Date: Tue, 3 Sep 2013 17:06:58 +0100
From: Nick Wyatt <nickwyatt42@gmail.com>
Subject: It Was All Shakespeare's Fault, Part Four - Trans

It Was All Shakespeare's Fault, Part Four

Standard disclaimer. None of the characters or events depicted here are
based on real people or situations. The author will not accept any claims
or suits based on the recognition or identification of any character or
events howsoever portrayed. So ner nerney ner ner.


In Adrian's bedroom we shared his last Consulate Menthol cigarette, which
we stubbed out and then flicked into next door's garden. We lay on our
backs on his single bed and stared at the ceiling, just listening to the
Beethoven String Quartet on the tinny speakers balanced on his desk. And
that's when I kissed him. That was my first overtly homosexual act. All my
confusion, all my fear of rejection, all my social dislocation, all my
self-doubt was bundled in that moment, in that kiss on his smooth and
pretty cheek.

Adrian gave a brief hesitation before he rolled towards me on his bed,
looked carefully into my eyes and kissed me properly. Now we opened mouths
and our tongues wrestled deliciously. I held him tightly in my arms and ran
my hands down his back onto his buttocks. I pulled him tight towards me and
opened my legs as I rolled onto my back; suddenly I could feel his penis
through his clothes against mine.

God, was that what it was like? His member rubbed alongside mine and I
yearned for contact and knowledge: I wanted to know all about him. Adrian,
still kissing, thrust against me powerfully and I felt the hard rod of his
penis roughly butting against me. He was as sexually excited as I was. Now
would be the right time.

I sort of rolled him off me and lay him down on the bed so I could get a
hand to his front. Now I undid his belt, unclipped his trousers, pulled up
his shirt and undid his zip. Plenty of time for him to react; to say `no',
or to push my hand away. But he lay there and he allowed me.

My hands were trembling, I was rigid with excitement. This would be the
first time I had ever touched another boy sexually.

I placed my hand onto his underpants and felt the hard ridge of his penis
flat against his stomach, It felt powerful, potent and yet almost
vulnerable hidden away there. I gave it a bit of a rub while I embraced him
once more and he pressed his tongue deep into my mouth. Now I slipped my
fingers under the waistband of his underpants, slid my hand down and
touched his willy. Hot, hard and immensely exciting. My fingers traced the
shaft to his scrotum, then up to the glans. I don't know how long it was,
not terribly long I'm sure, but to me it seemed absolutely enormous.

He was uncircumcised and the beneath the encircling skin, the rim of his
glans felt very precise to my exploring fingers.  Below the corona, I felt
his shaft smooth and soft with skin that just asked to be tugged back and
forth. I did so, and Adrian grunted in enjoyment.

I wrapped my fingers round this lovely warm stick and wanked him gently
while we kissed. The Beethoven was just finishing and Adrian was just
starting.

Adrian was pulling me tighter to him now, and his tongue was pressed firmly
into my mouth. He was more excited than I thought. I lifted my head from
his mouth and glanced over to the bedside table.  The alarm clock read
3.45. Beneath me, Adrian looked up too. "The earliest anyone will be back
is five" he whispered. Plenty of time.

I pushed his trousers down over his left hip, and then over his right. Now
I pressed his underpants down, and he lifted his hips obligingly for me to
push them down to around his knees.

God he was beautiful! His alabaster skin, light brown pubic hair and
rampant cock were so beautiful to me. Looking down, I marvelled at his
pointed penis aimed directly up towards me. I had to do something to disarm
this potent missile.

I kissed him gently on the cheek and just thought for a moment. Would I?
Did I dare? I wasn't sure, and just kept wanking him gently while I
deliberated.

I decided that I'd try it. I really wanted to. I smiled at him rather
nervously and slithered down the bed towards his naked groin. Adrian
watched me do so. Had someone done this before to him, or had he done it to
someone else?

I lifted up his penis and gave it another little wank while I examined it
lustfully. Holding it just a little way up from his stomach, I slid my head
down, opened my mouth and slid his penis between my lips.

