This is the final episode, anything further will have a new title : )
Sorry for creating confusion, I'm toying with reworking the whole series and integrating the newer episodes, but that won't be for some time.
all the best
S2 Paul's Pants episode 5d, In conclusion
This is the concluding instalment of our Lake District adventure, I make no apologies for introducing a more serious issue, any further reference to that storyline will be continued as `Ewan's Story' just to avoid confusion. As ever any comments/insults/brickbats to the e-mail address. Feel free to reproduce the story, but all rights remain the property of the author.
After all that excitement, it was something of an anticlimax to return to the outdoor centre. As the other orienteers had not all returned, we were at a bit of a loose end for the rest of the day. As soon as we had walked back into camp, Paul had shot off to shower and then had arranged to play ping pong with his new mate Ewan.
I dumped my stuff back in my dormitory hut and went off in search of the warden. As before, he was in his office, papers spread all over the desk and a big mug of tea within reach; `Excuse me Sir,' I interrupted politely.
`Yes, what is it? Oh, it's you again, your pal's not gone in the mud again has he?'
`Oh no, Sir, although he did fall into a stream and a couple of lakes while we were out walking, but nothing that couldn't be coped with. What I wanted to know was if I could arrange to use the darkroom sometime, to develop some of my nature shots.'
Of course,' he said, you'll probably only be able to develop the films though, I doubt there's much if any printing paper left in there. Feel free to use the chemicals though. When do you want to use it?'
`Anytime really, now would be good, as I've some free time while we wait for the rest of the walkers get back.'
Now is fine, no-one else has expressed any interest,' he said with a hint of sadness, the key is hanging up in the key cabinet over there, when you're in there it's best you lock the door behind you, otherwise who knows what idiot might walk in on you and destroy the film. Just drop it back in here when you're finished with it.'
I wasn't being completely disingenuous when I mentioned the nature shots, as I did have a couple of rolls of utterly innocent pictures as well as the three Paul and I had kept back from our most recent adventure, and the mystery one from Ewan's camera. I decided that it was better to leave our earlier pornographic efforts for another day.
I hadn't actually bothered to inspect the darkroom, so I was very pleasantly surprised to find it clean, well laid out and well equipped. Even better, though, there were two developing tanks, each one able to hold three rolls of 35mm film, so I could do all six in one go, not only that, but there was a drying cabinet, so I didn't have to risk leaving the films hanging out to dry. It takes about forty minutes from unloading the canisters to drying the films. The process of developing a film is sufficiently technical to occupy the mind quite satisfactorily, so the minutes passed without my being aware of them. I had been able to explore the darkroom quite thoroughly once the films were safely in the developing tanks, and the warden had been wrong; there was a part used box of printing paper, nowhere near enough for a possible 200+ images, but the half dozen or so sheets I needed to make contact prints wouldn't be missed, and I knew at least one person who'd be very interested to see them.
Once the films had finished rinsing, I carefully hung them up in the drying cabinet; there's nothing much to see before they are dried, and while they're wet the emulsion is very fragile. Even so, as I hung them up, I could see that all of them were pretty evenly exposed, and that on the critical films, there was some evidence of good images; I could feel a familiar stirring in my groin as the ghostly negatives fluttered gently in the warm air.
Patience is an essential quality when you're a photographer, so I locked the door behind me and went off to get a well earned shower followed by a cup of tea while the dryer did its job. I decided not to tell Paul that I had developed the films until I had contact sheets to show him, he would know soon enough, and anyway, he'd be able to smell the chemicals on me.
As it happened, Paul was nowhere to be seen and once I'd showered and changed into some fresh clothes (shorts, black cotton pants and a t-shirt since you ask) I was able to drink my tea and eat a couple of biscuits without being interrupted. As soon as I thought it was reasonable, I headed back to the darkroom to sort out the films. In order to fit the negatives into the contact printing frame it was necessary to cut the films into strips of eight frames on the light box, this was my first chance to examine them closely. Even as negatives I was very pleased with the pictures I had taken of Paul; they were sharp and clear, and in all senses he was very well exposed, even the ones he had snatched of me had come out well. There's always a moment of excitement when you see the images you have created, they're very rarely the pictures you had in your head, but sometimes they are better; these were very stimulating, and I could feel my cock starting to rise to the occasion.
Once I had exposed the first contact sheet and put it through the developing bath and so forth; I turned my attention to the mystery film.
