Easter Rugger Tours
Before and After  

By Joel

 Chapter 2 - Tour Number One  

The end of term was nearly upon us when the Rugger master, who was a fearsome creature who played for Harlequins in their pack, put up a notice outlining the Easter Rugby Tour and the participants.  Oh my God, there was I among the eighteen lads named!  There were three Fifth Years, myself and Billy Hall and a lad, Monty Williams, in the parallel Form who was quite massive and played at lock in our Junior XV.  The rest were First, Second and Third Year Sixth Formers who generally made up the First XV.  Among them, of course, was Paul who was marked as Captain.  I was in my seventh heaven.  Although only down as reserve and touch judge with my two other age groupers this was a singular honour and we might be called on as substitutes!  Dad was so proud he even bought me a First XV shirt on his way home from work the next day.  I hid that away as I didn't want my luck to change.  

The arrangements were that we would play three matches.  Two against Grammar School sides in different towns somewhere up north and the third at a Catholic Public School where our Rugger master had been at school.  As these schools were some hundred and fifty miles away we would be travelling by coach on the Monday afternoon to the first town, staying over that night  with someone from their team, playing a game the next day and remaining there overnight again.  The next day we would travel about an hour in the morning to the next venue, play in the afternoon and be put up that night there.  We would then travel on the next morning to the Public School, play them in the afternoon and stay until the next morning, Good Friday, when we would return home.   

The eighteen of us were paired off differently for the first two stays.  I was down to be paired  with Llewellyn Johns for the first two nights in the same place.  He was in the First Year Sixth and was smaller than me and was the First XV scrum half.  He was Welsh like the irascible Rugger master at the other school and nearly half of our much more amenable teachers.  They always said that the Welsh exported coal and teachers and our school had more than its fair share of the second.   I didn't know Llewellyn at all as he hadn't been in the Junior XV when he was in the Fifth Year but in the First XV so I was a bit apprehensive.  The third night I was to be in the company of Greg Taylor.  I knew him slightly as I had been in the same class at Junior School as one of his younger sisters.  He was in the Second Year Sixth, same as Paul.  He was the same height as me, but stockier and played at number fifteen, the fullback position.  The final night there were no pairings.  The simple reason being that as it was a boarding school we would be bedding down in a dormitory.  

The last week of term passed in a whirl.  We three young'uns, as the Rugger master called us, were issued with First XV shirts.  I didn't dare say I already had one.  School term finished on Friday. Then disaster struck.  The Rugger master broke his ankle, or leg, or something, playing on Saturday.  There were hurried conferences as he was supposed to accompany us and chaperone us.  However, Paul was summoned by the Head on Sunday and asked if he would take responsibility, with the vicecaptain, a Third Year Sixth Former named Brian Masters, for the tour.  The Head said he had every faith in Paul and Brian and wished them well.  We heard all this when we met up on Monday at two o'clock in the school hall.  Paul said in very measured tones that he expected everyone to take part and to enjoy themselves but we all had him and Brian to answer to.  As Paul was now a good six foot and Brian was six foot three and the biggest in the team I don't think anyone had any inclination to misbehave!  

Our journey started promptly at half past two and the driver of the coach set off at a good lick up the M1 northwards.  We reached our first destination just before six o'clock and were quickly apportioned out to our waiting hosts.  Llew and I found ourselves in the company of one of their First Year Sixths, who also happened to be Welsh like Llew.  He was a small, compact, blackhaired lad, just like Llew and, guess what, he was also their scrumhalf.  I felt like a walking beanpole, towering and  towing along behind them as they chatted animatedly about things rugby and Welsh and combinations of the two.  Before we reached his house we had learned that Gareth's Dad had been a coalminer and had been killed in a pit accident when Gareth was ten.  His mother was a nurse and had decided to move away from the mining valley so they had settled in this quite different environment.  His elder sister, like my sisters, had already left home, to become a nurse like his mother.  His mother was a good cook, he said, and was on duty that night so he was to look after us, etc., etc.  What with Llew filling in all the details about us what he knew about me was quite incredible as I knew nothing about him, I learned a lot there was no let up in the continuous stream of chatter.  

After a fairly long walk we ended up at a row of largish terraced houses.  Gareth lived in the first of the row.  He ushered us in and the first thing that struck me was the heavenly smell of cooking.  His mother had left a great casserole in the oven with a note saying we were to enjoy ourselves, keep Gareth in order, not to let him talk the hind leg off a donkey and she would be off duty at eight in the morning.  Gareth shook his head as if this was an everyday occurrence and then showed us up to our room.  This was a large room at the back of the house.  There was a double bed in it and he asked if we minded sharing.  I refrained from saying only as long as Llew didn't snore as much as he talked.  Llew and I looked at each other and shrugged and said "No" simultaneously.  Gareth explained it was really his room and he would be in his sister's old room next to it.  Well, before we got downstairs for food they found at least six other shared interests from stampcollecting through to History which both were doing for Alevels.  Luckily hunger struck them both and we were soon seated, then sated, at the diningtable.  The flow of talk continued nonstop while we consumed the very tasty casserole and apple crumble to follow.    

Gareth decided we'd better have an early night so we were upstairs again by half past nine.  I wasn't used to going to bed so early so was rather pleased when the other two decided to do a bit of arm wrestling.  They stripped off their shirts and sat either side of Gareth's desk and began the tedious male chore of seeing who was stronger, or more crafty.  After the first session which Gareth won easily they both decided they would be more comfortable in their underpants.  All this time I was slowly undressing as I usually did.  I was always very tidy and folded up my things as I took them off.  As it happened I always slept in the nude at home but Mum had thoughtfully put pyjamas out for me to pack.  Without thinking I had slipped my underpants off and was searching in my bag for my pyjamas when Llew looked up.  

 "Look at that, Gareth," he announced, "Young Jamie's got his usual stiffy!"  

Oh crumbs, taking off my underpants was the routine signal for my unruly, disobedient cock to make its nightly stand.  And, how the hell did Llew know about my usual habits?  My cock was slowly rising under the intense gaze of two blackbrowed Welsh boyos.  I couldn't do anything about it so they did.  Without any collusion they both downed their own underpants, cast them off and grabbed me in a tight grip and backed me over the bed.  

 "What shall we do with the beastie?" asked Llew across my recumbent body.  

"Not so little that beastie," said Gareth, "Let's see it fully grown."  

With that he ringed my cock with what could only have been a very experienced set of fingers and dragged my foreskin down over my knob.  

"Good God!" he said admiringly, "You say he's only sixteen?  Bugger's got a dong like a young donkey!"  

 I couldn't see what equipment they had but mine was now fully proud, jutting up above my belly.  

"Shall we see what he's made of?" asked Gareth.  

Llew sniggered.  "He's got plenty of juice in those bollocks so I hear."  

So Llew had heard about me.  He wasn't a Scout but there were plenty of others who had seen my usual spurting amount.  Curious.  While I cogitated on that Gareth began a slow tug on my everwilling meat.  

"You can let me go," I said quietly.  

The restraining hands left me and Gareth continued to wank me slowly.  I lay back and let the wondrous feelings take over.  It didn't take long before the usual subterranean throbbing started.  I opened my mouth, took a few deeps breaths and shot my load.  

"Fuck me!" said Llew, "He is a juicy bastard.  Beats me, I don't make half  that much on a fine day."  
I had shot a lot.  I usually did.  My friends had remarked on it many times.  Actually, Kish had pinched some testtubes from the lab only a fortnight ago and he, Billy, Gerry and I had deposited, with some difficulty in catching it, our supply of cum from that afternoon's wank so that we could compare our productions.  There had been a slight difference in colour and texture but the biggest difference was that their amounts were just about equal whereas mine was nearly double.    

Gareth pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk and drew out an old piece of towel.  "Always keep that handy for the sudden urge," he said with a grin and chucked it over the sticky splodges on my belly and chest.  

"Same here," said Llew, "I have my trusty towel at the ready all the time."  

Crumbs, I was with a couple of serious wankers, just like me.  I wiped myself rather sketchily leaving quite a bit still on my chest and sat up.  What caught my eye were two hefty erections.  These Welsh boyos matched, not long but thick.  Two shorter dicks than mine, but almost matching each other in length, breadth, darkness and rigidness, were on either side of me.  I put out both hands and grasped one in each.  

"Together or one at a time?" I asked.  

"Together," they said simultaneously.  

I pride myself on my ambidexterity.  Many's the time, when Gerry had demanded a third wank and was proving a bit tardy in producing his juice, I'd change hands without missing a beat and with no loss of power.  I gripped both dongs firmly and set a fair pace.  The two valiant Welsh lads grinned at each other as the pumping started.  They also matched, as I went on, in the way they both leaned back.  Their muscled bodies became quite taut.  I peered at their thickly haired legs and how the muscles of their thighs stood out as if straining to force their imminent cumming to be massive.  They were like twin statues.  Gareth began to pant before Llew and Gareth shot first.  Several spurts of pearly cum flew across my legs and hit Llew directly above his navel.  Then Llew fired.  His salvo of shots matched Gareth's.  Both now had trickling streams of the other's spunk dribbling down their bellies.  Both grabbed my hands to stop me pumping.  

