Easter Rugger Tours
Before and After
Chapter 3 - The Next Year
Paul came back with me after lunch and we had a long, long talk. I told him how I'd longed to be with him and he said he'd felt the same for me since I was thirteen and he was fifteen.
"All that time wasted," he said.
We made up for it that weekend. We spent a great deal of it in my bed with my happiest moment sucking on him for the first time until he came.
On the Wednesday after Easter Monday I had a letter from Frankie. He said he'd had a talk with Duncan and he now knew everything he should. There was a short note enclosed from Duncan who said he was `Looking forward to coming soon'. Then, after a more than necessary gap, `to see you!' I think I got the message! We continued to correspond all during the summer and I found that Greg was writing to Janice as well!
The Easter holidays were full of more enjoyment. Both Paul and I had to swot for our respective exams so we met at my house on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and at his on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Each day we worked hard until we couldn't remember any more then relaxed ourselves with a wank or a suck. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons I met up with Billy and Kish at Gerry's basement where we did more revision, listened to Billy telling of his prowess on the Tour and finishing with some variation of wanking, sucking or fucking. Saturdays the full group of us Fifth Years, or those who were available, met up at my house where my mother would supply sandwiches, cakes and lashings of tea. My parents approved of the three. Dad always referred to Billy as `Bruiser Bill', even to his face which Billy always accepted goodnaturedly. Billy's bulk and general demeanour belied a rather gentle streak in him and my father was a far less aweinspiring figure than Billy's somewhat authoritarian father. Kish adored my Mum and I thought Kish's mother was lovely too. Mum always said he was `Kish the Charmer' and they would often have little private chats in the kitchen much to my chagrin. Dad did refer once to `Gerry the Glamour Puss'. I wondered at the time if he had sensed Gerry's likings. In any case, as his mother owned two hairdressing salons at the time, he always had his hair done in the latest fashion and his mother also paid up for rather lavish clothes for him. I know, as I came in for odd pullovers and shirts which he had got fed up with. If my parents went out we repaired to my bedroom for the usual mutual session, if not, we sauntered to Gerry's where we indulged ourselves vigorously until we exhausted ourselves. Quite often we slept over at his and had a repeat in the morning. His mother was a shadowy figure and any father never seemed to be around.
I was telling Paul about the previous day's session with the others one Friday. He was very quiet until the afternoon when he said he was feeling really horny. This was our usual signal but today he said very quietly that he wanted me to fuck him. This was my most cherished hope. I wanted it for both of us. I must admit that I muffed it a bit. He found some Vaseline and I greased him and made him well and ready. He said it was his first time and grinned and said I was obviously very well practised. I was so rampant at the thought of fucking my idol I had hardly got more than an inch into him when his muscles clamped on me and I shot my load, full stop. I apologised and he said better luck on Monday. Monday was perfect and so was every time after that. The summer term came and as he'd finished his exams he stayed at home quite a lot reading. I skived off cricket and we spent Thursday afternoons in bed fucking and sucking. He never seemed to want to fuck me, something I begged him to do. He did try it once during that time but said he much preferred me doing it to him and then sucking him off .
I don't know whether it was the relentless activity but my hormones went into overdrive from just after Easter. In a matter of a few weeks, as well as my legs sprouting a covering of black wiry hairs and finding I had to start shaving in earnest, my cock and balls also had another growth spurt. I was now a good inch longer than Billy and matched up exactly with Paul whose measurements I'd noted very carefully with a ruler one afternoon just after we returned from the Tour. Of course, the curse was, I developed a good set of spots and shaving in between often resulted in a bloody mess. Gerry was also having a raging hormone spell as well and he too was getting both taller and hairier. His spots were more pervasive even than mine and he was forever trying out new face washes and creams which had no effect. They usually made the crop even redder and much more noticeable. His cock was also inching forward at a steady rate and was almost the same length as mine. Billy, on the other hand, was getting an appreciable increase in girth. Gerry kept careful note of all these changes in each of us and, being the biologist he was, made graphs of change over time much to our and Kish's amusement. Kish, too, was also measured and charted regularly. His wiry prick was lengthening more but didn't seem to thicken much. This was no worry to him or us. Especially us, as he generally fucked both of us on the frequent after-school meetings in Gerry's basement.
