Date: Wed, 1 Nov 2006 14:10:50 -0600
From: spasm2 <spasm2 (at) mailandnews.com>
Subject: Pauls Pants episode 5b

Paul's Pants episode 5b, Onward Christian Soldiers

This is the second part of the school camping saga, sorry if the numbering
is getting confusing. Usual story; comments, requests, or insults to;
spasm2[at]mailandnews.com. The next episode will follow in a week or so, if
inspiration continues to stick with me.

	Paul was very happy to receive the news of our enforced
co-habitation, although he was disappointed to discover that it wasn't
going to be for a couple of days; after all his original doubts and fears,
and still firmly of the opinion that he was totally heterosexual, he had
plunged into our sexual games with abandon and enthusiasm. `After all,' he
said frequently, `it's just like having a wank.'

	`So it is,' I would agree, `only sometimes you do it to me, and I
do it to you, other times we do it together.'

	`Yeah, but there's nothing gay about it, `cos I'm straight and so
are you.'

	` That's the way it has to be,' I would say, ambiguously, ever
grateful that Paul wasn't sensitive to nuance.

	`You're just a bit of a perve about pants, that's all, plenty of
worse things to be kinky about, not like being a poof after all.'

	I was always left a bit mind-fucked after one of Paul's philosophy
sessions, I have always been quite happily bi, but his vehement insistence
that he was straight and our ever more extreme sexual experimentation was a
circle that I found very hard to square. I was only too happy to play
along, whatever he thought he was doing, I was having a ball; an attractive
and flexible young boy who was happy to dress up, undress and model for me,
plus I was getting my cock sucked in a variety of interesting locations, it
was all good. Whilst I had never contemplated erotic photography as a
career, I was getting quite into it, and as I was getting a lot of practice
I was beginning to be quite good at it. Not that in those pre-internet days
there was any outlet that a teenage boy could have used to publish the
images, even now, years later, I think some of the images we created stand
up well against others in the genre.

        Obviously we couldn't talk about our plans that evening, as our
teachers had a heavy guitar and tambourine session planned for us after
supper, and we deliberately avoided each other at the meal. I managed to
catch a quick word when we went for a piss; `get up and go to the toilet at
about 11.00 tonight, and we can have a chat, work out what we're going to
do.' I said discreetly.

        `Ok,' he replied, and that, until our assignation, was that.

        I couldn't get to sleep that night, the thought of Paul in his
nearby dormitory lying there listening to the furtive masturbation of its
other occupants, and the sound of my dorm; full of snoring, farting boys
conspired to prevent me from even dozing. Also, I hadn't worked out how to
set an alarm that wouldn't wake the whole hut, so I lay there for two hours
after lights out, staring at my watch in the moonlight, listening to a room
full of sleeping boys, unable even to read without drawing attention to
myself. Thankfully the time for our meeting came at last, and I slipped
quietly out of my bed and carefully opening the old fashioned latch on the
door, went out into the night. It was cool and clear, a bright moon
lighting the path, I was shivering, dressed only in my pyjama bottoms as I
made my way over to the toilet and shower block. It was more than a little
disappointing to find that Paul wasn't there when I walked in, and after
waiting for a few minutes I decided to give up and go back to bed. I was
just walking back down the path when a hand clamped itself over my mouth,
and I felt a warm body pressed up against me. Paul's voice hissed in my
ear; `sorry to surprise you, I couldn't get away, there's another boy awake
in the hut, and he wanted me to take him to the bog with me.'

        `Where is he?' I whispered back.

        `He's looking for his slippers, I said I'd go ahead and check for
spiders, the little chicken is terrified of creepy crawlies. Tell you what
though.'

        `What?'

        `He's in the bed next to me, and during the night when he was
having a bit of a wank, I pretended to be asleep, and I saw his cock.'

        `So?'

        `He's not got much hair yet, but it's huge.'

        `How did you feel about that?'

        `Funny, but it gave me an idea.'

        `Oh yes, what was that.'

        `I'll tell you later, he's coming.' Paul lit up a cigarette, by way
of disguising our motivation.

        A small, sleepy looking boy shuffled along the path, I couldn't
swear to it, but he looked like the one who had been watching us when we
were having a piss together on our arrival day. I resisted the temptation
to go inside and check him out. A few minutes later, he ambled out again,
looked curiously at us and then wandered off into the night.

	`This is all too complicated,' I said, grumpily, `I just wanted to
work out what we're going to do for the next few days, but if you're going
to bring a friend along.'