From the very first frame it was obvious that our Ewan was not just a bit of an exhibitionist, but he also loved the camera. I carefully chopped the film up and put it into the printing frame. When the contact sheet was developed and fixed, I spread it carefully on the sink top to take a look. The first few pictures were innocent enough; although he was shirtless and wearing tight, faded blue jeans. He stared directly into the lens, eyes wide and guileless, the very image of an innocent boy. After a couple of frames, it became obvious that he was rather more excited than his innocent expression might suggest. There was something strangely compelling about the way he gazed straight at the viewer, his hands gently framing the bulge in his crutch, and I could feel myself getting ever stiffer. A couple more images showed him turned away from the camera and looking back over his shoulder, the curves of his cute bottom enhanced by his having his hands in his pockets.
Next he had evidently undone the top button and unzipped his fly, as the faded denim was no longer taut and the white waistband of his pants was now on display. The next images in the sequence showed him bending forward allowing his jeans to descend further and running his hands over his round boy cheeks. It was at this moment it dawned on me that he couldn't have taken these pictures by himself; if he'd used the timer then the continuity of poses would have been more artificial, and in most of the pictures I could see both his hands and no evidence of a cable release.
The mystery was seriously beginning to turn me on, and I had to do something about it; as I pored over the images I dropped my shorts and absently began to rub my rock hard erection through the soft cotton of my pants. Unconsciously I was mirroring the positions that Ewan had taken when he posed for the pictures I was studying so intently. In the next sequence of pictures he had lost his jeans completely, and stood with his back to the camera, wearing a pair of classic white cotton y-fronts. These were tight enough to show the sweet curves of his bottom, and as he twisted round to face the viewer, it became very evident why. Even the loose fitting material of his pants was put under strain by his erection, his cock was stiff and hard, jutting straight out and very generously proportioned when you considered his youth and slim hips. It was possible to get tantalising glimpses of his hairless balls as the leg holes were pushed away from his slender thighs.
The next set of images began to unravel the mystery, as he was not alone; instead he was pictured sitting on the lap of a man, his legs spread, and the man's hand resting gently on his erection. Unfortunately the man was only visible from the chest down, and dressed in a very nondescript fashion, although he was wearing a wedding ring. Ewan's expression was not quite as innocent or ambiguous as before, in fact I would have said that he wasn't entirely happy with the situation. As the sequence progressed, the man gradually began to explore Ewan's body, slipping his hand into his pants and massaging his penis, and then flipping him over to explore his cotton clad butt, spreading his legs and pulling the fabric to one side so that his balls and the base of his cock were on display. He finally pulled the pants down, and ran his hand over Ewan's cheeks, reaching through his legs to masturbate him. He then lifted the boy up, and spread his legs wide in order to explore the hairless pucker of his anus. The final image was of him slipping his middle finger into Ewan's virginal anus, after that the film was all shredded and blackened as it had jammed in the camera.
I have to confess that I was very turned on, but at the same time rather troubled. Whenever Paul and I had done a photo session it had always been by mutual agreement, sometimes the initiative had come from him, and sometimes from me, and whatever it had led to had been as the result of our shared pursuit of pleasure. In the case of these pictures, it looked as though Ewan had been in some way coerced into taking things further than he was happy with, he'd certainly gone further than Paul or I had together already. On the other hand, of course, if he liked to have his picture taken as much as the earlier shots would seem to indicate, then I would always be happy to oblige him, he was very cute, and possessor of a cock that many an older man would be happy to show off. Somehow, too, it seemed to me to be better that he should learn about sexual play from a person close to his own age.
I decided not to show the pictures to Paul, he would be disgusted by the overt gayness of it, and this might lead him to consider that our play together could also be considered in some ways to be queer too. I resolved to have a little chat with Ewan, and see how he felt about it, if nothing else, I could at least help him get out of the clutches of the mysterious man, should that be what he wanted.
As luck would have it I bumped straight into Paul after I had returned the key to the Wardens office, he'd changed out of the scout uniform and was mooching about in his terrible saggy old tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. Hi how's it going?' I asked, got bored with the ping-pong?'
`Yeah, stupid game,' he said grumpily.
Ah, you lost then,' I said sagely, want to see some pics?'
I thought I could smell developer,' he said, how do they look?'
`I've just done some contact sheets for now, but they look pretty good, and the ones you took have come out really well.'
`Let's go back to my dorm and have a look,' he said eagerly.
`Ok,' I agreed. We walked across the open ground to the wooden hut Paul shared with eleven other boys, and after checking that we weren't followed, ducked inside. I dumped the bag with the contact prints on Paul's bed and we both knelt down on the floor next to it. I hadn't actually looked very closely at the images, as I had been rather pre-occupied with the other film. As we looked at the pictures, and I remembered the circumstances under which they were taken, I began to realise that we had created some quite powerful images too.
