Date: Mon, 27 Aug 2018 22:18:49 +0100 From: Vintage Speedoboy Subject: Schoolboy lifeguard 2 (Revised) Schoolboy lifeguard chapter two. AKA, The boy in the red bathing suit. Forward. This chapter is a continuation from Chapter one of Schoolboy lifeguard, set during the school holidays of 1939 leading up to the outbreak of the second world war, 13 year old Tom Fullbrick is also a Boy Scout in his school's troop and a newspaper boy who has also begun to work at his local open air swimming pool after gaining his Royal Life Saving Society Bronze Medallion, a prestige award which qualifies him to work as a lifeguard. He is on a quest to save up as much money as possible towards his passage to Australia to live with his uncle and aunt in Melbourne where he'll be safer from the bombing which will surely follow.These are his adventures, This story is entirely a work of fiction set against the backdrop of real locations. PLease enjoy the story and don't forget to send the team at nifty a few bob as after all we are leaving a legacy for the future and don't forget to look in their shop window for that bargain not on the high street or shopping mall. signed Vintagespeedoboy. Chapter two, Last of the summer holiday. After scout camp finished we went back to our lives and once again I was making money hand over fist at the newspaper depot, the holiday caravan park was full with holidaymakers and their families with the camping ground packed right out during the August bank holiday weekend that I was driven with my bike and my rucksack in the Evening news van with two newspaper bags full of newspapers with a large leather purse similar to what bus conductors use to collect all the money. This was the first day of the football season and everyone wanted the classified results football edition. I left one bag at someone's caravan simply owing to the weight of all those newspapers, it wasn't long before I sold out the first bag, collected the second and resumed my round ending up by selling over 300 copies which weren't enough for all the people there that day leaving me with a long ride home with both newspaper bags and money in my rucksack. I really was hungry and called into the seven stars pub ordering pie and peas with half a pint of beer which was one meal I certainly relished which was far better than any chip shop with a price to match which was worth every penny. Despite my age I had a wonderful conversation with their regulars thereby stopping at the pub with a number of copies thereafter on my way to the holiday caravan park. One of the regulars lit up a cigarette and passed it to me which was my first ever cigarette and certainly not the last. Mum gave me a right telling off when she smelled beer and tobacco on my breath ending with. "Listen son, you are trying to save up towards your passage,, boozing and smoking will only see your hard earned money go up in smoke so please-no more fags from now on." I had to admit she was right, we have all seen the newsreels about the Germans bombing cities during the recent Spanish civil war to know what was coming if and when war broke out. On the plus side I had earned half as much again that week as what a school leaver earns working in a factory and went swimming after church the following day. I stayed at the pool all day helping the lifeguards put all the inner tubes and other floating items away which not only earned me a free pass for the rest of the year, I went diving off the top board into the nine foot depth diving area after everyone had left, the pool was so busy that day it was crowded and having a Bronze Medallion also secured me a part time job at the pool as well, I was certainly the apple of the pool superintendent's eye. I worked there from 10 am till 4pm during the week and all day Sundays leaving Saturdays for shopping and chores. There is a building on the opposite side of the pool where the diving boards are situated which is the kiosk, they serve food, ice lollies, frozen jubblies and ice cream and round the back is the store room which also houses the lost property store and the lifeguards staff room which became the scene for many sexual liaisons with the other lifeguards and my first ever sex with a girl. It was in there I had my bottom plowed by the young lifeguards with me reciprocating the service, hardly a day must have passed without shooting off my cock in there. A 17 year old called Anthony had a cock nearly as big as mine and like me he certainly knew how to use it even though he didn't shoot off anything like my volumes of spunk nor could he match me for distance. I think his best shot was about two foot, but it was a 15 year old girl called Vicky who one day fellated me in there at first whilst she loved it whenever I suckled her breasts like a baby. I shagged the pants off her the following day filling her pussy with a huge load of spunk and by christ was she a noisy bitch. She would have the most amazing squirting orgasms like a girl's version of shooting spunk whilst also screaming so loud