Date: Wed, 22 Jul 2015 11:41:28 +0800
From: Anon
Subject: Arberry (gay young friends)

ARBERRY
AN INNOCENT ABROAD
  Our dormitory consisted of five bunk beds interspersed with cupboards and
desks, which made it appear like five separate units. It was my first day
in boarding school, and I had been assigned a top bunk, on top of a boy
called E. W. Arberry. I was a spindly thirteen-year old, who had lived a
very protected life, now abandoned among strange privileged boys in a
privileged institution of education. Having drifted about all afternoon in
a state of alienation, having eaten dinner, and then sat quietly in front
of the communal box watching rubbish that I usually never would watch, I
eventually found myself alone at my desk, getting undressed for bed. I had
just removed my shirt and undervest when in breezed a petit boy with
sunbleached blond page hair, sky blue eyes, and an elfish grin. Toffee skin
and lips like wet cherries. He stretched out his hand and introduced
himself. Arberry. I was Rideau. We shook hands, and then he stripped down
to his white underpants almost in one go. He loosened his tie, undid the
buttons of his shirt, and then wriggled out, leaving shirt, tie, and jumper
still as one. Shoes and socks went together, and his trousers weren't even
properly undone before he was out of them. Before I was done, he had
crawled into bed in his underpants, and grinning at me, had pulled them off
under his duvet, and put them under his pillow. `Pyjamas are an
abomination,' he declared. I turned to face the cupboard, in a futile
attempt to preserve my modesty. I noted that no other boy was so concerned.
Having got dressed, I then pulled back my duvet and was about to climb up,
when Arberry sat up and yanked down the front of my pyjama bottoms. `Don't
do that!' I hissed, and then pulled them up. He giggled, `Just a gander,
old boy, that's all. No need to get huffy.' I climbed up into bed; lay
there fuming; watched four boys examining each other's genitalia and
laughing. One was sitting in an upper bunk, showing off an erection. I
supposed I had reacted like an old maid. I stuck my head down.
  `Sorry I got all shirty, Arberry... Sorry... I've never, never...'
  He looked at me, and then he grinned. `That's all right, Dodo.' He stuck
up his hand: `I was a new boy once. I know what it's like.' And we shook
hands again. His smile was genuinely sweet, and my annoyance melted away.
  He pulled back his duvet and revealed a small, curved erection and two
tiny balls almost hidden. `See? No pubes. It hasn't even straightened out
yet. So I wanted to see yours.' He grinned. `You've got pubes, Dodo, a
beauty.' What were pubes? Did I dare ask? I just nodded. I thought it
rather naughty for him to sleep naked, and to show me his erection.
Clearly, there were other standards here.
  I lay back, and waited for what next. Dodo, dead as a dodo. Rideau,
Ri-deau, deau-deau, Dodo. Very clever. I supposed that was my name from now
on. Not bad. Deau-Deau. Better than Riddy or Row. The prefect walked in and
began to talk to everyone. When he came to Arberry, he laughed: `So he's
back, the little elf!' And he pulled back Arberry's duvet, `Still sleeping
in the buff, I see!' And everyone laughed. Arberry shrieked with laughter
and tugged at his duvet. He wasn't ashamed to be naked in front of
everyone, not even with a hard-on. Then it was lights out, and silence. But
not for long. Traffic between the beds. What for? Games? Torture the new
boys?
  Arberry's head appeared. `Wanna come down, Dodo?' No, I didn't, but I
thought I'd better do as everyone else. He didn't look like a torturer. So
I climbed down and into bed with the naked elf. We sat in the corner, out
of sight, with our legs pulled up under his duvet. He was more than a year
younger than I but in the same class, `cause he'd skipped a class. He'd
been at boarding school for two years. I told him I'd received private
tuition, `cause we lived out in the countryside. He asked me what I thought
the other boys were doing together. I didn't know, some kind of game? Yes,
he said. One cue and two balls. What was that? Wanking. I didn't know what
wanking was, but I didn't dare say so, so I just pretended. `Wanking?' Yes.
I could hear titters from other beds.
  `Shall I give you a wank, Dodo?'
  `What?'
  `Shall I give you a wank?'
  `I don't know.'
  `You don't know what a wank is, do you, Dodo?'
  I blushed in the dark. `No, I don't.' Elsewhere in the dark, a boy gave a
little cry of pleasure, and then titters and whispering.
  `Tossing off? Spanking the monkey? Masturbation?'
  `Not part of my curriculum', I shook my head in the dark.
  `Well, it's a major subject on the curriculum here, old boy. Night
manoeuvres. Jerking off? Jacking off? Auto-eroticism? Frigging?
Self-stimulation? Not even "self-abuse"? Expatiated upon by your vicar, in
the vestry after service—the divestry?' The vicar? I was an utter
ignoramus. Arberry used such grandiose words, and (as I later discovered)
was a dictionary regarding sex. He'd found an encyclopaedia on sex in his
parent's library. Every term in the book was known to him: women, men,
boys, girls, homosexual, heterosexual, even bestiality. He knew words like
catamite, urolagnia, and autoerotic asphyxiation.
  `Wanking allows a boy to enjoy erotic arousal, orgasm, and when he's of
age, even ejaculation. It's his first taste of pleasure beyond mere
rice-pud and jelly with custard. Wanking is the first taste of
independence, and transports him out of the sandbox into adulthood. It is
the pleasure and privilege of boys throughout history and throughout the
world.' Bloody hell, he was a year younger than me, and could talk like
that. I chuckled, he laughed out loud.
  `No more sermonizing, Dodo. D'you wanna try?' He squeezed my thigh. I
didn't want to start off by being a wet blanket, so I said all right, but
did it hurt?
  `Hurt? Don't be daft. It's the opposite of hurt. It's ecstasy,
rapturous.' I chuckled again. `It's a bit naughty.' Oh God, what did that
mean? `I need to touch your thingy.' My what? `Your willy, silly.' Touch
it? Why? `Wanking is manipulation of one's thingy till one gets an orgasm...
Have you never had an orgasm, Dodo?' All these new words. I had no idea
what he was on about. My father hadn't told me about any of all this. I
could hear a boy moaning, uh, uh, uh.