Poor Kish. He said he looked on Gerry's basement as being his haven of rest. We said he never rested much while there and we didn't either. His problem also was a very strict and hardworking father who expected Kish not only to do well at school but to help in the shop and tutor his twelveyearold brother who was also at our school but was, according to Kish, a lazy little sod.. As Kish had to sleep in the same room as Varun he said he was glad of our friendship as he daren't toss off in bed because of his brother who was always telling tales to his father and was a nosy little tyke as well. Apparently, he was always trying to take a peek at Kish when he was dressing or undressing. We both told him he should give the lad six good inches up his butt but Kish said he'd scream the house down. A very heavily acned and thickcocked Billy Hall didn't join in very much now during the week as he was also kept with his nose to the grindstone by his staunchly Methodist father. His mother had found a couple of raunchy mags under Bill's mattress so he was kept on a short leash in case he impregnated any of the local girls' school inmates, although his excursions to my house or Gerry's on Saturdays were seen as entirely innocent. Needless to say he was also full of spunk during the week which we knew he spilled regularly in the bogs at lunchtimes and he also managed to work out his frustrations by being a very zealous SubPrefect. Woe betide any ThirdFormer who crossed Billy's path when Billy was itching for another wank. As this was within five minutes of the last one, woe betide any ThirdFormer who.... So were my friends also developing.
During the summer half term we had the visit of the French lads. I was in for a surprise. I hadn't bothered to read the letter from school so when Mum announced that we would have two visitors I was a bit taken aback. JeanPierre was going to be accompanied by his now fourteenyearold brother Albert. I hadn't met Albert before as he was always shipped off to his grandmother's for the duration of my stay. My room had another putyouup bed installed ready for the invasion. Albert was the spitting image of JeanPierre when he was fourteen. And God, wasn't he horny. The first night the French onslaught began as he had been primed by his equally horny brother. We sucked and wanked each other all night. I don't know how we managed to get out of bed the next day and I don't know how we managed to find the energy for more sucking and wanking the next night having spent the afternoon in Gerry's basement sucking and wanking with his French friend, Georges, and Kish as well. All six of us came at least three times in the space of two hours and my poor sore dick was put through it's paces two or three times every night and often twice during the day during the ten days of their stay.
As he'd got into Cambridge Paul's father gave him and his best friend Brian Masters a joint holiday on a Greek island during the first two weeks of August. At the last moment Brian couldn't go because he had food poisoning so I went instead. I don't know what the owners of the hotel thought of two English boys who went to bed every night at nine o'clock and didn't get up until late and then retired for a siesta in the afternoon! We did get suntanned as Paul said we couldn't possibly go home pale and wan, but we spent as much time exploring and experiencing each other's bodies as we could. It was during this holiday that Paul began to fuck me almost as much as I fucked him.
When we got home there were more celebrations as both of us had done extremely well in our exams. Paul was offered a further scholarship and Dad said as soon as I was seventeen I could have driving lessons. I then went off to France immediately and experienced two weeks in the South of France with JeanPierre and Albert at their grandmother's lovely house. The first night we just wanked and sucked but after that we fucked each other solid for the rest of the time. That extra element was added right from the second day. We had decided to bake ourselves brown by roaming off into the countryside each day then stripping off completely.
As we lay naked in the grass that first morning idly stroking each other's rigid shafts JeanPierre proudly told me that he was shagging Albert regularly every night and he wanted to share him with me. Albert grinned and nodded enthusiastically as JeanPierre told me this. We waited until that night before I had my first go, and, as Albert sucked on his brother, I impaled him, to my amazement, quite easily on my now not inconsiderable length. After that Albert couldn't get enough of my cock. His was the first young arse I had savoured and although we both let him do it to us whenever he wanted he preferred us doing it to him at least four times between us every day, either in the sunshine or on the sheepskins on the bedroom floor. In fact, as JeanPierre demonstrated Albert also liked having his ring licked and probed. I wasn't too keen on doing that but after the pair of them had done it to me in conjunction with one of them sucking and licking my cock and balls at the same time I lubricated both of them that way each time before shagging them.
On the Thursday of the first week we three were exploring the hills a bit further up from their grandmother's and, as usual, had stripped off completely to get an allover tan. JeanPierre pointed out a rather dilapidated barn up the track and recounted how he'd spied on a young lad who was looking after a herd of goats the previous summer. This lad had left his goats and gone into the barn and JeanPierre said he'd crept up and looked through a broken bit of the wall and saw the kid with his shorts round his ankles having a wank.
