Story  Four (B).           A LIFE IN THE CLOSET  by  AARON THE AUSSIE.

 

If you are under 18 you should NOT be here, so DO NOT read on.  Just EXIT NOW.

 

"A Life in the Closet" is total fiction, but it is very largely based on my life experiences, so quite a lot of it is an attempt at recording in a slightly changed way, some of the significant events in my life.  And of course, names etc. have been changed.

 

Each Story that I have written, ( and I have used that word rather than the word Chapter ) can be read quite independently of all the others, because each is a complete, stand-alone story.  Some are longer than others and some have less or even minimal, if any sex.  But, the basic Gay – Boy Lover theme is there in each story. 

 

However, they are all written from my point of view and I have tried to keep them basically in an order of chronology.  So, they can be read in number order giving, an overview and flow to a significant number of the things that have happened to me over the years.

 

The Story below, relates to my experiences with sport and P.E. during Year 7 and then right through High School.  In those days it was a  "Boys" High School, ( although it became Co-educational, but not until after my time )  I was 12 during most of my first year there – Year 7. I was not great at Sport and that did not help at all.  Being good at it was a definite advantage. 

 

I have tried to make each story interesting and as sexy as possible, whilst keeping them all as REAL as I could, particularly as regards things like; the language used, the ages of those involved, the time period relevant to that particular story and the prevailing attitudes of the community at the time.

 

For convenience, all of my Stories have been placed in a single Directory in the: Gay, Adult / Youth Category. 

"Young Friends", "High School" and "Camping" are really all relevant categories for this particular Story.       

 

All of my Stories are completed and I don't plan to make any changes to them, but I would still very much appreciate and be interested in your comments and feedback. In fact, most Nifty Authors crave positive feedback.

 

Please email me at:  aarontheaussie@bigpond.com

 

So... Here goes I hope you find this story OK.

 

Aaron.

 

HIGH SCHOOL – A GREAT SPORTSMAN ( NOT !!! )

 

"God you're hopeless Son, I said catch the ball and pass it. Three times now out of three, you've dropped a simple catch" yelled the PE Teacher.

 

I was nearly in tears as I turned yet again to pick up the ball. It was a simple catching and passing game with everyone in a large circle, using a basketball and I certainly wasn't dropping it on purpose.

 

The class had started with calisthenics – that was OK, followed by 2 laps of the oval – got there but nearly dead last, then we had pushups – just couldn't do them, absolutely useless. Now we're playing this stupid ball game. What next? Probably a quick game of tackle!!

 

The PE and Sports Master Mr. Hughes seemed quite nice, understanding and helpful. This bloke, Mr. Spencer the other PE teacher was a real macho man with little tolerance for anyone who couldn't perform at the standard he demanded and I was by no means the only kid in trouble. I just wished we might have had Mr. Hughes for PE instead.

 

"OK boys" yelled Mr. Spencer, "Lets finish with a quick game of Tackle"... God, save me please!!

 

But he didn't and I had to endure Mr. Spencer for PE throughout year 7, my first year in High School.

 

He was a big man, really solid and muscular. Your rough, tough, footballer type. But a lot of kids also claimed that he liked to ogle the bigger, more muscular, sports star kids that he really liked, whilst we were in the change rooms.

 

So did I, but as I was as far from being a sports star as it was possible to be, I needed to be discreet and surreptitious, avoiding possible detection by either the other boys or Mr. Spencer.

 

I was quite tall, slim and well matured for my twelve years and because of my prior experiences I kept right on having a rapidly growing and expanding sexual interest in boys.  I continued to look at and assess them all and I allowed my imagination and sexual excitement to run wild whenever I thought about those who appealed to me.

 

I was still very quiet and reserved, but I knew what I liked and I knew that for anyone with a similar sexual interest, my hair, which was still blondish but just starting to darken a little and my looks generally were in my favour.