	`He just tagged along, nothing to do with me.'

	`Ok,' I relented, `the next couple of days, we'll have to just hang
back, but we've got a couple of days and nights to come, as it were.'

	Paul flipped away his cigarette butt, `D'you want me to tell you my
idea?'

	`Of course,' I was intrigued, Paul was very good at running with an
idea when I gave it to him, but he hadn't often initiated anything.

	`That boy gave me the idea,' he said, `his cock looked so big
without the pubes round it, so I thought I'd shave mine off.'

	`Wow,' I blurted out, `are you sure? You'll have to be careful
about who sees you naked until it grows back.'

	`I know,' he said impatiently, `but I think it could be a winner
with a girl, and I like to give it a try.'

	I wasn't sure about the logic of his argument, but it was certainly
turning me on, I could feel my prick thickening. Glancing down, I could see
that he was similarly affected, the pressure of his erection was causing
the flies of his pyjama bottoms to gape and giving little flashes of his
shaft. `If that's what you want to do, I'm game,' I said, `my mum made me
bring razors and shaving cream with me, just in case we went anywhere
smart.'

	`You don't need to shave yet, do you?'

	`No, not really, just a bit of bum-fluff, I don't know what she was
thinking of, the chances of our going anywhere smart are pretty
remote. Unless she meant Church of course.'

	`Church, of course,' he said thoughtfully, `you've given me an
idea.'

	`Now hold on,' I stammered, `I'm pretty much up for anything, but
I'm not going to give you a blow job in a Church.'

	`No, no, that wasn't my idea,' he protested, `I thought Church
parade might be an ideal time to bunk off and do it.'

	`Hmm, are you sure? They're pretty keen on getting us into Church,
and two of us skiving are certain to be missed.'

	`Leave it to me, I have an idea.'

	`Ok, you've got all day tomorrow to come up with something' I said,
`but now we'd better go back to our beds, or your little friend will start
to suspect something.'

	`Right, see you in the morning.' With that he turned and walked
jauntily down the path.

	I went back to my hut, and climbed back into my bed,
surreptitiously rubbing at my aching erection until I drifted into an
uneasy sleep, my mind filled with images of Paul and our sex together.

        Next morning at breakfast, I was once again summoned to talk to the
senior master; `Umm, I was wondering if you had had any further thoughts
about the task I asked you to take on?' He asked.

        `Task, Sir?'

        `Taking young Paul on the orienteering exercise.'

        `Oh that, Sir, no, not really, I said I'd do it, doesn't seem to be
much of a problem to me. I'm not that great at reading maps, but between us
I guess we'll rub along ok.'

        `This is a bit awkward,' he said slowly.

        `Awkward, Sir?' I parroted unhelpfully, `We might be a bit rubbish,
but we'll get there.'

        `No I meant with Paul,' he said, `he has been getting a bit of a
rough time at school and we've not really got off to a great start here.'

        `Oh I wouldn't say that, Sir, once I'd got him to clean up, we had
a fun time together, nothing complicated, just boy stuff. He's Ok really,
just a bit stroppy.'

        `Exactly,' he said, triumphantly, `he needs to have a mentor,
someone who's not going to lead him into bad ways, he can never resist a
dare, and it's going to get him into trouble.'

        `I see, Sir,' I said thoughtfully, `so what you want is someone to
keep a friendly eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.'

        `Precisely, do you think you might be prepared to take him in
hand?'

        `Well, if you put it like that, Sir, I don't see how I can refuse,
although I think it would be sensible not to let him know that I am being
asked to keep an eye on him.'

        `Right, right,' he nodded in agreement, `what can we do to help?'

        `Hmm, I'm not sure, apart from buddying us up together, maybe you
can let us have some time together if things get out of hand. After my
experiences yesterday, I think I have found a few ways of handling him, but
I suspect it only works one on one.'

        `I can make sure that we give you some space together if there are
any more problems.'

        `Thank you, Sir, I'll do what I can to help out.'

        `No, thank you,' he replied, `I think you are showing a very mature
attitude.'

        `I do my best,' I answered, getting embarrassed, `but really, it's
no trouble.'

        `Good man,' he said, and with that he went on his way.

        This day was scheduled to be a low energy day, allowing us to
recover from the exertions of the previous days hike, and to explore the
nearby village. I went off with my classmates, and we spent a pleasurable
morning doing very little. I was a little distracted still; the idea of
getting it together with Paul again was very much on my mind, and I was
wondering how he might engineer our missing Church parade.

