This is the sixth part of a story about adolescent boys' sexual experimentation in a boarding school. To get the most from it the reader should read Parts 1-5 first.
The story so far concerns the first love of a sexually experienced 14 y.o. boy, Huw, for a beautiful and talented 13 y.o. new boy, Simon who, unknown to Huw, has had regular sex with his friend Jamie since they were in the junior school, and with Rabbit, a sexual predator, with whom he has a love-hate relationship, as well as being interfered with by a junior school master. The young and talented Assistant Housemaster, Mr Swan (The Duck) haunted by his infatuation with teenage boys, who has already seduced one boy, Johno, has also noticed Simon. Huw has had his first tantalising physical encounter with Simon on the bus coming home from a cricket match. This has aroused the jealousy of others, and Swan has asked a prefect, Lindsay, who also violated Johno as a youngster, to give Huw a friendly warning. Swan himself has become increasingly infatuated with Simon, but is trying to resist temptation. Huw is confused and worried.
Got it? Now read on - unless you are under age, or prohibited by the law of your country from reading such material. And don't take it too seriously, especially the unsafe sex, as it is fiction which is set some years back, and hopefully bears no relationship to actual persons.
If you would like to provide feedback, on this, the author's first attempt at fiction it would be welcome.
Simon's Seduction - Part 6
Huw woke late the morning after Lindsay had spoken to him about the danger of showing too obviously his affection for Simon.
He lay there confused and worried, listening to the other boys getting dressed, taking only a passing interest in the cocks, most of which he knew more or less intimately. He felt like an animal trapped in the glare of a car's headlights: startled by what had been said to him and not knowing which way to move. His hand went down to his morning erection, but even that did not yield him any comfort.
He leapt out of bed and headed for the shower, but not before it seemed that every boy in the dormitory was shouting, "Huwy's got a hard-on".
"Been thinking of Simon?" he heard Ross say as he passed the duty prefect making his bed.
"Better than having your cock in my face," Huw retorted, referring back to the previous Saturday night when Ross had woken him to come all over his face.
"Let's do it again, tonight" Ross leered as Huw flew out the door to the showers.
The first thing Huw saw when he arrived at breakfast was Simon, sitting with the other boys from the junior dormitory, looking more beautiful than ever, Huw thought. He remembered his hand feeling the tip of Simon's penis as it travelled up the leg of his shorts on the bus. Huw barely acknowledged his greeting however. Warned that his relationship was being closely followed by at least two prefects, Huw knew that he had to be careful in his contacts, however innocent, with Simon. He had to find a way to warn him too without revealing what Lindsay had said the night before.
At cricket the next day he contrived to stand beside Simon during fielding practice.
"Listen Si," he said, "I hear that some of the chaps are jealous of you being in the First XI, and are saying that you have been sucking up to me. It might be a good idea if we, sort of, didn't seem too friendly for a while."
As soon as he had said it Huw thought that what had intended to be subtle and unthreatening, sounded crass and improbable, especially to someone as intelligent as Simon.
Simon gave his hero a troubled look.
"That's stupid Huw," he said, "It was Mr Swan who got me to practice with the Firsts."
"I know," Huw replied, "but all the same, you need to stay away from me for a bit."
"Is it something to do with what happened in the bus?" Simon asked.
"No, no," Huw tried to assure him, "it's just that I don't want those prefects to make life hard for you 'cos they're jealous," he added, hinting at the real reason for his concern.
"OK," said Simon as cheerfully as he could, "but we can still be friends. You've helped me a lot Huwy."
That night Simon pondered what Huw had said, and felt more than a vague sense of uneasiness; he was troubled. He wondered if Rabbit had anything to do with it. Had he said something to Huw about what they did together? Was Huw disgusted by what he had heard? Did Huw want nothing further to do with him because Rabbit had revealed that he had fucked him? Why had he ever got involved with Rabbit he wondered, but in his heart he knew.
Rabbit's bed was empty. He was at the other end of the dormitory, doing his nightly rounds. From the sighs and giggles filtering down it seemed he was having more than his usual success. Suddenly Rabbit appeared beside Simon's bed.
