Date: Sat, 1 Sep 2018 14:02:21 +0100 From: Vintage Speedoboy Subject: Schoolboy Lifeguard 3 Schoolboy Lifeguard part three AKA, The boy in the red bathing suit. Forward. This is entirely a work of fiction and all the named characters are fictitious and any relation to persons living or dead is purely unintentional. This story is set around the start of World War two and thereafter based around the experiences of a typical British secondary schoolboy living in Southern England who's on a quest to work hard saving up money towards his passage to Melbourne, Australia to live with his uncle and aunt during the early part of the Second World War to escape the bombing. These are his adventures. Please leave Nifty a few bob as they do a wonderful job keeping this site operational as we are all leaving a legacy for the future and please have a look in their shop window for those bargains not available in shopping malls or the high street especially the shoulder bags which are ideal for carrying your erotic books on aeroplanes. Chapter three- Back to school. The whole school paraded in the school playground for morning assembly on a brilliant September sunny morning with a few clouds in the sky, a breeze blew in from the south west and prefects walked between the lines of boys carefully inspecting their turnout looking for polished shoes, neatly pressed trousers, blazers brushed down, neat haircuts and cleanly washed with brushed teeth, boys who weren't up to standard had their names taken and later that morning they would see their names on the blackboard for after school detention. The headmaster addressed the entire school with his speech saying. "Today I have the sad task of addressing the school with the news which most of you already know and that is we are now at war with Germany."-- -- -- -- Everyone is now living in dangerous times; war has become mechanized with aeroplanes dropping bombs on cities, poison gas, spies and a lot of other issues endangering human life."-- -- -- -- A number of our boys are absent this morning having already left our shores for countries where they will be safer by sea and I expect to lose more boys in the coming future. Every single one of you must be kept secret and you will soon know who those boys are who I trust will write back home to their friends."-- -- -- -- The authorities will be introducing a number of emergency regulations including the rationing of petrol which we must all observe that is all gentlemen." "Finally a number of our boys have gained their Royal Life Saving Society Bronze Medallions, those boys are a credit to both the school, the town and the British Empire, you will receive your awards from their form teachers now let's have three cheers for those boys," a cacophony of adolescent male voices rang out across the playground when we were dismissed to our forms with the first year boys being marched to the school hall to be allocated their forms. I had now become a third year boy (13 to 14 years old). The first day back was just like any other day except all the boys were now carrying their gas masks in their haversacks. By morning break I learned that Graham has left our shores bound for New York on the SS Manhattan which another fourth year boy told me about as he has family in America and a new blond haired boy called Dylan Masters joined our form having been sent away from London's east end to live with his grandparents. After school I arrived at the Newspaper depot when the boss told us that all copies were stopped from being dispatched whilst waiting for the printer to load up the drum for the stop press printing machine, he finally applied the printing ink, loaded the drum and started the machine to commence the stop press print run. This news brought home the true horrors of war with the sinking of the SS Athenia, a British passenger liner by a German U boat killing a number of passengers and crew and there were no further details available. We were all instructed to shout out like town criers as we rode furiously to our allocated newsagents. "Athenia sunk! ---- Athenia sunk"!. This quickly appeared on every news billboard around town with some of the billboards reading, `Athenia torpedoed by German submarine' and within minutes all the townspeople became stunned at the news resulting in a run on the newspapers with front page news and the latest entry in the stop press column. We experienced another run on the newspapers with the boss having to request more copies sent down by train which were run through the stop press machine before we were finally sent off late on our rounds. Everyone with a wireless must heard the announcement on the BBC nine `o' clock news and everyone of the morning newspapers told a more detailed story that people had died. The whole country was in shock with older generations recalling the sinking of the Lusitania in 1915 and one could definitely sense the country's blood was up despite receiving a bloody nose from Hitler. We said prayers in morning assembly