        Our day passed without event, I scarcely saw anything of him; In
the afternoon I went boating on the lake with my mates, and he hung out
with a group of lads from his year playing table tennis and smoking
surreptitious fags. At supper I noticed that he wasn't there, and indeed,
he wasn't to be seen after either. I asked a teacher where he was; `Oh,
he's gone off to have a lie down, said he was feeling sick, maybe because
he swallowed some of the mud from his ducking the other day. He looked
awful; white and shivering, I've sent him to his hut and left him alone
with a bucket for the time being, I was going to go and check how he was in
a minute.'

        `Oh dear,' I replied, `has he had anything for it?'

        `No, not yet, I was going to take him a cup of tea, and see how he
is.'

        `Tell you what, I'll take it to him, see how he feels.'

        `That's very kind of you,' he said, `when you're done, report back
to me, will you?'

        `Of course I will.' I made Paul a big mug of hot sweet tea, and
crammed my pockets with biscuits. I walked silently over to the hut; as I
opened the door, I heard a flurry of motion inside, yet when I walked in
all was quiet. On one side of the room a body lay curled up in its bed,
face turned away from the door. I walked over and looked down at him; his
eyes were closed, but he was breathing quite heavily and his face was
flushed. I put my hand on his forehead; it too was hot, and slightly
damp. At my touch, he stirred and his blue eyes fluttered open. `Oh, it's
you,' he said, sitting up abruptly.

        `I brought you a cup of tea, how are you feeling?'

        `I'm starving, got anything to eat?'

        `Only biscuits, but should you be eating if you're sick?'

        `Don't be dumb, I'm doing this to get out of Church parade
tomorrow.'

        `You're very convincing, they told me you were all white and shaky,
likely to spew at any minute, and now you're flushed and sweating.'

        `Ah,' he said, `I did the cigar trick first off.'

        `Eh? Explain,' I asked bewildered.

        `If you inhale a cigar, and try to blow it out through your nose
it'll make you sick, try it.'

        `No, no, I believe you, but won't they smell it on you?'

        `They all smoke like chimneys, and anyway, who's going to get that
close to a boy who looks like he could to vom any second.'

        `Ok, I'll buy that, how d'you do the hot and sweaty?' He smiled and
threw back the blankets, his cock was sticking, firm and hot out of the
flies of his pyjama bottoms, and a dog eared girly mag was visible
alongside him. `You little sod,' I said, `I was worried about you being
ill, and here you are having a crafty wank.'

        `Oh, don't be like that, I made myself sick so we could do stuff
together tomorrow, and then I was bored, couldn't stop thinking about
it. So I just did what comes naturally to a boy.'

        I wasn't really cross, who would have been. I leaned over and took
hold of his prick, the glans was already well lubricated and his foreskin
easily slid back; `Mmm, you weren't far off coming were you?'

        `No, I was nearly there when I heard the door catch open,' he
grinned.

        `Do you think you can hold on `til tomorrow? Or will you finish
this off as soon as I walk out of the door?'

        `What do you think?' he said naughtily.

        `I think I'd better take you in hand, you're getting cheeky.'

        `Just in hand?' he pouted, rolling onto his back.

        I knelt down beside the bed, and continued to masturbate him,
running my hand with firm strokes up and down the length of his hot
shaft. As the first splashes of pre-cum welled up from the tip, and his
ears turned bright pink, I heard the sound of footsteps and the rattle of
the door latch, `Shit!' I swore, and pushed Paul onto his side, letting go
of his cock. Hastily I rearranged the bedding, and by the time our visitor
had come into the hut, I was standing by the bed, Paul huddled in his
sheets as before.

        `How's the patient?' asked the teacher, walking over to us.

        `Seems a bit feverish, Sir, I was just trying to get him up.'

        The teacher did as I had done, and put his hand on Paul's sweaty
forehead, `Oh dear,' he said, `he is a bit hot. Has he drunk his tea?'

        `Not yet, Sir.'

        `Hmm, perhaps we'd better get him over to sick bay. Do you think
you could walk?' He addressed Paul directly.

        I could see the look of horror on Paul's face, being caught with a
stiffy was embarrassing enough, but I suspect the girly mag under the bed
sheets would cause all sorts of problems too. `I think he'd be better off
in his own bed, Sir, after all he hasn't puked up or anything, and in here
there'll be plenty of people to raise the alarm if he does get any worse.'
I improvised manfully. `Drink your tea,' I commanded, and Paul sat up and
obediently swigged from the mug. Even through the thickness of his bedding
I could see the solid ridge of his erect cock, although if you didn't know
it, it just looked like a fold in the blankets.

