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The Beginning

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 09 Feb 2000 0 comments
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The Beginning by Abby (abbeyone@hotmail.com)I must have been about 13 when it seriously started.At school (boys only at that time) we sat in pairs at wooden desks. There were two lids that could be raised, giving room for storing our books. There was a single bench seat, and we sat side by side at our lessons.I was probably a slow starter, backward even, in matters of sex. I had noticed that hair was now growing around my cock, and I sometimes woke in the mornings with it stiff, and with my foreskin partly peeled back from the shining knob. I would squeeze it and pull the skin back over the head. It felt really good, but I was usually bursting for a pee, so off I'd go into the barhroom. After I'd emptied my bladder, my cock would shrink again, and the skin would slide right forward and cover the end. I thought it looked like the ones you see in pictures of Greek statues.I was short for my age, (the second shortest in the class) and some of the other lads were shooting up and leaving me behind. One of them (John C)seemed to be getting more agressive, and was always wrestling me down onto the ground. He never really hurt me, but he seemed to enjoy getting me down and showing me how strong he was, and that however much I struggled and fought back, he could always win.Despite that, we formed a friendship and he would look out for me with the others, and protect me from them. In our second year at the senior school, he suggested that we share a desk together and he grabbed one right at the back of class when we restarted after the summer holidays.Our English teacher was a female who seemed oldish to a 13 year old, but was probably in her early thirties. I remember she had a great figure and her thrusting breasts had the lads laughing and grabbing at each other's crotches after school, and making remarks about what they would like to do to her.I didn't really know what they were talking about, except that it was about the mysterious 'sex'. My Mum and Dad never talked about 'sex' and questions I asked were turned aside with a good deal of embarrassment. I had an older sister, 4 years older than me, and when I once asked her about 'boys and girls' her face turned a flaming scarlet. She said I was a dirty little devil and to go away or she would tell Mum. I knew that Mums and Dads 'did things' together because of ........but that's another story.One day, early in the morning, we were taking an English class, and Miss Lake was doing a lot of writing on the blackboard. John was fidgeting below the desk top and I was sitting forward, chin in hand, trying to concentrate on what our English teacher was telling us. Suddenly John was elbowing me in the ribs and when I half turned towards him, he put his finger to his lips. Then he eased back on the seat and pointed to his lap. His trousers were gaping wide, and out of them stood his prick, hard and proud in his other hand. He took his hand away and I saw it standing, with little twitches and throbs making it move before me. He moved his head towards my ear"I could bang this right up her. God I'd like to get her knickers down and do her".My heart had started to race and my mouth had turned dry. I looked back at Miss Lake and tried to concentrate on what she was saying. John's hand surreptitiously took hold of mine and pulled it off the desk top and down below the desk."Hold it for me" he whispered. I shook my head. "Hold it or I'll get you after school" he hissed. He pulled my hand into his crotch, and after some resistance, I let him win as always.He opened my fingers and wrapped it round his cock, then with his hand over mine, he started to rub it up and down. I could feel its steely hardness, the feel of his skin as it slid over the end, then he was making soft grunting noises and he was holding my hand over the end of it. I felt a hot something spurting against the palm of my hand and I thought "my god he's peed in my hand".He held my hand tightly against him and I could feel his cock, throbbing and throbbing. Then it was shrinking and softening in my hand. Finally he let go of me and I took my hand away. I looked down and saw that my hand was covered in a white creamy-like 'something'. So he hadn't peed on me after all. What was it? He had his handkerchief out and was wiping the stuff off his cock, then he passed it to me. I wiped my hand. Shortly after, the bell rang for end of class.We were taking different subjects, and we each went to different classrooms for the rest of the day. When I left school, John was waiting for me outside. We each went to school on our bikes, and although we were schoool friends and lived quite close to each other, we had never met and played together out of school."Come round this evening, my mother's going out. We can have a bit of fun." I felt quite pleased that this (to me) bigger and more sophisticated school friend should want me to visit his home. I agreed and we fixed a time.After tea I did my homework, then said I was going round to my friend's home. I was there for about 7 o'clock and John opened the door to me. He took me up to his room and closed the door. "My Dad's at his allotment and won't be home for an hour". The Town Council had made over a quite large piece of land to a Gardening Association. It was split into various sized 'allotments' and, John told me, his Dad had a large piece of land on which he had three greenhouses in which he grew tomatoes and various flowers. It was his hobby. He also had a large shed where he could rest, and shelter when there was bad weather.John lay back on his bed and I stood and watched as he started to unfasten his trousers. He pushed them down. His underpants went