Paul had snatched the first contact sheet from me, and held it up in the light, his silence was evidence enough to me that he was totally absorbed, and a sideways glance revealed that the front of his tracky bottoms was under some pressure from an instant erection.
`Like them?' I asked slyly, and put my hand onto his bulging cock.
He wiggled his hips to get his cock into a better position under my hand before answering; `these are fantastic, the best we've ever done, what do you think?'
`Yeah, you're right; they're a real turn-on.' After a few moments companiable silence while Paul perused the pictures, and I gently stroked his dick through the fabric of his jogging pants, I eventually felt Paul's hand creep up my bare thigh and up the leg of my loose shorts. With a little effort he was able to pull my cock out of my pants and out through the leg hole, all the time concentrating on the images he held in his hand.
Aided by the near death of the elastic in Paul's jogging bottoms, I pulled them slowly down, a sideways glance revealing that he was wearing nylon y-fronts. I reached in through the fly-hole and tugging his cock out I was able to masturbate him. He wiggled his bottom to help his joggers fall free, and still kneeling, spread his legs slightly to give me better access. We stayed in that position, shoulder to shoulder, slowly masturbating each other and staring at the images for some time. I had a bit of a head start on Paul, as I'd been pretty turned on by the whole printing experience, and my cock was already hot and slippery in his hand, mind you, he was really turned on by the pictures, and I could feel the pre-cum starting to lube him up as I ran my fingers up and down his rigid shaft.
There were a couple of things we didn't consider when we embarked on this little sexual episode, firstly, that we would get so carried away that we would cease to be aware of our surroundings, and secondly, in our eagerness we had failed to latch the hut door properly. Suddenly, in that state of heightened consciousness that can precede a really good orgasm, I became aware that we were not alone in the room. I looked round, and saw Ewan standing silently just inside the door, watching our performance, a hand pressing against the front of his white nylon football shorts. Paul was completely unaware, and I was so close to coming, that I decided that we might as well carry on. I winked and smiled at Ewan, and slipped my own shorts down, Paul was still engrossed in the pictures and without looking, he pulled my pants to one side and picked up the rhythm on my cock again. I carefully pulled Paul's y-fronts right down, he spread his legs wider yet, and I was able now to give some hand action to his balls, still smooth and hairless despite it being a couple of days since they were shaved. Knowing that we had a witness gave my efforts a new intensity; this enjoyment of the whole voyeur/exhibitionist thing was a total surprise to me.
I wasn't going to last much longer, I could feel the pressure building up in my balls, and I could see from Paul's pink earlobes and sweaty brow that he was on the verge too. I looked round at Ewan; he was now openly working on his erection, a hand down the front of his football shorts and his impressive bulge better even in life than in pictures. I turned over onto my butt so I was facing Ewan, and sat back with my legs apart, Paul still wanking me. I watched the boy's face as I picked up the pace on Paul's cock, he took the hint, and we both began to slide down that slippery slope towards orgasm. I locked eyes with Ewan as I felt the pressure rising and then suddenly great gobbets of come squirted from my cock and all over me and Paul, a moment later and he too let go with a great groan, spraying sticky semen over my belly and up my arms. In the momentary confusion that often follows a great orgasm, I forgot all about the boy, and when I looked up again, Ewan had departed as silently as he had arrived.
I mopped us down with Paul's nylon y-fronts, we were going to have to stay sticky for the rest of the day, too much showering was as likely to draw attention as too little. I also decided not to mention our audience to him; that could be my little secret. I was encouraged though, Ewan had plainly been very turned on, and he hadn't run away screaming to a teacher. I was going to have to have a chat with the boy, see where he stood; there was no point in getting involved in our sex play if that wasn't his thing. Even in those more innocent times I was aware that there was an element of danger, we were both well under the age of consent, but I would inevitably have been labelled as the offender and he the innocent victim should we be discovered. Going by the photographic evidence, I would have begged to suggest that despite his relative youth he seemed to be as sexually aware as I was, and more experienced in certain areas.
At this moment my reverie was interrupted by the dinner bell summoning us to tea; `What shall I do with these?' I asked, waving the contact prints at Paul.
Stick em under my pillow, you can get them back after tea,' he replied.
I stuck them into his tattered wank mag, and shoved them under the pillow as he suggested and then we made our way to the dinner room for tea, improving sermons and yet another tambourine swinging session. Across the room I could see Ewan with his classmates, he studiously ignored my gaze, although I saw him glance over at Paul and blush prettily.