        He finished gulping down his tea, and said chirpily; `I feel a bit
better now, not so sick, but I do feel tired.'

        `Well,' the teacher said thoughtfully, `I think maybe we'll leave
you here tonight, unless you get worse of course. Can we get you anything
else?'

        `Perhaps another cup of tea later, or perhaps a little soup,' he
quavered, playing the feeble invalid card.

        `Good, have a little sleep and I'll get someone to bring you
something in an hour or so. Now,' he added, addressing me, `we'd better
leave him be for a while, will you check him out later, see if you can
rustle up some soup or something.'

        `Yes, Sir, I'll look after things.'

        `Right, come on then.' With that he ushered me out of the hut, I'd
not been able to give Paul his biscuits, so he'd have to go hungry until I
came back to check on him. Hopefully the scare he'd had would stop him from
finishing his wank, although somehow I doubted it, pity to waste that sperm
after all.

        A couple of hours later, after we'd done with hymn singing and so
forth, I heated up some tomato soup, made some tea, and took a mug of each
out to the invalid. This time when I opened the door, there was no
movement, instead I could hear the even breathing and snuffles of a
sleeping boy. Quietly I walked across the wooden floor, trying very hard
not to step on a creaky board until I found myself next to his bed. In his
slumber he had rolled over onto his back, and his bedclothes were all
tangled. I knelt down, and slowly and stealthily I slipped my hand under
the blankets. Carefully I explored until my hand brushed against the warm
firmness of his thigh, cautiously I moved on up, feeling the heat radiating
from his body until I found the fly opening. I softly pushed my hand in,
and began to stroke his flaccid dick, enjoying the feel of the soft hairs
on his scrotum as well. Under my gentle ministrations, his cock began to
swell again under my fingers until it was stiff and hard once more. I took
hold of it, and slowly started to masturbate him. Paul let out a heavy
sigh, and his eyelids fluttered open. `Oh, it is you, I thought I was
dreaming, what a nice way to wake up though.'

        Reluctantly I let go; `Here I brought you some soup and more tea,
just couldn't resist copping a feel while I was here.'

        `That's cool, I'm starving,' he seized the mug of soup from me and
slurped a mouthful, `oh, that's better.'

        `Better than having your cock pulled?'

        `No, but I can do that any time, and right now I need to eat.'

        `Fair enough, and anyway I bet you had your cock in your hand the
minute we'd shut the door behind us.'

        `No, actually I fell asleep and haven't touched myself,' he said
with dignity.

        `Sorry,' I apologised, `anyway, d'you think you can make your
sickness last `til morning?'

        `No bother, I'll just start to heave, and they'll leave me in my
bed. All we need to do is make sure you are left to take care of me again.'

        `That should be a cinch,' I replied, `they seem to think I am a
responsible person.'

        `So you are,' he grinned, `responsible for making me come.'

        Once again the rattle of the door catch prevented us from taking
things any further; it was the younger boys, being sent to get ready for
bed. As they giggled and chattered, we both watched them as they
unselfconsciously stripped down to their underpants and grabbing their
towels headed back out to the bath house. The young boy who had the bed
next to Paul was wearing white cotton y-fronts and there was indeed
evidence of an impressive bulge showing when he bent down to pick up his
towel off the floor. I could feel my prick stiffening as I looked on, his
butt was dead cute too as he made his way jauntily out of the hut. `I see
what you mean,' I said, once the exodus was complete. Paul's hand had
disappeared under the bedclothes and I could see from the movement that he
had taken over from where I had left off. `I thought pants didn't do
anything for you?' I asked quizzically.

        `They don't,' he replied, `but that boy reminded me of when I was
young and we first started taking pictures together. Remember the baggy old
white pants I used to have to wear?'

        `How could I forget?'

        `Well, it just brought it all back, that's all.'

        `Fair enough, I'd better leave you to your dreams then, or they'll
be wondering what I'm up to, see you in the morning.'

        `Yeah, goodnight, you won't be seeing me at breakfast, but steal me
some food if you can.'

        True to his word, Paul didn't show for breakfast, once the dishes
had been cleared away (and after I had stolen the makings of a sausage
sarnie), I approached the teacher, `How is Paul this morning, Sir? I see he
didn't manage breakfast.'

        `Mmm, he's still a bit poorly, said he didn't sleep well. The other
boys said he was tossing and turning all night.'

