an un-English thing to do, and it would
feel weird, but I smiled and nodded as I relaxed into the plush leather
seat. `They're not short of a penny,' I thought to myself as I looked
around the expensive-looking interior.

It was a hop, skip and a jump to Rhys' place, and I sat open mouthed as we
went through the gates. "This is it," Rhys said.

"It's unbelievable," I said, completely struck. "This is awesome!"

Rhys looked a little embarrassed, but I smiled at him. The big two-story
house was set back just far enough from the fence that I caught a glimpse
of its majesty.

Rhys' mum drove the car in the garage. "Rhys, I've put a matrass in your
room for Harry, so go up and show him, will you?"

He agreed, and we bundled through the massive living room, towards the
straight wooden stairs and upstairs to Rhys' pad.

It was a pretty big room, with a king single bed, quite a large desk, and
what I was really jealous of – a TV and an Xbox.

"Dude, this is amazing," I said with a big smile. "Your own TV? That is so
cool!"

While I was looking around, I almost tripped over the matrass, and Rhys
laughed. "Watch yourself doofus, don't break a bone before we've even gone
in the pool!"

We agreed that it was time to yahoo around the pool, so I went off to the
bathroom to get changed. I was too excited about having a fun time that
thoughts of sex, oddly enough, escaped my mind.

Until I saw Rhys in his boardies, that was.

"Ready?" He asked me as I met him outside the bathroom once I'd changed.

There he was, shirtless, and in boardies. There was no denying, Rhys was
hot. Some people are all about the rippling muscles, but Rhys' slender
frame had just the right amount of definition; a big six-pack and rippling
muscly arms would have looked out of place.

"Hell yeah," I shot back, deliberately not taking any time to properly take
in his body in case he found me out.

He promptly started running off. "Catch me then!" At least I got a good
view of the rear as he darted off. Not quite my bubble butt, but his two
nicely formed globes bounced in time with his sprint.

That started about an hour's worth of yahooing in and around the pool. Even
though Rhys' mum told us to stop running, we managed to keep up the
intensity. There were classic catches, swimming races, two-man brandy, and
a bunch of other games. By the time we were ready to get out, I was pretty
buggered.

When we did get out, I just did what I normally did and dried myself off
from head to toe, without taking my boardies off. I'd do that later in the
privacy of the bathroom when I got changed, even if it made my towel a bit
wetter.

But Rhys did something different. Having not seen him around a pool before,
I didn't know if this was habit or if he was peacocking. He dried his torso
and head meticulously, and really rather slowly.

"Doesn't your towel get sodden from your boardies when you dry them?" He
then said.

I then immediately heard the *scratch* of velcro being undone. I had to say
something to make it seem like I was already occupied, while I turned my
head to find the source of the sound.

"Nah, it's fine, I get dry enough," I said, before the wind was taken from
my lungs. Rhys' boardies were around his ankles as he began to dry the
lower half of his body.

I didn't see the whole area because his towel was obscuring part of his
hips, but I definitely saw those same orange boxer briefs he was wearing
that I'd replayed in my mind so many times. This time, though, the water
made them cling to him closer to his body than anything's ever clung to
anything before.

There was no mistaking – Rhys had a big, beautiful dick. I just wanted
to see it for real, to play with it, and see if it worked like
mine. Another split second, another mental image. I could feel myself
getting hard again.

Rhys took his legs out of his boardies threw them off to the side as he
continued drying his crotch and legs. Watching this spectacle, I was as
hard as a nail – luckily, it was tucked up and pointing north. There
continued to be little glimpses of Rhys' package as his towel moved around
his body. That package, above those skinny legs, was just plain hot.

Next, he either knew exactly what he was doing, or he looked up at just the
right moment. Either way, I got sprung, just like I had been in PE, and
felt his eyes boring into my scull as he spotted my looking at him drying
himself. I immediately lifted my towel to dry my hair so my eyes couldn't
look anywhere but the inside of my towel. `Fuck, he saw me – I gotta
conceal my boner!' When I'd finished drying my head, Rhys had his towel
around his waist and was putting a t-shirt on over his beautifully petite
torso. I hurriedly towelled up, hopefully concealing what was now,
thankfully due to embarrassment, a readily deflating erection.

He looked at me and smiled. "You want a coke?"

I agreed, and we went inside. I conversed as normally as possible, trying
desperately not to replay the image of him changing in my mind so I
wouldn't get hard again. As our conversation continued it seemed that Rhys
wasn't going to press the issue of me gawking at his genitals. I was
certainly going to be revisiting that image in my mind for some time to
come, though.

Seeing as that was all out of the way, it was time for some serious video
gaming before dinner. I went back into the bathroom and put on my comfy
shirt and shorts and some dry underpants, as Rhys did the same in his room
and fired up the Xbox. We started on some Battlefield, but we were both
shit at that; we tried some Forza, but I was rubbish at driving; so we
settled on FIFA.

"Aha, now we're talking," I grinned as Rhys put in the disk. "Hat trick for
Ozil coming right up!"

Rhys smiled. "Just go easy on me? Plus, my Liverpool need all the help they
can get!"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Not a chance!"

After I'd resoundingly beaten Rhys twice (without comment either time, as I
didn't want to make fun of him in his own house), we settled on some online
co-op. We were teaming really well, and getting some good wins and moving
up the ranks. We covered the usual topics while we played – sport,
people at school, some more sport, crazy stupid ideas, and then some more
sport.

Eventually, it was time for dinner – and for me to meet Rhys' Dad,
Richard. He was a tall, imposing fellow, with the same dark hair as Rhys,
but he had a soft, deep voice and was actually quite nice. He just about
crushed my hand with his handshake, though.

Rhys' mum sure knew how to nail Friday night dinner – she'd made pizzas
from scratch, followed by ice cream with a bunch of toppings. I couldn't
stop complimenting her on how good it all tasted – "you're alright, you
know, Harry," she remarked. I smiled like the suck-up I was.

After we'd eaten, we watched some TV with his mum and dad. I just sat there
in a contented daze, somehow preventing myself from falling asleep. I'd
burned all my energy in the pool, I'd just about seen my hot friend's dick,
I'd eaten a massive dinner, and I'd had a great time with my best friend in
Australia.