Adrian gave a long `ooh' and lay rigid on the bed. Soft and hard, I felt
the skin ride up and down over his glans as I caressed him with my tongue
and lips. In my mouth, he felt much bigger and I wasn't convinced that I
could have pleased a larger cock without catching him with my teeth. I slid
in as much as I could, back and forth, back and forth. Adrian exhaled, but
remained tense.

I sucked and wanked and licked eagerly, lasciviously. This is what I had
long dreamed of.

Adrian was beginning to move with me now, pressing his hips upwards and
thrusting himself towards my mouth. He ran his hand through my hair and
down onto my shoulder, but soon it came back to be placed on the back of my
head forcing me harder onto his penis. My saliva was running everywhere,
and I was afraid I was spoiling it for him, but when I felt his stomach
muscles beginning to tighten beneath my head, I knew I wasn't spoiling it
at all.

His hidden glans was hot within my mouth and I could feel the soft foreskin
running between my lips and tongue. This slight, young, musical boy was
powerful and almost violent in my mouth. His other hand now gripped the
bedcover beside him and he started to make little rhythmic groans as he
entered me. He was going to come any moment. And I willed him to, I wanted
to serve him, to receive from him and be made complete by him.

"God! Yes!"

And as he thrust at me, there was a little extra fluid in my mouth.

"Now!"

A squirt, a moment, and then a bigger squirt into my mouth as Adrian thrust
and pressed into me. His body jerked and flicked with his stomach muscles
going rigid as he pressed my mouth hard onto his penis.  He grunted and
roared wordlessly as he erupted into my mouth; it was slightly sweet and
slightly salty, but there seemed to be gallons of it and I felt a dribble
escape my mouth onto my cheek. It didn't taste like mine.

Three or four more declining squirts and he began to subside, the crisis
over and the moment passing. I swallowed some and spat some into my
hanky. I sat up and cleaned my lips and face carefully before turning to
look at him. He lay supine with one hand turned behind his head. On his
face was an expression of deep personal satisfaction and his eyes were half
closed in pleasured repose.

"Okay?"

"Fabulous.  Just fab." He smiled and gave a sort of wriggle, getting deeper
in the bad covers.  I looked down at his naked groin, his willy was still
fully erect on his hard, white stomach and there was a bead of semen at the
eye of his glans inside the circling foreskin. With the cleanest bit of my
hanky, I carefully wiped it off.

"Come down here" he breathed.

I lay down alongside him and we kissed lightly as I stroked my hand across
his lovely body.  I knew what I wanted and I think he did too. He half
lifted his hip, turning away from me and I slid my hand around onto his
buttock. Lovely muscled, scalloped and entirely hairless bum. My heart was
thumping so hard, I was almost shaking with excitement. I trailed my
fingers down and cupped his buttock in my hand. I didn't know how to go
about this; I knew what I wanted, but couldn't imagine how to achieve it.

Adrian helped me understand by rolling onto his side completely and
hollowing his back towards me. The pretty globes of his flesh pressed
against the front of my school trousers. He reached around behind himself
and tugged the grey fabric. "Take them down."

There it was. An invitation. Slightly surprised, I hesitated for a second
before fumbling with my belt. I was going to satisfy my disgusting lust
with this beautiful boy.

But in those seconds, that "ecstasy of fumbling", Adrian abruptly half sat
up on the bed. Stiff and still for a moment with his eyes open wide in
surprise. There was the slightest creak somewhere else in the house.

He span off the bed, up and running before even managing to pull up his
pants. I remember well his still stiff penis waggling from side to side as
he crossed the bedroom pulling up his clothes. I re-hitched my belt and
leapt up off the bed, looking around desperately for a `safe' or innocent
place to be.

Adrian stuffed most of his shirt back into his trousers and zipped up his
flies, and opened the door quickly. I sat at the desk and crossed my legs
to try and hide my stiff dick.

"I thought you were going to Stella's house." Hard, abrupt almost accusing.

I couldn't see who Adrian was talking to, but I guessed it was his younger
sister. Marion would have been about twelve at the time and although I had
seen her, and she had been pointed out to me, we hadn't actually met. I
heard her footsteps as she climbed to the top stair.