  `What do I have to do?' He told me to lie down, and I lay down. Then he
opened my pyjama jacket and ran his hands up and down my torso. His hands
were very soft. Then he whispered into my ear that he was going to undo my
pyjama bottoms. `All right?' All right. And he undid the cord and whispered
into my ear to raise my bum. I raised my bum and he pulled off my pyjama
bottoms. Off. My bottom half was naked. He ran his hands up and down my
bare thighs and I felt my willy swell up. I was nervous but this was
something else. His silken hands were magic. When he grasped my willy I
gasped. He caressed my willy with gentle expertise, and gently squeezed my
balls. Soon I was panting. Then he pulled back the foreskin very slowly.
The dark form of his head was bent over my crotch, his locks tickled. He
leaned over, his face right beside mine, and I could make out his smile.
How sweet he looked! And he whispered: `It's big and straight and
beautiful, Dodo.' And he touched my glans penis with a finger, rubbing
round the goo that had gathered there, rubbing round under the corona. When
he rubbed the frenulum, I cried out and ejaculated. And again, and again.
Breathless I lay back, panting. Had everyone heard me? No one said
anything. Perhaps cries of ecstasy were no big deal. Like showing off your
thingy, even when it was hard.
  Arberry moved up and retrieved a torch from under his pillow. He shone
the light onto my stomach. There was a pool of white goo. And spattered on
my breast. His hand was still wrapped round my willy. He giggled quietly
and squeezed more out of my willy. Dipped a finger into the goo. Shone the
light onto his hand, wrapped round my willy, with gobs of goo. He studied
the goo very carefully, played around with it.
  He glanced at me and giggled again. `Real, bonafide boy sperm. The seed
of life. Sperm.' Sperm. That was sperm. Then he told me to hold the torch,
and with his free hand pulled his underpants out from under my head.
Raucous laughter erupted from the dark. `Up my arse! Up my arse!' a boy
chanted. And then more laughter. Arberry wiped his hand clean with his
underpants, and then my willy, and then my stomach and my breast. Held his
stained underpants into the light. Whispered into my ear: `Now matron's
going to think I had a wet dream, Dodo. My first wet dream', and he
giggled, `your sperm. Your sperm in my underpants.' And we both giggled. I
didn't even know what a wet dream was. He hung his underpants onto the
footboard of his bed and then lay beside me. I was still hard, and we just
lay there snuggling, he caressing my genitals, especially my balls.
  I felt I owed him one, so I offered to give him a wank. `No'.
  `Why not?'
  `I don't want anyone to touch my willy.'
  `You gave me a wank, why can't I give you a wank? I want to, you know.'
  `No. I don't want you to. I don't want you to touch my willy.' I didn't
pursue the matter. Just ran my fingers through his silken hair as he
caressed my genitals. Soon he fell asleep, and I climbed up into my own
bed, my willy hard as stone, and my pyjama bottoms in my hand. I put them
on and then touched myself like Arberry had done. But nothing happened. So
I went to sleep, the dormitory quiet as the grave now.
  Next morning, I saw boys strip off and stand unabashed with their morning
erection, as they got dressed and talked, Arberry too, with his little
worm. So I stripped and stood naked like everyone else as I put my clothes
on. Arberry held up his underpants and winked at me, and we both laughed
out loud. He put them on and whispered: `My wet dream, dry now.' As we
walked off to breakfast, I told him I didn't know what a wet dream was, or
pubes. So he explained. And he told me I still didn't know what wanking was
because he hadn't had a chance to wank me the night before, I'd come before
he'd even begun.
  `So that wasn't wanking?'
  `No, old chap, that was just the preliminaries. And then pow! An
elephantine ejaculation!' So that was ejaculation. At breakfast, we sat at
different tables, but we could see each other. And Arberry made faces at
me. I had made friends with a devilishly cute elf.

AFTERNOON TEA
At lunch, Arberry told me he had some teacake from home. He told me to be
ready after school to rush off with him, and we'd have tea in the
tree-house. He told me to put on gym clothes, `cause we'd have to climb up.
In those days, boys didn't have to cover up every sign of boyhood, so for
gym we'd wear little white cotton shorts that were real shorts leaving our
thighs bare, and then a white shirt with long sleeves and the school logo.
The bell rang, and we charged out of class and up to our room and changed,
and then tore off. Arberry had the cake in a tin and a large thermos with
tea that he'd prepared at lunch time, replete with milk and sugar. He
carried them in a bag. The tree house was accessed by a rope hanging down,
and when the rope was up, it meant the house was occupied. Boys could book
it an hour at a time. We climbed up, secured the rope, and then in and sat
on the planked floor. It was quite big. Four or five boys would have fitted
easily. And then it was teacake gorging time, washed down with hot sweet
tea. I got the big outer cup of the flask and Arberry took the inner little
one. The cake done, I sat back with my second cup of tea. Arberry sat
beside me and put his hand on my thigh, right up by my crotch. `I want to
give you a proper wank.' He slid his hand inside the leghole and into my
underpants and fondled my genitals. Titillation. I was aroused at once.
  `What shall I do?'
  `Just drink your tea.' And he tugged at my shorts. I lifted my bum and he
pulled off my shorts and underpants. Then he took my cup and put it on the
floor and pulled off my shirt. He gave me my cup back and then spread my
legs and kneeled between them, caressing my genitals, his head down, those
blond locks concealing his face, only his little ears sticking out. There I
was, stark naked except for my shoes and socks, with a belly full of
teacake, sipping hot sweet tea, and this elfin boy giving me expert
caresses. As he caressed, he studied my genitals very closely. Watched
carefully as he pulled the foreskin slowly up and down, and pre-cum
appeared. That was Cowper's fluid, he explained. It came before
ejaculation. I finished my tea, feeling hot and lustful, and leaned back
against the wall. And now he began to wank me properly, his hand sliding up
and down. It was my first time, and I was fascinated by his delicate hand
going up and down, the glans appearing and disappearing, glistening with
Cowper's fluid. With his free hand, he caressed my balls, and then slid his
hand down and fingered my arsehole. That was super sexy. It sent a tingle
up my body, and reflexively, I spread my legs further, and began to pant.