"I scored 12 tonight," he boasted. "I even got Chikko. He came a canful. Not bad for someone who hadn't done it till four weeks ago. First time I managed to get my hand on his dick. It's thick too, "he added, referring to one of the shyest of the new boys who had arrived from the country totally innocent.
Well developed for his 13 years, but not particularly good-looking, it had only taken Chikko, as he was known, a week in the boarding school to be introduced to the joys of masturbation. Once started he was unstoppable. The boys in the bed next to him saw it bouncing away every night and morning, and Chikko often disappeared into the toilets at lunchtime for some quick relief. Still shy, he had resisted efforts to integrate him into the vibrant sex life of the dormitory, preferring the solitary comfort of his hand. So Rabbit had made the breakthrough, as he had with so many others, in breaking down their shyness at, what to him, was the perfectly normal practice of having sex with other boys.
Simon was intrigued by Rabbit's activities. Within a few weeks he had most of the boys in the dormitory openly hopping in and out of each other's beds, with none of the furtiveness that normally characterised dormitory activity. He felt Rabbit's hand snake down through the sheets to where Simon's nightly erection protruded from his pyjamas. Rabbit slowly began to stroke it. Simon's hand involuntarily slid inside the fly of Rabbits pyjamas to feel his long thin cock.
"Take it Simp," Rabbit said, and thrust his cock towards Simon's mouth.
"Have you told anyone about us? What we do?" Simon asked, before his mouth was filled with Rabbit's steely cock.
"Course not, Simp, it's our dirty little secret," Rabbit replied as he slid his cock in and out of Simon's soft, wet mouth. "Why?"
"Just wondered, you said you never would; but, I dunno, some of the seniors seem to have been acting a bit funny towards me recently."
"Probably jealous of you and Huw"
"What do you mean, Rabbit?"
"Well it has not gone unnoticed that you two have been getting very friendly. Are you having it off with him?
"Don't be stupid, Rabbit, we're just good friends and he has helped me with my cricket," Simon retorted through a mouthful of cock.
"Well, you'd better watch out, from what I hear. You'll be making The Duck, and a few others, jealous."
Rabbit felt Simon's body, not to mention his cock, stiffen at the mention of The Duck, and wondered if there was something more going on than even he had imagined.
"Has The Duck come on to you," he asked.
"No, he hasn't; I sat next to him on the way to Joey's, that's all," Simon said bluntly, and sought to end the conversation by taking Rabbit's cock deep into his throat.
Rabbit thrust it in as far as it would go, and began to stroke Simon's boyish five inches even faster. He felt Simon's soft mouth envelop it, his tongue moving around the head as he withdrew, ready to plunge back again. Simon slid it out of his mouth and ran his tongue down the underside to Rabbit's balls which he licked one by one, before taking the head of his penis once more into his mouth. God, this boy is good, thought Rabbit as tingles ran up and down his spine.
"Where did you learn that trick, Simp," he asked.
Simon ignored him.
Rabbit leaned forward to get a better grip on Simon's straining cock. He slid the foreskin back and forth over the head, and then ran his hand down the length of the shaft, tickling Simon's smooth balls as he went. He ran his hand between Simon's thighs, and up between the cheeks of his arse, feeling for the tight little round hole that he had plundered for the first time, his lust to fill it once more only assuaged by what Simon's mouth was doing to his cock. He looked down at that angelic face speared by his raging penis and idly wondered what The Duck and a few of the seniors would give to be in his place.
As his grip tightened on Simon's penis at the thought he felt it strain under his grip, the vein on the underside began to pulsate and Simon's warm spunk flowed over his hand. He coated Simon's slowly softening penis with it and moved his slippery finger down to Simon's anus, plunging it to its full length into his rectum, as wave after wave of pleasure flowed though his scrawny body. Spurt after spurt of spunk, generated by the psychological force of bringing twelve boys to orgasm that night, filled Simon's mouth and began to flow down his chin, dripping on to Rabbit's foot. Rabbit leaned over, forced his lips against Simon's and as his mouth opened to admit Rabbit's predatory tongue he tasted the sweet aroma of his own spunk.