"Gosh," I said, quite amazed,  "You two could be twins."  

They looked at each other and reached down to scoop up some of the other's come in their fingers.  They turned to me and mixed all three sets of cum on my chest.  Gareth held out a finger dipped in the mixture and placed it against my lips.  I sucked his finger greedily.  I was always intrigued by the strange saltiness and sweetness of my wankpartners creamy outpourings as I always endeavoured to taste what had been deposited in my hand or whatever remained on my fingers.  Gerry and I had tasted ours many times from the first time when we'd sucked each other off and had compared each other almost like a tasting session.  I dipped the first two fingers of each hand into the pool and held them out to the two boys.  They also sucked every drop off.  

"Best way to get your vitamins," said Gareth.  

He was obviously wellversed in the art of joint enjoyment.  

The towel was brought into play properly this time and Llew commented on its crustiness.  

"Only a fortnight since it was washed," said Gareth.  

"Bugger me," said Llew, "You must draw off several times a day, eh?"  

Gareth said he usually managed three and both Llew and I said we did the same.  They eyed me rather suspiciously, I think, wondering if my mammoth outpouring was the result of a week's hoarding of sperm.  I guessed what they were thinking and said I'd  had my usual Sunday three the day before.  They laughed and said so had they.  Anyway, Llew and Gareth hadn't finished their discussions so I suggested that Gareth joined us for the night in the doublebed and he could crawl out early in the morning and finish up in his own bed before his Mam came home.  
"Good thinking, lad," said Llew, "Just what me and my cousin Trevor do when I visit him."  

So said we spread two towels in the bed, as Gareth said "In case" and Gareth got in between Llew and me.  At eleven o'clock we all decide we needed more relief.  I had a hardon which ached but I waited until Llew had tossed Gareth off, then Gareth pulled Llew's pudding and finally my absolutely rigid dong responded very quickly to Llew's also expert grip.  

Next thing I knew was a movement of bodies and a "Oh shit, I've got to hurry!" from Gareth as he slipped out of bed and disappeared posthaste through the door.  I then heard the key in the frontdoor and the rattle of the lock and his Mam was home.  Soon there was the smell of more heavenly food.  A full cooked breakfast.  I hadn't started to shave every day but black visaged Welsh boys needed to so Llew and Gareth were closeted in the bathroom for ages.  Luckily I had reached the bathroom first so I was dressed and downstairs long before the pair of them emerged.  Gareth's Mam wanted to know if we had got on OK.  I said we had, not, of course, divulging the antics we'd been up to.  I said Llew and Gareth were so much alike.  

"Talk a lot, did they?" she asked with a smile.  

I nodded.  

"Thought so.  Does Gareth good to get things off his chest.  Now his sister's gone for training it's only me to talk to and he is a grown boy now."  

He was certainly grown.  I noted his outpouring was not much less than mine and those legs!  I wished mine were as hairy!    

After breakfast Gareth and Llew continued their duologue and I went out to explore a bit of the town.  We were near the outskirts.  The school and the hospital were in sight when I walked up the main road which was more like a hill.   I didn't see anything of interest so wandered back and sat in the kitchen and chatted to Gareth's Mam who wanted to know all about me.  I told her all that was decent and said how I enjoyed school.  Mrs Davies said that Gareth wanted to do History at University and was a very hard worker.  She was obviously very proud of her son.  At long last after elevenses we put our rugger togs and towels in plastic bags and went off to the school.   

The match was at two o'clock and lunch was scheduled in the school hall at twelve thirty.  From the conversation I was able to have with Billy he'd also had an interesting night which he said he'd tell me about later.  I joined Gareth and Llew and another of their team at the table.  He raised his eyebrows as soon as Gareth and Llew gabbled on.  

"He's always the same," he explained, "Never shut's up.  Best friend I've got though."  

End of conversation.  He was obviously the silent partner.  

We all got changed as soon as we'd finished eating and I put on the old First XV shirt I'd been issued with.  I had only tried it on once at home.   I'd put on Paul's old jockstrap this morning when I got dressed so it didn't take me long to get my shorts on with my socks and rugger boots to finish my ensemble.  Monty and I were to be touch judges today and Billy was reserve in case anyone came off, hurt or otherwise.  The ref was one of their masters and he asked if we knew the Rules.  We both nodded and dead on two o'clock they kicked off.  Their team was good.  There were some quite hefty players and Gareth as scrum half was everywhere.  But, our lot were equally good and in the end we drew, nine all.  Billy went on for the last twenty minutes when one of the wings twisted his ankle.  He wasn't badly hurt but limped a bit as he went in to have an early shower.    

The shower!  That was my first experience of seeing so many older boys all together.  Both teams used the same showers and I was undressed and underneath the spray before most of the others.  I remained under for as long as possible so I could check out as many as I could see.  It was rather amusing as the cold and the exertion had caused everyone to shrink.  There were more wrinkles than inches evident all around.  However, as in my own case, the warmth of the water and also, perhaps, the sight of so many cocks, caused a general lengthening and thickening, back to normal I assumed, pretty quickly.  

I was joined under the shower by one of the Second Year Sixth Formers I didn't know other than seeing him around at school.  He was a big lad, as tall as I was, but had enough hair round the root of his cock and under his arms to stuff a cushion.  I was glad to see that I was just as well endowed as him even though he was a couple of years or so older.  In fact, what really surprised me was that although boys are always saying about the length of their cocks, or the size of others, the actual hanging length of almost all the thirty or so I looked at that day was very similar and no more than mine.  I saw only two which made me look again, one was a real whopper, the other lad 's just peeped out of his bush.  They both belonged to members of the other team.  What did differ most were two things, general hairiness and the size of bollocks.  A general rule seemed to be that the older the lad the more hair he had around and above his cock.  Hairiness of legs was individual.  One of our team was very blond and had the hairiest legs out.  Thick golden curls were all over his thighs and spread down his shins.  What surprised me was that even the couple of blonds I spotted, him included,  had quite dark bushes above their cocks.  

Bollocks came in all shapes and sizes and swingingness.  Compared with my, to me, quite normal walnut sized in their sac, which nestled quite close to the root of my cock, there was much variation.  I had already noted this in my mutual feeling of my fellow wankers' balls as we compared each other's equipment after school or after Scouts.  Joe Platt, one of my Scout patrol Secondary Modern  School cowankers, had the biggest pair of bollocks I'd ever seen or felt.   Two smallorangesized monsters.  However, they didn't do much for him as he only came in dribbles although he loved every moment of a good wank.  He said his balls had swollen up like that when he had mumps at the age of eleven and had never gone down. Around me now there were large ones, small ones, pendulous pairs and some so tight up against their accompanying cocks you could hardly see them, but none as big as Joe's.    

I had also spotted Paul early on.  He was under a shower with the Captain of the other team in earnest conversation.  I saw his cock for the first time since we'd been together on holiday as youngsters.  He was a bit distant, but, again, he didn't seem to be any bigger than me or anyone else.  I had always imagined that as you got older and, if you were bigger and taller than others were, then your cock would also be huge.  However, he did sport a nice big pair of balls which swung very convincingly as he moved under the shower spray and, of course, he had a really dense bush now rather than the sparse scattering of six years ago.  My reverie was interrupted by the Sixth Former,  I remembered his name, Dave Cartwright,  poking me in the back and asking if I would soap his back.  I did and then he soaped me.  I glanced down surreptitiously and noted that it'd had the same effect on both of us.  Our dicks were thickening slightly.  But, we were soon out of the shower after that and drying off.  He was also rubbing in embrocation into his knee which he said he'd twisted in tackling some poxy fucker in the other team. No masters appeared so one of their lot started off a song.  The first one sounded like a hymn tune but the words were about an artificial cock and the chorus went something like `in and out went the fucking great wheel, in and out went the prick of steel' and so on.    I caught Billy's eye and he was laughing mightily as the singing went on and then it changed to another about all the nice girls and their love of candles.  The singing gradually died away soon after as I think they ran out of words or breath!  

Billy and I sat together as we got dressed and I congratulated him on playing his first time in the First XV but he seemed more interested to know how I'd got on the previous night.  I said it had been fine.  He nodded down indicating if it was that kind of fine.  I said it had been very fine, twice each.  He grinned and said it had been the same.  He said his host was the lad over there.  I looked.  The lad was just combing his hair, he was one of the two I'd noticed earlier, the one with the long cock.  Billy leaned towards me.  

"Massive tool.  Beats you," he whispered, "Tell you more later."  

The singing had stopped and I noticed that the Sixth Formers were all much slower than us Fifth Formers in getting dressed.  I realised they were all liberally rubbing in liniment on their real or imaginary sore muscles.  The place soon stank of wintergreen.  Billy and I sat and watched in silence until Gareth came over with Llew.   

"You're with Doug, aren't you?" Gareth quizzed Billy.  

Billy stammered a bit and said "Yyes".  

"Good lad he is.  And is Jamie here your pal?" he continued.  

"Oh, yes," said Billy and I got the compliment, "He's a good lad too."  

"Yes, we know that," was the rejoinder with a wink to me.  