Soon I felt again the burning sensation at the bottom of my spine and then
the explosion up my spine and throughout my body, and I cried out again,
splashing sperm onto my face and chest, again and again. It just kept
coming, he kept pulling, I was out of breath, and then it stopped. Just the
squelch of Arberry's hand pulling up and down, and my heavy panting. He was
smirking with delight. There seemed to be sperm everywhere. When the tickly
sensation became un-bearable. I grabbed his wrist: `Stop, stop, no more.'
He stopped and giggled, raising his stained hand, still connected to my
willy by a string of sperm. He wound it round a finger.
  `You shot seven times, seven times! My champion!' And he leaned forward
and studied the gobs of sperm on his hand, sniffed them. `Nearly no smell.'
Gingerly, he put his lips to his fingers. Stuck his tongue out and licked
up a bit of sperm, grinning at me as he did so. I just giggled. Then he
licked up some more, and then he gave his hand a full lick with his tongue.
Showed me his sperm-covered tongue, swirled it round in his mouth like a
wine-taster, and then swallowed. `Aaaah!' We both giggled.
  `Tastes like soap. Sweet but definitely a tinge of Pears Soap.' He licked
his hand clean.
  `Yum, yum. Boy milk... no, cream. Boy cream.' He grasped my gooey willy and
with his hand pulled off all the sperm.
  `Wanna taste?' All right. And I licked his hand clean. We were both
giggling. `More?' And he licked the sperm off my face and then my body. He
sat on my chest and pressed his lips to mine, pushed with his tongue, I
opened my mouth, and he let sperm flow from open mouth to open mouth. We
both gulped, and then fell into fits of laughter. Arberry on top of me, his
hair tickling my face.
  `Teacake with boy cream! Cream with your cake, Sir? Yes, please. Cow
cream or boy cream, Sir? Boy cream, please.' And we roared with laughter.
`There you are, Sir, fresh boy cream. Just milked the kitchen boy.' And we
shrieked, tears streaming down. `Just milked the milkboy!' Aaah! And we
shrieked. `No milkmaids at our establishment, Sir, only milkboys!' Aaaah!
`Milch boys!' Eventually we ran out of jokes and fell silent. I could feel
his little erection, but he wouldn't let me touch it. Arberry looked at his
watch. There were fifteen minutes left. Time for another go. And he set to
work. I felt him slide a sticky finger into my arse. And almost immediately
again I ejaculated, four times, but only onto my chest and stomach.
Quickly, he licked it off his hand and my body, and even licked it off my
willy, and sucked the glans clean. That was electrifying, but he pulled
away, to lick sperm off my inner thigh. He held it all in his mouth and
then we pressed our lips together and shared it. Then he pulled on my
shorts as I pulled on my shirt. We checked each other for traces of sperm
and then sat quietly watching each other.
  `You stuck your finger up my bum.'
  He giggled. `Only one joint.' He smirked, shiny eyes, and pouty lips
glistening. `I sucked your thingy. The glans... glans penis.'
  I giggled. `Any time, old boy. Any time.' And we laughed.
  Again he smirked. `Wasn't really aware of it. Busy cleaning up.' He
looked at me with those shiny blue eyes, and the long blond eyelashes. `It
felt nice in my mouth. Warm and smooth.' We giggled affectionately.
  I ruffled his hair. I wanted to tell him I loved him. `I thought I'd
ejaculate again.'
  He giggled. `In my mouth. Ejaculate into my mouth. Suck and shoot, suck
and shoot.' He said it was called fellatio or a blowjob.
  `I've never done it before... I know some boys who suck each other off.'
He wouldn't say who. Cries outside. Our time was up, and we climbed down
the rope. I climbed down to a different world. I'd been wanked, I'd eaten
my own sperm, another boy had stuck his finger up my arse, he'd sucked my
thingy, and I'd loved it all. I wanted to kiss him and hug him, but that
was poofy, wasn't it? Could the other boys see what we'd been up to?
Arberry said they'd all go up and do things. Yes, but did they love each
other? I was elated and scared. He walked ahead of me, and I looked at his
thighs and his little bum as it rocked. I wanted to kiss him and ruffle his
pretty hair and make him laugh. Oh God, how was I going to control myself?
We ran back to our room.
  That night, in the dark, Arberry sucked me off. Languorously, he sucked
my balls one by one, sucked his way up and down the side of my willy, and I
caressed his head of silken hair, and fingered his little ears. When
finally he sucked my glans, he also probed my arsehole with a finger, and I
could barely stifle a cry as I exploded into his mouth. It felt like an
electric shock, and then it was unbearably ticklish. I whined into his ear:
`Stop, stop, stop, please.' And he stopped and raised his head and our open
mouths met, Arberry rolled his tongue round inside my mouth, our tongues
played in one another's mouths, hot and slippery. Arberry moved up and lay
on top of me, and we snogged, our breath spermy, our lips sticky, and our
mouths hot and slippery. He said that was French kissing, snogging, sucking
face, soul kissing. He'd learned it from his sister. I ran my hands through
his hair and down his back and caressed his tight little buttocks, and
slipped my hand in between us and caressed the hard little bulge that was
pressing on my abdomen. He pulled my hand away, so I fingered his little
arsehole instead.
  The next day again we had tea in the tree. This time it was biscuits from
home. We munched and crunched and sipped our sweet tea. Ten biscuits each
and then a second cuppa. Arberry gobbled his tea down and then tugged at my
shorts, but today I stopped him. He had to be naked too.
  `Why?' I felt stupid being naked alone. All right, and quick as a flash,
he tore off his shorts and underpants and then his shirt and kneeled down
and pulled almost frantically at my shorts. To this day, I remember the
frenzy with which he pulled my shorts down my legs and off, and then my
underpants, and then my shirt, his blond locks waving to and fro as he
tugged and pulled, and then he kneeled between my thighs, and almost as in
worship, mouthed my loins. I put down my empty cup and watched his long
locks swing, tickling my thighs, as he kissed and sucked and licked my
groin, a finger probing my arsehole. I sat up and caressed his back, and
then made him move over to the side, so I could caress his bare buttocks.