"Did. Stella got a nose bleed and had to go and rest, so I came home." She
sounded fed up.

"Who's in there?" Marion was on the landing now and trying to look passed
Adrian to see who else was in his room.

"None of your business. A friend; called Nick."

"Hello Nick!" She called beyond Adrian's blocking body.

"Hello!" I called back. I stood up carefully and glanced down. My penis had
deflated sufficiently for me to be decent, so I took a couple of steps to
the door and looked over Adrian's shoulder and met the inquisitive eyes of
his little sister.

Small, slim, fair. Not quite blonde like Adrian, and a bit plain.

"What are you two doing?"

"Listening to Beethoven."

"Why?"

"Because! Now go and do your homework" Adrian ordered. She poked out her
tongue and turned across the landing to open another door, presumably to
her bedroom. Adrian closed his bedroom door behind him and leant against
it. He sagged slightly and closed his eyes.

"She's so bloody nosy."

I chuckled. "Better put Beethoven on again!"

"Good point"

Adrian did so and glided in front of me as the opening phrase rasped from
the pathetic speakers. "Now what?" He whispered, standing just inches in
front of me. Now he hummed along with the main theme. He put his hands on
my hips, brushing forward against me and I felt myself starting to erect
again. And just as Adrian's hands began to slide inwards to the fastenings
of my trousers, there was a thump on the door. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

We sprang apart and Adrian's shoulder sagged properly this time. "No! And
go away!"

Awkward pause.

"I think I'd better go."

He nodded glumly. "Probably best."

He brightened quickly "Come round tomorrow. She's got violin until six at
Chasemore's."

"I can't. We're going away for a wedding in Chelmsford."

"What, a wedding on Friday?"

"No, Saturday. But it's an early one, so we are going there straight after
rehearsal on Friday and staying over."

"Next week, then - Monday. She won't be here, she's got a school outing to
Ely or somewhere"

"Okay."

We kissed again, deeply and lusciously. I was still unsatisfied and
desperate for sexual release and I ground against him. But I was sensible
enough to know that it wasn't going to happen there that afternoon. Adrian
came downstairs with me as I left, and I could feel my enlarged penis
swinging from side to side as I descended. It was going to need some
attention.

I often used to get `blue balls', that awful gnawing ache in the testicles
that seems to follow a period of erection without ejaculation. The only
remedy I knew was to achieve release before the ache could set in. Without
a compliant partner (or even with one, if you are disturbed by his rotten
little sister) masturbation as soon as possible was the only solution.

We passed the kitchen and Marion poked her head out "Bye Nick". And she
watched carefully as Adrian opened the door to let me out.



I left Adrian's house and walked towards home, crossing the area of
woodland that divided the newer estate from the old town. This was well
used by dog walkers, but still dense enough to hide yourself in if you
needed to.

I worked my way into the deepest part and found a tiny patch of ferns
between the trees and brambles. I stood and waited, listening for any sound
intently. There was the angry clatter of a jay somewhere away to one side,
and I could hear a blackbird closer to hand, but nothing else.

I got it out. It felt thick, heavy and enormously powerful. I looked around
carefully to make sure I was still alone and slowly flattened a few of the
ferns to lie down on the green carpet.

I listened as carefully as I could; no noise at all. I lay there thinking
to myself "I did it! I sucked him off. I really did it!" I couldn't get the
thought out of my mind. I had taken the enormously exciting step of having
a sexual episode with another boy. Using modern terms, I would have said it
was `empowering', as I was able to comprehend my sexuality and the
privileges it gave me; I was made powerful and daring through it.

So now I wanked, thinking of Adrian. I pushed my trousers down to my knees
and played with myself briefly, before taking my willy determinedly in my
right hand and pulling the ruffled skin back and forth on the shaft. I'm
circumcised of course, and if I lifted my penis up from body, I could see
the deep red glans like a potent, fleshy toadstool in this silent
woodland. I thought of Adrian's willy in my mouth and knew I'd come soon.