Doug then came over and beamed at all of us.  He was shorter than me but looked very wiry and strong.  I wanted to know Billy's firsthand account of what had happened and I'd tell him also all about me and my two encounters.  But I wasn't able to get him on his own then as we went off as a group into the school hall where we had a slapup tea which, at least, took my mind off other things.  From the camaraderie I think everyone was pleased it had been a draw.  

After tea we all went off with our hosts back to their houses.  Llew and Gareth were still at it, hammer and tongs, gassing on about every subject under the sun.  I trailed along carrying not only my damp kit and towel in my plastic bag but they'd dumped their bags on me as well.  I was a general dogsbody.  "Ran the line well" was the only compliment I got from Llew on the way home.  
Gareth's Mum was at home when we got there.  She told us to put our kit in the washer and Gareth would see to it.  She also said that she had been asked to go on duty again that evening so, if we didn't mind looking after ourselves again until the morning, she would be off at eight o'clock.  Llew said he thought he could keep Gareth in order.  Mrs Davies said he would be the first one.  Anyway at seven she dished up a homemade meat pie followed by a delicious treacle tart.  At quarter to eight she disappeared off, saying to Gareth to see that our kit was dry for the next day, leaving us to contemplate the rest of the evening and the night.  

We were upstairs at nine o'clock.  Llew and Gareth had another bout of arm wrestling until Llew decided he needed more embrocation rubbed into his back.  I thought I would try it as well so offered to anoint Llew if he would rub some into my thigh muscles.  It was quite hilarious as Gareth joined in and there were three almost nude lads merrily massaging each other's various groups of muscles.  The general injunction was not to let the stuff near your cock, or even more importantly, your's or anyone else's balls.  I was a bit puzzled about this until Gareth, I hoped accidently, caressed my left bollock with an embrocation doused hand.  I nearly hit the ceiling.  Christ, it was hot!  The other two laughed and said it would act as a warning.  There were tales told then of the payment back of old enmities by the application of a dose of liniment to the offender's balls or a finger rubbed up the crack of their arse.  Gareth said he'd had the treatment in the Fourth Year when he'd made enemies with a nasty piece of work who'd finally been kicked out of the school.  He'd been held down by the villain and two of his pals while they applied the liquid to his balls.  He said they swelled up and ached for several days after that but he'd attributed the increase in size of the said objects after that to the treatment.  I had noted the night before that Gareth's balls were his pride and joy in the way he held and displayed them.  They were quite large and swung low below his dick with the left hanging some way below the right.  Bigger and better than mine or Llew's.  He said he'd got the better of the fucker who instigated the assault by bashing him in the balls, accidentally of course, ha ha, when tackling him in a house match.  He had to retire hurt.  

"What is known in Rugby circles as a groin injury," added Llew knowledgeably.  

 I told them then about the Scout who'd had mumps when he was eleven and  who had huge balls.  Both said they remembered having mumps when they were much younger and I said I had as well.  Gareth told us you didn't want to have mumps  when you were older and making sperm as you could get sterile.  He'd read that in one of his mother's medical books.  I wondered if that was why Chas only produced a dribble but Gareth said he would still be able to make spunk but the sperms in it wouldn't be alive.  That shut even Llew up for a moment as we sat and contemplated that bit of information and Gareth reassured us you only caught mumps once.  Gareth then said he'd also read in the book that each time we shot a load there were enough sperms in it to repopulate India.  I laughed and said my pal Kish, who was Indian, repopulated India two or three times a day.  Llew thumped me on the back and said I could probably repopulate China with the amount of spunk I shot in one go.  

 "Yeah, that's right," said Gareth, "As long as he doesn't get Peking and Wanking mixed up!"  

 Very good, I must pass that one on to Gerry!  

The issue of whether wanking should take place the night before a match was discussed.  None of us felt that a couple of wanks had ever had any effect on our stamina.  

"In fact," I said, "I generally feel like a good wank the night before as I'm usually a bit tensed up."  

They agreed and Gareth added, "So speaks the wisdom of youth."  

Gareth said as he wasn't playing the next day he could come as many times as he liked that night and suggested we started with a competition to see who fired the furthest.  I guessed he suggested it as he'd had experience of winning that type of competition before.  Llew agreed a bit halfheartedly.  Perhaps his shot of about two feet across my legs the night before was stretching his limits.  I knew from past experience that wasn't my limit.  

Anyway we decided our first effort would be three solos in order of descending age.  Llew was two months older than Gareth so, having all stripped off completely after the arm wrestling and Gareth throwing down the crusty, sorry, trusty towel a fair distance away, Llew began.  He favoured a fullhand wank with his fingers under and up over his cock.  His foreskin slipped back easily and it wasn't long before he was in an easy rhythm.  I glanced over at Gareth and his dick was rising steadily just like mine.  Then with a groan and a moan Llew produced about four short squirts of come which landed about two feet away from him slap bang in the middle of the towel.  It was Gareth's turn next.  He used an overhand method with his thumb rubbing along the under ridge of his shaft with three fingers on top but when he was working up to his climax to changed to the fullhand used by Llew.  He gave more of an openthroated cry as he pulled down hard on his engorged cock.  Five substantial streams of cream flew from his knobend.  The first landed near the further edge of the towel at least four feet from him.  Llew patted him on the back, I think fully expecting him to be the winner.  

As youngest I was the final competitor.  I had found from my nearly three year's wanking experience that thumb on top and two fingers below with foreskin pulled right back produced the best results when competing for distance in circlejerks, or even in my practice sessions in front of my wardrobe mirror.  I was my usual rigid self before I even started having watched with intense interest the other two lads bring themselves to fulfilment.  I gripped my dick firmly between my thumb and fingers and yanked my foreskin back.  My knob end stood out, bulbous and dark red.  I set off at a cracking pace knowing the sooner I came the further it would go.  I was more than ready, I soon felt the familiar pounding under my prick, then I let fly.  The first three spurts missed the further edge of the towel.  They went over it hitting the chest of drawers beyond it, a massive six feet at least.  The three jets that followed splashed down just in front of Gareth's effort.  A final dribble dangled down from my still erect shaft.  

"Never seen that before," whispered Gareth.  

"Bloody marvellous," was Llew's comment.  

With one movement I was enveloped in two mighty bear hugs.  

"Bloody marvellous," repeated Llew.  

For once, both boys were lost for other words.  

Well, after that we ended up in bed as the night before.  My prowess was discussed and I was rewarded with being tossed off by both lads before we settled down for the night.  Llew would only have one more ejaculation.  He said in case his stamina was affected, so Gareth obliged while I watched.  Gareth, of course, couldn't have cared less about his stamina so we both had to deal with him.  And in the morning at six I was awoken with his dick being placed in my hot little hand with the whispered injunction, "I need it again".  I tossed him off slowly to much sighing and panting while Llew snored on.   After he came all over my leg Gareth felt my rampant young cock but I said I hadn't better in case I was needed to play so he just smeared his come on my lips as he slipped out of bed to retreat to his room to be there when his mother came home.  I licked my lips and dozed off again.  Just like the day before I awoke properly to the smell of  breakfast cooking.  Gareth came in, still in the nude, poked us both in the side and said it was time to get up.  Llew was still pretty sleepy but I hauled him out of bed and we three hugged each other and professed lifetime friendship for the happy two nights we'd spent together.  

 Everyone was in a good mood as we said farewell and boarded the bus at ten o'clock.  It was an hour's drive to the next school and we arrived just a bit late as the driver had lost his way at one point.  I sat next to Billy and we whispered through our adventures of the past two nights.  He had been paired up with a Second Year Sixth Former, Duncan Potts.  They had been billeted with a First Year Sixth Former, a dentist's son.  Of course, according to Billy, those two had got on like a house on fire as Duncan wanted to be a dentist or something like that.  From Billy's description his encounters matched mine.  After leaving Billy and Duncan ensconced in a large double bed the son of the house had  returned when his parents had retired to their room and they'd all pursued the joys of mutual masturbation with two bouts each.  

Billy sniggered and said the lad's younger brother, just fourteen, had come in first thing in the morning with a tray of tea and found the three of them nude in bed sprawled over each other snoring loudly.  The older brother, on waking up, had grabbed the young lad, upended him on the bed, pulled his pyjama trousers off, woken the others in the process and the three of them had taken it in turns to tickle the youngster and wank him until he came and told him he'd better not say what he'd seen.  The kid had wanted to join in the second night so the three of them had initiated him in being tossed off three times in quick succession before sending him off to his own bed.  Billy said that both the brothers had huge dicks, especially the young kid and, boy, didn't they come fast!  

I was as horny as hell by the time we got to our destination.  I wanted a good wank and I knew from the hunched up way Billy was retrieving his bag from the overhead rack that he had a hardon same as me.  There was no time for frivolities.  Hardons or not the next stage was pairing off again and going in to lunch.  I found my fellow Chaucerian, as we were called after the name of our school.  Greg Taylor was another First Year Sixth former.  Unlike Llew he was quiet and seemed a bit reserved.  Our host was a big lad, just a bit shorter than me but broader, in their Second Year Sixth, Francis Cooke.  Like Greg he was a flanker, I hoped he would also be a wanker as I was immediately attracted to him.  He was blond, with very blue eyes and a winning smile.  Even Greg managed to smile when we were greeted.  