Small, tight, and so smooth, I wanted to kiss them. I lay down and then
manoeuvred him round so his arse was over my face, and then I caressed his
buttocks and kissed them and, of course, eventually, I spread his buttocks
and kissed his hairless little arsehole. Hungrily, slobbering, I spread his
buttocks and sucked and licked his cute little arsehole. There was no sound
but the soughing of the wind and Arberry's and my sucking and panting.
Sucking Arberry's arse kept me pre-occupied, so the sensations of his hot
mouth were not so overpowering, and it took longer before I ejaculated.
Pressing my lips to his arsehole, I cried out as I climaxed and felt my
sperm surge through my urethra into his hot mouth. I slurped greedily at
his arse while he sucked on, but then I pressed my cheek against his
buttock and cried for him to stop. And he stopped. He turned round and we
snogged, sperm and saliva and slippery tongues and moans and my hands
caressing those tight little buttocks. Eventually, we'd swallowed the sperm
and licked each other's faces clean, and lay smiling in one another's arms,
looking into one another's eyes. Mine green, his blue. `I love you' was on
the tip of my tongue, but I left it there. I was fondling his back and his
buttocks, he was fondling my genitals and my perinaeum.
  `That's your perinaeum. It's super smooth. It's probably the smoothest
place of your body.' He rubbed my perinaeum. I rubbed his. It was amazingly
smooth.
  `It's between your anus and your scrotum.' I nodded and rubbed his anus.
And he giggled and rubbed my anus. And we lay there rubbing each other's
anus.
  `D'you know what buggery is?'
  I shook my head. `My father says "bugger" when he's annoyed. But he gets
annoyed if I say "bugger" when I'm annoyed.'
  `Parents are the first hypocrites in a person's life... Does your father
say "sod it"?'
  `Yes, he does. And "blast" and "hell" and "bloody" and "blinking" and
"blooming".'
  `Do you know what "sod" means?'
  `It comes from "sodomy".'
  `What's sodomy?'
  Again I shook my head. It had something to do with the sins of the cities
of the plain.
  `Sodomy is the same as buggery. Up one's bum.' Up one's bum?
  `If you bugger me, you stick your thingy up my bum.' Did he want me to
stick my thingy up his bum?
  `It feels good.' How did he know?
  `I stick my finger in when I masturbate.' Into his bum? Yes. We both
giggled. Up your bum. Stick your finger up your bum. Now, boys, I want you
all to stick your finger up your bum. Ready? And soon we were rolling about
giggling, pressing each other's anus with a finger. `Up your bum, up your
bum.'
  `Homos like doing it.' We weren't homos. No, but the sensation itself
wasn't homosexual, was it?
  `You need to lubricate your finger.' How did he know?
  `The doctor gave me an enema once. He said you have to lubricate the
nozzle, with Vaseline. I tried lubricating my finger and it slid right in.'
Right up his bum. And we giggled uncontrollably. He drummed his fingers on
my anus. I caressed his lovely buttocks.
  `D'you wanna try?' We hadn't got any Vaseline.
  `Oh, you can use anything. I've used butter, olive oil, soap, anything
really. Spit isn't very good. I think sperm would be good.' We'd drunk it
all. Bottoms up! Haaaaah! Bottoms up! Up your bottom! And we giggled
wildly. Where's the cream? Cat drank it? No Sir, boy drank it. Drank all
the cream. Jolly nice too. Warm and gooey. Haaaaah! Bottoms up!
  Arberry sat up and squeezed my willy. It was still hard. Cowper's fluid
oozed out. `We can use this. It's nice and gooey.' And he put a blob on his
finger. Then he pulled back my left leg, so my knee touched my breast, and
he rubbed Cowper's fluid onto my anus. Then he squeezed more fluid out onto
his fingertip.
  `Ready?' I grinned and nodded. And he slid his middle finger up one
joint. It wouldn't go any further. More Cowper's fluid and it slid nicely
up my arse. It felt really sexy.
  `There, it's all in.' And he wriggled his finger. And then he slid it in
and out. I gasped.
  He grinned. `I'm buggering you with my finger.' I just smiled. I wanted
to kiss him, it was so sweet. Did he want me to bugger him with my finger
too? And he smiled and pulled one leg back to give me access. And then we
lay in one another's arms, buggering each other with a finger. It was super
naughty, and our breath was erratic. Then he bent over and begun to suck my
willy. Aaah, heaven. And cries outside. We'd spent practically the whole
hour canoodling. `Bugger!' That had a new meaning now, and again we got the
giggles, `bugger, bugger, bugger', frantically pulling on our clothes. By
the time we'd climbed down, our erections had subsided, and we ran back to
the house. We hurled ourselves onto my bed and just lay there watching each
other. I was now aware of my anus. We'd broken a taboo and we both knew it.
And I knew I was going to bugger him for real sooner or later. But where?
The treehouse was fully booked for the rest of the week. It was getting
colder and soon we'd really not be able to use it.
  Our nightly romps were more advanced now. Arberry would position himself
on his hands and knees arsy-versy, with his bum over my face. Then he'd
fellate me, while I'd caress his buttocks and suck and lick and probe his
anus with my tongue. He said it was called anilingus or rimming. After a
while, I'd be leaking Cowper's fluid and we'd use it as lubricant to bugger
each other with a finger. But Arberry said we couldn't do the real thing,
`cause it would make the bed creak too much. We could play around all
right, but full fledged buggery was not socially acceptable, even among
randy schoolboys. Even anilingus was dodgy. He then instructed me always to
make sure my anus was clean before going to bed, and if not, I should tell
him. So now there were two schoolboys every evening washing their anus in
the one lavatory that had a washbasin in its cubicle. After a while, we
buggered each other with two fingers instead of only one. And now, when I
had filled his mouth with sperm, and we'd have a good long spermy snog,
Arberry would lie in my arms and wank himself. I'd bugger him with two
fingers and rub his perinaeum. He'd have a dry orgasm, and then we'd
cuddle. By now, I was obsessed with his boy bottom. I could barely keep my
hands off it. He never objected. He'd merely smile seductively, and moan:
`More, more, more.'