 

There were a number of boys who turned me on, that I saw regularly in the PE change room, but only one of those whom I felt was in the "hopeless at sport" category, like me.  His name was Paul and I saw him on more than one occasion trying to watch others without being noticed. Personality wise, he was very quiet too and despite sharing several classes, I didn't really know him, but I felt that I would like to. Although not fat, he was oddly shaped and just a little fleshy and I didn't know quite why he appealed to me.

 

What drew us together was our mutual dislike of Mr. Spencer and later in the change room, on the day of the ball dropping comment, while Spencer was arrogantly strutting around amongst the boys, like he owned the place and perhaps doing some of that claimed ogling, Paul wandered over and stood quietly beside me. When he spoke it was just for my ears.

 

"Boy he's really got it in for you now, hasn't he? At least it means he's stopped picking on me just a little bit, so welcome to the club" he said.

 

"Yes" I replied just as quietly, "I've seen him picking on you regularly, but having a go at me isn't new, he's been doing it one way or another ever since the start of the year, so I'm already well and truly in the Club. The problem is that there's nothing much we can do about it"

 

Mr. Spencer was also my English Teacher, but it appeared to me that he did very little teaching. His usual style was to enter the room, direct us to spend the entire period reading some text or other, and brandishing his cane threaten dire consequences if there was any noise. Then he would sit and amuse himself whilst we supposedly worked in silence. The word from those who had suffered the cane at his hand, was that he was more brutal than any other teacher. Fortunately I hadn't been caned, but I was often the subject of his snide and nasty comments – like, "A whole period and that's all you've read !!"...So, I was a slow reader then, so what. I genuinely did my best.

 

"Unfortunately I agree" Paul said, " There's nothing we can do about it... So is it as bad for you on Sports afternoon? What Sports do you do?"

 

"So far I've just been doing the swimming classes" I replied, "It's OK, but a bit embarrassing, because I'm not a strong swimmer and I'm nearly always well behind the rest of the group when we do laps. But, now summer sport is virtually over and I have no idea what I'll do for winter sport".

 

"I'm the same as you" he said, "It's either; Rugby League, Rugby Union or Soccer. There are really few other choices and all we hopeless kids seem to have to do Soccer, because the other codes won't have us".

 

At that moment Mr. Spencer dismissed us and we filed out to head to our next class. "Talk to you later" I said, as we went our separate ways.

 

I joined George, my best friend that year ( See story 4A ) and saw very little more of Paul until Our PE class for the following week, when for the first time, having now talked to him, I suggested that he use the empty change room locker beside mine. After that we were regularly together during PE and we were able to give each other, often much needed moral support.

 

During that football season Paul and I were the worst Soccer players on the field. But to the extent that we could, we kept to the periphery of the action and tried to avoid getting too involved.  It worked well enough, although we often got yelled at for our failures.  In my opinion, and Paul agreed, without the requisite skills to play the game properly and contribute, it was a total waste of the time we might have been devoting to something more constructive and beneficial for us.

 

Towards the end of our School year, as spring was passing and we headed again towards summer, Paul and I managed to register for inclusion together as members of the same swimming class group. For me, the best part of that was time spent in the change room and showers with Paul at the swimming centre, and Paul seemed to feel much the same way.

 

Without being too obvious, I kept a close eye on him and felt sure that I often saw him in a state of at least semi arousal. There were also a number of occasions when I noticed him watching me and I became nearly sure that he might make some kind of move on me or respond well if I made a move.

 

But, time passed and we were never entirely alone together and nothing at all happened. As usual I wasn't game to be the one to initiate anything.  At the same time, I was starting to like Paul more and more and we were becoming much closer and better friends.

 

Following our summer holidays, with Year 8 heralding a new school year, Paul and I found ourselves together again back at the swimming centre. By then we had both turned 13 and we both seemed to have improved greatly as swimmers, to the point where we were starting to actually enjoy the swimming classes and sports afternoon generally. We were both still far from star swimmers, but we were no longer the worst either. Further, I felt that we had become even better friends.

 

Whilst I remained good friends with George, the new school year saw me spending a bit less time with him and more and more with Paul. Our mutual difficulties with Sport remained the major focus of our friendship, but we were now starting to hang out and do a few other things together too.