At two the game started in a fine drizzle of rain.  I was a touch judge again and this time Monty was a substitute.  He also got a game for part of the second half when the same wing retired limping.  While I ran up and down the line relentlessly, Billy, although in full kit, was superfluous as the other side had, graciously, provided the second touch judge not like the day before.  In fact, there were twice as many spectators, six instead of the three on the previous day.  The rain eased off but I watched anxiously as our team went into scrums as their forwards seemed so much bigger than ours.  There was a lot of slipping and sliding around.  Their props were two very large lads, red headed and rotund who seemed to flatten anyone in their encounters with them.  I found out from one of the spectators that they were twins and were known as Tweedledum and Tweedledee.    

It was only because of Llew that we didn't get crushed.  Their team scored four tries in the first half hour then Llew got the measure of them and passed the ball out from scrums as rapidly as possible.  By the time we got into the middle of the second half the rain had stopped and we had also scored four times.  Neither side had an adequate goal kicker so none were converted.  Then the bastards got Llew.  They realised he was the danger so one tackled him rather fiercely and he went down winded.  He wanted to carry on but the ref, one of their masters but fairminded, signalled that Billy should come on as a second replacement.  Poor old Billy, they went after him then but, I think, more through fright than anything, he played a blinder.  He took over from Llew and grabbed the ball and passed back at every opportunity.  Our left wing managed one more try just before the final whistle so we won!

Thirtytwo very damp lads trooped off to the welcome showers where Llew and the winger were already under the water.  The singing started with even more volume than the day before.  The other lot were not too put out.  It was the first match they'd lost that term so they could afford to be generous.  We showered and I observed and came to the conclusion that our lads put on the better display, not only on the field but also between their legs.  That is, except for the redheaded twins.  Nude, they  looked quite immense, both had patches of bright orange fur round their cocks and up their bellies.  They also had amounts of bright hair across their chests and their legs were a tangled mass of wiry bristles.  No one else in either team had any noticeable hair on their chests.  Both the twins had lengthy, thick dongs and hanging pouches containing sizeable balls.  I know it's said Rugby is played by boys with oddshaped balls.  Their's were rugby balls in miniature, much bigger, even, than Gareth's swingers.  Looking around I saw admiring glances being made at the twins' equipment.  I wondered who would be paired with them?  

We had tea, then Francis, or Frankie as he said everyone called him, took us on a short bus ride to his house.  This was a large, detached house, rather like ours, and we were greeted by two younger brothers of just eleven and thirteen and three large dogs.  The two young lads were smaller versions of Frankie, also blond with blue eyes.  His mother said we were to give her our wet togs and she would wash and dry them.  The two younger boys, after quietly acknowledging us, were dispatched to the garage with three pairs of muddy boots with the admonition they had to be spotless.  Frankie's mother told him to show us our room.  He apologised when we got there as we were to share.  Greg and I were to have his four foot wide bed while he was to sleep on a foldup bed beside it.  He explained he also had two sisters of fourteen and a half and sixteen so all four bedrooms would be occupied to full extent. Crumbs, five of them, three dogs and two of us, his mother must be a saint to cope with all that crew!  His mother was a large, very jolly woman, obviously used to coping with kids.  He told us his father had an electrical shop in the town and wouldn't be back until late as he had a trade meeting.  

The young boys had our boots ready when we returned downstairs and shyly handed them to us.  I thanked the older one who had cleaned mine and said I would think of him tomorrow when I wore them.  He reddened a bit but smiled.  So the seven youngsters and Mum sat down at six to a substantial meal, designed especially for Rugby players according to her.  Greg came out of his shell and chatted to the girls.  Of course, he knew all about that type of creature having two sisters of his own.  The two younger boys stared at us three older and larger lads and seemed a bit in awe of us and kept very quiet while I talked mostly to Frankie.  I did nudge the older one who sat next to me and asked him if he wanted another helping.  I also noticed that he had a small erection pressing against the front of his trousers which he tried to hide with the tablecloth.  I think he knew I'd seen it because he went very quiet for most of the rest of the meal and had a slight blush.  It was all I could do not to put my hand down under the cloth and rub my finger up the little bulge.  

The younger pair were sent up to have a bath at eight o'clock and Frankie followed them up to supervise them.  Being a curious soul and with Greg still chatting to the two sisters and their mother in the kitchen I followed Frankie up the stairs a minute or so later.  I went into our room first and finished unpacking then walked along to the bathroom and knocked on the door.  Frankie opened it wearing just a pair of old rugger shorts and I could see the two younger brothers clad only in their underpants and chattering together.  

"Need any help?" I asked.  

Frankie grinned and motioned me in.  "I usually get wet with these two little buggers so I change into these."  

Bathing the two lads must have been his brotherly chore.  The two lads fell silent eying me warily and stood still until Frankie told them to hurry up and finish undressing or else the water would be cold.  They did this with their backs to me so I didn't catch a glimpse of their cocks until they climbed into the bath.  Then I saw that the younger one was still quite undeveloped.  He had just a small snail with tiny balls.  The other was like I was at thirteen, on the verge of new things.  His cock wasn't snaillike like his brother's.  It had begun to lengthen but his balls were still small though they were hanging loose below the root of his prick.  There were also about a dozen fine pale hairs just above the join of his cock to his belly.  I remembered back to my first hairs and wondering at the time what was happening to me.   

The bath for them was a very perfunctory event.  They soaped themselves all over quickly and then splashed around getting the soap off and confirming Frankie's prediction.  He was also liberally splashed by the younger one.  He grabbed a towel and dried himself off.    

"Right you two little turdfaces, get up.  I'll dry David and Jamie will supervise you, Duncan."  

Both stood up dripping wet.  Frankie began rubbing his youngest brother with the towel he had in his hand.  I reached over and found another towel and handed it to Duncan.  I noted his young prick had lengthened a bit in the hot water.  I wondered if he had got to the stage of enjoying dry cums yet because he was just at the age when I'd begun to try them out periodically.  
As he dried himself he turned to Frankie.  "Mum said you weren't to call us those rude names 'cause you said that B word earlier as well. I'll tell her."  

"Shut up or I'll smack your arse," retorted Frankie with a grin on his face.  

This was obviously a brotherly exchange.  

 "I'll tell Mum you said that word as well," Duncan continued.  

 "Duncan, if you don't shut up I'll get Jamie here to bite your bollocks off," said Frankie, a hint of menace in his voice, "Jamie eats little boys' bollocks for breakfast, that's why he's such a big, strong boy.  Isn't that right, Jamie?"  

 The poor kid's face was a picture.  I obliged by baring my teeth and Duncan reacted by grabbing his genitalia under the protection of the towel.  

"It's OK, Duncan," I said, "I had enough for breakfast this morning, you're safe."  

"You're joking," he said and I admitted I was.  

 Meanwhile David was dried off and Frankie lifted him out of the bath.  I put a hand out and Duncan grabbed it gratefully and stepped out too.  I turned to Frankie.  

 "Do you think I could have a quick bath?  I prefer a soak to a shower.  I'll just fill it up a bit more, I don't mind using their dirty water."  

 Frankie grinned and turned the hot tap on again.  I proceeded to undress and as I kicked off my underpants and socks and stood up straight I saw Duncan look me over from head to toe before staring fixedly at my equipment.  In fact both young'uns in front of me were having a good look at what I'd got.  Nonchalantly I ringed my cock and drew my foreskin back so my knob popped out then I covered it again.  Both watched intensely.  I stepped into the bath and slid down well under the water. Frankie was behind me so I don't know whether he caught sight of what I had done to my prick.  He then told the kids to put their pyjamas on and get off to their bedroom.    

He went out with them and about five minutes later there was a tap on the door and Frankie came back in wearing a bathrobe.  

 "Mum says will you be long 'cause the girls have to use this bathroom tonight?....  And you'd better not wave that thing at them 'cause all they ever think about is boys and you're likely to be killed in the rush to get at it."   

 I grimaced at him and clambered out of the bath.  Frankie handed me a dry towel and I reflected to myself that I was the same as his sisters, all I ever thought about was boys, Paul in particular.  Frankie's bathrobe swung open and I glanced down at his shorts and could clearly see his length outlined up his groin.  I was going to think of him as well.  He handed me another bathrobe from behind the door.  
 "No need to dress, just wear this.  The boys want to say goodnight and then come down, but watch that doesn't flap open, those girls are lethal and I wouldn't give much for your chances!"  

With that he scooped up all my clothes and went out. I belted myself up decently and followed.  As he went into our room he pointed to the open door next to ours.  

"The monsters are in there," he said quite loudly, for their benefit.  

Their room was much smaller and they were in bunkbeds with Duncan, the older one, in the top bunk.  Crumbs, if he was experimenting he'd better be careful of the vibrations waking his brother up below.    

"I need to be tucked in," said David from the lower bunk, "Frankie hasn't done it properly."   