At the end of our meal, the senior teacher stood up and tapped on his water glass with a spoon to attract our attention; Right boys, this won't take long, I just wanted to remind you that tomorrow is our last full day here, so if there are any activities you have not yet tried, this will be your last chance.' I caught Paul's eye and stifled a giggle, I think we'd covered most of the bases so far. The following day we have to leave the centre, and it is important that we leave it as clean and tidy as we found it, so tomorrow I am going to inspect all the sleeping huts and woe betide anybody if I find anything out of place. So, take a look at the lists of activities available, see if there's anything you fancy and sign up for it, remember, first come, first served on some of them, and don't forget you have to sort your dormitories out between now and the morning.'
Once we had cleared our plates, and set the room up for the evening, I wandered over to the notice board with all the activities pinned up on it. Some of the keener boys had already signed up for a range of activities, as I looked though the list, Paul slobbed up to me; `what are you thinking of doing?' he asked.
`Dunno, really, just having a look.'
`I thought I might try the rock climbing,' he said.
`Oh yeah, I did that last week, it was good fun, don't think I want to do it again though.'
That'll do me,' Paul said, and signed his name on the sheet, I'm going to get a cup of tea, you coming?'
`Yeah, in a minute, when I've decided what I'm going to do tomorrow.' Paul wandered off, and I looked through the list again. I was already quite an experienced and agile climber, so I didn't see the point in doing such a heavily supervised and relatively simple activity again. Eventually I decided to try my hand at kayaking, and put my name in the little box.
Not a lot happened for the rest of that evening, we did a bit of religion, a bit of clearing up and after the younger boys were sent off to get ready for bed, we played a few board games before being sent off ourselves.
It was around 11.00 when I woke up, I could hear scratching outside the hut, and whilst the nocturnal activities of Cumbrian wildlife didn't bother me, the need to pee meant that I wasn't going to go back to sleep unless I did something about it. Suppressing a yawn, I threw back the bedclothes, and shuffled quietly out of the hut, taking great care not to disturb the sleeping occupants. It was cool and clear, there was a light on outside the toilet block, otherwise there was only the moon and the stars to light the way. Whatever had been scratching around outside the hut had long gone as I made my way to the hut, and pulling my limp cock out of my pyjama bottoms; had a piss. Once I had done, and washed my hands I made my way out, immediately I sensed that someone was waiting there; I could smell cigarette smoke.
Hi Paul,' I said, what got you up?'
He emerged from the shadows, fag butt glowing in his hand. He seemed very agitated, shifting from one foot to another; `Um, I don't know how to tell you this, but we have a problem.'
`From here it looks like you have a problem, mate. Do you want to have a piss and then tell me about it?'
`Nah, I'm serious, someone's nicked the pictures from under my pillow, if the word gets around they're going to think we are a couple of poofters.'
Ah, right, this could be a little embarrassing,' I replied, thinking hard, did they take the mag you'd hidden the pics in?'
`Just the pics, the mag's still there. '
Intriguing,' I said, Oh well, we're not going to find them now, I suggest you go back to bed, and sleep on it, I'll have a think, and we'll meet up in the morning.'
That sounds ok,' he said, evidently relieved that I wasn't panicking, see you in the morning.'
Truth was, although I had no idea who might have committed the crime, the fact that he had taken the pictures and not the girly mag indicated that he was more likely to be `one of us'. I had no doubt that all would become clear in the morning, and made my way back to my hut and my warm bed.
The next morning was bright and sunny, perfect weather for boating, when I saw Paul across the breakfast room, he shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands, as if to indicate that nothing had changed. I smiled and gave him a thumbs up to reassure him. At that moment the climbers were all summoned to the minibuses, as the climbing centre was a few miles away. I had time for a leisurely breakfast and then made my way down to the lake, once kitted out with life jacket and so forth; we were loaded into our kayaks, given an instructional talk and shown the area within which we could paddle. This was quite a lot of our end of the lake, there was a safety boat sitting well offshore, in case anybody got into difficulties. That, for the first session before lunch was to be that, I paddled gingerly out onto the lake, enjoying the feeling of the sun on my back and the water under me. I concentrated on developing a good rhythm, and was totally unaware of any of the other kayakers as I shot across the lake. I paddled out as far as the safety boat, nodded to the bored looking teenager who was entrusted with our safety, and then looked about me to see who was around. To my surprise no-one else had come as far out onto the water and instead they were all bumbling about near to the shore.