After we'd watched a couple of random shows, Rhys said "you wanna play some
more FIFA?" Of course, I accepted, and we went upstairs. We were starting
to lose a few games, probably because we were getting tired. Rhys seemed to
be a bit vacant, though, like he had something on his mind. I didn't want
to press him, it being Friday night and all, so we just kept going.

Eventually, his mum came in and wished us goodnight, and told us not to
forget to clean our teeth or make too much noise. Of course, we agreed, and
went back to the game.

We were playing some Russian kids, we were up 3-0, and I was incredibly
relaxed. While I was not particularly concentrating, knowing we'd won yet
another game, Rhys started up out of the blue, without breaking his gaze
from the game.

"You sure look at me a lot when we're getting changed."

Slam. Oh god.

I'd just been sprung. That sinking feeling in my stomach hit, and my cheeks
started to go red. If Rhys wasn't looking at the screen, I would have been
caught red handed just on looks alone. I took a split second to compose
myself, let out a fake-snort-laugh-thing, and tried to stay cool.

"No I don't".

There was a weird pause, like Rhys was wondering whether or not to accept
what I'd said. He kept looking at the screen as we played.

"I don't mind, you know."

Was this a mind game? Was he trying to catch me out? I was absolutely
terrified about being found out and called gay. Even if he knew, I had to
deny it. What if he told everyone in my grade? I had to keep up the
charade. Mustering all the courage I could, I looked right at him.

"I don't look at you," I said as firmly as I could. The irony was lost on
us both.

There was another pause; Rhys had the beginnings of a little smirk on his
face.

"Relax, man, it's not like I'm going to tell anyone." Yet another
pause. "Plus, I kinda like it."

Hang on, was that what I thought it was? Had my dreams just fucking come
true? Was ... did he like it? It threw me right off.

"W... what do you mean?"

Like clockwork, the final whistle went in the game. He looked over at me.

"Well, do you wanna see it?"

I looked him in the eye, speechless. "I ..."

He had a reassuring smile and softness in his eyes. "Don't worry, I won't
tell."

"Rhys, I ... I don't ... know ..." I was absolutely crimson by this point.

"Cmon, just us."

I couldn't resist; even in accepting, I still maintained the stupid charade
that this wasn't the most important thing in the world to me right at that
moment. "OK, I guess."

My heart was pounding in my chest and it was like time slowed. As he got up
off the floor, I got up as well and sat down on his bed. Like he was
showing off a new phone, or something, he slid down his pants and
underpants in one move revealing what was beneath them, sliding his shirt
up to give me an unobstructed view.

What was revealed was nothing short of jaw-dropping. A semi-hard, perfectly
proportioned, uncut dick was beginning to balloon over a smooth, round
sack. Atop the majesty was a bush of dark pubes, to which my view was
directed by the mythical `V' of his pelvis. My eyes went wide; my mouth
went open; and I'm pretty sure all the blood in my body went straight to my
penis. Rhys' heart beat his cock into a full erection, and it was as if God
himself had personally designed it, and choreographed the unveiling, as
this unbelievable cock inflated into a raging boner.

Rhys stood there, a throbbing, long, smooth cock jutting out. "Holy shit,"
I managed. "That is ... that's pretty big," I managed.

He looked really pleased with himself. "Yeah," he said, "it's 6 and a half
inches."

I continued to marvel at it. "Wow. Pretty thick, too," was all I could
manage, as I continued to take in the sight before me. I was beginning to
become aware that I may poke a hole in my pants myself. Rhys gave it a slow
stroke.

"Let me see yours, then," Rhys said. "Fair's fair."

I stood up off the bed and took off my shorts. "It's, ah ... not quite as
big as yours."

Rhys smiled. "I don't care."

Be that as it may, my young teen cock was straining against my red
briefs. I was tenting harder than I ever had been before, the waistband of
my undies just jutting away from above my pubes. I was rewarded with a
reassuring "cool" from Rhys, giving me the confidence to go all the way. I
slipped my briefs down, and my rock hard member sprang up and bobbed in
front of me. For the first time, I had displayed my 5 inches of cut teen
cock to another person. Rhys seemed very enamoured with it.

"Wow, nice dick man."

"Thanks," I said meekly, like he'd just given me a coke or something.

As we now faced each other, standing, we began to compare. "Yours is way
bigger, it's a little thicker but it's much longer," I said.

"Yeah, but yours is cut and looks cool."

"Yours looks huge `cause you're pretty skinny. Mine's pretty small soft,
too."

Rhys said "doesn't matter, looks way cool when it's hard."

We both look at each other's for a few seconds before Rhys said, "wanna
jack off?"

I smiled, "yeah."

We needed no further incentive as we started to beat our meat. I was going
pretty quickly, because I was so turned on by the whole experience and
thought I might explode. Rhys was going a bit more slowly, seemingly taking
the whole situation into account. I watched his hand go up and down his
long shaft, with his balls bobbing around with each stroke.

As I was getting into it, Rhys just said "can I feel yours?"

I was far less taken aback and more emboldened than when Rhys was last
making enquiries of me, so I said "um, yeah, can I feel yours?"

It was agreed, and we both let go of our rock hard members and immediately
grasped one another's. The feeling was, put simply, fucking electric. It
was all the strength I could muster to stop myself passing out as my eyes
involuntarily closed, and I let out as small sigh.

Upon reopening my eyes, an "oh, wow" was all I could manage as a complete
sensory overload hit my body. Firstly, I couldn't believe that I had my
hand around Rhys' cock. It filled my hand, with plenty of cock to play
with, but surprisingly not much more than my own cock did.

I began to see the situation from above. I had his cock. In my hand. And I
was jerking it. I couldn't tell if it was real. And he was jerking
mine. Unbelievable.

The feeling of an uncut cock was a bit weird, though, as I started to jerk
it up and down. I was fascinated with the way his foreskin travelled back
and forth over his head. I quickly became accustomed to it.

The feeling of my own cock, on the other hand (b'doom tss), was out of this
world. It tingled all over from Rhys' feather touch. His soft hand and
slender fingers wrapped around my tool like they were made for that sole
purpose. He was stroking a steady rhythm, as I was with him. Slowly but
surely, I was feeling the pressure building. The point of no return was
approaching, and faster than it ever had before. It was as if Rhys felt
this, and quickened his pace.

I started to blurt out "Oh, wow, um, Rhys, I'm gonna -" and before I could
finish, I began to erupt. The first jet positively blasted onto Rhys'
stomach. The second, possibly bigger jet, went just above Rhys' cock. The
other emissions dribbled onto the floor.