 I bent over him and pulled the covers up and neatly folded them in.  "OK?" I asked, "Now go to sleep."  I was rewarded by a kiss on the cheek as I withdrew my head.  I looked at him and he blushed a bit.  "It's OK," I said, "I wish I'd had an older brother to tuck me in.  I  remember my sisters who are much older than me tucking me in when I was smaller."

"You're very big now," a voice came from the upper bunk. "You're taller than Frankie and your thing's bigger," he added with emphasis.  "Are you really only sixteen?"   

I confirmed that I was sixteen but added "and almost three months."    

"Frankie's eighteen and three months," came a little voice from the lower bunk.    

"Will I be as big as you?" asked Duncan from the upper bunk.    

"Oh, I expect so, but you'll much more likely to be like your brother," I replied, congratulating myself on remembering what we had been told about gene inheritance and family likenesses in biology.  "You're both blond like him and you've all got blue eyes so the rest of you is likely to be alike."    

"I do hope so," whispered Duncan, "I want a big thing like his."     

"Have you talked to Frankie about growing up yet?" I whispered back.     

"No," murmured Duncan.    

"What are you whispering about?" came a little plaintive voice from the lower bunk.    

"It's OK, David," I said, "He'll tell you some time."     

"I bet it's about his thing, he's always looking at it."    

"Shut up," said Duncan sharply, "How do you know?"  
 Wrong thing to say as I knew I was curious as a small boy.    

"Seen you looking at yourself in the mirror," said David triumphantly.    

"Go to sleep now," I said to the small figure.  I put out a hand and lightly touched Duncan on the cheek and ran my fingers over his lips.  He moved his lips against my fingers and smiled.  I pulled the cover up to his chin.  "You go to sleep too and perhaps one day we'll have another chat," I said.   I switched off the light, closed the door behind me and went downstairs.    

Greg was still talking to the two girls.  He was obviously having a whale of a time.  They were chattering away but the approach of another male set off a whole new set of vibes.  They both looked me over again.  I had been inspected closely when fully clothed but now, appearing in a bathrobe, must have set off extra frissons of expectancy for them.  I saw them both eye my bare legs.  The bathrobe was only down to my knees and I didn't have any slippers on my bare feet.  I thought I'd better sit on a high chair and not attempt to manoeuvre myself in and out of an easy chair in case my crown jewels were revealed.  The charge in the air was dispelled when their mother called from the kitchen that she wanted one of them.  The elder one got up and disappeared for a moment and came back with a tray of mugs of cocoa and a plate of biscuits.  Frankie was nowhere to be seen.  Then he appeared, still clad in his bathrobe.    

"Just been in the cellar," he explained, "Got a rowing machine down there and always have half an hour on it every evening."  He turned to me. "Are the wretches asleep?" he asked.    

I nodded, just having taken a long pull at the mug of cocoa.  I swallowed.  "I think so.  And I don't think they're wretches."    

"Just a figure of speech," he conceded, "We all get on pretty well, don't we, sisters fair?"     

"Foolish boy," said the elder, who I discovered was just a month or so older than me, and stuck her tongue out at her brother in a most unladylike manner.    

Frankie shrugged.  "The bathroom's free," he said pointedly to the younger sister.    

She also stuck her tongue out but picked up her mug, said goodnight, and went out of the room.  We talked on about all sorts of things.  I was surprised that the elder sister really enjoyed watching and talking about Rugby.  Both girls were at the local girl's High School and played lacrosse, a game I knew nothing about.  Just before ten, Janice said she was going up to bed and we three boys decided we would toddle off as well as soon as she had finished in the bathroom.    

The bathroom was soon free so Greg disappeared into that while Frankie and I went into the bedroom.  I was a bit undecided what to do but in the end just took the bathrobe off and hung it on a hook behind the bedroom door.  As I turned I saw Frankie glance down at my dong.  I was having great difficulty in controlling it.  Even more so when Frankie shrugged off his bathrobe and shucked off his shorts.  Duncan was right.  I was just that bit longer than him when we both hung loose.  However,  I don't think that Duncan had ever seen his brother erect because as we stood and looked at each other we both became stiff at the same time and he then beat me in length.  We grinned at each other.    

"Can't control the bastard," he whispered.    

"Me neither," I said.    

I then told him what Duncan had said and he grinned and said he was a nosy young bugger.  I said it was probably time to have a chat with him and told him that I thought Duncan was having erections.  Frankie nodded and said he was sure too 'cause he'd noticed him sitting awkwardly only a few days ago and he would  talk to him.  In fact, he'd would do it that weekend as David was going to visit and stay with a school friend on Easter Sunday and Monday and he would get Duncan in to sleep with him.  

We were just standing chatting, both with our hardons when Greg came back in.    

"Oh, Christ!", he exclaimed after closing the door carefully behind him, "Is that bugger at it again.  I hear he's had more dicks in his hand than most people have had hot dinners."    

How the hell did he know.  I thought my exploits were only known to those of my circle, my wide circle, my very wide circle.  He must have caught my slightly worried look.    

"Don't fret, Jamie," he said with a grin, "I've heard all about you from Georgie Thomas."    

Georgie Thomas was the Patrol Leader who had complimented me on my rhythm and skill nearly two years ago.    

"Don't forget, I live next door to Georgie."    

"And you and Georgie?......" I started to ask.    

"More times than you've had hot dinners!" was his reply and he burst out laughing.    

Greg was certainly out of his shell.  "Better get this lot off," he continued and undressed very rapidly.  He also had a magnificent erection.    

Without another word we stood in a circle, Frankie chucked down an old rugger shirt, and we began to jerk ourselves off.  We more or less came together and sprayed our spunk on each other mostly missing the shirt on the floor.  We all produced a lot and shot with mighty squirts.    

"I bloody needed that," breathed Frankie and we nodded in agreement and wiped ourselves down with the shirt in turn.    

Of course, Frankie wasn't allowed to get into his lonely bed.  But, have you ever seen three more or less equally sized large lads in a four foot wide bed.  We giggled our way through two more wanks which we administered in strict turn to each other.  I tasted both boys' spunk under the cover of using the shirt on them to mop up the dripping streams.  So, it was well past midnight, and we'd heard Frankie's father arrive home about half past eleven, when the last spurt from Greg's third coming of the evening was over.  Frankie did climb into his fold up bed then and I fell asleep, in the nude, spooned close up against Greg's back.  

Morning came and I was awakened by a knock on the door and the entry of the two young boys.  Duncan had a tray with cups of tea for each of us, just as Billy had experienced the day before, and David was almost overwhelmed by a pile of rugger togs and towels with three clean jockstraps sitting on top.  I sat up and swung my legs out of the side of the bed as I took my cup from Duncan's tray.    

I was more awake than Greg so I stood up and walked, naked, round to the other side of the bed and shook him.  "Wakeup lazybones, your tea is here."    

He opened his eyes sleepily and also sat up on the edge of the bed not realising the young lads were there.  He stretched his arms up and went to take my cup from me thinking it was his.  I stepped back so he stood up, a slight morning hardon jutting out.  Then he saw the two younger lads.  They were overawed at the sight of two nude young giants, especially with the one with the semihard prick.    

Duncan handed Greg his cup and he mumbled, "Thanks".    

This finally woke Frankie who came alive as his brother poked him on the shoulder through the covers and held his cup of tea over him.  Seeing us standing there he also got out and the two young'uns had sight of three young hulks and three goodsized young cocks.    

"I told Mum you called me a rude name," said Duncan, unwisely.    

Frankie looked at him over the top of his cup, walked over to the door and closed it, put the cup down on the chest of drawers and advanced on his brother.  

"You little sneak," he said quietly, "I'm going to tan your arse for you now."    

He grabbed Duncan and I wondered if we were going to get a replay of Billy's experience.  Very much like it.  Duncan squealed as Frankie turned him round against his legs, pulled down his pyjama trousers and gave him two, not very heavy, slaps on his bare arse.  David was laughing his head off so I grabbed him and said he deserved the same as he was an accessory to the taletelling.  I pulled his trousers down and gave him the same treatment with two very light slaps.  When Duncan was turned round again he had a very red face and his boycock was fully erect.  Just about three and a half inches of young rampant flesh was upright.    

Greg snorted as he saw the object.  "Runs in the family, doesn't it?"    

Duncan wriggled free from Frankie's grasp, even more red in the face, and clasped his hands in front of him to save further embarrassment.  I stepped forward and put my arm around his shoulder.    

"Don't worry, Duncan," I said soothingly, "We've all got the same and they all do that, all the time."    
Duncan looked up at me, his lower lip quivering.  I thought he might burst into tears.    

David, not to be outdone, grabbed me round the leg, his pyjama trousers round his ankles, and piped up, "Mine does too, sometimes!"  It hadn't then, the snail was still evident.    

We all burst into laughter and I held Duncan tightly to me and put my other hand on David's shoulder.  "You shouldn't tell tales on Frankie," I said to Duncan.    

At this a tear did roll down his cheek.  "I didn't really.  I wouldn't, he's my best big brother.  I was only teasing.  Then this happened," he said, pointing down to his still rigid dick.    