I decided to explore the little island that had seemed so promising when we first arrived at the lakes, but had so far delivered nothing. Not that I was complaining, during the holiday Paul and I had been given sexual opportunities that were beyond my wildest fantasies, and we had seized them gratefully. At this point in my philosophical meanderings I realised that my kayak was taking on water and I had a wet bum. Twisting round I saw that I hadn't fixed the splash cover properly and must have been gradually filling up for some time. I headed straight for the island and after beaching the kayak, I inexpertly crawled out. I emptied the water out of it, and looked around me. The island was small, with a sandy beach and a couple of trees giving protection from the wind. Although it was quite sunny, there was a bit of a breeze, and my bare legs and damp bottom were getting quite chilly. I should perhaps have pointed out that the approved costume for kayaking was a t-shirt worn under the life jacket and a pair of speedos or swimming shorts. I, of course, had opted for the speedos, although I was regretting it slightly now. Rather than get straight back into my damp canoe, I decided to have a little sunbathe on the beach, and dry off out of the wind.
I stretched out on the sun warmed sand; face pillowed on my life jacket and soon dozed off, dreaming pleasant boy dreams about my adventures with Paul. I was awakened from my sleep by the soft tickling sensation of sand being sprinkled over my bottom; I turned over with a start to see that someone looming over me, silhouetted against the sun. At first it wasn't clear who was dropping sand on me, but then as I looked from the ground up I saw sandals, skinny legs, pale blue speedos containing an impressive package and a faded red t-shirt under a life jacket. `I know that face,' I said, squinting up at him.
Sorry, to wake you,' Ewan said apologetically, but I saw your kayak on the sand, and wondered if you were all right.'
I'm fine,' I said, sitting up and suddenly rather aware that I had woken up with a bit of a stiffy, I just sprang a leak, and decided to stop off in the sun to dry my backside.'
Ewan giggled and sat down beside me, it was the first time I had actually been that close to him and I looked him over with approval. Up to now, I guess my attention had always been focussed on his genitals, and whilst I was very well aware of what he looked like, I had never examined him that closely. His hair was wavy and blonde, shoulder length and tucked behind his ears, and just beginning to bleach in the sun and his eyes were a rich hazel brown. His complexion was clear and pale, betraying his Scots or Irish ancestry, and contrasting vividly with his startlingly red lips. He watched me as I inspected him, a faint smile on his face, meeting my gaze without a hint of embarrassment. I think it was that direct and unself-conscious attitude that I found so attractive, that and the fact that he really was rather gorgeous.
We both started to speak at the same time, I laughed and said; `You go first.'
`I think I owe you an apology,' he said slowly.
`Why so?' I asked.
`Umm, you know when I walked in on you and Paul in the dormitory yesterday?'
`How could I forget?'
`Well, it really turned me on.'
Yes, I could tell that,' I agreed, beginning to get quite turned on myself at the memory, it did quite a bit for me too, I have to say.'
His face flushed, either because I'd paid him a compliment or because he was embarrassed, I'm not sure which. Well, you see,' he said carefully, I'm not sure how to put this.'
Any way you like,' I said cheerfully, there's no-one else listening to us.'
`I just feel bad about it, though.'
About what?' I urged him, better get to the point.'
`Ok then, here goes, please don't be angry with me. After you had both gone to tea, I went back into the hut and nicked the pictures that you had been looking at.'
`I thought it might have been you, what did you think of them?'
`They made me spunk all up the walls when I looked at them in the toilet. So you're not cross with me?'
I leaned over and gave him a hug, his skinny body was warm and sweet smelling; `No, of course not, why should I be? There's at least another 400 pics I can show you some time, if you fancy it.'
That sounds fabulous, I'll hold you to that.' he said, grinning naughtily, What I don't really understand, though, is that you and Paul seem to have so much going on together, but he's always banging on about poofters.'
I don't think he understands either,' I said dryly, I'll let you into our secret; Paul believes that he is completely straight, and what we are doing is a bit like having a wank. The photos started as a ploy to enable him to get off with girls, now that he has discovered that he enjoys dressing up, and undressing too, they have gone a bit further. The point is that it doesn't really matter what he thinks; we're both having loads of fun doing it.'
Ewan looked at me, his hazel eyes wide with amazement, `that's bonkers, how on earth did you two ever get it together?'
It's a long story,' I answered, and one I'd be delighted to tell you some other time, but for now, I too have a couple of confessions to make to you.'
`Oh yeah, what?' he sounded intrigued.
`First off, I hold you responsible for Paul's latest obsession.'
`What, ping-pong?' he looked confused.
`No, shaving his pubes off, you idiot.' I laughed.
`But I don't shave my pubes, they only just starting to grow about six months ago, and they're so pale that they don't really show.'