When I'm as excited as this, I deliberately try to slow the hand action
down, to really enjoy the orgasm. But this time, I just came fast. I tipped
up onto my left hip as I came to spray the semen away from my body. The
strong jet hit the fern stalks that surrounded me. Another squirt, and
another, lessening in power and dribbling onto the leaf litter. Still lying
on my side, I pulled my already mucky hanky out of my trouser pocket to
wipe my hand and cock. And as I did so, I looked at ground level, between
the upright fern stalks at a pair of shoes less than five yards away.

They were female shoes. Sensible, outdoor walking shoes. And they were
facing me. Above the shoes was a pair of legs disappearing behind the
ferns, and I think I could make out a tweed skirt too.

I froze. What could I do? I'd been caught wanking. In public! What could I
do? I glanced down and started to pull my trousers back up. Struggling to
cover myself, I looked in the direction of the feet again – and they had
gone! She'd gone!

I struggled up to my knees and tucked myself in properly and did up my
trousers while looking about desperately into the surrounding thickets. I
couldn't see anyone; I knew I hadn't imagined it. She'd gone.

What had she seen? Had she realised what I was doing? Was she on her way to
the police now?

I flew out of the wood and hurried home quickly, pausing behind the stable
block to try and compose myself before calling out to Mum and letting
myself in at the kitchen door.



I walked towards school with a tight knot of paralysing fear in my
stomach. At every turn I expected to be confronted by a police car and t be
accused loudly and in public of masturbating – in public. But there was
nothing; no car, no men in blue uniforms anywhere. I felt as though I'd
hardly slept, I was so terrified that my disgusting, homosexual
testosterone overdose would be exposed. At school prayers and assembly I
waited for the Headmaster to announce that he had received a very grave
complaint et cetera, but nothing happened at all. Some of the fear I felt
dissipated, partly replaced by a kind of ridiculous euphoria. Had I got
away with it?

There were no other formalities that day, and the headmaster passed me by
with a pleased and pleasant smile. There had been no evidence placed
against me. Whoever those shoes belonged to had not made a complaint as far
as I was aware. Astonished and astounded, I felt I had been elevated to a
sort of `fire proof' status by whatever gods and deities control sex,
masturbation and overall lewdness. I'd got away with it!



The day was spent largely in dress rehearsal, as we had just one week
before the opening night the following Friday.



I was getting dressed in my underwear in the wardrobe store under the
stage. I'd tried to hide myself away in the corner between the racks of
clothing because I didn't want to expose what I was wearing to everyone. I
only had my school shirt on when Adrian appeared at my side. He didn't kiss
me or hug me or anything because there were other boys in partial view, but
he looked down my front quite carefully and interestedly.

"Didn't know what you'd be wearing under that tent." He spoke quietly and
looked around carefully just in case someone might overhear.

"So I thought you might like these." And he produced a little, flat, white
layer of material which he passed to me as surreptitiously as he could. I
took whatever they were and Adrian ran his hand around my middle, under my
shirt. I loved the feel of his hand on my naked skin, and I gave a little
gasp. The lovely hand slid away and Adrian left unobtrusively. I looked
down to see that I was holding a tiny pair of white bikini briefs. Alone
again now, I glanced about rather nervously before slipping the panties
on. They felt smooth wonderfully and cool. Being low cut, they didn't do
much good in holding my penis and testicles in check, but when I drew on
the girdle over the top, the soft fabric of the panties stopped the bottom
hem of the girdle cutting in so cruelly. In fact, it all felt lovely.

I finished by clipping up my sister's grey stockings (because they weren't
quite so thick and hot), bra, shift and dress before presenting myself to
Mrs Trellis for lacing-up (who had a good fondle of my bottom as he did so)
and then for make-up and wig at the table occupied by Mrs French and her
companion.

"Sit please Wyatt!"

Mrs French started out lightly but strictly efficient as was her wont,
selecting a rather shapeless light brown wig from the box before her. She
fitted it securely to my head, sat back and sort of squinted at me while
turning her head at an angle.

"No. Not really" opined her companion. "Doesn't really suit, does it
Angie?"

Mrs French coughed crossly, and her companion sat up and blushed,

"Sorry." She whispered.

Mrs French bustled up "Let's try the brunette, Wyatt!" And she plonked a
longer length wig in jet black on my head instead.