        `Oh dear, I'll go and see how he is, see if he wants anything.' I
added helpfully.

        `Yes, that would be kind, I'm just off to have a word with the
warden, see if he'll keep an eye on him while we're at Church.'

        I cursed silently, we hadn't thought of the warden when we made our
plans, of course he would be able to watch the invalid, while I was stuck
in Church for an hour and a half feeling frustrated and distinctly
ungodly. I hurried over to the hut to break the bad news to Paul, he was
sitting up in bed with an old jumper on. He was furious when I told him
what was happening, and swore loudly; `Fuck it! Why didn't I think of that?
I could have done something to get rid of the warden.'

        `Oh well, there's not much we can do now. Here's your butty, I'll
go and make you a cup of tea, and then I have to go and pray with all the
others.' When I re-entered the breakfast room, however, the teacher had
returned from his mission, and was standing by the kettle; `Ah, there you
are, I'm afraid I'm going to have to impose on your good nature yet again.'

        `Beg your pardon, Sir?'

        `It appears that the warden has already taken advantage of our
scheduled absence this morning to carry out some mission, unspecified, of
his own, and being absent, is thus unable to supervise the invalid.'

        `I'm sorry, Sir, what are you saying?'

        `What I am saying, young man, is that rather than saving your soul
with the rest of us, I am asking you to stay behind and look after that boy
again.'

        `Oh, I see, well I suppose I could.'

        `I realise you're disappointed, but you seem to have some sort of a
relationship with the boy and we can't leave him unattended.'

        `Relationship, Sir, I don't think so. I just seem to be able to
handle him, but a relationship, that's illegal and unchristian.'

        `I didn't mean that sort of a relationship, you idiot child,' he
harrumphed testily, `all I was suggesting was that you had developed a
rapport with him, and as we have already discussed, he needs a responsible
role model.'

        `Oh, that's ok then, Sir,' I said, feigning relief, `I was worried
that people might be talking about me, and that wouldn't be nice.'

        `Believe me, they are only saying good things about you if they
are, you will come out of this holiday showered with approbation.' With
that he stomped out of the room and began summoning his flock. I put the
kettle on to make the tea, and waited for them all to leave, before I
carried the mug of tea over to the hut.

        Paul was sitting up in bed still, but he was not alone, the
well-endowed small boy was sitting on the bed, holding a camera. `What are
you still doing here?' I asked.

        `He's jammed a film in his camera, and asked me if I'd help him to
take it out, I said to wait for you.'

        `Ok, give it here,' I said impatiently, the film was well and truly
jammed. `Are there any exposures on here that're very precious? Cos I might
trash it when I open the back unless I'm lucky.'

        He blushed beetroot red, and shook his head, `No, nothing I can't
do again, just trash it.'

        `Ok then, you hop off to Church, they've only just gone, and if you
leg it you'll catch up. I'll have a go at this later, once I've seen to the
needs of the patient.'

        `Right,' he said, `thanks,' and with that, he dashed out of the
door and away down the path.

        `What was all that about,' asked Paul.

        `Not sure, but the way he turned bright red when I asked him what
he'd been photographing intrigues me, I think I might extract the film
rather carefully and see what's on it.'

        `Oh well,' he said impatiently, `that's not important right now,
hadn't you better get off to Church too?'

        `Ah,' I said slowly, `fact is, the warden had already buggered off,
so I've been left in charge of you again'

        It was like the sun coming out again, as he gradually realised what
I had just said, a broad grin spread across his face, `Brilliant,' he
shouted, throwing the bedclothes aside and jumping out of bed, `what are we
waiting for?'

        `Drink your tea,' I said firmly, `you'll need the energy, and we
should give them five minutes to get down the road, we've had too many
close shaves.'

        `Oh yeah,' he grinned, `but now we're going to have a different
kind of close shave.'

        `Less of the we, if you don't mind, I intend to hang onto my
pubes.'

        Now that we were sure that everybody had gone, we made our way to
the bathing hut, I was feeling quite nervous; after all I was barely used
to shaving myself and here he was trusting his precious manhood to me. I
suppose I ought to be grateful that he didn't give much thought to
consequences. In the centre of the hut was a big solid table, and I spread
out a bath towel, laying out my implements on one side; a couple of razors,
shaving cream, sponge and scissors. `Right,' I said, `first off, into the
shower with you, get those pubes softened up.'

        `Ok,' he replied, and briskly stripped off his clothes.