"Don't worry," I said again, "Frankie'll tell you all about it."    

Frankie came over and knelt down and put his arms round Duncan.  "Come on, kiddo, it's all OK."    
David, probably wondering what it was all about, clasped my leg a bit harder.  I knelt down and enveloped him in a big hug.  "You'll grow up like us soon, too."    

He wriggled contentedly against my chest.  "Mine gets big too, sometimes," he whispered again.    

Greg was a bit left out of all this so he cleared his throat and suggested we'd better get washed and dressed ready for breakfast.  That broke up the scene.  The young'uns pulled up their pyjama trousers and went off with the empty cups while we three went to the bathroom  

Greg had to shave.  Frankie said all he had was blond peach fuzz and he only shaved it off a couple of times a week.  My chin was examined intently by both and they said I'd better get a razor soon.  In fact, Greg lathered me up and shaved my upper lip and in front of my ears 'cause he said I was a bit unsightly.  I washed quickly as they were stamping their feet moaning about waiting for dirty little tykes.  Of course, I was first down for breakfast and met Frankie's Dad who was just a bigger version of him.  He was very affable and wanted to know all about me and the game and whether I had enjoyed myself.  He said he'd been to the same school as the two older boys when he was a boy and then had played Rugger for one of the local clubs.  

The conversation ended when the two young'uns came bounding in.  Both fell silent went they saw me and their Dad, but David came up and stood by me and I pinched his arm in fun and he said I'd helped bath them and he wouldn't mind me as another big brother.  Their Dad said he would have to be off now and gave them both a fatherly peck on the cheek.  He turned to me and said  I and Greg would be very welcome if we ever wanted to come and stay.  The two young'uns beamed at this and as soon as he had gone they both wanted to sit by me.  Their mother brought in cereals and then  plates of cooked breakfast.  I was starving after the energy expended last night!  Greg and Frankie came down soon afterwards and, finally, the girls.  The elder one was obviously smitten by Greg and the younger one kept looking at me but I was listening to Duncan and David.  I found out that Duncan was in the First Year at the Grammar School and was in their Junior House Rugger team.  David said he couldn't wait to go to the big school and had sat the scholarship that year so he could go there in September.  

We left to catch the bus to the school at nine.  Greg and I had thanked Mrs Cooke for putting us up and putting up with us.  Like her husband she said we were welcome to come up any time.  Duncan gave me a great smile and nodded fiercely.  Then we set off.  Duncan, all spruced up in his cap and school blazer, led the way with David.  Duncan insisted on carrying my bag.  I was well in favour.  Greg and the elder girl followed with me and Frankie bringing up the rear at a distance.  The other sister was not in evidence.  Probably because I didn't show any interest!    

Frankie said he'd thought more about what I'd said about Duncan and he definitely would talk to him this weekend.  It was quite convenient as he and Duncan were not going with their mother and father to see the girls in a play on Easter Saturday so he would be giving Duncan his bath.  He would get him talking and then as he would get Duncan to sleep with him he could explain even more things then.  I grinned and said I wouldn't mind helping him.  He asked, rather hesitantly, if I preferred boys and I said I did.  

He grinned back and said, "I thought so, same here!"    I knew I didn't mind talking to Frankie and said I had realised it was like that for me some time ago.    

He nodded and said he had too but it was a bit difficult.  "Lucky all the boys I know like to experiment a bit even if they also have girl friends," he said.    

"Like Greg," I said.    

"Yeah, good example, look at him now."    

Greg and the elder sister were in deep conversation.    

"I can see something developing there," said Frankie.    

"In his pants no doubt," I said.    

Frankie laughed, "Too right, horny bastard!"    

We reached the busstop and were rewarded by a bus appearing immediately.  Frankie paid all the fares explaining his father had given him the money.  Frankie said he would write to me, about `you know what', he said.  Duncan overheard the bit about writing and said he would too.  I had already given Frankie my address as he was coming South to go to Bristol University in the autumn.  

Our coach was waiting at the school gates and after bidding farewell to our hosts we all climbed aboard.  Billy came and sat by me again.  He was full of the joys of spring.  We whispered together about our adventures and, again, he'd had the same experiences as we had.  

"I am enjoying this trip," he said enthusiastically.  

He'd had a quick chat with Monty while waiting for the coach to arrive and, apparently, he was also wellsatisfied with the trip as well for the same reasons as us.  I'd seen Monty in the town with a girl one Saturday morning so I thought Frankie must be right!  

 At our destination we drove along a seemingly unending narrow road ending up at a Gothic horror of a building.  Paul stood up as we approached and explained the front part was mainly a monastery and the school was attached.  When we stopped at a side entrance we were met by a phalanx of very neat young lads who took us all, individually, carrying our bags for us, through to a vaulted dininghall.  A very large, jolly monk welcomed us, said he was the subprior and deputy headmaster.   He also said  he knew Paul and Brian from last year's visit and that he hoped we would have a good game and comfortable stay.  The lad who had attached himself to me was a bit younger than I was.  He was a small, redhaired Irish lad named Sean and I took to him immediately.  He explained that as a lot of the boys had gone home for the Easter holidays the ones left who made up the team we were playing weren't all their proper First XV.     

We were then taken upstairs and found the whole eighteen of us would be sleeping in one big dormitory.  We dumped our bags and went down to have lunch.  I wondered what they ate in a monastery but the Irish lad said he didn't know what the monks had but their food was OK. It was, there was plenty!  The match was scheduled for half past two so we had a bit of a look at the place and the lad said he would show me more after the match.  He wasn't playing as he was only in their Fourth Year but his older brother, Aidan, in their First Year Sixth, was.  

We collected our rugger togs from the dormitory and went out to some separate changingrooms alongside the pitches.  The other side were already there changed and were being harangued by another large monk who turned out to be their Rugger master.  I decided that I would wear my new First XV shirt dad had bought me.  I was a bit miffed as the other two Fifth Formers had actually played and here was I, Captain of the Junior XV, like the proverbial spare prick at a wedding.  Anyway I knew I was to be first reserve if anything happened.  It did.  Within twenty minutes of the start of the game one of their side tackled one of our wings, the one with the dodgy ankle, and lifted his knee at the wrong time and caught him straight in the goolies.  As he writhed about on the ground, the referee, another monk but in football kit, whistled up.  He was carted off, supported by three of the eight lads watching and I was on.  Paul moved our number fifteen into the position of the injured lad and I was to be full back.  Oh crumbs.  This meant I had to intercept anyone who eluded the rest of the wings and also, as he was telling me where to go, Paul said I was to take any kicks for goal.  

Although they weren't their strongest side they were all tough lads and ran around harrying our wings.  They had already scored one try, unconverted, before I came on so our lot had to wake their ideas up.  Paul scored a very nice try soon after I came on.  Almost centrally between their goal posts.  I had to take the kick.  I was very nervous.  It was a bit different playing in the First XV.  I had to do my best.  I did.  I hit the ball squarely and it sailed over the crossbar.  Thank God!  We were ahead.  We got to halftime with no more scores.  I had to tackle a rather small wing who came charging towards me.  As it had rained the day before I got liberally coated with mud all down one side of my new shirt and my shorts.  After half time we managed to put on the pressure and scored twice more fairly quickly.  I kicked both conversions and got them!  Brian patted me on the back as he went past.  "Good lad," he said.  My chest swelled with pride.  They got one more try.  I tackled a biggish lad later and stopped him scoring as he was haring towards the goalposts when I grabbed him by the waist.  Luckily one of our side grabbed the ball as he dropped it and kicked it into touch.  I was getting braver and had another go when one of theirs eluded our forwards and the pair of us ended up in a long slide across the wet grass.   I now had mud and grime everywhere, even in my hair.  We got a final try and I converted that one even though the angle was awkward.  So we had won and as we came off their side stood and clapped as we went through into the changing room.  One of their side, it must have been Aidan 'cause he was redhaired like his brother, patted me on the back as well and I got congratulated by most of the lads in the team as I stripped off my togs to get under the shower.  Noone had converted any of the tries on the tour so far so I was flavour of the month!  

While showering I was able to check out most of the lads in the other team as well.  Again, nothing outstanding.  The usual variation of low swingers to tight sacs, dark hair through brown, then  red to blond, leg hair and no leg hair, but cocks were very uniform in size as they flopped about as the lads got in and out of the showers.  Most were more shrivelled as they got in and less when they emerged from the steamy water.    

A voice in my ear said "They're the same as us, aren't they?"   

It was Llew Johns who'd only just got stripped off ready to shower as he had been talking to someone or other as usual.  

"Thought you'd be having a good look, eh?"  

 I couldn't very well colour up as I was rather beetroot red anyway from the hot water.    

"You'll go all wrinkled  if you stay under the shower much longer."  He paused and eyed me up and down.  "No, that bit won't wrinkle!"    

I shot him a grin and got out of the shower before `that bit' did it's usual standup act.  There was a general silence other than the running water.  No singing.  Perhaps the Catholic boys didn't know the rude songs.  More likely they didn't sing them because of the nearness of the monastery.  As I towelled myself I wondered if the boys at the school were ardent wankers like all my friends.  In a dormitory holding twenty I expect there was plenty of nightly activity.  I couldn't very well ask my redhaired guide something as personal as that, could I?  

