Date: Thu, 19 Oct 2023 11:14:44 +0000 From: Scotnat Subject: The Good Die Young 3 Here is chapter 3 of The Good Die Young. I hope that the reader will enjoy these tales of school in an age now long gone. If you do, please don't forget to make a contribution to Nifty, so enable people to enjoy this wonderful website for many years to come. The Good Die Young, by Scotnat Chapter 3 Second year began and I was now in 2A. It felt like starting out all over again. Apart from Peter and Gavin, there was no-one in that class that I knew. As I had surmised on the very first day of first year, they had all gone to primary schools in the town; indeed, the majority of them had come up through the Academy's own primary department, which occupied the whole ground floor corridor in the new extension building and was strictly out of bounds to all secondary pupils. Being from the Academy Prep, as it was called, more or less guaranteed everyone an automatic place in 1A. Having been promoted from 1B, I fully expected to find myself at the tail end of my new class, but this turned out not to be the case. Having had first prize in 1B, by the end of second year I found myself in contention for first prize in 2A. This did not go down well with some of the other boys and resulted in a certain amount of bullying later on. But enough of that for now. I now was able to spend more time in Peter's company. In classes where there was a free choice of seat, I always tried to sit beside him and was often successful in that. Peter was friendly enough and I was always included in whatever group activity he might be getting into. As my sexuality was now developping quickly, sitting close to him had an interesting effect on me, although I never noticed any similar reaction from Peter. And we did sit close, for the school was equipped with the same type of double desks that had been in use since Victorian times or before. Judging by the amount of graffiti scrawled all over them, they were many years old! I didn't really develop any other friendships with boys in that class, although I liked some of the girls. After a time it would have been true to say that Peter and I were best friends, and remained so for the next four years. Without ever articulating it to myself (let alone anyone else) I always had a hankering to get even closer to him, but it never happened. I concluded regretfully that he wasn't interested in me in that way. There were other interesting characters in that class. There was a girl called Virginia, for instance. Already in second year she had the reputation of being the class bicycle. "Virginia, virgin for short but not for long," one wag remarked about her. Poor girl! I suspect most of it came from the more lurid imaginations of some of the boys. Looking back, I'm pretty certain that she was just gregariously friendly, and I'm sure she must have wondered why so many of the boys behaved strangely around her! Then there was John Littlewood. Already at age 13, he was sexually developped and a total exhibitionist. I became aware of this the first time 2A went to the gym for PE. The boys and girls had separate gyms at opposite ends of the building. You went down several steps to go in and all the windows were high up on the walls, so no-one could see in from outside. The boys' PE master was an elderly (or at least, so it seemed) retired army captain who carried himself very erect and was very strict. Dress for the boys at PE was white cotton shorts and no shirts -- everyone bare to the waist! I soon discovered that most of the boys wore their gym shorts under their trousers all day and therefore didn't bother with underpants at the same time; so you had thirty or more boys all in a state of considerable undress, nearly all wearing just one garment and gym shoes. The Captain was in the habit of setting group work going around the gym hall then disappearing into his office, leaving us to it. We didn't know why, although a lot of colourful guessing went on! It couldn't happen now, of course, but everything was much less regulated in those days. Most things ran on trust. So the first time this happened and we were left unsupervised in the gym, I became aware of John Littlewood strolling catwalk-style down the middle of the hall and pushing his shorts slowly further and further down till his private parts were completely exposed. I'm afraid I gawped, because he had the biggest penis I had ever seen in my life, certainly much bigger than mine. He wasn't erect, it just hung down there but was bigger than mine would have been when erect. He turned and strolled in the other direction and I got a good look at his bum as well. It was very shapely! When the Captain came back, John was at the other end of the hall. He took his time covering up, as if he were totally unconcerned about the possibility of being caught. In the Latin class, John was more interested in his cock than in the subject. The ancient double desks had a lid which lifted and a book space underneath. At one time they had been supplied with locks but these had been removed, leaving a square hole about an inch and a half across. It was nothing unusual to see John Littlewood with his erect penis pushed through that hole. He sat near the back and the teacher never moved from the front so he never got caught, but everyone else knew he was doing it. He was also keen to know how much he was growing; on at least one occasion I saw him measuring his length with a ruler and whispering the result across to Virginia, who seemed very interested. Maybe I was wrong and all the other boys were right about her! Back in the gym, there was another occasion when the Captain left us doing group work and disappeared. I was in a group working with skipping ropes, and another boy, Scott, and I decided to play cowboys and indians. Lacking a totem pole, I was lashed to the wall bars with a skipping rope and stood there helpless while Scott danced a war dance around me. "Come 'ere, you boys!" The load roar came from across the gym. The Captain had come back. Scott ran across and stood quaking in front of him. "I said, come here, sonny!" even louder. "But sir," I called helplessly. I couldn't move because I was tied up. The Captain had a special punishment for situations like this -- a large wooden T-square, such as would have been used for technical drawing. "Bend over!" Whack! No need to make us drop our shorts, fortunately -- or perhaps, unfortunately, since the thin cotton with no underpants did nothing to soften the blow. My bum stayed sore for the rest of the day! It must have been around that time that I began to ejaculate semen myself. The first time it happened was in the toilets, which were outside in the playground. One lunchtime, two or three of us were comparing lengths and stroking a bit. I began to get "the feeling" as we all called it and a thin line of clear fluid came out and dripped to the ground. The other guys there were impressed; for once I was ahead of the field! I can't remember who was there, but I know that Peter wasn't. He seldom seemed to get involved in that kind of thing. Eventually second year drew to a close, summer holidays beckoned, and that meant Church camp again, which went back to the same farm in Eskdale as the previous year. By now, the church had acquired a new assistant curate, Rev. Alan Rawson. He was married with three young children and soon made himself very popular. He was a pleasant young man with a good sense of humour who was liked by everyone. During the winter months he had started a weekly youth club, although I never went to it. He also started a drama club which put on several successful shows over the next couple of years. Anyway, the Revd Alan came on the camp with us. Space in the large, ex-army tents was at a premium that year, and Alan had to sleep in the same tent as several of the youth contingent, including myself, Peter and Gavin. To be fair, the four other boys in the tent were older than us, but nowadays it would be inconceivable for an adult to share a tent with boys. In those days things were much more innocent! One day we had gone swimming in the river, had a great time, and Revd Alan took part. When we all got cold we went back to our tent to get dried and dressed. We took our time over this and there was a lot of good natured banter going on. Some of us noticed that Revd Alan had stopped taking part and was sitting on his paliasse bed with his head in his hands. He looked as if he was in pain or suffering something. I saw that he had put on his t-shirt and taken off his swimming trunks but had not yet put on his pants and trousers. He was being very discreet about changing, but I could see clearly that he was very erect. When we discussed it later, out of adult earshot, we discovered that several of us had spotted his hard-on. We laughed about it a bit but never considered the implications. It wasn't until years later, after he had moved away to another parish, that we heard that he had left his wife and moved to America. Later on still it became common knowledge that he was gay and now had a male companion. No wonder he'd had a hard-on while swimming with a crowd of scantily clad teenaged boys! No doubt the groaning that I had noticed was him wrestling with his conscience and his sexuality.