  One morning, he woke me up before the bell. `Look, Dodo, look!' I looked
down, and his thingy was hard as usual but it was no longer curved. It was
straight, like mine. He grinned as he pulled back the foreskin. `It's
straight! Look!' Maybe he'd let me suck it now, but no, it was still too
small. But with the speed that boys sometimes develop in, his thingy grew
as did his balls. Within months, he'd developed a sizable willy. He was
absolutely delighted. Now I was allowed to suck him off, but still his
orgasms were dry.
  Other than our nightly romps, it was almost impossible for us to have
sex. The treehouse was now out of bounds, so all we had was the occasional
snog and suck in a lavatory, very hasty, very dangerous. The showers were
especially dangerous because they were communal and completely open. A
sleep-over was imperative. His place was the better because his parents
went out a lot. My mother was home most of the time. So we arranged for me
to visit during one week-end, shortly after the Christmas hols.

AND BE THANKFUL
  His family lived in a huge mansion, smack in the middle of London. We
could walk to Harrods. His room was huge too, with bathroom en suite,
overlooking the garden. And wonder of wonders, there was a double bed,
because now they used his room as a guest room when he was away. A spare
single bed folded out of a cupboard. As expected and hoped for, his parents
were getting dressed to go out for dinner, and wouldn't be back till after
midnight. His sister was back¬packing round the world, so we had the house
to ourselves. We were given a substantial sum of money to order a takeaway
dinner, and Arberry ordered Chinese and scrumptious ice-cream. I'd never
tried Chinese before. We sat on the floor in his room, gorging ourselves. I
wanted to strip and get on with it at once, but I was the guest, so I kept
quiet. After dinner, Arberry made coffee, and we sat on the little sofa and
watched a Western on TV. I didn't give a damn about the shenanigans on the
screen, I wanted to suck Arberry's bum, I wanted to snog him. He sat in my
lap and my hands were roaming inside his trousers. At last the damned film
was over. The hero rode off and the woman waved, and the bad guy lay on the
ground dead. Arberry switched off the TV and went over and locked the door.
He stood before me with his willy sticking out of his fly, and I was ready
to pounce. He flipped his willy and cried: `Let the games begin!' And we
both stripped at super speed, and then ran into the bathroom, for a long
and sexy shower, where we snogged and snogged and snogged, and washed each
other, especially our bottoms. Buggered each other with soapy fingers. And
then with his bedside lamp dimmed down to romantic, we had another long
snogging session on the double bed.
  God, how I loved him! I felt I wanted to eat him alive. Those pouty wet
lips, and the heart-mel¬ting grin, and our intense affection for each
other. My hands ran over his tight little buttocks, and in between, and
then I made him lie on his stomach. Lay down behind him on the big bed, and
spread his legs. Rubbed my face in his buttocks, kissed them, and then,
wonder of wonders, I spread them gently. There, the little star, his
gorgeous little anus, all mine, yum, yum. I kissed his anus, sniffed it,
moaning as I probed it with my tongue, slurping loudly as I sucked it. It
opened slightly, and I burrowed my tongue inside. Delirious, I sucked and
slurped, and Arberry was moaning and shifting his head from side to side,
one hand reaching back to ruffle my hair over and over. I turned him over
and then sucked his little willy and his balls, but he pushed me down, and
I pushed his legs back onto his shoulders, so his face appeared smiling
between the V of his thighs, and I sucked and licked his perinaeum and then
again his anus. He was moaning quietly, rubbing his fingers through my
hair, and then he pulled me up and we snogged wildly, my face slick with my
own saliva, our mouths tasting of his arse. And he caressed my willy. It
was streaming Cowper's fluid. He grinned at me. `Buckets of lubricant.' I
nodded. Now was the time.
  Arberry sat up and scooped up fluid from my willy with a finger. With a
grin, he reached back and applied it to his anus. I said let me do the
honours. And he turned round and stuck his arse out. I leaned forward and
gave his anus a quick snog. Then I applied fluid onto his anus. My finger
slid in easily. All the way in. He said it was extreme unction, and we
began to giggle. More unction and two fingers. Easy peasy, I slid them in
and out. There was a slight squelching sound. Arberry moaned lightly. Then
he pulled at my hand and I extracted my fingers. His anus quivered. He
turned round and made me lie down. And then he manoeuvred himself over me,
one knee on either side, his arse over my crotch. He levered my willy
upright and told me to hold it. And I held it. Told me to squeeze out more
lubricant, so I squeezed out more. And he raised himself so his anus was
touching my glans penis. We exchanged glances and he grinned. `Thou shalt
not lie with schoolboyhood, as with womanhood: it is abomination.' And he
pressed his unctuous anus against my unctuous glans. I squirmed. He pressed
again, and we both cried out as he opened up and slid down my willy, right
down to my pubes. I sat up abruptly and clasped him round the waist. He
looked at me with a sort of dazed look, and whispered `Bugger!' His mouth
ajar. His arse held my willy with a burning grip. Then he placed his
forearms on my shoulders and slid up my willy slowly and then down again.
He moaned. It was electrifying. Then he slid too far up, and my willy
slipped out and slapped onto my belly. I held it up again and again he
transfixed himself, sighing loudly as he sank down. And then again his
forearms on my shoulders, and quiet moaning and I felt my willy slide in
and out of the tight heat. He gave a loud moan and then I had a long and
almost excruciating series of copious ejaculations, which left me heaving,
my forehead resting on his shoulder. He was panting, and then we snogged,
moaning all the while, our eyes open. I ran my hands down his slender back
and cupped those gorgeous little buttocks. There, my balls were just below
his anus, my whole thing was inside him. Hard as it had never been before.
And we rested head on shoulder, kissing one another's neck. We looked at
each other... and burst out laughing. `Bloody hell, Dodo, bloody hell!' He
clenched his arse, and I clenched my willy. I reached down and grasped his
willy. It was hard and sticky. I looked down.
  `Look! Sperm! You ejaculated!' I pulled back his foreskin. His glans was
covered in sperm. He'd shot a small gob of sperm onto my abdomen.
  He squealed. `I didn't know! I didn't know! It was all so... so... I came on
your tummy! Look! I came! I came! Hallelujah!' I wiped his glans clean with
two fingers and then raised it to his lips.