 

Our greatest excitement came when we discovered that this year we had Mr. Hughes for PE.  No more Spencer...Hoorah !!!   In fact, Spencer was gone all together and there was a new PE teacher in his place.

 

What I had anticipated actually turned out to be the case. That was, that Mr. Hughes was every bit as demanding as Spencer and in fact set an even higher standard. But, he was able to get the best out of everyone by both challenging and encouraging them and as necessary helping instead of just criticizing and yelling, and he certainly didn't "strut" around the place.

 

I was still hopeless at catching a ball, but with Mr. Hughes I didn't feel nearly so bad about it and I actually felt good when praised on the few occasions I actually made a good catch.  Paul was much the same.

 

One day at the end of PE, Paul and I were confronted in the change room by Mr. Hughes.

 

"May I see the 2 of you in my office please, once I have dismissed the rest of the class" he said.

 

Once there, he asked us to sit across from him at his desk and addressing us both he said, "Why do you each think that you both struggle so much with PE and Sport? It's not as if either of you are sickly or puny or under developed in any way".

 

We both stumbled and stammered for an answer. I had no idea and Paul's only suggestion was perhaps some excess weight.

 

"Well I don't agree with that" said Mr. Hughes, "Neither of you have star quality, muscle men type bodies, but Paul you're quite solid and fleshy and you could turn that into good muscle. I wouldn't call it excess weight and Aaron, you're tall with a good lithe physique. No, it's something more, possibly a couple of things.

 

Neither of us could offer anything more so Mr. Hughes went on.

 

"The big thing is self-confidence" he said, "Neither of you seem to have any confidence in your own physical prowess and yet in other areas I hear that you both excel. I don't expect either of you to become champions, but if you think you can achieve something and work at it, very often you just do"

 

He went on, "I hear for example that you have both now become, not brilliant but reasonably good swimmers and that's good. But I would like you both to take on a new sports challenge this year and I accept that neither of you will probably ever be into football type, very physical team sports, so what I have in mind is Tennis and if that proves a success at all, just possibly Cricket next summer season.

 

"Sir" I said, "I'm willing to give anything a go, but I can't even catch a basketball let alone hit a tennis or a cricket ball !!"

 

"That's interesting" he responded, "And you've hit on what I meant when I said `possibly a couple of things'. Paul" he continued, "I know you have glasses, but I've never seen you with them on in PE, Why?"

 

"I don't want them broken, Sir" he replied.

 

"Quite right" he said, "When its physical and you don't need them. But when you do, like when you need to catch a ball or be accurate with what you're doing, you should wear them. So, from now on I expect you to, and let me know if you get any `four eyes' or other nasty comments. I'll deal with them".

 

Turning back to me he said, "Because I see no other reason why you have the trouble you do Aaron, I think you should have your eyes checked out, because you might just need glasses too. In fact I'd just about bet on it".

 

Then Mr. Hughes stood up and looking down he seemed to contemplate us for a moment and then he said, "If I'm right, you can both wear glasses playing Tennis. So your first job Aaron, is to get yourself checked out and fitted up with glasses if necessary. Then" he continued, "I would like you both to consider signing up to attend a Tennis Coaching Camp during the next Term Holidays. You're away for about 6 days and you sleep in a bunk house with all meals provided".

 

Noting our stunned reaction, he walked to the door.

 

"Come back here this afternoon before going home and I'll give you each a brochure on it" he added, "Then next week at PE you can tell me what you think,  OK?"

 

We both agreed as he ushered us out of his office.

 

"Now as opposed to the Spencer approach, that's what I call being a good Teacher" said Paul as we set off for our next class, "What do you think?"

 

"I'm a bit worried about the reaction at home to the cost" I said, "Like, pay for the eye test, get the glasses if necessary, buy a tennis racquet and then spend more on a coaching camp, especially if the money is wasted because it turns out I'm no good anyway.  But, I do have to admit it all sounds great"

 

"Doing the Coaching Camp together could be fantastic" said Paul "although it's a bit scary. I'm not at all sure I'll be any good at tennis either"

 

"That's right" I replied, "But like he said, we'll just have to be confident and positive and see what happens".