the following day conducted by the reverend from Saint Luke's church. Afterwards there was a solemn atmosphere in the whole school especially as a number of boys were due to be evacuated overseas and now they were worried that the same fate might befall their ship(s). I checked the swimming pool's outside bin finding some school cotton P E shorts, a school P E tee shirt and a couple of silk square cut swimming trunks stashing them all into my duffle bag which was a good move in anticipation of impending clothing shortages. I arrived home late for my evening meal receiving a telling off from my father for an unavoidable situation with mum sticking up for me saying. "Our boy works damn hard to earn his money so you better bloody well leave him alone." After dinner, Dad brought out an object wrapped in an old sheet, he unwrapped it and placed it on the table. It was an old ex Territorial Army BSA Lincoln Jefferies number two bore (.22 inch) air rifle which had gathered dust in his shed after finding it whilst scouring the corporation dump some years ago. He spent ages cleaning and oiling it before he loaded it with a pellet brought from the local fishing tackle and gun shop in the high street after work. He took aim at the fireplace and fired finding the air rifle had very little power. He wrapped it back up and tasked me to take it to the gun shop to have it repaired the following day and ordering two tins of air rifle pellets. I visualized many forthcoming excursions to the corporation dump to shoot rabbits for the pot except a much better idea came to my head when I remembered asking the mechanics at both Meads and Hewens garages for used ball bearings for playing marbles with. I wanted the favourite silent easily concealed weapon used by poachers, a very powerful catapult and not the type sold in the shops either. I badly needed to see the old man at the news stand outside the Rialto cinema having heard his many highly amusing tales of poaching; I needed to learn his skills fast if I'm to assist in putting food onto the table. I met up with John that evening and we went for a ride on our bikes along the towpath towards Bray turning right after crossing Maidenhead Bridge. I knew John was a good swimmer having gone up against him in the Boy Scouts district swimming gala where he came second to me in the freestyle race and having watched him with his friends in the pool from the high chair. We rode past the village to a spot he knew downstream past the Monkey island hotel to a small beach about 10 yards wide entailing clambering down a steep drop with our bikes then locking them together. We stripped off all our clothes and waded into the water naked which surprisingly felt equal to the pool's temperature. The bottom quickly gave way into deep water within only a few yards which was very deceptive indeed and yet we sat comfortably in the water within feet of the bank talking about our lives when we began swimming against the slow current on breast stroke to see where we're going which took us ages to pass the green to our right then further on till we came to a landing stage, we clambered beside it and finally climbed up on to it from the water's edge. John lay down on his back on the wooden planks with both hands behind his head in the late evening sunshine whilst I sat on the end of the landing stage feet dangling above the water admiring the peaceful view on the other side. His genitals were surrounded by a mass of shiny jet black pubic hair, he was olive skinned with black hair and brown eyes sporting breast buds on his nipples. He was a well built lad for his age and the next time I looked his seven inch cock was rock hard oozing a clear fluid with a white sheen over its head sticking out like a pole and he was slowly wanking it with slow strokes when he asked me. "I've been wishing to do this with you for ages which is why I've brought you here." I became dumbfounded by this older boy who's a year above me at school and yet it seemed as though I hardly ever spoke to him and now he most certainly has my attention. I reasoned that he's chosen this place well with the steps leading down to landing stage overgrown with shrubs effectively hiding us from passers by on the towpath. The long swim in the nude on an otherwise open and well used stretch of the river certainly was highly exhilarating tempered by children swimming naked during the last few years simply because their parents were struggling to afford their swimsuits when I surprised John by sucking off his cock to be rewarded with him shooting off a huge load of spunk in seconds and surprising him by swallowing his spunk giving him a highly intense orgasm knowing he won't be forgetting that in a hurry. Whilst sucking off the older teenager my huge man sized teenage boy cock became rock hard oozing out pre-cum when he beckoned me to lie down saying. "So it is true what they're saying about you, you have the biggest prick I've seen, I am in awe of you, I bet you have all the girls after