  `The sperm of our lecherous elf Arberry, which he has shed at his
deflowering, drink this in remembrance that he took it up his gorgeous
little arse, and be thankful.' And Arberry opened his mouth and I stuck my
fingers inside. He sucked them clean and we embraced in paroxysms of
laughter. Then we fell quiet, he clenching his arse, I clenching my willy.
With his elfish grin, he began to slide up and down again. And we snogged,
both moaning quietly. He ran his hands round and round in my hair. My hands
ran up and down his silken back and his little buttocks, touching his anus
to feel my willy disappear inside his tight heat. I slid more easily into
him now, because of the sperm inside. He reached back and fondled my balls
and fingered my anus. `It's all gooey. I must've leaked.'  And then again I
ejaculated again, although not as violently as before. I watched his lovely
face as I gasped and moaned and spurted into his arse. And then I begged
him to stop sliding up and down. He stopped and stroked my head. Did he
come?
  `Not this time.' I began to wank him.
  `No, let me off first.' And he raised himself till my willy slipped out
and slapped onto my belly. It was slick with sperm, all the way down to my
balls. He kneeled beside me, levered my willy upright, and studied it. Then
he opened his mouth and sucked it. Sucked it clean of sperm and then we
snogged, gooey and hot. I asked him to turn round, and he manoeuvred
himself into the usual position, arsy-versy, with his arse over my face.
There was a trail of white sperm going from his anus, down his perinaeum to
his scrotum, from where it had dripped down his inner thigh, ending in an
arrested glob. Hungrily, I licked my way up to his perinaeum. Then,
breathless, I spread his buttocks. His anus glistened. Noisily, I sucked it
clean. Then I spread his buttocks further and his anus opened up slightly.
More white sperm, mine in his beautiful arse. Hungrily, I sucked sperm out
of his arse. He was sucking my willy and my balls. I pressed my face in
between his buttocks and sucked and licked frantically, moaning with
disbelief. He pulled my legs back, spread them, and pushed my thighs down,
exposing my anus, and then he reciprocated. Mutual anilingus. We were both
moaning quietly. He let go of my legs, and moved back up to suck my willy.
Then he raised himself upright, turned round, and lowered his anus back
down onto my mouth. He smiled down at me, as I slurped and he wanked
himself. Then he pulled away and pointed his willy at my mouth and twice
spurted. Stuck his glans into my mouth and I sucked him clean. He moved
down and we snogged and he licked my face clean of my own saliva and his
sperm.
  `There was more this time. My own sperm.' I said it was yummy, and we
giggled. Then he lay on top of me, rubbing his face in my breast, his hair
tickling me, our willyes pressed against each other. I caressed his head
and we fell quiet. He was kissing my left nipple, I was kissing the crown
of his head. God, how I adored him.
  `I love you.' Now I'd said it. How could I refrain any longer? Hand in
hand, or rather, dick in arse, tongue in bum, we'd crossed into forbidden
territory.
  He moved up and kissed me on the lips. Grinned. `I know you love me.' We
lay there eyeing each other like the lovers we now were. `I knew when you
first rimmed me... You remember? In the treehouse. I knew then you loved
me.' He kissed me again. `But I loved you first.'
  `You did?'
  `Right from the first.' And he stroked my face. `You were much taller
than me, a real boy's body, not a child's like me, you were very handsome,
but shy and childlike. Like a timid deer. You didn't know anything. Your
face was innocent and trusting. You got angry when I pulled down your
pyjamas and looked at your lovely willy, and then d'you know what you did?'
I apologized. `Yes, you apologized. A tall and handsome boy apologizing.
You had every right to be annoyed and you apologized. We shook hands,
remember?' I nodded. `I wanted to kiss you... And you were so timid when I
suggested I toss you off. You looked adorable in the torchlight, like a
young deer not sure what to do, with that pool of sperm on your belly. I
went all jelly-like inside.' And he kissed me again on the lips.
  `I loved you already the first time we were in the treehouse.'
  `No you didn't.' Yes I did. `Sure?' I nodded. `Was it my sucking your
willy that made you love me?' No, it was afterwards.
  `When you smiled at me and told me you liked the sensation of my glans in
your mouth. You said it was nice, warm and smooth. The way you looked at me
made me want to kiss you. When we climbed down, I looked at you and sort of
hankered. I was afraid. I didn't know what it meant.'
  `This is what it meant.' And now Arberry kissed me all over my face and I
stroked his silken locks aside, again and again. We lay side by side,
cuddling in one another's arms. He was stroking my genitals and I was
stroking his heavenly buttocks.
  `You're not the only boy with a nice willy, you know.' He mentioned
several other boys. `But I don't want to suck their willies.' And he
tittered. `I want to suck only your willy. I want to kiss only you; I want
to make love only to you. Make loooove!' And he kissed me on the lips. I
nodded. A couple of other boys had lovely bottoms, but I wanted only his.
And I leaned over and kissed his buttock. Who else had a lovely bottom? And
I told him. I told him of one boy whose jeans showed his bottom off to
perfection. But I'd never seen it `in the flesh'. And who was `messing
about' with whom? There was one boy who was so obviously queer. A real
homo. Yeah, he had a nice bottom too. But he was a bit girlish. And we fell
silent. Caressed each other. Then looked at each other.
  `Are we homos?' Horror of horrors. His mum said some boys had a
homo-erotic phase in their early teens. Schoolboy crush. Just a phase.
Goodness, my mother would never talk of such a thing. Never. His sister
said it wasn't always true. She had a boyfriend, but her best friend was a
homo. He'd known since he'd was eight. He said most boys just had sex for
the sensations, they didn't fall in love. Had Arberry met her homo friend?
Yes. What was he like? He was very nice. Very handsome, not girlish at all.
His sister had asked him if he fancied Arberry, and he'd laughed. He'd said
Arberry was adorable. Arberry had blushed beet red, because he'd wanted to
ask him about buggery but didn't dare. They had all laughed good-naturedly
at his blushes. His sister called him `My sweet sweet sweet.' She then told
her homo friend he could have a go at Arberry so long as she could watch.
And again everyone laughed. `You'd like that, wouldn't you, my sweet sweet
sweet, wouldn't you?' And he'd giggled a loud yes, `But no spectators!'
