This is a story that involves sex between males. if such a story is offensive, or illegal for you to read where you live, then do not continue, go and surf elsewhere.
This is a work of fiction and in no way draws on the lives of any specific person or persons. If there is any similarity to any real persons or events it is entirely coincidental.
The work is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of their submission agreement but it may not be copied or archived on any other site without the written permission of the author.
My thanks to John and Brian who have read this through and made a number of corrections and suggestions. Any remaining errors, grammatical, spelling or historical or whatever are entirely my fault.
Inky White and I
Chapter One
I was angry! After a few moments I had cooled down, and was just annoyed. That fool Jeffrey had sent out the notification of a new story to his readers, having made it go out Cc rather than Bcc. It meant that my email address was available to all and sundry, now the whole world could know that I read gay erotic stories.
A moment of further thought reminded me that my own email address was cryptic, it revealed neither my name nor my home town. Then there were those who still might recognise it, but what were they doing reading such stories anyway?
I then started to look through the fifty or so addresses at the head of the email. They were the usual name revealing ones johnsmith@, and those revealing a home town, xyzlondon@. A few revealed something of sexual interests, cocklover@ and so on. Then one address made me look twice inky.white@.
Inky White is an unusual combination. Inky Black, yes! But it is usually Chalky White. I had known a guy who was usually called Inky White. We were at school together, in the same form. I am not sure, even now, why he was called Inky. Maybe because his forename was Inigo, presumably after the early seventeenth century architect Inigo Jones. After all, his father was an architect. Or was he called Inky as a result of some process of warped schoolboy humour.
A particular incident surfaced in my memory. I was just sixteen. I had discovered that my hand could give a lot more pleasure to my penis than just holding it while I had a pee. I had also enjoyed the pleasures of having my cock sucked, and of sucking another cock. From those pleasures I had gone on to discover the pleasures of fucking and being fucked. We somehow did not classify ourselves as top and bottoms, actives or passives in those days. Those with whom I had done these things were all, with one exception, boys in my own form, the exception was a boy in the parallel form.
Our class consisted of thirty boys. As always with a group of that number, we tended to hang around with a smaller group of four or five. Inky and I were not in the same group. It was not that we had fallen out, let alone had a fight. Our paths tended to cross only in class, or on the sports field, though that meant we had seen each other naked in the showers many times of the previous few years. I had taken no special notice of his equipment beyond knowing that his cock was thick and looked as though it would be long when erect, and also that he was uncut.
On the particular day that had come up in my memory was an incident when we happened to be alone together. I have forgotten exactly what was the time of day, and how we came to be talking. We were talking about sex. What more natural subject for discussion was there for two testosterone-filled adolescent boys? I had never talked to Inky on this subject before. I know that I was beginning to get a hard on. Inky half turned his back to me, and held open his trouser pocket. He asked me to put my hand in. I fully expected my hand to go into his pocket, from which I would be able to feel his cock, but to my surprise, I found my hand touching his hip. I slipped my hand further in and touched his cock. It was very hard. My hand fondled his cock and his balls, which felt large and hairy.
"That's some nice tools you've got in there, Inky." I pressed my groin up against his right buttock so he could feel that my cock was hard as well. I fondled his cock for about a minute, and then we heard someone coming down the stairs. I pulled out my hand, and he turned back towards me. Some third former passed, but the magic had been broken; neither of us wanted to resume.
"That was nice," said Inky.
"Yea, you've got a lovely one. I didn't know you liked that sort of thing."
He grinned. "I should say, any time. Meet up at the cycle sheds after school?"
"Okay."
Behind the cycle sheds was a secretive place for a clandestine smoke or grope. I know I had given and received a few blow jobs there over the previous eighteen months. When school was over for the day I got to the cycle sheds after Inky. He was standing there with his bicycle.
"What kept you? My home is empty for the next couple of hours, so let's go back there and carry on from where we were rudely interrupted."
Inky, I discovered, lived only a mile from the school; an easy and quick cycle ride. He led the way and I followed. We put our cycles round the back of his house. He pulled out a key from his pocket, and undid the door. We were immediately in the kitchen.