One of the Sixth Formers came along and said I'd done well.  He was holding a bottle of embrocation.  I asked if I could have some as where I'd tackled that last lad and slid along the ground my hip and thigh was sore.  He tipped some into my hand and I rubbed it in gratefully.  The warmth soon made it feel better.  I dressed and rolled up my very muddy shorts and socks and sweaty jockstrap in an extremely muddy jersey.   I then needed a pee so, remembering my experience with the liniment the day before, awkwardly got my cock out with my left, untainted hand.  I nearly pissed my pants.  I wasn't used to getting it out that way round.  I wondered how lefthanders managed.  I would have to watch Jacky Melrose in our form as I knew he was lefthanded.  Actually he was one of the very few in our form I hadn't had a wank with.  

I came out of the bog still pondering that problem and wandered across to the school.  My guide, Sean, was waiting in the porch of the main building and looked glad to see me.  It was getting rather chilly.  We were supplied with a hot mug of tea and the lad told me supper was at seven o'clock.  I thought I might just last out until then.  We were joined by the rest of the two teams and I saw Llew straggle in last with his guide.  They were rabbiting on together was he another Welsh rabbiter as well?   The pun was good!  I must tell Gerry when I get back!  

We had a good, if stodgy supper.  Some kind of meat pie followed by what my guide said they called dead baby's leg  a steamed suet pudding with oceans of custard.  Wasn't bad. Filled a few holes!  At the end, when all had finished eating, Paul stood up and thanked the school for having us and we hoped the other team weren't too disappointed not having won at home.  He said we'd had a very good time and this was his third time visiting the school on an Easter Tour and it was a great privilege.  We all clapped and everyone looked pleased.  Their captain then stood up and said he couldn't add anything else because they'd enjoyed it immensely too.  Then a monk got up and said a prayer and we all trooped out.  My guide said he had to be in his dormitory by eight thirty and lights went out at nine thirty.  

It was nearly eight thirty and we followed Paul and Brian up the stairs and rather quietly entered the dormitory.  It was a bit bare, Sean had told me the boys usually in there were either at home, or the others had been shifted to other dorms, so all their belongings had been removed.  Still it was warm and we sat around chatting, with quite a few still rubbing in liniment on aching limbs, until just after nine when someone remembered that lights out was nine thirty and it meant that  a central switch was pulled.  Everyone then started to get undressed fully ready for bed and in dribs and drabs we went off to the communal bog and washroom to clean teeth and have a pee or whatever.  When I got back Paul and Brian were standing chatting, in the nude, at the end of Paul's bed.  One or two of the boys just had pyjama trousers on but gradually as everyone came in all togs came off.  In the end there were only Greg and Monty Williams still with their pyjama trousers on.  I had cast mine off when I saw Davie Cartwright and Duncan Potts drop theirs.  

There was a general murmuring of expectancy and Brian called quietly for silence.  We stood in a largish circle to hear what he had to say.  He started off by saying this was his fourth Easter Tour and he had to tell the three young lads, meaning Billy, Monty and me, and remind all the others, that there was a tradition that all the scorers had to be thanked in some way.  He said that the lady mayoress of Cambridge never attended the boatrace as she was told once that she had to kiss the cox of the winning crew and misunderstood.  There was to be no misunderstanding tonight, the tradition was that all squad members kissed the cocks of the scorers.  There was a general giggle at this and an increase in the air of excitement with grins all round.  It was a well kept secret 'cause although almost all of the older lads had been on Tours before and knew about the tradition it was obvious that we three young'uns had never heard of it.  Brian called out the names of all who had scored tries, including Paul, and they lined up beside him.  

Then a voice near me said in a deep voice, "There's one other who should be there".  

The voice came from Tom Pearson, the wing whose bollocks had been kneed before I went on as substitute.  He went on, "We haven't had a goal kicker like young Jamie for years.  He won the match for us today so he should be in the lineup, too."  

There was a general `hear hear' and I blushed my usual shade of red.  Hands on either side of me propelled me across the room so I was standing next to Paul.  Then with a series of giggles all the squad marched past and pressed their lips to all us scorers' dangling members.  In the end there was a general flurry of kisses all round and I think I kissed at least a dozen of the seventeen other cocks on display.  By his time my dong was beginning to rise a bit and so were most of the others.  I went back and stood next to Paul again.  

"Friends, Romans and countrymen," he intoned and all fell silent, "As Captain I declare the final Games of the Tour open.  To your places."  

I didn't know what was going to happen.  I thought from the position we were in we were going to have a massive circlejerk.  But no, six pairs formed quickly, then us three young'uns were instructed to get by the person on our left.  This meant Paul for me.  Some of the older lads threw towels or rugger shirts on the mats on the floor and Paul then intoned, "One, two, three, go."  I copied the others who were standing on the right and grasped my partner's tool.  Paul went rigid very quickly and I was soon wanking my idol.  I had his foreskin fully back and kept up a steady pace.  A couple of the other lads fired their wads then I felt Paul was ready.  I quickened my pace a bit and made my downstrokes harder.  He came with a fountain of creamy spunk and he clasped my hand to stop me.  He got his breath back and we watched as the rest of the nine came soon after.  

Paul whispered to me, "You've wanted to do that for long time, eh?"  

I was almost weeping with joy.  I had tossed off my hero.  But things weren't finished.  The instruction was given that the person on the wanker's right was to deal the next hand, as Paul put it.  Davie Cartwright gripped my already erect shaft and tossed me off with a steady, practised rhythm.  I shot my usual mighty jet, well over the towel strategically placed in front of me and Paul.  

Dave whistled in my ear then said, "You're a juicy little bugger, ain't you?"  

Another voice came from across the room, "Christ, he's got a kick like a mule and squirts like a fireman's hose."  

Another voice added, "...And he's got a dong like a donkey!"  

There was general laughter at this accompanied by the final firing of the remaining wads.  I felt really proud, not only because I'd taken part in all these celebrations but, on looking round, I was not at all dismayed by the size of my cock.  I was amongst the longest on display when fully erect.  At sixteen I knew I was well endowed.  Would it get any bigger?    

We were just retrieving our shirts and towels from the floor I noticed my muddy shirt now had at least two loads of spunk deposited on it which didn't show once I'd rolled it up a couple of times when someone reminded us lights went out at nine thirty.  There was a general rush by most for a final pee and I'd just got into bed, as I was, in the nude when the lights went out.  There was an anguished cry of "Oh, fuck!" from someone along the row and an amount of movement.  The only light was from the tall windows so it took a bit of getting used to.  A large figure loomed at the side of my bed.  

"Move over, Jamie," it said.  

I moved over on the narrow bed and the large figure rolled into me.  It was big Brian Masters.  He was also nude as I could feel his body against mine.  

"Got to congratulate you on all those kicks, " he said, "You've got a place next year for sure!"  

He edged a bit closer.  

"Tight squeeze in here, they didn't make these for big lads like me anyway but with two aboard it's even more cramped."  

I giggled and asked, "I wonder if it's two aboard usually?"  

"No question of it," he replied.  "Had a long chat the year before last with my guide and he said most nights only half the beds got slept in.  Was a bit disappointed he couldn't oblige but the rules are no mixing in dorms with outsiders."  He snorted.  "Rules here are a bit strict.  They have to be checked in their own beds each night by the master on duty.  They all have to have their arms outside the bed clothes."  

"Why's that?" I asked, rather stupidly, realising the reason as soon as I said the words.  "Yeah, I know," I continued, without stopping, "To prevent youknowwhat...."  

"Quite correct, Sherlock," he said, putting a large muscly arm over me and patting my back.  "But as soon as he's gone and light's out, bingo!..."  He laughed.  

I was aware of activity in the bed two along.  I could see a shadowy figure kneeling across the legs of the recumbent person below.  I felt my ever ready dong begin to twitch.  It was pressed against Brian's rough hairy stomach.  

"Getting horny again?" he enquired.  

I felt his own thick tool begin to stir against my leg.  He massaged the base of my spine.  I got even more horny.  

"Have you had a good time so far?" he asked.   

 I said I'd enjoyed every minute especially with Llew and Greg and the lads we'd stayed with.  

"Plenty of activity?", he asked.  

"Yeah, terrific.  What about you?"  

"The usual," he replied, "Exhausted the first two nights with your pal Monty and two brothers who were insatiable, so that was four times.  Then last night I was with Paul and we stayed with the Phelps."  He paused.  "Those twins, Martin and George."  

"Tweedledum and Tweedledee?" I asked.  

"Yep, my Dad and theirs were at the same medical school and we're all going there in September, too."  

 Of course, Dr Masters was our GP.  

"They've got lots of hair," I said.  

"Been like that since they were sixteen.  They were firing off when they were eleven and I felt right out of it when I used to go and stay with them 'cause I never produced anything then, just the buzz...  I beat 'em as soon as I started, though.   Never more than two squirts and they're done.  Good lads though."  

"You've been here lots as well?"  

 "Yep, four times."  

"Always like this?"  