        `Wait,' I said, `come over here for a moment, I need to check you
out.' Paul obediently stood in front of me, and I fluffed up his soft pubes
with my fingers. His prick wasn't stiff, although now it was getting a
little attention, it was beginning to liven up, giving a little twitch as I
handled it. `Are you sure you want to do this?' I asked gently, `I think
you look good with your pubes as they are.'

        `Yeah, but they'll grow back if it looks wrong.'

        I lifted up his cock and inspected the soft growth of hair on his
balls, `How far do you want me to go?'

        `What do you mean?'

        `I can just shave your pubes off, but there's all the hair on your
balls, and up your crack.'

        `My crack, really?'

        I guess he'd missed out on that aspect of his development, I spun
him round and pushing his legs apart I ran my hand up the crack in his
butt, `here,' I said, gently tickling the rosette of fine hairs that
surrounded his anus. `There's not a lot of it, but it's growing.'

        He giggled, `that feels sexy,' and indeed his cock was springing to
life in front of me.

        `So,' I asked again, `how far should I go?'

        `All the way,' he said dreamily, his now solid erection pressing up
against me. I was getting hard too, although as I was still dressed this
wasn't so apparent.

        `Ok, then into the shower with you.' I stopped caressing his butt,
and spinning him round I pushed him gently towards the shower stall. I was
beginning to realise that this might get a little messy, so I stripped down
to my white cotton pants in anticipation. While he was showering, I filled
a bowl with hot water, and brought it over to the table. When Paul stepped,
rosy and pink out of the shower stall, I ushered him over to the big table
and got him to sit on the edge. I picked up the scissors and advanced;
`There'll be no turning back,' I said, giving him a chance to back out.

        `Just do it,' he said, and leaned back on his elbows to watch.

        With a slightly shaky hand, I slipped my fingers into his pubes and
took off the first cut. Carefully, I clipped off all the hair as close to
the skin as I could manage, and then, lifting up his semi-hard cock, I
trimmed the soft hairs off his balls. `Roll over and stick your bum in the
air,' I commanded, as he obeyed I parted his cheeks and carefully snipped
away the hairs round his anus, the coldness of the scissors against his
tender skin making him wriggle in mixed pleasure and pain. I clipped off
any loose hairs that I could see at the base of his balls. Then I patted
his bum and said; `Ok, you can roll onto your back now, and I'll soap you
up. First though, I'd better get rid of all this hair.'

        `What will you do with it?'

        `I'm going to put it outside, so the birds can have it for their
nests, it's that time of year.'

        Paul looked at me in disbelief; `you're going to let birds nest in
my pubes! That's sick.'

        `Why, they collect wool from the fences, don't you think that your
pubes will be just as good?'

        `I suppose so, but you're weird. Pass me those scissors, and I`ll
see if you've missed any hairs.'

        I popped my head out of the hut door, checking for signs of life
before I ran out, leaving the little bundle of Paul's pubes by the side of
the path. I suppose if anyone had seen me it might have looked odd, dressed
only in my pants with an obvious stiffy. I ducked back into the hut, and
returned to Paul; he had abandoned the scissors, and was gently stroking
his burgeoning erection, he didn't look great, the close cut pubes still
showed as a dark and patchy stubble. `Hmm,' I said, `time for phase
two. Lie back please.' I squeezed some shaving cream onto my hand, and
began to rub it onto his wet skin, splashing on a little water from my bowl
to help build up the foam. For my first approach, I rubbed the rich creamy
foam around the base of his cock and over his balls, and picking up my
razor, I began to shave him.
        As I have previously suggested, I wasn't particularly used to
shaving, I was sufficiently skilled that I could remove my meagre facial
hair without cutting myself. I had no experience of removing pubes, how
could I? So I was concentrating very hard to get the job done without
cutting or scraping his skin. Removing the hair from his pubic mound was
easy enough and I was lucky that he didn't really have very much hair
anywhere else. A few smooth strokes and that was all gone, shaving his
balls was more problematical, but I solved this by cupping his scrotum in
one hand and carefully shaving a small part at a time. Once I thought I'd
done as much as I could, I rinsed him off; his rapidly engorging cock was
smooth and hairless, projecting from his bald groin. I ran my hand all over
him, noting any areas of stubble that I would need to come back to, quite
smooth, but another go would be needed. `Ok,' I said, `roll over, time to
do your arse.'