I'm sure they're lovely,' I said, no, what happened is that Paul caught sight of you having a crafty wank one morning, and thought that shaving his pubes off would make his cock look bigger, cos he said yours looked pretty massive without them.'
Ewan blushed again, `I didn't think he'd seen me, I forgot where I was for a moment, and I'd been having one of those dreams.'
`Well anyway, I saw it as a good sign; he's never expressed an interest in anybody's cock before, not even mine.'
There's nothing wrong with yours,' Ewan said stoutly, and watching you come was even more of a turn-on than looking at the pictures if I'm honest about it.'
Thank you,' I said, blushing in turn, that's nice to know, and you could probably tell that we were having a good time.'
`What was the other thing you wanted to confess?' he asked, changing the subject.
If I hadn't already been blushing, I would have blushed then, `do you remember that film you couldn't get out of your camera?'
`Yes,' he answered slowly.
`Well, I managed to get it out without destroying it, and I developed it when I did my other films.'
Ewan looked stricken, `God, you must think I'm some sort of a tart.'
I think you're fine,' I said to reassure him, as it looked as though he might cry, but I was a bit disturbed by some of the images. Not what you were doing especially, but more that you didn't seem very happy about it.'
There's a bit of a story,' he said, his voice wobbling slightly, do you promise you won't say anything to anyone.'
`Of course, your secrets are safe with me.'
`Thanks, I've never told anyone about this before.'
`Take your time,' I prompted gently.
`Well, to begin at the beginning, a couple of years ago my dad decided that I wasn't learning to read and spell as quickly as I should be. He sent me to an educational psychologist for tests, and he realised that I had a specific learning problem, not that I was dumb. So I was sent to have extra tuition with an old college friend of my dads; at first it was all fine, he's a really nice bloke and took a real interest in everything I was doing. He is a keen photographer, and encouraged me to take it up, we'd go for walks in the park and take pictures, and sometimes he would take pictures of me. I found that I really liked to be photographed; I could pretend to be something I'm not, and no-one would know any different.'
You certainly do look good on film,' I said firmly, tell me what happened next.'
`Right, a few months ago things began to be different; I had realised that my body was changing and when he asked me how I felt about it, I couldn't think of any reason not to, so I told him about my pubes starting to grow. When he asked me if I ever played with myself, again, it seemed perfectly reasonable and so I told him that I'd been wanking since I was little, but I had recently started to spunk for the first time. That was it for the moment, he changed the subject, and we went back to our lessons.'
Hmm, I don't like this very much,' I said, how do you think your father would react if you told him about this?'
`Mr Symonds, that's my tutor's name, told me that my dad wouldn't believe me.'
He probably wouldn't want to,' I agreed, go on.'
He started asking me to pose for him; just to finish a roll of film off', he'd say, and I was ok about it, after all, I enjoyed having my picture taken. So we would start each tuition session with a few pictures, perfectly innocent, just me sitting at a desk, or in an armchair. After a few weeks, this all seemed quite natural, and when he asked me to take my shirt off, that seemed ok too.'
`Was this when you took the pics I developed?'
`No, that was much later, once he'd got me used to posing shirtless, it wasn't long before he asked me to pose in shorts, then in swimming trunks or my pants. Soon, I was spending the whole tutorial sessions just wearing speedos, or some costume that he had found for me to wear. It got so that I would strip off down to my pants as soon as I got there, he would give me something to put on, and we'd take a few pics before doing the lessons.'
`But he wasn't touching you up or anything?' I have to admit that I was getting rather turned on by his story, even though I hated the way that the man had abused the trust of this young boy. I hoped that the bulge in my black speedos wasn't too obvious to Ewan.
`No, this wasn't at all sexual, or at least not for me, I guess it must have been different for him.'
`So what happened to change things?'
`One time when I went round to his house, I'd stripped off to my pants as usual, he wasn't in the room; he'd said something about having to make a phone call. As I waited, I looked around me, and noticed a pile of magazines carelessly dumped in the corner. When I looked a bit more closely I realised that they were girlie mags, and naturally I picked one up to look at it. These were quite a bit stronger than I'd ever seen before, with girls and men really getting it together, and I was very turned on by it.'
`What then?' I asked, suddenly dry mouthed.
`He must have planned it, because he left me alone with the mags for ages and I just couldn't keep myself from wanking. Suddenly I heard him coming back, and stuffed the mags back where they had been; there was nothing much I could do about the state of my cock though. When he entered the room he was carrying his camera, looked at me and smiled, not mentioning my erection. He asked me to pose in an armchair, and I did, I felt very relieved he'd said nothing, and really didn't feel embarrassed about my stiffy after a while.'