I was in fear of someone walking in and catching us and it was truly a miracle we never got caught. Luckily I hadn't made her pregnant otherwise there would have been hell to pay which would have definitely seen me up before the juvenile magistrate and birched. I have already seen the aftermath of birching on a boy's bottom which happened to 14 year old Graham who I knew from school who lives in a castle on the outskirts of Cookham. He went straight to the local hospital to be treated by the nurse who found him bleeding into his underpants. She applied soothing ointment knowing that his weals already had a strong solution of brine applied making him scream from the intense stinging pain and bandaged him up. He couldn't hardly walk afterwards or sit down unable to attend school for a week resulting in the headmaster requiring a doctor's report. His mum called at the police station and gave them merry hell for the suffering heaped on her son. I saw him at the pool about a week later when I took him into the store room, he dropped his swimming trunks and what I saw wasn't a pretty sight as whoever birched him literally tore his bottom to pieces, it still troubled him then so I went to the first aid cabinet and put some ointment on his bottom which required me writing an entry into the first aid book. I did give him a good wank before he left the store room after we embraced and passionately kissed and fondled each other keeping my hands away from his bottom when he gave me a big thank you. The superintendent checked the book at the end of the day asking for my account of the incident the following day which I freely recounted. He phoned his mum immediately who drove down in her Rolls Royce, she spoke to her son first but what pleased her the most was that it was now officially recorded in black and white. Now armed with my entry in the first aid book with my statement, the hospital admissions and treatment record with her family doctors report with his photograph, she engaged a solicitor who took legal action against the police which ended up with Graham receiving 20 pounds compensation out of court. This was the only case of its kind I heard about. Graham lived with his mum at Strande Castle on the outskirts of Cookham, built of grey concrete blocks with its gothic arch styled windows and doors topped with battlements with a flagpole flying the Union Jack flag is what's known as a Victorian Folly. Afterwards I became his friend and spent many evenings invited there by his mum. If ever a place looked like it was haunted, that castle certainly looked very eerie, especially in conditions of low light or at night despite being sited in well kept gardens with commanding views of the countryside from the battlements. Everyone would have seen it from about a quarter of a mile away when running around our schools cross country course after crossing Widbrook common having negotiated a single planked wooden bridge crossing a stream which becomes slippery during wet weather resulting in a number of boys falling into the stream to the merriment of other boys. It was during my first sleepover with Graham that I learned about the castle's history when he told me that a woman was found hanged here almost 50 years ago, after hearing that, I felt chills running through my body seriously believing this castle is haunted?. During my first night there with Graham the wind howled eerily around the building which certainly wasn't conducive to a good night's sleep and fearing I may see a ghost?. It was bad enough that the floorboards creaked and there were other noises attributed to the building reacting to changes in temperature. I was woken up by the sound of footsteps during the small hours of the morning and went to investigate seeing an old woman with a long flowing robe ascending the stairs and called out to her when she looked at me with a piercing stare. "Miss, you've forgot to switch the light on, wait there, I'll do it for you as it won't do to have you falling down the stairs." I walked the few yards to turn on the light and returned to find she wasn't there. The following morning we woke up with morning rock hard cocks and gave each other a good wank before walking to the toilets to clean the spunk off ourselves whilst having our morning shit and piss followed by a good wash before dressing for a really well cooked breakfast served by Mrs. Grazebrook, the housekeeper on fine bone china dishes washed down with Harrods English breakfast tea. I had a number of sleepovers with Graham sharing his double bed and yet I never saw any ghosts? or felt like someone was watching me. Is the castle haunted? or was it just the noises made by the castle itself? I would spend the rest of my life asking this very question. 