  Without warning, Arberry now went down on me, keeping eye contact. The
sight of his glistening lips running up and down my willy, the sucking
sound, his silken hair in my fingers, and his silken fingers caressing my
scrotum and rubbing my perinaeum and anus, almost brought me to an orgasm.
Quickly, I pulled him up and we snogged. I folded his legs back into a V,
and sucked hungrily at his arse. It gaped and I stuck my tongue inside,
slurp. And then I buggered him for the third time that night, his sighs in
my ear, his lovely legs wrapped round me. I sucked his arse clean and then
sucked him off, and then we moved over to the single bed, to make it look
slept in. We slept like lovers, his bare buttocks pressing against my
groin, my nose in his silken hair. His last words were: `Thou shalt lie
with schoolboyhood, as with womanhood: it is a wonderation.' I squeezed him
close and kissed his hair. Was I going to tell him how I'd write his name
over and over again during prep? How I'd sit at home at the long week-ends
and dream of him, and make water colours of his name, and `I love you,
Arberry'? Paint pornographic water colours of us? The hours I'd spent
painting one of him grinning as I stuck my willy up his little bum? His
face covered in sperm?

ETORO
  I woke up for the school bell. On my back, and, oh heaven, Arberry on his
side beside me, an arm and a leg over me, only his face and shoulders
visible above the duvet. The light freckles, the upturned little nose, the
broad mouth with glistening lips, and those long blond eyelashes. His
lovely hair all tousled and those little ears that stuck out a bit. He was
the source of my lifelong love for ears that stick out. Arberry hated them,
I held them in my mouth and told him I loved them, probed the ear hole with
my tongue till he squealed. Now I crept a hand up his thigh and cupped his
smooth little buttock. Then in between his thighs and stroked his hard-on,
his little balls, his anus. Watched him as I caressed. His lovely eyes
opened and his face crinkled into a big smile. He pouted his lips and made
kissing sounds, and I kissed him. What a way to begin the day. I wanted to
kiss him all over and declare my undying love. He lay watching me as I
caressed him. He didn't move, just closed his eyes and smiled, gentle,
gentle.
  Bum sore?' He mouthed a lazy `Nope.' Opened his eyes. Better not stick it
in till he'd had a crap, though. He smiled. `Don't want to dirty your
lovely willy.' I'd never have thought of such a thing. Usually, when he
stuck his finger inside in the morning, he could feel the crap waiting.
Made sense, didn't it? He closed his eyes again, and I moved my hand up his
stomach and caressed his smooth chest. He pulled my hand back down between
his thighs, pouting his lips.
  `Your mum's not going to barge in, is she?' He shook his head lazily.
Opened his eyes. Grinned his elfish grin. He'd sorted her out good and
proper. `She used to just barge in, as if I was still her little baby. So
one morning, I timed it, so when she came in, I was standing stark naked in
front of the mirror with a hard-on. Shock and horror and embarrassment and
blushes and apologies. Ha, ha! And now I lock the door ever night. She
hasn't complained, and knocks politely. I may have to go through the same
scenario when my sister returns.' My sly little elf. I couldn't do such a
thing. I'd be too embarrassed myself. He said he'd thought of letting her
catch him wanking but decided that was pushing it too far. I burrowed down
under the duvet and between his thighs. The intoxicating scent of boy's
lap, and I sucked his balls. He pulled back the duvet and watched as I
sucked, smiling and stroking my head. Then I moved up and grasped his
willy. It was longer.
  `Yeah... It's because of all your sperm. Ever since I began to ingest your
sperm, my willy's grown.' And we giggled. `Ingest'? `Ingest means to absorb
by swallowing or otherwise. I absorb your cum when I swallow it, but when
you cum up my bum, I also absorb it.' We both roared with laughter. Not
because it in itself was funny, but because of how we talked about it. He
tittered: `Other boys talk about cricket scores and that; we talk about
buggery and fellatio and sperm and how your sperm's made my willy grow.'
And if he kept on ingesting my sperm, he'd end up with an elephantine
willy? `No, a cetacean willy... full of sperm.' Cetacean? `A whale's willy. A
whale of a willy. A sperm whale of a willy.' Moby Dick. And we roared with
laughter.
  He rubbed his glans in my face. Now there was Cowper's fluid. We smiled
at each other as I played with it. I pulled off a pearl with a finger and
stuck it into his mouth, and he sucked my finger clean. `Mmmmm.' Then I
proceeded to fellate him, watching his face all the while. He whined
sweetly when he came. Smiled as I squeezed out the last drops, and sucked
him dry. And then we snogged as usual. He was still hard, and I fondled it,
so smooth.
  `Each species has its specifications. A boy my size will usually not have
a willy bigger than so much.' How much? He didn't know. But he wasn't
taking any chances. And he pulled me up and then his head between my
thighs, and he sucked me off, now with great expertise, buggering me with
two fingers. He gulped and we snogged. `That and a good sod up the arse
should give me another inch.' And the quiet giggles became shrieks of
laughter.
  We got up. There was a large stain in the middle of the bed. `What the
hell's that?' He examined it closely. `It's spunk.' We looked at each
other. `Better clean it off.' And we pulled off the sheet and into the
bathroom and handsoap. He said he must have leaked during the night. `You
did bugger me three times, remember. Three loads up my little bum. Bound to
leak.' We'd have to get some sanitary napkins for him. Giggle. `Anything
you boys need? Yes, please, Mum. Mars bars and sanitary napkins. What d'you
need sanitary napkins for, boys? Well, you see Mum, Dodo squirts all this
sperm up my arse every night, and then I leak, you know, like a girl, but
out of my arse. Ah, yes, I see, you're growing up now, so you have new
requirements.' Haaah! And we hugged each other laughing. `Yes, Sir. How can
I help you?' `Sanitary napkins, please.' `There you are, Sir, Her Comfort.
Very popular with the girls.' `No, no, no, I need sanitary napkins for
boys, not girls!' `What d'you mean, Sir?' `His Comfort, Madam, His Comfort.
For boys who leak after buggery.' `Leak after buggery! Leak after buggery!
What insolence! Absolutely obscene! I'll have the police on you!' `That's
sexist, Madam. You are a female chauvinist sow. Look, my underpants are
soaked. That's my boyfriend's sperm!' `Yes, it's my sperm, Madam. I
buggered him several times. He always leaks.' Ha, ha, haah! The sheet went
back onto the bed, with a wet patch. `It'll dry while we eat breakfast.'