        Paul rolled over onto his stomach, obligingly spreading his legs,
his cock was pressing down into the towel. I ran an exploring hand over his
cheeks, and along his crack. Although he was quite relaxed I couldn't
really get to his anus without risking a razor cut. `Hmm, this won't do,' I
said.

        `What won't?' he replied lazily.

        `I can't get to your crack safely, can you spread your legs a bit
more?'

        `How about this?' he said, and pulled his knees up, lifting his
butt up into the air and spreading his cheeks.

        `Yeah, that's great,' I said, sounding more confident than I
felt. I squeezed some more shaving cream onto my hand and worked up a
lather before spreading it onto his butt. Carefully I smoothed the thick
cream into his crack, and massaged it evenly along the length, all the way
to the base of his balls. Paul wiggled his butt in appreciation, as I made
sure that there was a good coverage. Here, gentle reader, I have to make a
small confession; as I was soaping him up, my fingers may have lingered
longer and probed a little more deeply into his anus than was strictly
necessary for the exercise in hand. I was feeling highly turned on, as an
investigation of my crotch would easily have demonstrated. Paul was away on
another planet, his cock rock hard and begging for my attention, and my
discreet investigation of his back passage was producing moans of
appreciation rather than protest.

        However, I reluctantly returned to my mission, and picking up my
razor, I very carefully shaved off the remains of the rosette around his
pucker before moving on to shave the base of his balls. I wiped off the
remains of the foam and inspected my handiwork; `Hmm, pretty good,' I said,
running my fingers over his virgin arse and provoking yet another moan from
him, `but I'd better go over it again with a fresh razor.' I lathered him
up for a second time, using this as another opportunity to feel him up
again and carefully shaved him.  With my soapy hand, I reached through his
legs and gripped his cock, my hand slipped easily up and down the thickness
of his shaft, pausing deliciously to tease the head. Paul groaned his
appreciation, and one of his hands stealthily made its way back towards my
straining erection, grasping it through the fabric of my pants. We enjoyed
each other in this luxurious fashion for a few moments, until I decided
that I should carry on with my task.

        `Time for you to turn over, and I'll finish the job,' I said
ambiguously.

        Paul rolled over onto his back, legs spread wide, his cock pointing
to the sky, and I spread more foam over him before running the razor over
his naked flesh again. His prick was now proving to be something of a
hindrance to my work, partly because it was so rigidly in the way, and
partly because it was so very tempting to me. Finally, I finished the job
to my satisfaction, and wiped the last bits of foam off him. He stood up
and faced me; `how do I look?' he asked anxiously.

        `Horny as fuck,' I said, and it was true, his now bald groin made
his jutting cock look twice the size, and the absence of hair knocked about
two years off his apparent age. Diplomatically, I decided not to point this
out to him; if his real intention had been to pull the birds, then looking
like he'd only just got into his teens was probably not going to be a
winner. `Talc or lotion?' I asked.

        `Pardon,' he said.

        `Once you've showered off the last of the foam, I'll need to put
something on your shaved skin or you'll end up looking like a plucked
chicken. I reckoned that your Brut 33 would be a bit cruel, not to mention
uncomfortable and very unpleasant. So I brought some talcum powder over,
but I've spotted some lotion that someone has left behind.'

        `Aha, lotion I reckon,' he said, smiling wickedly, `will you help
me in the shower? I wouldn't want to miss getting any of the soap off.' He
dragged me over to the shower stall, scene of our assignation only three
days before, how long ago that seemed to be. This time round the situation
was reversed, Paul was about as naked a boy can get, and I was still
wearing my pants. We stood facing each other under the spray of hot water,
I couldn't fail to be aware of his prick, as it pressed insistently against
my own erection, and I reached down and ran my hand up and down his length,
then curled my fingers round his ball sack and up between his
legs. Kneeling down in the shower stall, I used one hand to rinse the last
remnants of the shaving cream from between his cheeks, and the other to
feed his rampant cock into my waiting mouth. Paul grabbed my hair and
pulled my head further onto him, any more and I'd be gagging on his
manhood, still, I wasn't complaining.
        Once I had cleaned the shaving foam off him to my own satisfaction,
reluctantly I disengaged and stood up, my own soaked pants clinging to my
stiff prick, which hitherto hadn't had that much attention. Paul, who was
not an unselfish boy, soon set about remedying that situation, massaging my
cock through the wet material, before gently stripping my saturated pants
off me and taking my erection in hand. I let him work on me for a bit,
although I had my own ideas about how and when I was going to come.

        Eventually, I spoke gently to him; `We'd better get out of here,
they'll be back from Church in half an hour or so.'