with them and I could again see his dick, surrounded with hair. Much more hair than mine. His fingers started to pull back on his foreskin and as it peeled back, I saw his swollen cock head. I couldn't take my eyes away from it as it lengthened and thickened. "Take your trousers off" he said. I managed to choke out a "No" in a voice I didn't recognise. "Do it. Take them off or I will."I knew I couldn't fight him. I could either do as I was told or I knew I would lose my friendship with him.Hesitantly, I unfastened my trousers and pulled them apart. His eyes were fixed on my crotch. "Pull them down. Do it. Get them right off"I pushed them down, pants with them, stepped out of them and stood semi-naked before him. "Come here. Come on the bed." I did as he said. "Now hold this" and once again he wrapped my fingers round his dick and started to pump himself, his hand over mine.Suddenly there was the slam of a door downstairs. "Christ, one of them's come back early. Quick, get dressed."He lifted his hips, pulled his trousers up and began to fasten himself up. I was scrambling around, trying to get into my underpants, then my trousers. My foot was tangled in the trousers but at last I had them round my hips and began to fasten them. I had clipped them at the waist, but not had time to fasten the fly when the door swung open. There stood John's Dad. His eyes flicked from John, now lying on his side, a book in his hand, and then to me. His eyes swept down my body and fastened on my crotch area. I was frozen, unable to move and saw his lips curl up at the edges, a small knowing smile on his face."Having fun, boys ?" he asked. John seemed quite calm, and said they were just talking. He looked at me. "How about you, what's your name ?"I stuttered "I'm Ronnie. I'm just going" and headed past him for the door. As I went downstairs, I was very concious of him behind me, and the fact that John hadn't followed."Come out this way" he said and led me through the kitchen. "Here, you can take these home for your Mum" and he gave me a bunch of chrysanthemums and put some tomatoes into a paper bag. I reached out for them, but he grinned at me and said "I think you'd better fasten your trousers before you go home."I looked down, and the front of my trousers was gaping wide open, my white pants showing through the gap. I flushed and started to try and stammer out an excuse, an explanation but he cut me off."It's OK Ronnie. Calm down. It's OK. Now be sure to tell your Mum that I will be pleased to give her more of these. But you will have to come to my allotment. Tomorrow is Saturday, so I won't be there 'till after tea, so come to see me about 6.30 and I will load you up. You will come won't you? I don't want to have to speak to your mother myself" and he looked down at my gaping trousers. He told me where to find his allotment, made me promise to come as he would go there specially, gave me more reassurances and I set off home.My mother was delighted with her gifts and when I said she could have more, she said that of course I must go and see him.That night I lay awake in bed, thinking of John on the bed, of me partly undressed, and of John's Dad. Finally I fell asleep and dreamed of John's prick in my hand, the warmth of his stuff, of it spurting onto me, and suddenly I was awake. My cock was hard and throbbing. There was warm wet stuff inside my pyjama trousers and when I put my hand inside the front flap, I felt the same smooth sticky stuff that John had spurted into my hand. I put my hand round my dick and felt it start to shrink, just like John's. I knew I fell asleep again with a smile on my face.The next day I slept late. When I got up it was to have a light lunch, then I had to run errands for my Mum. It was soon tea time and dark clouds were beginning to gather. Without thought, I climbed on my bike and set off.Soon the dark clouds started to spill out their load and there was no doubt I was going to get pretty wet. I was closer to the allotment than I was to home, so I picked up speed and got there as quickly as possible. John's Dad had given me good directions, and I found the allotment with no trouble. It had a tall wire fence at the front, with a gate, and I pushed it open. By this time it was really pouring down and Mr Clark was running down the path towards me. "Come on. Come on. Let's get out of this rain. You get into the shed, I'll close the gate".I pushed my bike down the path, leant it against the shed and went in the door. Inside there was a pot bellied stove, giving out lots of lovely heat. There was a large armchair, a table, a battered chest of drawers, a kerosene lamp and a camp-type cooker. There were shelves on all the walls. The floor was wooden and covered in old rugs. There was just one window, facing towards the gate and it had old curtains on each side.Mr Clark came dashing in, bringing my bike with him. He pulled the door closed and I heard the scrape of the key as he locked it. He turned towards me with his hair plastered to his head, his shirt transparent from the rain and clinging to him. I was soaked through to the skin and had started to shiver."Let's get out of these wet things and get dry" he said and started to unfasten his shirt. "Don't hang about, Ronnie, you'll get a chill. Get undressed. His shirt was off and he draped it over the armchair. He took a length of thick string with loops at each end from a shelf, then slipped one loop over a hook screwed onto a shelf, with the other loop hooked onto the same arrangement on another shelf. He hung his shirt over the string and started to unfasten his trousers. They were quickly off, as were his underpants and shoes. He stood nakedly in front of me, draping his clothes over the string. I was now shivering violently, still standing in my wet clothes, but with my eyes fixed on this enormous sign of manhood, dangling