"Holy shit," I panted.

My pace on Rhys cock had slowed down slightly. He had now shut his eyes,
and looked like he was in a trance. My cum was dribbling down his stomach
and into his pubes. He was beginning to tense up as I saw the very faint
outline of a six pack on him for the first time. That was really hot.

"Oh Harry. I'm close. Yeah. Do it," he almost whispered. "Oh yeah, here it
comes."

I felt his dick pulse in my hand and watched the first glob of thick boycum
erupt from his cock ("ugh!") and onto my stomach. The second jet ("ohhh")
went straight into my pubes, and by the third jet, Rhys had grabbed his
cock back, almost in embarrassment, and shot the rest vertically, with it
falling onto the floor. I immediately scooped up what had landed on me and
felt it in my fingers. "Cool," I said, still coming down from my
euphoria. It was thick, and slippery, but really no different from my own
consistency. Rhys had slowly found his way back to earth, too. I looked
down, and our cocks were in varying stages of deflation.

"I've never cum that much before. Sorry." Rhys was just looking down at our
dicks.

I chuckled. "That was so awesome, don't say sorry." I wiped my hands on my
legs.  "Your cum is real thick."

"Yeah. You cum heaps, too," Rhys acknowledged. "Let me get a towel."

Rhys walked over to his dresser and pulled out an old beach towel. As he
bent over, I got a good look at his butt and a glimpse of his ball sack
from the rear. I made a definite mental of the image.

"Here, get all that cum off," he said. I started to wipe the area Rhys had
blasted onto me, as well as my own cock.

"I can't believe we just jerked each other. That was so awesome." Rhys
couldn't stop smiling as he waited for the towel. And I couldn't stop
looking at his cock, now deflated but still slightly engorged from the
activity. It hung straight down over his balls.

"Yeah," I smiled back once I'd wiped all of Rhys' cum off me. "I guess I
was looking at you when you were changing." I then passed Rhys the towel as
I picked up my undies and slid them back on. He threw me a look with a
smirk. "I knew it!"

I then shot back, while nodding my head to his cock, "well, when I saw that
thing in your undies what else could I have done?"

"I guess I looked at you too," Rhys admitted as he finished wiping and
threw the towel under his bed. "Just our secret though right?" I was still
gawking at his cock as he slid some undies on. Everything seemed to snap
into place, with his cock now pointing left. His bulge just looked
fantastic.

"Oh, I was thinking of telling the whole school actually." My humour had
come back to me surprisingly quickly. Rhys laughed. It was great being
relaxed again.

"You have a big dick. I wish mine was like that," I said in admiration.

Rhys smiled. "But everyone can probably tell as soon as I pop a
boner. Yours is perfect. It's the right size, it looks awesome. Feels
great, too."

There was a pause as I smiled. "You got a big dick, I'd be proud."

Rhys was already cringing. "That all sounded really gay."

I chuckled. "Well, who cares how gay it is, because that was awesome. Plus,
everyone in the school would want to have your dick." I'd got my old
clothes back on by now, and I slumped down onto the mattress that Rhys' mum
had put down for me.

"I guess." Rhys had put on a pair of boxers over his undies as well as an
old shirt, and got into bed. After we shuffled around a bit, and checked
our phones, Rhys clicked off the bedside light.

There was a light pause as Rhys let out a contented sigh. "I've wanted to
do that with someone for a while," Rhys said. "I didn't know whether you'd
be up for it."

"Oh yeah, same," I said. "After that first time we got changed together, I
just wanted to see your thing for real."

After a pause, I smiled. "You know, when you said you'd seen me looking, I
thought you were going to tell everyone I was queer."

Rhys seemed hurt, and the conversation took on a more awkward tone. "You
really think I'd do that?"

I sighed. I didn't mean it to hurt, it was just that I really cared what
people thought of me ... and I didn't want to be bullied.

"Man, I don't know. I'm new here. And all I know is that everyone at school
hates poofters. Everyone laughs about it all the time. If they knew I liked
looking at your dick when you got changed, I'd never hear the end of
it. And the truth is I've fantasised about dick for ages now. Like, girls
are fine, and I guess I get horny over them and all, but right now I jerk
off thinking of dicks. And if anyone knew that, they'd go for me. I'd get
bullied and no-one would like me."

Quietly, Rhys responded, "I guess you're right."

There was a pause before I continued. "I wish we could just say what we
think."

Another pause. Rhys was unsure. "Are we gay? Or, are you gay?"

I honestly didn't know. I guessed I was maybe bi, but I really hadn't
thought on it that much. He'd clearly thought this conversation through and
he was tormented by it. "I dunno. I only ever kissed one girl, and that
was, you know, whatever. But I never even told anyone about me liking guys
either. And you, what we did before, that was fuckin' awesome. I ... well,
I guess I don't know yet."

"Yeah," Rhys said carefully.  "I guess I don't know yet either."

"Don't worry. We got time to find out." I smiled. "I'll tell you what I do
know," I said. "I like jerking off with you."

Rhys did a nose-exhale laugh. "That works for me." Rhys yawned and rolled
over. "I'm glad you got put in my class, Harry."

"Me too." I yawned. "And I'm glad you're shit at FIFA."

Rhys scoffed playfully. "I'll beat your ass at the real thing someday."

I smiled. "I'm sure you will," I said sincerely.

Suddenly struck like a freight train from the day's activities and a
newfound sense of relaxation and contentedness, I went out like a light.


CH 4 – THE ESCALATION


It was a very contented sleep. I'd felt the tiredness of the school term
and the relaxation of the first night of the holidays, both of which made
me pass out in no time. And then there was the pure relief that I'd had
subsequent to Rhys' and my little activity. There was no waking up at 5am,
no middle-of-the-night wee; there was nothing, not even any dreams, to stop
my sleep.

In fact, the both of us were so out to it that Rhys' mum had to come in at
9.30am and wake us up, saying that my Mum would be coming in half an hour.
Rhys and I groggily sat up and smiled at each other, an implicit
recognition and remembrance of the previous night's events.

"Hey," I groaned at Rhys as I arched my back to stretch.

"Hey," he groaned back. Our bladder issues were immediately required to be
addressed, and we both went to separate bathrooms to have a piss.