you." "Only one and she seduced me, I promised myself to be more careful from now on, you know how it is, get one pregnant and you go to Borstal." John wanked off my erect cock who I must say has a nice style plus he done something I never expected from him, at first he pressed my perineum with his thumb then put his middle finger up my arse and massaged my secret love button inside whereupon my cock rapidly erupted like a hose with powerful jets of spunk flying out spectacularly with him uttering. "Bloody hell!" in amazement. We dived in together and swam back to the mini beach downstream in the failing light, dried off, got dressed and rode back to our homes. Friday afternoon's games period was cross country and fortunately Dylan's grandparents had already bought him his specified school P E kit. We were lined up waiting to march off to the North Town playing fields when Dylan sauntered over to the toilet block. Some minutes later Mr. Badcock sent me to get him where I found him stood at the urinals having a good wank just as he was shooting his load of spunk onto the porcelain and it was indeed a big load too. Being the new boy he panicked begging me not to tell anyone. I said. "Dylan, this is our secret and I won't tell on you, now just let me lick your cock clean and suck out all your remaining spunk so as not to leak any more into your underpants," "You'll do that for me?" - - - "What are friends for, come on, put it there," as we shook hands when he passinately kissed me with a very sensual tongue kiss when I said. "Come on, they're waiting for us." Being the fastest runner in the school, I ran at a slower pace so Dylan could stick to me like glue and to show him the course. Coming from the city he wasn't a fit runner having to take frequent stops to catch his breath which was part of my duties as the cross country captain for our year with a duty to give Mr. Badcock a verbal report which seemed to fall on deaf ears as he knew only full well that us country lads are fitter than city boys owing to our more open air style of lives and with the passing of time in the clean country air, Dylan's health can only improve. I inducted Dylan into our scout troop and fortunately he already has his uniform being a second in his troop. The solution I settled with was to place him in my patrol and alternate between duties each week. With him also being well kitted out, I arranged a one night camp out the following weekend at the local thicket well off the beaten track amongst young trees and shrubs. Having previously discussed our kit and food requirements I bought an ex army mark V groundsheet from the last war measuring six foot and six inches by three foot from the local army surplus shop as Dylan also had one and the plan was to erect a low flat shelter by tying both our capes together using garden twine along the edge without the collar strung up between trees with twine with a length ot twine tied to an overhead branch to giving the shelter a slight slant for rainwater to run off. Having erected the shelter and laid out our blanket bedrolls, I brewed up a mess tin of water to make two cups of tea and we sat there talking about our lives and hopes for our future amidst the gentle rustle of trees in a slight breeze with birdsong all around and clearly this was a peace Dylan wasn't accustomed to having lived in the slums of the east end since birth and never once set foot out in the country and yet he somehow felt at home here with its peaceful existence amongst nature. He entered the shelter to lay on his bedroll reading a book whilst I sat contemplating the scenery all around and when I next looked he was lying on his bedroll totally naked slowly stroking his rock hard cock when I called out. "Hey, be careful where you shoot that thing," when he replied. "I want this inside your back fanny hole and fill you up with spunk." I positioned myself with my shorts and uderpants around my ankles on all fours when I felt his finger applying Vaseline inside my rear hole followed by him smearing it over his rock hard leaking cock dripping pre-cum onto the grass which felt really good when the head of his cock touched my hole and with one gentle push he was right up inside me as he held me by the hips. I knew straight away that this boy certainly knew what he's doing. He plowed into me at a very sensual pace even though his fat seven inches of teen boy's cock filled me right up and felt like I was in heaven. I felt really enjoyable sensations inside my hole plus his cock was also massaging my secret inner button making my huge cock leak like a tap and occasionally shooting out a jet of my love juices as I built up to a shattering climax with a lot of spunk flying everywhere in huge long squirts like a hose as this was the best and biggest load I shot to date as I felt his warm squirts flood my insides. After he pulled out he tried licking as much of his spunk from my hole then went on to licking and sucking my cock of all remaing spunk ending with him giving me