`Is that when you took the pics, then?' I asked again.
`No, things went on as before, except that now he encouraged me to get hard for the pictures, said it looked more grown-up that way, and after a while he got me to touch myself more and more, but still without taking my pants or whatever off. Finally, just before I was due to come away on this holiday, he said I should take some of the pictures with my camera, and he'd help me to pose. It started out alright; he suggested that I pose in my jeans and then gradually lose them; he would operate the camera for me to my directions. I really liked doing it; I was in control and felt good.'
`Yeah, the first frames have a real air of confidence about them, but then it all went wrong I guess.'
`I suppose so, he didn't really like the way I was doing things, and after a few shots he said he wanted to pose with me too, said it would look more adult. Those pictures were the first time he'd ever touched me, apart from patting me on the shoulder.'
`How did you feel about it?' I asked.
`At first it was ok, he was very gentle and it feels nice to have someone else touching your cock.'
You're not wrong,' I agreed, but it needs to be the right person.'
`It was only when he picked me up that I realised how strong he was, and that I wasn't really in control at all. At some point my camera had jammed, but it didn't make any difference to him, he'd forgotten about the pictures by then.'
`What happened?' I asked, not really wanting to hear.
`He made me undress him, and then I had to suck his cock while he was playing with me.'
`You poor thing, did he hurt you?'
`Not really, after I'd sucked him for a little bit he came in my mouth and it all calmed down. He made me promise not to tell anyone, and he'd make it worth my while. I got my clothes together and made a dash for it while he was in the toilet, thing is, I'm supposed to go back for a tutorial next week and I don't know what to do.'
Well one thing's for sure,' I said firmly, you're not going back to that bastard for any more so-called tutorials.'
He turned his suddenly tear-stained face towards me and my heart melted. How can't I?' he stammered, my dad would kill me.'
`He'd probably kill your Mr Symonds if he found out that he'd been fiddling with his son. Anyway, what about your mum, can't you talk to her?'
`I don't have one, she died when I was little, there's just me, my dad and my big brother away at University.'
Oh God, I'm sorry,' I blurted out, that's terrible, I had no idea.'
`How could you have? It's not something I talk about much.'
`Hmm, I'm sure there's a solution, there's probably enough information in the pictures to identify him, it was clever of you to remember to bring your camera away.'
`Yeah, but won't that expose me?'
Aha,' I said sagely, but we can blow up bits of the picture so that all you get is the background, or some details that would identify him, and not show any of you at all.'
Can you really,' he said, hope dawning on his tear streaked face, that would be fantastic.' Suddenly he flung his arms round me and hugged me, taken by surprise, I put my arms round him and he climbed into my lap for comfort, resting his head on my shoulder and sniffling slightly. We sat entwined for a few minutes, and I became very aware of the proximity of his sun-warmed body, the silky nylon of his Speedo-clad bottom pressing against my crotch. My cock, which had subsided during his story, began to stiffen up again, and I was very conscious that it was rubbing against his thigh.
I'm really sorry,' I said, but it isn't fully under my control.'
`What isn't?' he asked, lifting his head up.
`My dick, sometimes it just does its own thing, no matter how inappropriate.'
Oh, that,' he laughed, don't worry, mine does that all the time too, look:' He stood up, and indicated his crotch; his Speedos were indeed distended, as his generously proportioned cock had grown erect and was putting the pale blue nylon under pressure.
I leaned back on my hands and openly admired the bulge in his pants, my own erection blatantly on show, that's ever so nice,' I said, but you want to be a bit careful who you show that to, it could get you into a load of trouble.' To my considerable relief, and slight frustration, we were interrupted by the series of blasts on an air horn, that signalled the end of the morning's activities. Here, we'd better get a move on; we've half a lake to cross before we get our lunch.' I helped Ewan into his kayak, and as I fitted the splash cover on for him, I stroked him gently on the back and said; don't worry, we have the technology, all we need to do is send your Mr Symonds some blow-ups and say we'll pass the rest on to the police if he doesn't drop teaching you and back off, and he'll crumple like a wet tissue. Now, give me a hand getting into my canoe, and I'll race you back.'
Ewan steadied my kayak as I climbed in, helped me to fit my splash cover, and as we prepared to set off, he very quietly said; `Thanks.'