 

As it turned out, Mr. Hughes had been right. I did need glasses and they substantially improved my sight. In fact the first time I wore them at PE I caught a smaller sized ball 4 out of 5 times and I saw Mr. Hughes smiling broadly.  Neither Paul or I had any adverse `4 eyes' type smart comments from other kids and in fact I thought my heavy looking dark framed glasses made me look quite dignified.

 

We had both obtained parent permission to attend the Tennis Camp, had applied and had been accepted. We were both really excited and I discovered that this would be Paul's first camping type experience. 

 

Being a Scout, I was by now an old hand at camping and as I explained to Paul, sleeping in bunk rooms and having your meals served up to you was hardly what I would call real camping. But, that didn't affect our enthusiasm. It was all about learning to play Tennis, not about camping.

 

On the final sports day of the first term, as the swimming centre was fairly close to his house, Paul asked, ( given my vast experience and expertise - ha, ha!! ) If I could go home via his place to check out the kit he had all set out ready for the camp, and help him to pack it.

 

At the end of swimming we showered before putting our school uniforms back on and as was still often the case I felt Paul's eyes on me and it seemed to me that he was a little more than normally frisky.

 

Paul let us into the house and I followed him to his room.

 

"Your Mums not home then?" I said.

 

"No" he replied, "She won't be home for ages yet".

 

It was a small room with twin beds. One was covered in the gear he had laid out to take to the camp, presumably the other was his bed.  He said he had to get out of his school uniform and proceeded to do so. As he undressed he explained that his older brother had now left home, but that there had been a time when they were required to share the room. Meanwhile, I started to check out his stuff for the camp, as I had been asked.

 

He had quite a good backpack and his sleeping bag seemed of reasonable quality, but it was carefully folded and tied up, parcel style. I untied it and turned unfolding it, intending to lay it out loosely on his bed.

 

As I did, by way of explanation, I commented, "Its best to place this loosely in your backpack to fill odd corners and empty spots so that it doesn't waste a lot of space" then I added with a smirk, Didn't that occur to you, goose features?" and I giggled.

 

He was standing at the end of his bed in nothing but his briefs, holding some casual shorts to put on. His reaction was to drop them and launch himself at me.

 

"Careful who your calling Goose Features, Dick Head!!" he yelled, and we landed together on the bed in a tangle of legs arms and the sleeping bag and proceeded to kind of, wrestle around while we both laughed without constraint.

 

I felt his arousal as our bodies kept connecting and I grabbed and held his cock through his briefs. Then letting go, I breached the waistband of his briefs and grabbed the real thing

 

"You're the one showing off his big, dick head" I laughed.

 

He stopped struggling and kind of froze. Then he quietly lay back where he was, looking intently into my eyes. I just kept holding on and stared back, as I settled beside him on my side, propping my head with my other arm and hand.

 

"At last!" he breathed, "I've been waiting for you to make a move for so long" and he heaved himself up nearly into a sitting position, enough to lower his briefs adding, "Don't let go" and kicking them off as he fell back again.

 

I began to pump and he responded immediately by repeatedly thrusting his whole midsection up into my fist "I take it that you like this then" I said quietly, "So why haven't you made a move on me?"

 

"If only I had been game" he said, "I was tempted but not totally sure, so I just didn't have the guts".

 

"I was exactly the same" I said.

 

"I'm getting close" he said as I continued to pump, "Would you be revolted if I asked you to,... sort of,...you Know,... suck it for me!!   I'll warn you before... I kinda squirt" he added.

 

It was a fairly thick weapon for a 13 year old, not super long, but long enough with a bulbous head and virtually no foreskin. I loved its feel and texture and once it was in my mouth I was in heaven exploring it minutely with my tongue.