As we made our way downstairs, we looked on the kitchen table to find Rhys'
mum had made pancakes, so we hungrily began to scoff them down. As we were
eating, Rhys' dad stirred in the living room, put down his newspaper and
came in to tousle Rhys' hair.

"The yeti awakes! Good sleep, boys?"

"Yes thank you, Mr Barrow," I replied. "Like the dead."

Rhys' dad smiled. "Please, Harry, you must call me Richard - enough of
those English manners. Don't Karen's pancakes make a Saturday morning!"

I nodded. "They are really good!"

Rhys' dad looked at me and smiled, then at Rhys. "Are you going to talk at
all today, mate?"

Rhys' brow furrowed as he gulped down his mouthful of breakfast and moaned
at his father. "Daaaad!"

His dad smiled. "Ah, there it is," he said before looked at me again. "Hey
Harry, what's your surname? You look strikingly like someone I know."

"It's Goldman," I replied and anticipated his next question. "My Mum and
Dad are Helen and Ben."

He continued. "Your dad hasn't just come in as director-general of the
Department of Foreign Affairs has he?"

I looked at him quizzically. "Yeah, he has, actually."

Rhys' Dad smiled again as he shook his head in disbelief. "God, Sydney is
just too small. Tell him Richard Barrow wants to have a beer with him."

I watched him with a puzzled look on my face as he went back to the living
room. "Don't leave anything on the table, Rhys, or your mum won't let me
hear the end of it," he called out as he reopened his newspaper. I looked
over at Rhys with confused frown, and he looked back at me with an
expressionless face; he shrugged lightly, and continued eating his
pancakes. He was not a morning person, it seemed.

A little later, we were just cleaning up in the kitchen when the doorbell
went. "I'll get the buzzer, Mum," Rhys called out, as he pressed the button
to open the front gate. Rhys' mum went to open the door, and I immediately
heard my mother's voice.

"Karen Stenowicz!?" she just about yelled.

"Oh my God, Helen Carter? This is unbelievable!" The two women hugged. "It
must have been what, twenty years?"

Rhys and I looked quizzically at each other – again – as we walked
over. I spoke to mum, feeling very weirded out at the situation.

"Hi Mum, this is Rhys," I said almost warily as we approached the front
door, pointing out my friend.

Rhys stuck his hand out and politely said hello. A remarkable achievement,
given he was nowhere near awake.

Mum smiled. "Rhys, your mother and I went to school together before she
went to Perth."

Karen grinned back. "Harry, your mother never told me she was going to
university in England. I think we need a coffee! Come in, Helen!"

Rhys' Dad walked over to the commotion. "You must be Harry's mum," he said,
holding out his hand. "Richard Barrow, lovely to meet you." They shook
hands, and the three of them shuffled through into the kitchen as the
kettle was put on. Rhys and I looked at each other, and sat down on the
couch in the other end of the massive living room to watch some TV.

"That is so weird. How small is the world?" I said. "I thought I was some
random English guy, and our parents all know each other."

"I know right." There was a long pause as we started watching some random
crap, until Rhys eventually started up.

"That was fun last night."

I smiled and looked at him. "Yeah, it sure was. We should do that again
sometime."

Rhys looked at me and grinned. "I'm keen if you are."

"But you can't tell anyone. Like, ever," I said warningly.

Rhys scoffed. "Like I'd ever do that. Plus, I had my hand on your dick
too."

I went red at the thought and looked away towards the TV. "I s'pose you
did," I said sheepishly. That got a smile from Rhys.

Eventually, my mum emerged and said that we'd best be off. I thanked
everyone, said goodbye, and told Rhys I'd chat to him on Facebook. I told
my Mum I'd had a great time, but of course I didn't let on just how great a
time I'd had.

As it turns out, my mum and Karen were best friends at primary school and
into secondary school. When my mum was 15, Karen and her family moved to
Perth. Whilst they kept in contact by phone and mail for a while (including
a view of Karen's family's visits to Sydney), they lost touch when Mum went
to England when she was 21. Despite the fact they'd aged a bit, it was
apparently very easy to spot each other, Mum had said. "We're going to do a
proper chat next week," Mum excitedly announced.

This was ridiculous. Even our parents would be friends. Master Fate had
touched my life again.

When we got into the living room, Dad had just got in from Canberra. "Dad!"
I exclaimed, and ran over to hug him. Liv bundled down the stairs and
greeted him in a similar manner.

"Well, isn't this a grand official welcome!"

Dad then kissed Mum as she was hanging up her keys. "Been out this morning,
then?"

"You won't believe it," Mum started. "Harry stayed the night at a friend's
place, and you'll never guess who his mum is." Liv and I were standing
there observing the conversation.

"Joan Rivers?"

Mum frowned. "She's dead, Ben."

"Kim Kardashian?" He looked at Liv, who grinned back.

"No, you idiot," Mum said in fairly genuine annoyance, "it was Karen
Stenowicz."

Dad's eyebrows went up. "That girl you went to school with? I thought you
hadn't seen her in years!"

Mum nodded and stayed wide-eyed. "And you won't believe who she's married
to."

I chimed in. "Rhys' Dad said his name was Richard Barrow and he wanted to
have a beer with you."

Dad started laughing. "You're joking! This is bloody ridiculous. I've got
to get him on the phone!"

Dad explained that he met Rhys' dad when they were in the youth wing of a
political party together. They used to drink together, party together, and
work on election booths together. That was until Rhys' dad got an
internship at a big investment bank, and Dad got a job working for a
senator in Canberra. They got so busy with their careers, and later their
families, that they hadn't seen each other in years.

I went up to my room to lie down for a while. I looked up at the ceiling,
with my hands behind my head, and went deep in thought.

I just could not believe that I'd flown halfway around the world thinking
I'd be completely stranded, only to find the one boy in the whole city I
had any connection to was not only hot, and into me, but he had fallen
straight into my lap. It was that thought that finalised my belief that
fate was most definitely a thing. How else could this possibly be
explained?

It had to be fate. There was no other possible explanation. I smiled to
myself and thought of what was to come if this really was meant to be.

--

Eventually, over the next few days, the other boys in the group finally
were free and we were all able to catch up. We just did regular kid things
– went to the movies, went to Jake's house (because his parents were
either never there or just didn't care), and we went to the beach (I was
amazed I could just get a train and a bus and get to Bondi in 45 minutes).