He said he didn't do anything but watch, then with a grin said, "I had to do it after, as well."
It was strange because just as we were laughing at his story we heard the clanking sound of goat bells. We lay flat in the grass as a herd of goats appeared followed by a very tanned boy of about fifteen or so clad only in shorts and sandals. JeanPierre grinned and nodded his head so we knew it was the same lad. The boy looked around then strode up the short track to the ruined barn and went in. JeanPierre mouthed, "Come on" and began to creep, almost on all fours, in the grass beside the track. The goats took no notice. As we reached the barn JeanPierre stood up and peeped in the doorway. He signalled to us that we should stand up and the three of us nude boys walked in. The lad had kicked off his shorts and was standing intently fisting his rigid shaft. JeanPierre said "Bon Jour" and the kid turned round openmouthed. He saw we were all naked and, of course, both I and Albert were going hard rapidly. The lad smiled.
He dropped hold of his cock and said, "Hello, I'm Armand".
He looked straight at JeanPierre and said "I saw you last year watching me having a wank. I followed you afterwards and saw you do the same just down there."
Poor old JeanPierre. Albert and I burst out laughing and so did JeanPierre. We all introduced ourselves and the boy complimented me on my French. He said he helped his father during the summer while he was on holiday from his Lycée and he was nearly sixteen and would be doing his baccalaureate the next year. To cut a long story short he tossed the three of us off and Albert and I wanked him that afternoon and we arranged to meet him the next day when we repeated the session. We met him every day after that, barring Sunday, until the end of our stay and tried out various combinations not in the barn but in a rather nice grassy dell until on the last afternoon he insisted that all three of us should shag him and all three of us sucked him off in reciprocation. The first things Gerry remarked on after I got back from that whole month of wonderful sex was that my legs were now even more covered in black hair, my ever ready cock was now almost an inch longer than his and, finally, I was as brown all over as Kish. Kish and I compared each other's brownness and we agreed there was little between us. I heard also that Kish and Billy had been exercising avidly with Gerry in my absence as both their fathers had relented a bit over working them so hard and all three of them had also done well in their exams.
There was a pile of post for me when I eventually got home. Gareth in Wales sent his best wishes and hoped to see me when I was `available', as he put it, as he and Llew had missed my chatter and input, changed to output. Dirty sod! So Llew had been on holiday with him! Three letters from Frankie detailed how he and his brothers were getting on. I asked Mum if Frankie could come and stay on his way to take up his place at Bristol. That worked out well as he came up early and stayed the week Mum and Dad went off on holiday at the beginning of September and I'd started back at school again. I introduced him to Gerry and Kish who had joined me and Billy in the First Year Sixth and we managed a few sex sessions together which really delighted Frankie who turned out to be almost more horny than us!
I was very sad when Paul went off to Cambridge at the beginning of October as I hadn't seen much of him over the rest of the summer as he got a job in London to help pay his way as he said he didn't want to be a burden on his father. However, we did celebrate his going with a really intense afternoon up in my room when no one else was home and I'd skived off school complaining of stomach ache. Both of us ached elsewhere after that session!
Before he went off to Cambridge I got my permanent place in the First XV and he was so pleased when I kicked two penalties to win our first game of the term. After that game, while down in the cellar, Gerry confided in me than he really liked boys so I was able to tell him about me and Paul as well. We still had a wank or a suck or a fuck with the other two but my sessions with Gerry became more and more intense and we spent a lot of time in each other's company. As I was doing Physics with Pure and Applied Maths and he was doing Biology with Physics and Chemistry being together so much was not at all strange to our schoolmates.
Frankie came and stayed during his first term reading week and as it coincided with my half term and his brother Duncan's he also came and stayed. As well as exploring London we helped Duncan explore himself and us. Frankie had initiated him into the joys of mutual masturbation after Easter. Duncan was now the typical teenager having just turned thirteen and was as randy as I was at that age so he continually wanted us to toss him off to experience the delights of cumming. His climaxes were still dry but on the Thursday night I was rubbing his growing young cock for the third time and was doing it very fast and hard when he almost had a seizure and then a few drops of watery fluid spurted from his slit. There was no stopping him after that and he demanded to be wanked off almost continuously for the next three hours. I lost count of the number of times he went rigid all over but he didn't produce any more spunk until the next day. We then had to watch every time he came to see if there was any more. It became a real ritual and by the time he went home he'd produced about ten spots of thin spunk but was over the moon. In his Christmas card to me was a small piece of folded loo paper which was all gummed together. There was a separate note recounting the joy he now felt as he was producing much more and he was sending me the results of his last wank! I was very glad I was able to open that card in the privacy of my bedroom!