 

But It wasn't for long. "Quick, Take it out, take it out, I'm gonna cum" Paul squealed, as he tried to pull away. But, I held him firmly and was able to take every drop of his offering. Once it was over, I thoroughly and carefully cleaned him up before letting it drop from my mouth. Only then did he release all his tension and let his body relax and wilt.

 

"Your still fully dressed" he said, "I was kinda hoping to see yours and suck it too. But I've never done it, whereas you obviously have. What do you think?"

 

"You won't know if you like it, unless you try it" I said, standing to undress.

 

"I'm sure I'll like it, I've been dreaming about it for long enough" he said, "But, you'll be my first, so I just hope I'll do it ok".

 

"Just relax and enjoy it" I encouraged, "Just watch your teeth, that's all".

 

He did quite a reasonable job and although on that first occasion for him, he didn't take my load, he allowed it to cover just about all of his entire face.

 

Having cleaned ourselves up and dressed we returned to the task of checking his gear and packing it. Once we were finished he asked if I thought opportunities might arise while we were on the camp to do more intimate stuff.

 

"Who knows" I said, "Depends on the program, what the Centre is like and the opportunities we can create".

 

"You mean, how game we are, or how desperate!!" he replied, laughing.

 

In fact, the Tennis Centre was called "The Gully" and going there didn't feel remotely like going camping as it was right in the middle of suburbia. Conversely, located in a gully as it was, it felt a bit remote from the suburbia surrounding it. There were 4 Lodges, 2 for boys and 2 for girls. Each had accommodation for 6 participants plus its own toilets and showers and a separate sleeping room for a supervising Adult Coach.  The program was full on as the courts had lights and the day time coaching continued each evening after dinner for a further 2 hours until about 9.00 when we got supper. This meant that the period between about 9.15 and lights out at 10.30 was about the extent of our free time

 

A narrow strip of bush at the very back of the Tennis complex denoted the bottom of the Gully and it was on the verge of that bush on our first night that Paul and I found what appeared to be an old unused shed that was not locked. It became our first sex session venue. Later we also found a very comfortable little space in behind the grandstand, which seemed rarely frequented and was better.

 

Initially I got the distinct impression that Paul was now attending the camp with much more enthusiasm about the prospect that opportunities for sex fun could be found, than any real interest in learning to be a good Tennis player. We were both at an age when our sexual interest seemed to be in overdrive and Paul was becoming quite obsessed.

 

On that first night having found the shed, we were still a bit nervous and did no more than jack each other off. But, even that felt great.

 

The second night having had our hot chocolate for supper, we were anxious to get to our shed, so took our jam and cream covered scones, with us when we snuck off. Paul ended up with cream all over his face and a big dollop on his nose. I confess that I put most of it there on purpose. But, I needed to so that I could then carefully lick it all off and attempt to feed it into his mouth with my tongue.

 

The result was an intensive kissing session and whilst that continued, we both managed to hump each other to an explosive climax whilst we were still fully dressed. It was very messy, but Paul really liked his first experience with serious kissing like that.

 

We decided we would try to get naked the next night and recalling the fun of the night before, during the evening meal, I quietly slipped a small plastic squeeze bottle of honey into my pants pocket without being seen by anyone, not even Paul.

 

The little alcove at the back of the grandstand was quite dark, but we could see enough and we both stripped right off and lay down together.  My first foray with the honey took him by total surprise when I squirted it all over his groin and then used my hand to spread it. First poor Paul had to suck my hand clean and then of course I had to suck all the honey from his groin and genitals. In the process I took him to a fantastic climax and I found his honey flavoured load very tasty.

 

He swore to get me back and was finally able to wrest the honey from me to return the favour. But instead of spreading it like I did, he just daintily squeezed a line of honey along the length of my straining member. That night for the first time, Paul took and swallowed my entire load when I exploded and he seemed to like it's flavour a lot.

 

Despite our best efforts at licking each other clean, we still ended up in a sticky mess and we spent a lot of time together that night under the shower.