        `Ok,' he said, and letting go of me, he turned the shower off. I
wrapped a towel round him, and briskly rubbed him down.

        `Right, lotion time,' I said, `lie down on the table please.' I
spread the towel out and obediently he climbed up on the table and spread
himself out on his back, his cock looming large from his denuded
crotch. Climbing onto the table alongside him, I spread some lotion on my
hands, and gently massaged it into his newly shaved skin. Once I had got a
generous layer on him I rubbed some more into his hot and hard cock, the
feeling as it slipped through my greasy fingers was fantastic, and I could
see from the usual signs that Paul was well on the way to blowing his
load. I picked up one of Paul's limp hands and squirted a little lotion
into it, by way of a gentle hint; a moment later he grabbed my prick in his
slippery hand and we masturbated together for a short while.

        `I need to do your crack,' I said hoarsely, `roll over.' Once
again, Paul did what I said, and rolled over onto his front, obligingly
sticking his butt up in the air. Grabbing the lotion bottle, I squirted a
generous dollop onto his butt, as the creamy white fluid trickled down his
crack and over the pucker of his anus, it looked like come already. I moved
up behind him, and rubbed some of the lotion into the base of his balls and
his cock as they dangled. My own greasy cock was now bumping against his
inner thighs and it didn't take much effort for me lift it up and press it
against his butt. Lubricated by the abundant lotion, I began to rock gently
back and forwards, my cock sliding slowly up and down his crack, each time
the tip rubbed across his anus Paul moaned in pleasure. I was well on the
way too, and began to move more quickly, my cock rubbing ever more roughly
against him as I could feel myself starting to reach the point of no
return. I gave a last thrust and then at last I came in torrents all over
his crack, my spunk spurting and mingling with the lotion. I leaned back,
spunk still dribbling from my dick and watched fascinated as my jizz ran
down over his dangling balls.

        Unable to resist, I reached through between his legs with one hand
and clasped his now ultra slippy cock, with the other, I began to
delicately move my fingers in the mixed lotion and sperm slurry in his
crack. As I wanked him, I gently ran my index finger round and round his
pucker, and if it slipped in and out a little with all that lubrication,
who can tell? Paul was too far-gone with pleasure to object, or even notice
and I'm not telling.

        It didn't take much more effort on my part to bring Paul to a
climax, as beads of sweat began to spring out on his forehead, I brutally
flipped him onto his back and speeded up my pumping on his greasy cock,
paying special attention to the now purple tip. As I worked, his back
arched as the first splashes of spunk erupted from his cock, followed by
several more gushes as he came copiously. I gathered up a dollop of jizz
and anointed his forehead in the customary fashion, a moment later he did
the same to me.

        As soon as my shaky legs allowed me, I climbed down off the table
and wandering over, I turned the shower on. Paul was still lying on his
back, his diminishing cock still oozing spunk onto his flat stomach. `Get
up, you lazy beast,' I shouted, `come over here and we can get cleaned up
before the others get back.'

        Slowly he got up off the table, his lean body was liberally
spattered with our come and the lotion. I hauled him into the shower, and
once again I soaped and cleaned him. This was getting to be a habit, not
that I was complaining. As we were running out of time, my attentions were
more efficient than erotic, and after cleaning us both down again, I
dragged him out of the shower and briskly towelled him dry. I thought it
was only fair to lotion him up again, although I was much less generous
than I had been previously.

        `There you go,' I said, patting his naked butt, `smoother than a
babies bottom.'

        `Ha, ha,' he replied sarcastically, very funny. `Still,' he
continued, running an exploratory hand over his denuded genitals, `I reckon
you did a good job, I'll come again.'

        `Bet you will,' I agreed, `we've got two days and nights out in the
wilderness to look forward to, if you recall.'

        `Oh yes,' he said, his face lighting up again, `so we have.'

        Any further banter was interrupted by the return of the warden's
rattly old landrover, Paul pulled his pyjama bottoms back on and ambled
back to his hut to dress properly, leaving me to clear up the mess of
soaked towels and mop the floor. After I'd cleaned up, I dressed and made
my way back to the dining room, as I'd expected, the Church party were
returning and I rejoined my companions. A little later, Paul arrived, and
announced that he was much better and fully able to participate again.
After the excitement of the morning our day subsided into routine, however,
the knowledge that we were to be given details of the orienteering at
supper, gave a frisson to the day.


That story, gentle reader, will have to wait for another day.