About a week after I'd slept at Rhys' house, it was a Tuesday afternoon and
I was bored and stuck at home. I really wanted to have a kick at the park,
but I didn't know who to take. Then, suddenly a lightbulb turned on. I
lived within walking distance of probably the best footballer in the
school, who I had cum on, who had cum on me, and who I yearned to see play
football. How the hell did it take me so long to think of him?

I immediately sent Rhys a text, thinking we could go for a kick around at
the park down the road from my house. `You want to come up to mine for a
kick about?'

He responded pretty quickly. `Yeah, I just gotta finish some stuff with mum
and I'll be up.'

I texted mum, told her what I'd be doing, and asked if Rhys could come in
for a drink and something to eat afterwards. Mum predictably shot back –
`Lucky I cleaned the place up yesterday! Of course darling, but don't take
him through in the garage, it's a nightmare.'

Rhys eventually rocked up at my place, and we headed off to the park. The
premier league was obviously back in full swing, and so our walk to the
park was dominated by discussion of the weekend's results. When we got
there, we were going to start to kick the ball around, but there was a game
of some older kids already going – so we just went over and asked to
join in. Thankfully they were happy to have us.

It wasn't until we were about to start playing that I again realised that I
had never played with Rhys before (football, I mean) – so I really
wanted to do well to impress him.

Once we started, the ball immediately came to me on the left wing. I felt a
defender screaming towards me from my right, so I just tugged the ball back
beyond his lunge, knocked it to the right around his body, then surged
forward past him. A little roar went up from my team, impressed with my
skill; I was pretty impressed myself, as that move hardly ever came off. I
let myself have a little smile, and resultantly, I got overconfident. There
was just one defender between me and the goal, so I tried to do a stepover
and nutmeg him; I only succeeded in half a stepover, before the defender
reached forward and hooked the ball away. At least we got the throw in, I
guess.

When Rhys got the ball for the first time in the centre of the field, it
was like he was on another planet. Time, and I, stood still as he started
to move with the ball at his feet. He just had this grace about how he
played; it was as if the ball was tied to the end of his boot. His balance
was impeccable. And he was quick, too. He would scoot around the other
blokes like it was nothing. He beat one, two, then three in the centre;
surged down the right, beating another; then he darted into the box, faked
a shot, went round the final defender, and chipped it over the `keeper, who
was now helpless on the ground. He put his arms in the air, and everyone on
the field was in disbelief at what they'd seen, not least of whom was me!

Watching him play was just an art form. As I kept watching him as the game
went on, I felt something in my stomach that I hadn't ever felt before. I
was just really happy when I was watching him. It was all I could do to
stop gawking at him and get back into the game.

Eventually, Rhys tired himself out more than anyone else on the field
because it became obvious the tactic from our team had become `give it to
Rhys'. After a great session with these random people (all of whom were
much older than us), the sun was beginning to go down and we were hot and
bothered, so it was time to walk home. Thankfully, there was a cool breeze
coming in from the harbour and in the few minutes it took to get back,
apart from our sweaty clothing, we were reasonably cool. We marched
straight into the kitchen and I produced some cold drinks – which we
happily guzzled down on our way to the couch, and we sat down next to each
other. I turned on the TV, and we slowly got our strength back.

"Where is everyone?" Rhys eventually asked.

"Well, Dad's in Canberra, and Mum's with Liv at a dancing function thing,"
I said. "When do you have to go home?"

"Oh, mum just wanted me back for dinner at 7." Rhys paused. "So it's just
us then?"

"Yeah," I said back, before I turned my head to him, suddenly cottoning
on. "Yeah it is."

"You as horny as I am?" Rhys grabbed himself with a sly smile.

"Fuck yeah, let's get these shorts off!" I said, bucking my hips off the
couch, and pulled my shorts and underpants down in one motion, excitedly
letting the lower half of my body be exposed to the living room. My dick
was hardening quickly, and I grabbed hold of it. As I sat my hips back
down, my cock was almost at full tilt and a couple of quick tugs to get it
as hard as a nail. I looked over at Rhys, who was taken a little by
surprise at my brevity.

He didn't need a second confirmation, though, and had his shorts down in a
flash. He scooted over closer to me, already hard, with his shorts around
his ankles. His cute, lightly-tanned and lightly-haired legs looked great
against the brown leather couch. When he sat back, his big uncut dick was
hard up against his shirt, sticking up like a flagpole. It was only a
second before he had his dick in his hand, starting to jerk. We were both
looking at each other's junk intently, as we both let out sighs of
contentedness.

After a minute or so, Rhys took off his shirt, and kicked off his shorts
and undies; naked except for his socks. He stood up, letting his cock just
out from his slender body majestically. "Harry, stand up, I wanna try
something."

As I stood up, I took my shirt off, and kicked away my shorts and undies,
just as Rhys had done. It was my turn to stand there, hard as can be,
waiting for the next move. It was not one I expected.

Rhys went down on his knees, and put his face at the level of my cock. He
put his hand around it, and gave it a few tugs. I involuntarily let out a
moan and a sigh at the same time; that same feeling of electricity from his
touch ran through my body. I closed my eyes, feeling the bliss that was
Rhys' slow strokes on my cock.

With my eyes closed, I was caught unprepared for what happened next. Rhys
let go of my cock, and in the instant after that, I felt this hot, wet
feeling on my cock, totally unlike anything that I had ever had ever felt
before. I sharply opened my eyes, gasped, and looked down to see that Rhys
was sucking me – his head was bobbing up and down my shaft!

Instinctively, I just groaned "oh, yeah." Rhys seemed to know what he was
doing; he slowly went up and down my now rock-hard shaft, with one hand on
his own cock and the other on my right thigh. I didn't know what to do with
my hands whilst I was watching the show below, so I just put them on my
hips and closed my eyes. "Holy shit, that is so good," was all I could
manage.

Once I reopened my eyes, I couldn't take them off what was happening on my
own cock. It was an awesome feeling, and it was so hot to see Rhys hard at
work. It was all of about a couple of minutes before I felt the familiar
stirring in my loins. Rhys just kept on sucking. I blurted out, "Oh, Rhys,
I'm gonna cum." And with that Rhys sucked all the way to the end of my dick
before pulling off with a slap of his lips on my cock. As he sat back and
continued to slowly jerk himself, I grabbed my shaft, and with a few quick
strokes I moaned loudly and my load of cum erupted right onto the left side
of Rhys' chest. I was so into it, I shot my whole load – three big
ropes, and a few more pulses – all over that spot. "Holy fucking shit,"
I said, "that was fucking incredible." Rhys looked up and smiled as he
slowly jerked his cock. "You wanna do me?"