 He laughed, "Always.  When boys are together they'll always go for it, it doesn't matter who they are."  He snorted.  "Tell you, the first time I was here, a sprog of sixteen like you, the Captain announced as we were in a monastery we'd better have communion with each other and then he went on `Let us spray'.  A couple of the more religious of our lot said he wasn't to be blasphemous but they were still at the forefront of the activities.  In fact, they both whacked me off that night."  

I felt his steadily rising dong pressing into me.  I reached down and felt it.  It was thicker even than the shaft that Jack Minns' had who was one of our Scouts.  Jack's rod was short but ever so bulky.  But Brian had length as well.  

"I wouldn't mind your assistance," he said.  

I took another look at the figures on the other bed.  The kneeling one was Billy and he was whacking off Dave Cartwright quite slowly.   I rolled out of bed and whispered, "Lie in the middle."  

Brian moved across and looked up at me.  I pulled back the covers and knelt over him.  His shaft was fully rigid and lay straight up his belly.  I gripped it and watched his eyes as I began to toss him off.  He smiled up at me, closed his eyes and opened his mouth.  I gave him about eighty good strokes and with a gasp he shot back over himself.  It certainly wasn't just two squirts, it was a fair old fountain which continued until the top of his chest  was liberally coated with cum.  I held his dick tight as he came down from his climax.  

"Thanks Jamie, that was great," he murmured.  He lay still for a few moments.  "Got to move on," he said, extricating himself from between my legs and wiping his copious load off  with my top sheet.  "Someone will be along soon."  

With that he moved off and padded across the room.  I looked along the row of beds and the kneeling Billy had also gone.  Soon was in less than a minute.  Another nude figure loomed above me preceded by a strong smell of liniment.  It was Tom Pearson the bollockbattered, ankletwisted  wing.  

He slid in beside me and reached for my shaft.  I had gone stiff while wanking Brian and was rather disappointed when he'd, as it seemed, left me in the lurch.  Although he'd said someone would be along soon my cock was aching for a helping hand and I was just about to start things rolling by myself when Tom appeared.  

"Gosh, you've got a nice one," he murmured.  

I reached down and found his cock was still a bit sticky as he'd obviously only just come.  It was pretty stiff though.  I gingerly felt down to his bollocks.  

"Are you OK?" I asked, knowing from my one experience of being tapped just there when I was fourteen that the pain was excruciating and he'd been more than tapped.  

"OK now and still fully functioning," he said.  "Not the first time I've been hit there but, God, it hurts."  

"I know," I said with feeling, "I've only been hit there once and that was enough."  

"Bit more worried about my ankle, that still hurts."  

With that he ringed my cock and started to jack me off.  He was smaller than Brian so we just about fitted on the bed facing each other.  Then I realised he was lefthanded and I wasn't used to my cock being handled from that side.  After a little while he moved his other hand slightly and I felt a new sensation.  He was gently rubbing my left nipple.  That did it.  The combination of waiting, lefthanded wanking and now, sensitivity from my chest, made me buck my hips suddenly as I shot a huge load of cum straight up his chest.  

"Bloody hell, lad," he said quite loudly, "You've caught me right under the fucking chin!"  

There was a murmur of laughter from other beds.  "....Shoots from the hip, too," came a voice from the bed opposite.  I was panting with the exertion.  Tom moved his hand from my cock and put his arm over my shoulder.  He pulled us together.  I felt the squelch as our chests met with the layer of my cum in between.  

"Just had it but I want it again bad.  Will you do it?"  

I needed no second bidding and grasped his whippy cock firmly.  It took a while but he came with a fullthroated `aghhhh' followed closely by several warm gobbets of spunk which hit me squarely on the chest.  He took a few deep breaths then stuck a finger in the cum mixture on my chest and put it to my lips.  

"Thanks, Jamie, see you soon."  

He too disappeared into the gloom and I heard a muffled whisper and a bed creak as he joined someone on the other side of the room.  In the stillness I was now very aware of numerous other beds creaking and the sounds of heavy breathing, sighs and groans and the intermittent, quite loud `aghhhh' as someone else obviously came with a vengeance.  

I was feeling fairly tired by now but the Night Games weren't finished yet.  Over the next two hours two more shadowy figures appeared and we reciprocated.  By the time the second slid out of my bed my chest and belly were a real sticky mess.  I merely turned over, pulled the covers back over me and let what hadn't dried on me drip onto the bottom sheet.  I fell asleep, very tired, sated but very happy.  

 Next thing I knew the covers were being pulled back roughly.  It was Billy.  It was morning.  I looked at my watch, it was half past six.   Daylight was now coming through the tall windows.  

"Come on, my old cock, they didn't exhaust you, did they?  I came five times, what about you?" he whispered hoarsely.  

I counted up in my head.  "Only four, but I made five come."  

He ginned down at me.  He looked so full of life and as I peered at him standing by my bed I could see his pubic hair was matted with dried spunk.  

"Is that all yours?" I asked, pointing.  

He grinned, "Naw!  It's a good mixture though."  

He peered down at my equally matted bush.  "Looks as if you've got the same.  Come on, we'd better get to the bathroom before this lot wake up."  

I sat up in bed and looked around and counted.  Only ten of the beds were occupied.  Six had large heaps in them with pairs of heads sticking out of the top of the covers.  I was alone and three others were.  Billy saw me looking.  

"I was in all night with Tony Price over there after we finished.  He took ages to come the last time, fair made my arm ache and I didn't shoot much that time either."  

As far as I could see the only other single occupants were Brian and Paul.  Both too big to share a narrow bed with someone else all night.  But then, some of the others were pretty massive.  Someone was missing.  The door swung open and a nude Dave Cartwright blundered through having obviously  just been to the bogs.  He waved a limp dick at us and flopped onto a vacant bed.  
Billy hissed in my ear, "Tony Price said that Dave there was aiming for seven last night.  D'you think he did, he looks shagged out?"  

I rolled out of bed and went over to where Dave was lying.  He was flat out and sound asleep.  I would find out later.  I went back to my bed space and grubbed about and found my towel. I beckoned to Billy, who scurried and fetched his towel, and  went to the door.  I cautiously opened the door as we were both in the nude, peered out and realised there would be no one about so we went in where there were three showers.  By the time we'd got under the end one we both had real stiffies.  Billy nodded at mine and we stood under the shower facing each other and tossed each other off while grinning maniacally at each other through the curtain of hot water.  I came a few strokes before him and just as he'd finished spurting the door was pushed open and another couple of lads came through, Tony Price and one of my visitors in the night, Martin Proctor.  They stood under the next shower showing off slight morning rises but I don't think they twigged we'd just had a joint wank.  

Billy asked them how they'd got on the previous night.  Martin Proctor grinned at me and said I'd given him something to remember as his fourth.  Tony Price said he'd had four as well.  I snidely said Billy'd had six to my five, including the ones we'd had this morning.  They made comments about how randy young kids were these days but, as we were drying ourselves, Billy nudged me and I turned and saw that the pair were busily beating each other's meat under the shower just as we'd just done.  

"Randy buggers at their age, too," snorted Billy.  

We stood staring at the two lads until Billy nudged me again and said he didn't know who'd come first, them or me as I was getting rigid again.  God, my dick was a bit sore but I could have done with another bit of rough handling especially while watching those two at it.   There were a couple of grunts of delight as flurries of spunk shot almost simultaneously from their knobends.  

"Good show, lads," said Billy as they stepped from under the water.  

"You little bastards stood and watched us, eh?" said Tony acting menacingly and advancing on Billy, "I'll have your knackers, boy!"  

He made a halfhearted lowdown grab at Billy  who jumped back out of the way and laughed.  Actually both of them were shorter than me and not much taller than Billy, so much for being `little bastards'.  They grabbed their towels and flicked them at us, but we didn't move so that enterprise soon petered out.  As we finished drying off and they started we discussed the Tour and went over  the night's adventures.  Martin laughed and said Billy actually had a good pair of knackers and he knew from personal experience last night they produced plenty.  So Martin had also been one of Billy's partners and that's why they weren't too bothered at us seeing them wank each other off.  They both said it had been the best Tour they'd been on.  As our first, Billy and I said it had been terrific and we couldn't wait for the next!  

On the coach on our way back I again sat next to Billy.  He was so exhausted from his exertions he slept almost all the way home.   Dave Cartwright did boast he'd come seven times and I noticed he was asleep next to Martin Proctor even before Billy dropped off.   After saying our goodbyes to everyone Paul and I walked the halfmile or so back to our homes.  There was quite a reception.  No one was at my house and Mrs Phillips came out to call me in next door.  She explained that my parents had had a message that my Gran was ill and they'd decided to drive down to check on her and would be back on Easter Monday.  Meanwhile she was going to feed me.  Paul came out into the porch as she was telling me this and said he would stay with me in the house.  My heart soared.  Mrs Phillips told me to bring her my dirty washing when I'd unpacked and there would be some lunch ready.  When I got back Mr Phillips had opened a bottle of champagne.  Not only for us returning triumphant but because there had been a letter waiting for Paul offering him an Exhibition at one of the prestigious Cambridge colleges where he was to read English!