I was still a fervent Scout and Monday and Friday nights were still a source of further sexual outlet. As a Patrol Leader there were numerous opportunities for onetoone tuition of the younger members for their various badges with their young members and mine being examined as well. I was always amazed that every boy I came in any contact with was fixated on the object between his legs. One or two seemed, at first, reluctant to admit their daily activities but those with older brothers or cousins were always ready and willing. Once you got them talking one heard quite incredible stories of the frequency of the older lads and how some of them got themselves off. One lad kept us spellbound on a camping trip describing how his eighteenyearold brother often tossed himself off while lying with his legs up the bedroom wall so his spunk squirted into his mouth. Unfortunately we couldn't try it ourselves in the tent because of the canvas walls and when I tried it at home I nearly passed out because of the rush of blood to my head! With the reluctants a quiet word with a couple of other lads who would then, rather openly, display their talents, was enough. As they watched the performance a hand massaging the front of their shorts was all that was needed. It never failed!
Billy and I were asked if we would help to coach the Third Years' Rugby team. Kish's brother Varun was in it and I now had a devoted follower and slave. He would wait outside our changing room on Tuesdays and insist he carried the rugby balls out on the pitch and after practice trotted behind me carrying them back. Kish told me that I was a great topic of conversation every bedtime. Then, just before Christmas, Kish joined Gerry and me in the cellar after school one day and recounted how he'd caught Varun at the weekend in the storeroom at the shop having a wank. The boy was very embarrassed and Kish said he'd really laid it on thick that night as they were getting ready for bed telling the lad he would tell me what an evil, dirty child he was. The poor kid blubbed until Kish told him to shut up and keep quiet, then held him down and stripped him. The kid started to howl again but Kish said he grabbed the lad's bollocks and told him if he made another sound he'd squeeze them tight. He said the lad was quite welldeveloped for his age and he found out by questioning him between his sobs he'd been experimenting during the Summer holiday with a friend in the same form and they'd both discovered within a week of each other that they could come properly.
Kish said that by then Varun had twigged that he, Kish, of course, must know all about it and, anyway he was trying not to laugh as he crossquestioned his young brother. In the end Kish said to him that he'd better give him some real instruction so he stripped off as well and he and Varun were now spunk brothers as well. We wanted to know if Varun needed any further instruction but Kish said I was still his secret weapon and would use telling me as the ultimate sanction for a while.
I reached my seventeenth birthday in January and one of my presents was the series of driving lessons as promised. My father also paid for me to take the terrible trio, as Dad called them, out to a local restaurant for a meal on the Saturday evening. Before that, after our usual First Fifteen match, Gerry, Kish and Billy and I were in Gerry's cellar when they insisted I had to fuck each of them in turn. In true friendship each fucked me as well. By the time I had to go home to get ready for the evening out I could hardly walk, blaming my limp, tiredness and staggering gait to my concerned mother on mythical injuries from the game. As my parents were out till late the three of them came back after the meal and slept variously in my bed and on the spare bed, of course, only after another round of fucking and sucking.
Young Varun crossed my path of adoration again at the beginning of February. I happened to be taking a short cut through the lower-school changingrooms after break one morning when I heard a scuffle going on and a sudden loud yelp from a young throat. Being a good Prefect I investigated and saw two of the nastier FourthFormers holding Varun against the wire netting stretched below the coathangers. Varun was clad only in his gym shorts and vest.
Just as I approached I heard one of the oafs say "This is what Paki bastards get!" as he belted Varun straight in the bollocks. There was another, even louder yelp and the two didn't realise I was behind them until I said, "OK you two, drop him!" This happened immediately and Varun fell to the bench below and sat clutching his goolies and whimpering. The two FourthFormers looked as if they were going to try and bluster their way out of it and one was ready to scarper. I fixed them with as stern an eye as I could muster and rather shamefacedly their heads bowed . I let them stew for a few moments until Varun had recovered. When he looked a bit less tearful I told him to go on to his gym class. As he stood up rather awkwardly he looked up at me and I winked at him. He walked off head up and disappeared into the corridor. I turned to the two miscreants who still had their heads down. I told them sternly they were wrong on two counts, firstly, Sharma wasn't a Paki he was Indian and a British subject and, secondly, he wasn't a bastard as I knew his father and mother very well. I asked them did they know his older brother was in the Sixth Form with me and was in the First XV with me? They both shook their heads. I asked them should I tell the members of the First XV what they had said about the brother of one of their members? In fact, I said, if I told them what I had seen them doing to young Sharma I didn't think they would be able to indulge in their nightly and joint activities as they would end up without a functioning bollock between them. This was a shot in the dark which hit home as both went bright red and, as I stood and waited, I could see both tough guys were very close to tears.