"Jeez, you’re the best, Simp," he said, gave him a parting kiss and slid into his own bed, licking Simon's spunk off his hand as he did, to savour the final moments of a great night.
He realised that, in the boy he had once despised for his good looks and talent, he had unbuttoned a ferocious sexuality that matched his own. >From the moment he had first penetrated Simon they had been drawn together in a sensual conspiracy that knew few bounds when they were together. Rabbit's interest in the conquest had slowly given way to a feeling that, despite their utterly different personalities, the demons buried within them had found a certain congruence, expressed in their mutual lust. For Simon, Rabbit was the only person who had recognised that demon, and forced Simon to give it unbridled licence, despite his best efforts to keep it under control.
Simon spat the rest of Rabbit's spunk into the handkerchief that he kept in his pyjama top pocket, and cleaned up his own with it. It was already stiff with the deposits of his previous nights' solo efforts, and he knew it would be time to surreptitiously wash it out in cold water the next day. He lay there for a few more minutes before drifting off, pondering Rabbit's words about him and Huw, and Mr Swan. He felt he was being drawn into something which he only vaguely understood, and over which he felt he had no control. Where would it all end he wondered as the aroma of Rabbit's semen drifted up from the damp handkerchief in his pyjama pocket. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Simon was unusually distracted in his classes the next day. He was dwelling on what Huw, and then Rabbit, had said about the jealousy that his association with Huw was fomenting among the seniors and even some of the masters. Simon knew that he was attractive to older boys and men, but had buttoned down his sexuality to discourage their attention except among the few to whom he was attracted, including Huw. He did not want to end up in the middle of a tug-of-war for his affection.
As he sat in English his thoughts were consumed by what he should do to protect himself, and Huw of whom he had become very fond. He was dragged back to reality by a question from Mr Prescott, about the text they were studying.
"Why do you think that Hamlet seems to reject Ophelia," he had asked.
Simon was caught off-balance.
"Because he'd fallen for Juliet." Simon blurted out the first thing that came into his head.
"Very smart, Simon." Mr Prescott, one of the minority of heterosexual masters in the school impervious to Simon's looks and charm, said sourly, glowering over his glasses.
"Just because you were dux of the Junior School does not give you the right to be a little smart-arse in my class," he said growing angrier. "Get out, and stay out, till you've learnt to pay attention."
"Go on, get out," he added with a threatening gesture.
Simon rose, his heart racing, and moved towards the door in the corridor, tears welling up in his eyes. It was the first time that he had ever been sent out of a class and it was a blow to his ego, and his eagerness to please his elders. As he reached the door his handsome face crumpled. Tears splashed onto the linoleum floor of the corridor that led from the masters' common room, at one end, to the science block, at the other.
Simon stood there sobbing, fazed by the anger that Mr Prescott had shown towards him.
At that moment, Mr Swan left the masters' common room and headed for the science block to prepare for his next lesson. He looked up to see Simon standing outside the English classroom in tears.
"What's the matter Simon," he asked, putting his arm around Simon's shoulder to comfort him.
Simon was too upset to reply. He flung his arms around Swan and hugged him to his heaving chest.
Swan felt the small warm body pressed against his lower half, and smelled the faint odour of Simon's hair. He felt his loins stir as Simon's torso heaved against him. He was overwhelmed with genuine love and concern for the boy, his best instincts as a schoolmaster aroused. But so was his cock and he felt it harden as Simon continued to move against his groin. In a moment it was fully erect as he folded his arms around Simon to comfort him further.
Swan realised that he was standing in the main school corridor, almost opposite the headmaster's office, with a bursting erection hugging this beautiful sobbing boy in full view of anyone who happened to pass. As Simon buried his head more closely into Swan's chest he sub-consciously felt Mr Swan's hard penis pressed against his belly. Suddenly Swan felt his self-control give way. He pressed his body back against the sobbing boy and his cock erupted inside his trousers with an orgasm that shook his whole body. Simon looked up at him, only half-conscious of what had happened, but certainly not oblivious to the emotion with which Mr Swan was now shaking.