I grinned. "Yeah, why not." I don't know why I didn't just go straight
down, but for some reason we instead swapped places. As I got on my knees,
Rhys' massive cock was just centimetres from my face. I breathed in his
scent – a sort of musky, slightly sweaty, yet familiar scent you would
just describe as `cock' smell. I wouldn't call it mesmerising, but it was
certainly inviting.

I wrapped my hand around his shaft to get myself reaccustomed to his
size. `This is a big dick,' I thought to myself. `It's thicker than mine,
and it's long. I like it.' It was time to taste it, I decided.

I looked up at Rhys as I closed my mouth around the head of his dick. He
looked down at me, smiling, and put his hand on the back of my head. The
tip of his dick tasted salty. I licked over his slit and felt his foreskin
with my tongue. He let out a moan and a guttural "oh, fuck yes." I pushed
him deeper into my mouth, as far as I could go without gagging, and managed
to get another couple of inches in, just over halfway. I had to be careful
not to scrape my teeth on him as I started to go up and down.

By now Rhys was just uttering breathy "yeah"s as I worked his shaft. I had
very little clue what I was doing, nor where to put my hands, so I figured
I'd feel what his ballsack felt like, and put my other hand on his leg like
he'd done with mine. It must have worked a treat, because as I did so, he
let out a huge moan. I continued feeling his smooth balls noting their
larger size than mine, and his slender leg, as I loved up and down his
dick. He slowly rustled his fingers through my hair as I kept up a
reasonable pace.

It wasn't too long until he started breathing faster. "F... fuck, I'm
close, I'm cumming," he said with a start.

I slopped my mouth off his cock and pulled back, and he immediately grabbed
a hold of his cock and went to town, furiously jerking to the end. He was
so into it that he didn't realise that the first jet of his thick cum went
onto my cheek, and the second one went right on my lips. He put his hand
out in embarrassment, and caught the rest, eventually wiping it on his
undies.

As his cum was on my lips, I thought it only polite to lick them and have a
taste. It was different from mine; this was a salty-sweet taste, and with a
slippery but palatable texture. "Your cum doesn't taste that bad," I said
to Rhys, as I wiped the other glob off my cheek.

"Sorry," Rhys said, "I wasn't looking where it was shooting."

I smiled as I stood up. "It felt pretty cool when you came on my face," I
admitted.

We both had cum on our hands, and bodies, that we probably should have got
off. "Let me go and get some tissues to clean this up."

I loved how comfortable we were to be naked with each other. My softened
but still slightly engorged junk just bobbled around as I went into the
kitchen and grabbed a bunch of tissues.

"You've got a really cute arse," Rhys remarked as I left.

I smiled. "Thanks," was all I could offer in return when I came
back. "Poofter."

We wiped everything up with the tissues, and I went to flush them down the
loo. When I came back in the living room, Rhys had his undies on and was
getting his shorts and shirt on again. He looked over at me and smiled.

"That," he said, "was fucking awesome."

I grinned back as I put my undies on. "Yeah. You give an amazing blowjob,
dude."

"You're not so bad yourself – you must'a seen a few porn vids, huh?"

I smiled slyly. "Maybe. Dick tastes better than I thought it would. I
thought it would be gross."

Rhys agreed. "Yeah. Yours is just awesome."

"We gotta do that again sometime," I said as I smiled.

Rhys nodded in agreement. "Hell yeah we do."

I got Rhys some water while he put his shoes on, and then we said goodbye
and he headed back home. I just flopped back down on the couch and
grinned. I can't believe, that in the space of just over a week, I'd gone
from fantasy, to touching, to having the guy's dick in my mouth. It was
bloody incredible. The afternoon's experienced moved me so much that not an
hour later, I got rock hard at the thought of what we'd done, and had to go
into my room to jerk off and blow another load.


CH 5 – THE EXTENSION


That night, it was time for a Skype call with Charlie. We had caught up
every week while I'd been here. With him being my best friend, I'd told him
all about everything, except of course for my recent exploits with Rhys.

"Charlie!" I said excitedly when he connected. "How are you?"

"Hey, Harry," he said, less than enthused. "I'm alright I suppose."

"Another rainy day or something?" I asked, curious as to the cause of his
glumness.

"Nah it's ... don't worry, it's alright." He forced a smile down the
webcam.

We continued our conversation on the usual subjects – Australia,
England, the football, general mates shenanigans. However, it was clear
that something was troubling him.

"Charlie, are you alright? You seem really glum."

He sighed. "I can't talk about it."

I smiled back at him reassuringly. "Sure you can," I said, "you know I
don't tell anyone what we talk about."

He looked at the camera, and paused. "It's just ... it's embarrassing."

"Hey, I won't make fun of you! You know that, right?"

Charlie sighed again. "You promise you won't tell anyone?"

 "Promise."

"Well ... we're doing swimming in PE at the moment. And, y'know, we all
have to wear speedos. So, near the end of the lesson, I was thinking about
Anna, y'know that girl I told you about, and I ... well, daydreamed a bit,
and I got a boner. Then the teacher told us all to get out, and it wouldn't
go down, and everyone saw that I was hard. They've been laying into me all
week."

I tried to be reassuring. "Well, it's not like you're gay, is it?"

"No," he said. "They were teasing me because they said it was really
small."

I was incensed. "We're bloody 14," I said. "We haven't even grown yet!"

Charlie nodded. "I know." There was a pause. "Is yours big, Harry?"

I was taken aback by the question, but composed myself to answer. "Uh, I
guess it's pretty average."

"How big is that?"

"Um, well, just over 5 inches." I replied honestly. "I don't know if that's
big or small, really." But I know someone that definitiely has a big one, I
thought.

Charlie paused. "Mine's right on 4."

"Charlie, that's fine! It's not like you're fat and it's all covered up!" I
felt really defensive of him.

He sighed. "Look, this is a bit weird, but you have a look and tell me
totally honestly what you think?"

I gulped. Charlie was my best friend and I thought of him like a brother; I
didn't know if looking at his dick would ruin that. Then again, I'd also
always secretly wanted to have a look. "Yeah, go on then."