'If there are ghosts? they would undoubtedly have had sex whilst alive and those who haunt peoples homes must respect the wishes of the living in having undisturbed sex.' Friday August 25th was the day a bomb planted by the I R A (Irish republican army) exploded in Coventry city centre killing five and injuring 70 people. It was also the day Germany cut off all the telephone and telegraph wires at its borders and that evening we experienced a run on the newspapers with more being brought in the Evening News van. No sooner had I returned I was handed another newspaper bag, the leather cash bag and told to go with my bike to Hurley stopping at the Seven stars pub, knocking on the door shouting `Papers' through the letterbox before the landlord opened the door and accepted his quota of newspapers then onto the holiday caravan park where I once again sold out and with selling out the following day I was paid a lot of money for my efforts. The final days of August were like any other with my return to school little more than a week away spent working at the pool followed by my newspaper round having amassed a tidy sum of money in my post office account. I rescued a number of smaller boys who drifted into the nine foot that week by diving off the high chair situated on the opposite side to the diving boards mounted in the one foot baby pool sectioned off from deep water by arched railings. Fortunately the older toddlers had their mums with them who prevented them from attempting to climb over the railings even though I always scanned that area as well. Sex that week was little more than giving a few school friends a good wank in the store room with them returning the favour. I now became the focus of attention from a number of girls aged about 12 or 13 who were always close by a lot of the time seeking attention, (possibly from my huge cock). Fortunately the pool superintendent did warn me that this was an occupational hazard of being a lifeguard and that I was the youngest one there. I tried fathoming out in my mind as to why I became their centre of attraction, especially as the allure of sex with any one of them was indeed very tempting and a few of them have groped my huge cock through my shorts giving me an instant hard on seriously tenting out my shorts whilst walking around the pool. The pool superintendent has warned me that dire consequences would ensue where I to impregnate a girl resulting in my being birched and sent to Borstal followed by a court order to pay maintenance until the child reached 16. There were times I sat in the high chair with my cock becoming rock hard in my shorts copiously leaking pre-cum into a silk black bathing suit I wore underneath having liberated it from the lost property bin last year. I chose to wear this suit instead of my red one during my duties as it's far less likely to draw anyone's attention to myself which also doubles as a luxurious pair of underpants preventing my huge cock dangling below the leg hem of my shorts. The morning of Sunday 3rd of September 1939 was like any Sunday morning with mild sunny weather except this was my last working day at the pool which was about to close for the year. There was an uneasiness one felt likened to a sense of doom and gloom as the country waited for 11 `o'clock with very single newspaper printing press in the country waiting to print the Sunday editions immediately the announcement was made by the BBC. Church services were taking place, the pool was already open and although people was either relaxing on the grass which bordered the pool surround or swimming, everyone's eyes must have been glued to the clock on top of the kiosk building on the far side of the pool watching the minute hand creeping slowly towards the top of the hour. The superintendent was sat outside his office with the loud hailer with a wireless on top of a table tuned into the BBC waiting for the news. There was a deathly silence in the air as swimmers were stood up in the water with no one in the nine foot. I saw 12 year old Anthony Greener, a boy who's a year younger than me who's head I ducked in the water fountain last year on his first day of secondary school sat on the top board. There wasn't a single bird to be seen in the sky adding to the eeriness of the occasion. The clock at Saint Luke's church nearby began striking the hour breaking the eerie silence. The BBC news broadcast came on with the superintendent putting the loud hailer to the speaker and pressing the button with everyone hearing that famous broadcast clearly which no sooner had it finished. Church bells rang out all over the town and the siren on top of the fire brigade tower erupted with its piercing wail, the 11th hour had finally passed by and we were now at war with Germany. During the last hour of daylight, the whole sky had an eerie blood red appearance ending with a blood red sunset and the lights finally going out all over the country by nightfall. By morning the whole country awoke to the news that the liner S S Athenia was torpedoed and sunk by a German submarine. End of chapter two. P.S. I must sincerely thank all those who in their last years of their lives gladly divulged their stories, many of which remained locked in their minds for decades before finally being recounted and therfore not lost.