thickly between his legs. He finally took off his socks, hung them and turned fully towards me, now totally and completely naked."Look you've got to get these wet things off. You could catch pneumonia." He sat in the armchair and told me to come to him. His fingers rapidly unfastened my shirt, pulled it off, pulled off my shoes, unsnapped my trousers opened them wide, pulled them down, told me to step out of them. Then he took hold of the band of my shorts and slowly began to peel them down. He had been so quick with everything else, but he now revealed me inch by slow inch. I stood in front of him, unable to move as he exposed my young cock. His hand held my leg as he made me lift it. He took off my shorts, stood up and put my clothes on the string. He pulled the curtains closed and sat down in the chair. I was still standing where he had left me, my arms wrapped round my chest. Shivering.He held out his arms "Come here, I'll get you warm" he said, very softly. I took a pace and his hands now gripped my hips. He pulled me forward so that I was standing inches from his face as he leaned forward. I could feel the warmth of his breath low on my stomach. He seemed to be panting as though he had been running and his breath was stronger on me, then I felt it swirling aroung my cock. He pulled me closer and his lips touched my stomach, his hands lightly touching my nether cheeks. I could feel the heat from the stove warming my back, my buttocks, my legs, and in front of me the warmth of his breath, still swirling around my cock and balls. The shivering was subtly changing into a tremble, my lips were dry, my hands prickled with sweat. I was aware of my heart racing, beating in my ears. Then I felt my prick begin to stiffen. He saw my excitement and his hands slipped gently over my naked backside."Sit down here with me" he said. He turned me and pulled me down onto his leg. His strong arms lifted me and placed me squarely onto his lap. I could feel his body warmth against my skin. It felt good, so very good as he transferred his heat to me. One arm was about my shoulders, the other across my legs and holding my naked hip. He pulled me closely, tightly to him. Something was growing beneath my thigh. Something hot was lengthening, and he lifted his hips and pressed it against me. The hardness was throbbing now, and again he pulled on my hips. He moved me and I felt the thickness of him as it slipped between the cheeks of my bottom.He lay right back in the deep chair and pulled on my shoulders. My body fell back against his, and I was lying stretched out above him. His right hand was gently stroking my upper arm, then onto my chest, slipping lightly over my boys nipples. Back and forth. Back and forth. I was now breathing loudly, my mouth dry, my heart thumping in my chest. I was still shivering, or was it trembling, in his arms.His left hand started, oh so gently, oh so lightly, to drift over my upper legs. I lay still. The sensations were incredible. Every little hair on my thighs seemed to be standing erect, the skin tingling in a way I had never known. His hand. His hand. It wasn't touching my skin. It must be drifting over those erect hairs. Then his hand went to my knee and he pulled my legs apart. I couldn't help it. They just fell wide open. Between my cheeks I felt his hardness lie all along my cleft. Both of his hands left me, them I felt them grip the two cheeks and pull me wide apart. He pushed them closed again and I felt him trapped bewteen.One hand returned to caress my arm and chest. The other traced a line up my thigh. I wanted to giggle. Then I felt the unbelievable touch of his fingers on my cock. I had been so aware of his delicate and tantalising touch that I hadn't realised that I had grown so hard. Now his fingers were feeling my small length. He put his finger and thumb on each side of my foreskin and pulled. For the first time I knew the sensation of the blood, partly throttled by my foreskin, suddenly being released and surging into the knob end. He continued to rub me, up and down, up and slowly down. His other hand was now stroking my small young boy's scrotum. His thumb was rubbing gently on it as his fingers slipped further down between my legs.For a moment I thought he was going to invade my body, but he stroked the tight muscle, then reached down and I felt his hardness being pulled up. For a moment it poked against my hole and he pressed. The he pulled it up and it was standing up between my legs, as though I was endowed with a double virility.His left hand was rubbing gently on my cock, pulling the skin. His right hand was over my thigh, pulling on his own prick. The heel of his hand rested on my thigh, and his fingers dipped and soared below my little ball sac.I heard a thin voice beginning to wail. It was gasping out incoherent words. It was me. My legs were tingling and a feeling was building down in my toes. It rushed up my legs. The little sac between my legs felt as though it would burst. My prick was so tight it seemed as though it would split. Then my dick was leaping in his fingers and something warm and wet was hitting me high on the chest. Mr Clark was grunting. "Ah.. Ah....Ah..... Ahhhhhhhh Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yesssssss" I felt more stuff dropping onto my chest and stomach, and some of it dripped down and over my balls, between my legs. We both lay still.Slowly we both stopped panting and began to relax."Was that the first time you've done that?" asked Mr Clark. "Yes, sir. Yes Mr Clark.""Have you done that with John? Is that what you'd been doing when I caught you yesterday?""No Mr Clark. John wanted me to and he'd told me to get undressed. But you came home first.""Well would you like to do it again?" I nodded my head. "Say it, Ronnie, would you like to do it again?""Yes please Mr Clark, whenever you want."