He stood up so that all that was in shot was a few inches above the
waistline of his shorts down to just above his knees. He dropped his shorts
to reveal a set of rather tight yellow briefs, with a nice little bulge
visible. He then didn't wait before lowering those undies and showing me
his now semi-hard, uncut penis. I reserved judgment until it ballooned into
full size.

It was short, sure, and it was a little thin, but it was perfectly
straight. He had quite a bush of pubes above it, which to the naked eye
certainly made it look smaller. He definitely had a plump ball sack. He
turned around, showed me the side view, then sat down. Whilst it wasn't a
monster, it was a perfectly adequate boy's dick. It was so adequate, that
it'd given me a boner.

"Charlie," I said honestly, "it's perfectly fine."

"Is it?" He asked worriedly.

"It'll be the first one Anna's seen, anyway," I said wryly. "Plus, let me
guess. There's some jock with a massive package laying into you, and the
rest just follow along?"

Charlie looked at me quizzically. "Pretty much, yeah. How'd you know?"

I smiled. "Elementary, my dear Watson. I used my powers of
deduction. They're all probably a similar size to you, they're jealous of
his, so they make fun of you to pump themselves up."

He looked away. "Huh. Maybe you're right."

I smiled. "Maybe I am."

"Thanks Harry. Obviously, you can't tell anyone about this."

I made a zipping motion across my lips. "Not a word," I said, and promptly
changed the subject to something lighter and happier. The mental image of
Charlie's cock was, however, stored firmly to the front of my brain.

"Do ... do you want to see mine?" I asked, after a while.

Charlie frowned. "No I bloody well don't, you dirty flasher!"

I smiled. "Hey, I was only offering."

Charlie finally smiled back. "Thanks, Harry. But it's alright."

Once we'd signed off, I thought of the mental image of Charlie's dick. It
just didn't do anything for me. I wasn't turned on at all. But the thought
of Charlie's dick rapidly made me think of Rhys' dick. And that turned me
on something chronic, but having already cum twice in an afternoon, I
didn't have the wherewithal to go again.

My mind wondered why Rhys turned me on and Charlie didn't. Maybe I didn't
like boys, I just liked Rhys. Maybe it was the novelty value of Rhys'
massive cock and footballer's body. All I knew was that nothing was settled
in my mind.

---

The next morning, Rhys sent me a text. Wanna come for a swim? Mum's going
out with Tam soon.

I immediately asked Mum, and I relayed her conditions of agreement on to
him. Yeah! I just gotta tidy up my room and help Mum with the washing, and
I'm there.

Once the chores were complete, in a rush, I couldn't find my boardies. I
felt around the bottom of my backpack and felt something silky, and assumed
it to be them. I hurriedly stashed some dry undies and a towel in, zipped
it up, and practically ran out the door and down to Rhys' place.

I arrived in record time to the playful smile of Rhys behind the
gate. "Open up, you prick," I said, "it's bloody hot out here!"

He was already in his boardies and had taken his shirt off in preparation
for entry into the pool. "Hurry up and get your cozzie on!" He said as he
opened the gate and I rushed through.

"My what?"

"Cozzie, you bloody pom, your swimming gear!"

"Keep your hair on," I said as I put my backpack down on the kitchen bench,
kicked off my thongs, and dropped my shorts then and there, facing the
bench as I rifled through my bag for my boardies. My t-shirt ended about
half-way down my arse, showing just enough of my ample cheeks to get Rhys
interested.

"Nice butt."

I turned my head around, hands still in my backpack. "Poof," I said with a
smile, before turning back to my backpack. Rhys just snorted.

After another moment of shuffling in my bag, I exasperatedly exclaimed "I
can't find my bloody board shorts."

Rhys smirked. "Just swim in your undies."

I turned to face him. "If I do, then you have to as well."

He undid the cord and ripped off his boardies. "Fair's fair," he then said,
as my eyes gravitated to his bulge. These must have been new ones –
American Eagle, blue and green striped. Regardless of the colour, his
glorious cock and plump balls were once again outlined to perfection. It
made me feel like my green Bonds briefs were a bit substandard.

I smiled, pulled off my shirt and looked at him again. "If you like my arse
you're gonna have to catch it!" I darted around him, opened the pool gate
and did a bomb dive into the pool.

As I surfaced, Rhys dived in straight towards me, and as he was going past,
grabbed my left butt cheek. "Hey!" I yelled, and turned around as he
surfaced away from me. Then began the afternoon's game of
grab-bits-of-the-other person.

At one point in the melee, I pulled the front of Rhys' undies down and
grabbed his dick underwater. He pushed me away, playfully, and put his cock
away. It already felt half-hard, and I'm pretty sure that put it up to full
mast. Just feeling his cock sent me up to full bone, and that's where I
stayed for just about the entirety of the swim.

Once we'd expended some energy, I said that I was buggered and had to get
out. I was rock hard, and so getting out of the pool, my undies clung to me
and accentuated my boner. "Nice dick," Rhys remarked, as he made his way to
the steps. I grabbed a towel and started drying myself.

As he got out, his cock was jutting out so much, it was pushing his
waistband off his hips. As he started drying himself, I dropped my towel,
walked over, and gave it a squeeze through his underpants. He let out a
sigh and did the same to me. He eventually managed, "we'd better take this
inside before the neighbours start watching." I threw my towel on a chair
and bundled inside, with Rhys right behind me.

As I was walking through the door into his room, I felt his cock pressing
into my crack – despite the fact that we both still had our underpants
on. Even though it felt cool, I jumped forward in mock repulsion. Rhys then
smacked my right arse cheek, and said "get them off."

I turned around, whipped my undies off over my rock hard boner (which
bobbled), and threw my undies at Rhys' face. "Get yours off too then!"

I watched, again in awe, as Rhys slid his wet boxer briefs over his rock
hard dick, which bounced up immediately after he removed them. He gave it a
couple of tugs, which seemed to bring me back to earth. I decided it was
play time. "Can't touch this unless you catch me," I said, darting out of
his room and down the stairs.

He ran after me, chasing me through the kitchen and lounge room, with our
hard dicks and bobbing around. I changed course, heading back up the stairs
– he pushed me down onto his bed, face down, and grabbed my arse
cheeks. "Gotcha!"

I savoured Rhys' massaging of my cheeks. "Mmm, that's nice," I managed,
with my head turned to the side. Rhys continued to squeeze and massage my
butt. Luckily my hard dick was pointing upward, and wasn't causing me any
discomfort.