"I couldn't concentrate in that last geography lesson and I was hard the whole time, thinking of what we would be doing in a few minutes."
I laughed, for I had been much the same.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hall, and then led the way upstairs to his bedroom. We knew what we looked like naked because we had seen each other so often, along with the rest of the class, in the showers two or three times a week. There was none of that slow deliberate undressing of each other which is one of the thrills of a new contact. I think we broke the speed record for two boys getting their kit off that Tuesday afternoon.
We looked at each other in our nudity for a brief moment. Inky slightly taller than me, fair haired, with blue eyes. The smallest patch of fair hair, which hardly showed in the light, was beginning to appear on his chest between his nipples. His uncut cock was sticking out, hard and proud, his foreskin stretching back off his head, and already with a drop of pre-cum appearing. He would have seen me, slightly shorter than him. My hair was a dark brown, and my eyes always described on my passports as hazel, which I think means neither blue nor brown, but just nondescript. The hairs on my chest were slightly more abundant than his, and certainly more obvious. My circumcised cock was slightly shorter and less thick than Inky's but it was rampant, and like his, showing a dew drop of pre-cum. Both cocks were prepared for action.
The next three quarters of an hour were a frenzy of sexual action. Hands, lips and mouths got every where. We sucked and we fucked. I think we both came two or three times in that afternoon. It was as though it was all a totally new discovery and experience for us both, and we could not get enough of each other. I think both of us knew something really significant had happened in those few minutes. We enjoyed each other in a deeper way than either of us had enjoyed with any other. It was the beginning of a profound relationship.
We eventually lay back, and took breath. Inky's bedroom reeked of semen and adolescent sweat. There was a dazed, besotted grin on both of our faces. The next half hour was spent in each other's arms, talking.
"That was certainly not your first time, Inky!"
"Nor was it yours, Phil."
"I guess we've both got quite a bit of experience."
"Mine have only been with classmates."
"Same here, with one exception, someone in the parallel form."
We looked at each other, both wondering.
"Nobby Clarke?" I said.
"Yes, he always likes a nice fuck. Holdsworth?" volunteered Inky.
"Yes, but he only likes a blow job, and only once sucked me."
"I've got him to suck me off a couple of times."
"Alloway?" asked Inky.
"No! I'm surprised. He is always so correct, prim and proper."
"I've fucked him a few times, and he's done me. It is surprising how uninhibited he is when he gets aroused."
"Like us a few minutes ago?"
We both laughed.
"Not as wild as we were."
"Paddy Hirst?" I asked.
"Yes, he was my first. We were last ones in the showers after football, and it just happened. Done it with him after showers several times. Really likes mutual wanking. Who was your first?"
"Spud Edwards. We were sitting in the back row in Old Crinkly's class, and he put his hands on my crotch, and squeezed my cock. We went behind the cycle sheds the first time, but I have been back to his house two or three times. He has a lovely bum, and likes it up him."
"I know. Been there, done that and got the Tshirt."
We both laughed.
"Joe Kaye?" asked Inky.
"Yes, a few times, but he was very shy about it at first."
"I know. He's a very quiet lad.. I've also done things with Jock Irwin."
"Yes, and he's going to be a hairy guy, covered in black hair in a few years time."
"His arse hole's quite hairy already."
"Whose the guy in the other form?"
"Melrose."
"How come?"
"It was during the last holidays, we ran into each other in town, got talking, and went off into the woods together, and the rest is history."
"You lucky sod, he looks a sexy guy."
"And he is very sexy."
All too soon the hour approached for his parents' return. We dressed, his bed was remade, and we went downstairs.
"We must do that again. Is Thursday OK for you? Mum works at Dad's office doing accounts and so on all day Tuesdays and Thursdays."
"Can't wait."
We gave each other a quick hug and kiss, and I left.
XXX
It was amazing how the Email address inky.white had brought back so vividly those far off schoolboy memories. I sat wondering again if it was the same Inky White I had known at school nearly forty years before.