Then I had a brainwave. Both were quite stocky and might be useful on the field. I asked them if they had Rugger that afternoon. One of them nodded. I told them to report to the Upper School changingroom immediately they came off the field in their Rugger kit carrying their clothes and towels. One murmured something. I told him very sharply to speak up. He said they couldn't as they were both in detention. I thought as much as I remembered one of the other Prefects pointing them out as being troublemakers. I found out that one of the Maths teachers, Dr Jackson, had put them in for misbehaviour already that morning. As Dr Jackson was my Maths tutor and I was on my way to see him just then for an extra tutorial I knew him very well. I told them unless they heard anything else to report as I had said and they would be very lucky I didn't report what I'd seen. I nodded my head and they disappeared like greased lightning. I told Dr Jackson the full story and he smiled and agreed and said he hoped I would be doing everyone a public service.
At the end of school that afternoon I came out of the Senior changingroom behind the rest of the First XV squad and found the two Fourth Formers standing outside in their rather muddied Rugger kit with their bundles. I had already told a few of the team two youngsters were going to join in without telling them the reason. I told the pair to go in and put their clothes next to mine on the pegs and then to follow me onto the pitch. As I was the permanent number fifteen I practised with all the backs, including Kish. Well, I made sure the two youngsters had to run, catch and pass the ball continuously to us much bigger and heftier hulks. Then we practised tackling. I passed the ball to one of them and Kish caught him with a tremendous tackle which brought him down in a choice piece of mud. The other one didn't escape in the next set of passes and he too was flattened, also by Kish. By the end of our threequarters of an hour practice I don't think the pair had had a chance to stop and breathe. They were now really covered in mud but as we all trooped off in the gloom they kept exchanging glances with each other and I could see they had really enjoyed themselves. A couple of the older and bigger forwards wanted to know why the squits were in the changing room. I said it was an experiment which satisfied them.
I made the pair strip off with the rest of us, which they did rather hesitantly, and then shepherded them into the showers where the rest of the squad were gathering. For Fourth Formers they weren't all that welldeveloped and I saw them looking furtively at some of the equipment on display on the older lads. I herded them under the same shower that Kish and I usually shared with Billy Hall. I could see they were on tenterhooks in case I said something to Kish. I let them stew until they had become mudfree and clean again. They were pinned in the middle of us three bigger lads as the water cascaded down. Kish turned it off.
I asked the taller one, "Noticed anything different between Kish and me?"
The boy blushed and shook his head. Billy asked me what I meant.
"Let him tell you," I said.
I must say the lad was brave. He turned to Kish and told him what they had done to his brother and what I had seen and they were very sorry. The other lad was nodding all the time and blushing even more because he had also begun to get a hardon. I gripped his hand as he put it down to cover it. Kish looked at me over the head of the lad who had apologised and I winked at him. Billy, who was now ViceCaptain of the First XV, had listened very carefully and chimed in that if he ever heard of them doing anything like that again he'd personally remove their bollocks but that if they wanted to train with the First Fifteen they were to behave and be outside the changingrooms next Thursday same time. Looks of great relief flooded over their faces and then both said, "Oh yes please" and we could see they really wanted to. By this time most of the rest of the squad were standing listening in and as the lads walked out of the shower they received quite a few halfheavy whacks on their backsides as gentle reminders. Kish walked behind them and put his arms round their shoulders.
"If you're OK then I am, but you'd better tell my brother as well you're sorry. He'll be waiting outside for me."
Kish told me the next day my stock has risen even further with young Varun. After hearing his side of the story and how I had intervened he'd inspected Varun's goolies and, given the amount of spunk he said Varun shot that night, no evident damage had been done. Dr Jackson remarked the next week that Smye and Mee seemed to have settled down to work and they joined in training enthusiastically for the rest of the term.