"Oh, that's better!"

Mrs French brightened. "Yes. Yes, I think so too. Congratulations, Juliet!
You're a natural brunette!" And they both chuckled.

"Now, make-up. Shuffle over to me, please Juliet." This came from Mrs
French's unnamed companion. "Actually no, come round the table and sit over
here so I can reach you more easily."

I did as I was bidden and as Mrs French was called away to discuss
something with Mr Gibson, this lady did my make-up. She looked to be about
the same age as Mrs French, but with darker hair and skin tone, plus almost
`Buddy Holly' type glasses and wavy black hair. She wore a hounds tooth
suit and pale pink blouse fastened at the neck with a sort of clip. I'd
never seen anything like it before; it reminded me of a tie pin or bar, but
for ladies. And it pointed north-south instead of east west. It seemed to
be made of a matt black material with a cluster of bright diamond-like
jewels at the top, I was quite taken with it. I wondered again who exactly
this very pleasant lady was.

Whoever she was, she was the opposite of Mrs French. She chatted away
casually as she applied a light layer of theatrical make-up.

"Let's have slap of pancake here first. What a lovely complexion you have;
you're a lovely looking boy, y'know. Done much acting before?"

"No, Miss. Actually none."

"Well I watched you on Wednesday and I thought you were just super! Keep
still, mascara next. Lovely eyelashes!"

I was completely nonplussed.

"Now we're going to add some rouge – just here, and here – to give
your cheekbones a bit of emphasis. Not that they really need it. Close yer
eyes." Pause, I sat statue still and closed my eyes.

"Now I'm going to be here for the first night and for Saturday night, but
after that, you're going to have to do your own make-up. So look and
learn!" And to emphasise her point she slapped the outside of both my
thighs at once and my knees clapped together. I sat up and paid direct and
specific attention to her.

"That's better! And you'd better try to remember to keep your knees
together when you sit down, young lady. I know it doesn't matter in a dress
this long, but if you ever wear a shorter skirt," and here, she raised one
eyebrow just briefly, "you'll need to." And she smiled the smile of an
accomplice, a friend.

"Now, remember what I'm doing to you and you'll be perfect when you do it
to yourself – your makeup! If you see what I mean." This was getting
both confusing and slightly embarassing.

"Love your figure in the dress, by the way. You're awfully convincing. Got
a girlfriend coming to see you?"

"No. Well, actually I haven't-"

"Well, all the boys will be after you then. And lipstick. Pucker up a bit,
Juliet. Lovely!"

"There. I think you look terrifically attractive. But don't tell her I said
that! Right, I've got to do the next one, I think it's Lady Capulet or
maybe it's the other one. But you and I need a little time together to
perfect your feminine walk and sitting down behaviour, you know what I
mean!" I made to get up from the chair.

"Knees together, and swivel the hips – not the shoulders! Come back and
see me later."

Another completely incomprehensible situation! What had I learned from this
solicitous woman? Was she somehow attached to Mrs (Angela!) French and was
I not supposed to know?



I felt that I was almost at sea in a gender-mixed ocean where you couldn't
quite depend on anything and where anyone could be whoever they wanted. I
wasn't worried or concerned; in fact, I quite liked it.

I left the make-up table and wandered off to find a mirror in the loos.



Goodness gracious me! There was a perfectly beautiful girl smiling back at
me from the mirror! And as I moved, she moved, too. I wiggled and her long,
black, curly hair shimmied about her pretty shoulders. I wiggled my bottom,
and her hips swayed perfectly.

 I tried a line.

"Romeo, Romeo. Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"

"It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!"

Hugh turned the corner behind me and wrapped me in his Romeo arms.

"You look good enough to eat!"

And he gave me a quick kiss

I almost melted when he did that. Oh goodness, how I lusted after him. I
certainly didn't have to invent any affection between our characters; if
Hugh had bidden, I would have submitted eagerly. On stage, anywhere, there
and then.

But he didn't ravish me. Instead, we did our dress rehearsal. And actually,
it wasn't bad at all.



Tell me what you think: nickwyatt42@gmail.com