Several times that evening I thought about it all. I began to ask myself whether I should Email this Inky White to see if he was the guy with whom I had been to school.
I thought there was nothing to lose, and possibly something to gain, so it was the next evening when I sent off an Email to this inky.white@.
Hi there, I noticed your address on the notification message that Jeff sent out and allowed us to see each other's addresses! I wondered if you were at school in Maidstone Kent in the mid 1970s. If so you will remember me well, as we had some good times together. Phil G.
(The G stood for Goodman, for those of you who are eager to know such things.)
I was hoping for a quick reply to satisfy my curiosity, but I had to wait several days. This gave me time to think back further over those school days and my relationship with Inky.
That first afternoon was the beginning of a great friendship. With his mother out at work every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, our sexual relationship flourished. We now started knocking around together at school and out of school. We were good friends as well as sexual partners.
A further step in another direction happened about three weeks after our first getting together. It was another Tuesday afternoon. We were having a wonderful session, with a lot of long fucking, and we did not notice the time. It was panic stations, we got dressed, tidied the bedroom and remade the bed, and we had just got downstairs when we heard his parents' car draw up outside.
Inky did some quick thinking. "Into the dining room, and look as though we are doing homework." Fortunately I had taken into the house my bag with my books in, and left it in the hall. We piled into his dining room and in thirty second got several books out and were looking busy! His father came in first and was obviously doubly surprised. First, when he saw me. "You're not actually doing prep without being told are you, Inigo?"
"Yes, Dad, we're helping each other."
His mother came into the room and introductions were made. We did actually start doing homework together, and it helped at school. It also made me accepted and liked in the White home. We did the same at my home, though with my sisters and brother around we could not do what we would have liked to have done. But again our working together gave me Brownie Points at home.
There was one amusing result in a history lesson at school. We had been set homework the night before to read up about the Don Pacifico case. (See footnote) We had read it up and argued together whether Palmerston was right or wrong in what he did. In class we had to write an essay. When old Crinkle-Guts, the history master, handed the essays back, he said that if he had not seen the two of us seated well apart he would have accused us of cheating.
We were not an exclusive couple, in other words we did not just do things together. Past affairs were continued and new relationships were formed. We always told each other what extra-curricular activities we had been having.
"I met Holdstock in town on Saturday morning, and he suggested a cycle ride out into the country, where he knew a secluded spot which he wanted to show me. He said he was feeling randy. In the afternoon we met up and cycled about five miles out of town. We tramped through some fields, and in an overgrown corner we pushed our way through some undergrowth to where he had found a small open space. 'I want to be fucked, long and hard' he said. So I obliged, and wanked him so he shot his load just as I came. A good afternoon's work."
" I scored with Spud Edwards behind the bike sheds. He gave me a smashing blow job."
"I had a grope with French, I think he'll go further with some encouragement."
XXX
Footnote:- The Don Pacifico incident in 1854 was one of the more disgraceful episodes in British history. Don Pacific was of Jewish Portuguese descent but was born in Gibraltar. In the 18 50s he was Portuguese consul in Athens and his house was sacked by an anti-Semitic mob. He appealed to the Greek government for compensation – to no avail. The Portuguese government didn't help, so he appealed to Britain. He could claim British citizenship having been born in Gibraltar. The Foreign Secretary, Lord Palmerston, thought it was outrageous that a British citizen should be so treated, so he sent a flotilla of Royal Navy ships to the Piraeus, the port of Athens. After six weeks blockading the port the Greeks gave in and paid the compensation. Palmerston's high handed action caused outrage in this country, and not least in the House of Commons. He was forced to defend himself. He began to speak as the sun set and continued speaking through the summer night until the sun rose. He closed his speech using the old claim of a Roman citizen, claimed also by St Paul, Civis Romanus sum – I am a Roman citizen. Civis Britanicus sum. His closing words were:- "The Roman, in days of old, held himself free from indignity, when he could say Civis Romanus sum, so also a British subject, in whatever land he may be, shall feel confident that the watchful eye and the strong arm of England, will protect him against injustice and wrong.". He narrowly won the vote.