We raced splashily across the lake, the physical effort of paddling my canoe helping me to clear the thoughts tumbling through my mind. As I was both stronger and heavier than Ewan there was no way that he was going to beat me across the lake, but he was game, and gave it his best shot, and I have to confess I held back a little to make it feel more like a contest. We arrived, soaked and sweating, within a couple of boat lengths of each other; once we'd disembarked we went into the boathouse to put on dry clothes. Having pulled on some trousers over our speedos, we sorted our gear ready for the afternoon, and I waved Ewan to one side to have a quiet word with him, `When is your next tutorial session supposed to be?' I asked.
Next Wednesday,' he replied, Why?'
Bugger,' I said, that's the only night we have the darkroom until late, it's used by adult learning groups for the rest of the week. How easily can you get out of doing your tutorial session normally?'
`Actually, my dad's not too bad about it, he's a lecturer himself, and knows that everyone misses the odd session (as he says when he can't get up in time). I'm allowed to miss a few, but I have to have a good reason, or I'll be in trouble with him.'
`Ok, I've got it, tell him you've got really interested in photography while you've been away, and that someone; yours truly, has offered to help teach you to develop and print your holiday pictures.'
`Wow, that's a great idea, he'll love that, I think he thinks I don't want to learn about anything, if he wasn't so tied up in his work I think he'd take more of an interest.'
`That's great, I'll book the darkroom as soon as I get into school, and we'll sort out your Mr Symonds once and for all.'
Oh,' he said, his voice quavering again, there's just one problem.'
Only one?' I said cheerfully, give it to me and I'll see what I can do about it.'
`I haven't actually taken any pictures since I came up here, I arrived with that film jammed in the camera, and forgot to get any film once I was here; my dad really knows this area, that was why he was so keen for me to come away, so he'll spot any fakes.'
Ah,' I said, but you're in luck, I have two already developed rolls of hills, mountains, lakes and trees, although the only ones I have with humans in are probably a tad too pornographic for your dad to see. Maybe this afternoon you could take a few, and as the sucker punch, I'll take some pics of you having a great time in your canoe. That way, you'll have a picture to give to your dad of you looking happy, an excuse to come to the photography club, and he won't think that I'm some sort of weirdo.'
That's perfect,' Ewan said, his face breaking into a sunshine smile, let's do it, but in the mean time, let's eat; I'll race you back.'
Much relieved, I raced him up the path to the outdoor centre for our lunch.
The rest of our day was devoted to supervised activity; we each had to learn an Eskimo roll, and then we were taken by minibus to a busy river to experience the white water. As we were put through our paces in turn by the instructor I was able to take some pictures of Ewan while he was being instructed. The need to concentrate on the job in hand meant that he was oblivious to my presence, and I was quite pleased with what I thought I had taken. Afterwards, as we bucketed down narrow gulIeys and over rocky beds I was rather glad to have more thinking time to myself, Ewan had given me a lot to think about, not just about the bastard who'd molested him, but also about where that left me. There was no denying that I found him very attractive, but I also became aware for the first time that relationships have responsibilities and consequences. I'd been spoiled by my simple relations with Paul, there could be no consequences, because as far as he was concerned, there was no relationship. With Ewan, I was very aware that I could really hurt him if I handled things the wrong way, at the same time I was coming to realise that I was developing real feelings for him. This was not a situation that would be resolved overnight.
Paul didn't get back from his climbing until quite late that evening; they'd had mechanical trouble with their minibus and turned up after we'd all eaten. I was able to reassure him that the missing contact prints had been found, and skirted round the issue of where I had found them, simply saying that I'd found them while I was helping to tidy his hut. Fortunately Paul didn't question me further, the feeling of relief that he wasn't going to be a laughing stock around the school was enough for him.
He was lucky, because the rest of us had already had to finish cleaning the huts and tidying up the rest of the centre, which took far too long. Still, we had a shorter religious session, which was a bonus, and were all sent off to bed early as we had the epic drive ahead of us. Despite all that had happened, I slept like a baby that night and didn't wake until the sound of the bell. As with so many adventures, it all ended too soon, after a hasty breakfast we were herded onto our double decker buses and waving and shrieking from the windows, we made our stately way out of the village and on towards home.
As I watched the Cumbrian hills slowly disappear behind us I thought back over the past fortnight and how much fun we had managed to pack into it. Not to mention the intriguing and disturbing discovery of Ewan, I resolved that whatever else might happen, I was going to make sure that he wasn't hurt any more; in a very short space of time he had become very precious, a condition that was quite fresh to me and I wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.
After an entirely humdrum and tedious journey, we were deposited at the school to be collected (or in my case to walk home), Ewan's dad came to pick him up, and I was swiftly introduced, as was Paul, his dad seemed pleased that his son had made some friends on the holiday, so all in all, it was a satisfactory end to an amazing holiday.