a tongue laden spunk kiss followed by him stripping me totally naked, entering our shelter and making passionate love kissing and fondling each other on top of our bedrolls. Dylan certainly knew his stuff all right and I learned a new phrase today when he lovingly described 'The cottage business' and how he would pick up men in public toilets, some of who drove him elsewhere to a flat for sex with men of all ages and getting paid handsomely for his efforts with myself thinking perhaps I'm in the wrong business as regards earning money. The toilets in the local park were out of bounds to the whole school and even if you were busting for a shit, it would cost you a penny as there was those dreaded coin operated door locks on every door whereas you would have a free shit in the school bogs. I had a really good ace up my sleeve in the form of a skeleton key which I found which opens and locks the door on the football pavilion which is where I want to give Dylan a good arse pounding with my monster schoolboy cock and see how well he can take one of my huge loads of spunk. We had a peaceful sleepover that night followed by cooking breakfast on both our Blackies Tommy's cookers before finally striking camp and heading home. I met old Bert Haskins who must be at last 70 the next evening after finishing my paper round at his newspaper stand outside the Rialto cinema and thankfully I was his favourite newsboy having made many deliveries to him using the boss's trades' bike and having told me many highly amusing tales previously, I was about to ask him for a lot more and had my well thought out line already rehearsed asking "Bert, now that we're at war, can you teach me to become like yourself, a poacher in case of food shortages?" "Tom, I will gladly train you but be in no doubt this can be a dangerous game, unlike the old days there'll be troops all over the place who won't hesitate to shoot at you if you don't answer their challenge. You my lad would have to be a lot smarter than I ever was, now what do you have to start bagging bunnies with? "Dad's having an old air rifle fixed by the gunsmith who says it will be ready in about a week." "They're silent all right but you aren't 17 and like it as not, a soldier would take you for being armed thinking it's a rifle or shotgun. That's fine if you have permission to shoot on someone's land, what you need is something you can hide in your clothes, something like this." He produced from his inside coat pocket a marvel of a person's hand made craft. It was made from a Y shaped thick piece of French polished plywood with two bands made from stout surgical latex tubing giving a draw weight comparable to an archery bow fastened to both the frame with a soft leather pouch and a sighting notch cut onto the side of the right hand fork for a right handed firer. From another pocket he produced a two ounce tobacco tin full of three eighths ball bearings wrapped with a rag inside the tin. I was awestruck by Bert's weapon and there's no doubting it was very powerful when he said with moistened eyes as though he was about to cry. "Sonny, my poaching days are over, now you promise me you will make good use if it, you must practice and practice for it is only your sight of eye and the feel of this weapon which will make it hit the target," when he gave me his prized catapult. One evening I rode with Dylan on our bikes to the same spot for skinnydipping at the same place I went with John but first off I had to make sure Dylan could swim and in order to do this I entered the water first warning him. "Dylan, where I'm standing is as far as I can walk on the bottom as one more step will take me out of my depth, if you can swim that's fine but if not we stay here close to the bank. As you already know I am qualified as a lifeguard so if you do get into difficulties, I can rescue you." "You needn't worry about me as dad made sure I was taught to swim." "OK then, we'll swim up to the landing stage about a furlong away to our right, there's a gentle current so swim breast stroke to look where you're going." Fortunately he's a good swimmer although not in my league and yet swimming the furlong was like a walk in the park when we both clambered onto the landing stage and sat down admiring the view and it wasn't long before we gave each others cocks a good wank which he says certainly consummates a good skinnydipping session ending with sucking each others cocks clean before the return swim back to the mini beach to dry off then passionately embracing each other like lovers with tongue kissing, fondling and caressing each other with a last grasp of each others cocks before riding home from an experience which made Dylan a very happy boy ending our bike ride with a sensous embrace kissing each other passionately and dry humping our rock hard clothed cocks into each other when Dylan finally said. "You know what Tom, you're the best friend I've ever had, I really love you," when we parted with a sensual tongue kiss, End of chapter three.