 

The other 4 boys in our cabin were nice and for the duration of the camp we became good friends. They were all our age or a little older, but there was no sexual liaison with any of them at any stage.  We both enjoyed checking them out whenever we could and I believed I could hear a good bit of jacking off type activity each night after lights out. But, that was about all.  All of the kids in the other boys Lodge were younger.     

 

The pace and intensity of the tennis training was fairly exhausting, but there was clear improvement in both of our abilities as players and as we seemed to get better and better as the days passed, Paul's enthusiasm for the tennis grew and his priorities tended to change.

 

That is not to say by any means that he lost interest in what we did each night in our alcove behind the grandstand. We certainly maintained that and by the last night of the camp had progressed to some 69 type action. A couple of further opportunities had also arisen when nobody else was around to shower together and help each other out whilst doing so.

 

But, Paul had discovered a serious passion for tennis and the camp was no longer just about sex.  

 

By about day 4 I had also decided that I really liked Tennis too and that I was somewhere between a reasonable player and at times a fairly good one.  My biggest difficulty however was that Paul and I were fairly constantly paired together, but as it turned out, I wasn't anywhere near in his league. He proved to be a superb natural, close to, if not the best new player on the camp.

 

It was fantastic for his self-confidence and although secretly I was a little jealous, I was very careful not to show that I was, as in fact I was actually in quite some awe of him and I made a point of giving him as much deserved praise as I possibly could.

 

Mr. Hughes advised us that he had a superb report from the Tennis Centre on us both and that having us attend the coaching camp had been a triumph.

 

We both selected Tennis that year as our winter sport. ( thank god – no more soccer ) I played to win each match I could in the school league and enjoyed the challenge. Paul was good enough to be selected to represent us in the inter-schools tennis championships and did well.

 

I visited Paul's house on a couple of further occasions, early in the season after tennis on sports afternoons and we both enjoyed some sex fun together. The fun was just as good as ever, but the nature of our relationship had changed in a subtle and intangible way and I sensed that whilst we would remain friends, our paths would diverge as Paul became more involved with new friends who were at his level as contemporaries in tennis, which was going to remain his serious passion.

 

Since Tennis was a year around sport at our school, as was expected, at the end of the winter season Paul opted to keep on playing tennis and he continued to achieve and was becoming something of a star at it.

 

I had done well enough playing in the school league and in the future would always enjoy my tennis, to the extent that I might have also opted to continue with it during the summer season, rather than returning to swimming.

 

However, Mr. Hughes wanted me to try out for Cricket. I was again skeptical but, discovered that it grew on me and I was good at it.  Again I was never a super star, but seemed to work well as part of a team and I was able to contribute positively.  I was primarily a spin bowler, but batted quite well and was good at times in the field.

 

During the second half of the Cricket season, on our return to school for year 9, I turned 14 and for the first time I had a place for the remainder of that season at number 8 in a school under 15 Grade Cricket Team.

 

Being my first season, I was very happy with my performance. My best result as a bowler was 4 wickets during one innings. I took 3 good catches in the field during one match and my best batting performance was a score of 27 runs. I was "not out" at the end of a couple of innings and I was only out "for a Duck" twice.

 

My Sports performance like everything else generally, took a dive during Year 10. ( see Stories 5 and 6 ) But the pattern was set and for the rest of my time at school, right through to Year 12. I played Cricket in summer and Tennis in winter and enjoyed both. I believe that I was good at both, but never great at either. As a sportsman, I felt that becoming the Captain of my Cricket Team in Year 12 was my best accomplishment.

 

Given how badly I started out, I always considered Mr. Hughes one of my greatest hero's at school.  The fact that I eventually did as well as I did at Sport, also did wonders for my relationship with my Dad, who told me years on, that he was more pleased with me than I ever knew.

 

Paul and I did stay firm friends but our intimacy was over, as was the real closeness we had been developing. Essentially our friendship had evolved from our early problems with sport and it had always mainly revolved around our participation in sport together. Regrettably, that was now happening less and we had few other common interests.  

 

During Year 9 the major new friendship I developed was not even at school. But then that leads us on to Story 5.

 

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