"You ever finger yourself?" Rhys asked, almost out of the blue.

"I tried a few times, but it hurt."

"Man, you're missing out. Put your ass in the air and let me try, then."

I dutifully responded, and lifted my butt in the air. "I hope it's not
gross," I offered. Butt experimentation was not something I was familiar
with, and I'd never had anything in my arse before.

Rhys was greeted with my pink pucker, which was only adorned with a couple
of young pubes. I heard the smack of Rhys' finger exiting his mouth and
then felt his warm touch on my butthole. I immediately clenched, surprised
by the feeling, and let out a little "ooh".

Rhys slowly started putting his finger in, which sent shockwaves through my
body. It didn't even hurt one bit, and my cock positively jumped. I
immediately grabbed it and started to slowly stroke it as Rhys put his
finger in all the way. "Oh, hell yeah," I managed, as Rhys began to slowly
move his finger in and out.

After maybe 30 seconds to a minute, I felt Rhys move his face closer to my
hole, and I thought I felt him sniff. "Dude, did you just sniff my
butthole?" He slowly pulled his finger out, and proceeded to sniff that as
well.

"Doesn't smell that bad," he remarked, "I guess cause we've been in the
pool."

"So it's not gross?"

"Kinda hot, actually. It doesn't smell like poo."

"Do something else, quick," I said, "I'm so fucking horny here."

"I'm gonna try something I haven't done before."

I had no idea what he was going to do, so I responded. "Oh? Don't try to
fuck me you'll split me in-"

Before I could finish, I felt Rhys' hands go on both my cheeks, lightly
spreading them. What stopped my speech completely was a warm, wet feeling I
got from something moving over my hole. Rhys was eating me out! It felt so
incredibly sexy that I stopped rubbing myself and moved my hands out to
brace.

"Fuuuuuck!" I managed.

Rhys stopped. "You alright?"

"Fucking hell just keep going!" I said. Rhys didn't need a second
invitation.

To compound the fairly sloppy rimjob I was receiving, Rhys proceeded to
grab my cock and start wanking it, while tonguing my hole.

"Fuck yes! Oh god!" I was in heaven. I could probably have passed out from
the ecstasy.

I was now panting and moaning, as Rhys was getting more confident with his
tongue. For several minutes I was in heaven, making sounds I'm not sure
I've made before. I didn't know what I was feeling, it was just a sensory
overload. It was not long before I was ready to explode. "Shit, Rhys, I'm
– I'm gonna cum," I said breathlessly.

"Oh shit, my doona!" Rhys said, letting go of my cock and jumping off the
bed.

I was in too much of a trance to stop now. Staying in my position with my
arse in the air, I furiously began jerking my cock, moaning and getting
louder as my orgasm fast approached. Rhys managed to throw his damp undies
under my cock, as I loudly grunted and blasted a huge load right into
them. It wasn't until I came down from my ecstatic high that I looked down
and saw my pool of cum in Rhys's undies. It was a pretty hot sight, and I
smiled.

"Jesus fucking Christ, that was fucking incredible," I exhaled as I rolled
on my back. Rhys was standing there as hard as a nail.

"You're tasty," Rhys smiled, slowly jerking his cock. "And that really
turned me on."

"I can't get up," I said as I gathered my breath, "come here and I'll help
you out." I sat up on the bed, propped up by Rhys' pillows. Rhys smirked
and knew what to do.

He hopped onto the bed, moved his cummy undies to one side, and kneeled
over my torso. It presented his cock almost perfectly at mouth level, and I
took it into my mouth gleefully.

As I licked his cock head, he threw his head back in ecstasy and moaned
loudly. I started bobbing back and forth, feeling his tight torso and
running my hands over his developing abs. I kept sucking, and moved my hand
to cup his balls, which caused another moan of pleasure to escape his
mouth. I then slid my finger into his crack, searching out his pucker. I
knew I'd found it because he just about shrieked.

"F- Fuck yeah, mmmh, oh God Harry," Rhys managed. I moved my finger over
his hole, which after I'd done that a few times and in a few minutes, it
started to send him over the edge.

"Oh Harry, look out, I'm – quick – " I didn't know what to do, apart
from get his cock out of my mouth. Rhys' eyes were closed, and his dick was
in close proximity to my face. I then knew what was about to happen, and
firmly shut my eyes and mouth.

With a big grunt, the first jet of thick cum shot out of Rhys' cock onto my
cheek and dribbled down. The next one got me on my eyelid, and dribbled
down the side of my nose; the next on my forehead, and the final one on my
lips. Rhys was positively panting, as the last few waves dribbled out of
his cock and onto my chest. He looked down at me as I looked up at him.

"Thanks for that," I said meekly, as I wiped his cum from under my
eye. That at least allowed me to open my eyes.

"Shit, sorry dude," he replied, "let me get a towel."

Rhys stepped off me and got the same towel we'd used to mop up after our
first experience. I wiped everything off, and chucked the towel to Rhys,
who mopped my cum out of his undies.

"I guess we'd better get some dry clothes on," I remarked. "Let me go down
and get my bag."

As I came back up the stairs, Rhys was already putting dry underpants
on. He looked at me and smiled.

"That was fucking fun," he said.

"I can't believe you licked my butthole!" I exclaimed, putting fresh undies
on.

"Well, I saw it in a porn video. I figured, we'd been in the pool, so it
wouldn't taste disgusting."

"It felt pretty cool," I admitted.

We eventually put our clothes back on, and settled down to watch some TV. I
was so buggered from our pool hijinks, and I was so relaxed after such a
mammoth orgasm, that I actually fell asleep on Rhys' couch; as it turned
out, Rhys did too.

It wasn't until Rhys' mum came home and saw us on the couch to wake
us. "Big afternoon, hey boys?"

I groggily sat up. "Oh, sorry Karen, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

She laughed. "Not at all, darling. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

I looked at my phone – it was nearly dinner time and I was due home. "No
thank you, I have to get home actually." I grabbed my stuff, and Rhys saw
me out to the gate.

"That was so fun," he said. "We gotta do that again."

I smiled as I started to walk home. "For sure!" I called back.

I didn't really fancy licking someone's butthole, but I played along
anyway.  Maybe it could be fun. In fact, as I walked home and replayed the
afternoon's events in my mind, I got myself horny again, and walked through
the front door having to conceal a raging hardon.