The mattress needed cleaning too. Later. Let it dry overnight.
  A quick shower with repeated washings of the naughty parts and then down
for breakfast. The giggles were difficult to control. Everything his mother
said smacked of innuendo. `Bed all right? Not too small?' A tight squeeze,
up his bum, leaked overnight. `Cream with your porridge, Rideau?' Yes,
please, boy cream. `There's honey for your toast.' Yes, please, sweet and
gooey like sperm. Luckily, his mother soon got up and left. And then it was
grimaces time, and the sausages dripped egg yolk like a penis drips sperm;
it was licked off, and egg yolk dribbled down the chin like sperm. Then a
long snog upstairs and bumpety-bump my crotch and his arse, then tie and
jacket, and off to the War Museum. After a long day, including Cleopatra at
the West End (`My salad days, when I was green in judgment'), cream tea
(and barely restrained giggles) at the Goring Hotel, it was collapse onto
the double bed, and snog and bumpety-bump. Yoohoo, halcyon days, home alone
again. Cook had left a home-made quiche lorraine and Black Forest gateau
from Harrod's. Arberry's mum and dad left, and we were alone in the house.
Tore off our clothes, had a shower, and then lovemaking. No idiot box.
Slow, lazy, drawn out lovemaking, and the mirror from the bathroom for
extra titillation. Arberry watched with fascination my fingers slide up his
arse, and with his back to me, and feet resting on my thighs, he transfixed
himself, watching my willy slide in and out, in the mirror propped up at
the end of the bed. He'd slide off my willy again and again, fascinated by
the sight of his dilated arsehole, and especially its leaking spunk after
I'd come. Auto-voyeurism he called it. I absolutely had to suck the leakage
up and give it to him mouth to mouth —  waste not, want not.
  Arberry came when I buggered him the first time; the second time, I
sucked him off; and before going to sleep, we wanked into each other's
mouths. There wasn't much left then, and it took forever before we came.
Licking his lips, Arberry then went to sleep wearing two pairs of
underpants and his speedos, and a cricket ball pressing against his anus,
and his arse pressed against my crotch. We didn't know about butt plugs. `I
don't want your precious sperm to seep out and waste. I want it to stay
inside, so I ingest it anally. For my willy's sake.' And he told me about a
tribe in New Guinea called the Etoro. They believe a boy needs to ingest
sperm from his elders in order to become a real man. Otherwise, he'll
become effeminate. So they practise ritual homosexuality. From the age of
seven until they're seventeen, they suck off men and older boys, and are
buggered by them as a religious ritual. Then when they have turned
seventeen, it's their turn to be sucked off by younger boys and to bugger
them up the arse. `So I don't want you to bugger me because I like it, oh,
no. I want you to bugger me in order that I may become a fierce
warrior-like boy with a large willy. I gobble down your sperm for purely
medical reasons. Understand?' And we both had a good giggle. According to
the Etoro ethic, he would have to suck everyone off, including our
teachers. He scowled. `Never push analogies too far, my dear Dodo. Never.'
I said I wanted to call him Etoro. Etoro the sperm sponge. But we decided
it was too risky, someone might ask what his nickname meant.
  Did the Etoro regimen work? To all appearances, it did. By the spring,
Arberry's willy had grown considerably. It wasn't huge, but almost the size
of mine, although slenderer, and considering his petit build, it was
definitely disproportionate. Those narrow hips and little stomach and then
this really rather large willy. When he wanked, it was a puny boychild's
hand wanking an adolescent's large member. And now he spurted goodly
amounts of boy cream. He was, of course, delighted with this development,
and what a change in his deportment. He strutted about in the showers and
the dormitory proudly exhibiting his willy, especially when it was stiff.
And he would always arrange it in his trousers and shorts so it was most
conspicuous.
  On another visit, I suggested his buggering me for a change, which he
did, but although I liked the idea of it, I didn't really like the
sensation. It didn't hurt, but felt very uncomfortable. That suited him
fine, for he wanted me to bugger him and if he didn't come by that means,
he wanted to watch me suck him off. `You be the buggerER, I be the
buggerEEE!' And he devised a song after `Ongo, bongo, bongo, I don't wanna
leave the Congo', which his grandfather often sang: `Ugger, bugger, I don't
wanna be the bugger, oh, no, no, no, no! Ugger, bugger, bugger, I don't
wanna be the bugger, I wanna be the buggereee!'
  Once, during prep, he sent me one of his corrected essays. Our English
master had encircled an awkward attempt at not splitting an infinitive, and
written: `See bottom of the page.' At the bottom of the page was a
explanation of how the `spurious insistence' on not splitting an infinitive
could lead to very silly constructions. Arberry had written: `See last
page.' It was almost blank. And Arberry had drawn a boy on a horse, `His
Royal Highness Prince Dodo'. And a boy standing on the ground, in tights
(with a nice bulge), `Prince Dodo's page Arberry Esquire'. He had then
drawn the page with his tights down, sticking his bottom out, `bottom of
the page'. And the prince bent over behind him, with a big grin and
dripping tongue: `For Prince Dodo's favourite sweet, see bottom of the
page.' And then, `Please erase after reading.' Arberry was so clever, he'd
finish his homework long before everyone else, and then study extraneous
matters or idle.
  Arberry had also composed a song in protest against Christian censure of
schoolboyhood lying with schoolboyhood as with womanhood. `And all that
have not fins and scales in the seas, and in the rivers, of all that move
in the waters, and of any living thing which is in the waters, they shall
be an abomination unto you: they shall be even an abomination unto you; ye
shall not eat of their flesh, but ye shall have their carcases in
abomination. Ye shall not eat the shrimp cocktail, it shall be an
abomination unto you; ye shall not eat the lobster thermidor, it shall be
an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat crab mayonnaise, it shall be an
abomination unto you; ye shall not eat the jellied eel on Brighton Pier, it
shall be an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat the calamari fritti, it
shall be an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat the oyster cooked or
raw, it shall be an abomination unto you.' All we needed now was a tune
that matched.