"I...I…I was thrown out by Mr Prescott," he stammered, staring up at Mr Swans flushed face, and easing back from their close encounter as he felt Mr Swans cock softening against him. He was more confused than ever.
Swan stepped back and, recovering some poise in a situation he realised was loaded with danger, said ambiguously: "I'm sorry Simon. I mean, I'm sorry that you were told to get out. What happened?"
Simon told his story between sobs that he was now able to control.
"I think you should go back at the end of the lesson and apologise to Mr Prescott. Come and see me after school if you like and we will see what we can sort out," Swan said, quickly regaining control.
As he walked slightly unsteadily to the science block, Swan realised that he had come perilously close to compromising himself in full view of the school. He felt the dampness in his boxers, and noticed for the first time the stain growing on the front of his trousers.
Swan wondered how much Simon had noticed of what had happened. Perhaps he was too upset, he reassured himself. No, he could not have helped noticing: his rock -like cock had been pressed hard against Simon, and his whole body had shaken with the force of his orgasm. What would he say to Simon when he came to see him? His mind was racing, trying to devise a strategy to extract him from the dangerous waters into which his love for the boy had led him, almost by accident.
But first he had to clean up. Later he thought through the situation, bringing to bear the incisive brain with which he was blessed, and his understanding of boyhood sexuality, based on his own experience at the same school.
Swan reminded himself that Simon was a supremely intelligent boy: he had read the reports from junior school, which showed he had scored 145 on the IQ test. The way to his heart, he reasoned, was through his mind. Simon could be brought to understand their predicament through a logical explanation. Nor would he have to spell it all out: while still emotionally immature, Simon's sexuality had clearly developed to the point where, with his quick intelligence, and undoubted experience, he would pick up on the nuances of what Swan would say, in a way which sought to save them both embarrassment.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Simon had felt the warmth of Mr Swan's body and the strength of his athletic arms as he pressed against him, weeping uncontrollably. He had instinctively flung his arms around him for comfort, just as he still did with his father, when his mother was having one of her bad days.
Simon adored his father, a senior judge in the appeal court, who had a reputation for humanity and concern for the under-dog. His mother was another thing, a barrister with a brilliant mind but manic mood swings; she would have made his life a total misery were it not for his father. As Simon clung to him during those desperate moments when his mother rampaged thought the house, he knew that his Dad needed his support as much as he needed his fathers'. In those moments Simon felt deeply for the vulnerability of all human beings, including his own,. He had read The Catcher in the Rye when he was 10, and determined then that he would catch the vulnerable men who came into his life, and save them from women who tormented them.
As Simon had clung desperately to his mentor, he had felt the movement in Mr Swan's groin as he pressed closer, but had been too upset to give it a thought. As he slowly gained control, in those comforting arms, with his head buried in Mr Swan's chest, Simon had become conscious that Mr Swan's erect penis was pressing against his own belly. Then, suddenly, he had become aware of Mr Swan's body convulsing, and then felt his hard penis pulsating through the thickness of their clothes.
Simon moved back slightly, embarrassed at what had happened, and the thought that he may have precipitated it. He looked up to Mr Swan's face which showed a mixture of agony and ecstasy, then cast his eyes downward to see the bulge in Mr Swan's trousers and signs of a damp stain appearing. Despite his own agony Simon felt his penis stir too at the sight and the memory of what had just happened.
Simon heard Mr Swan say "sorry", as he was about to apologise to him for putting him in such an embarrassing situation. Mr Swan had gone on to say he was sorry at what had happened to Simon, and through a thicket of tangled emotions Simon heard him suggest he come and see him in his study that night. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Huw was standing under the shower after cricket practice, soaping himself well, when he was joined by Johno. He had achieved the half hard-on that he tried to effect whenever he was naked in public to cover the shame of the small size of his equipment when down. It got harder as he soaped around it and stood at an angle from his youthful body.
"Hi, Huwy" said Johno, "you were batting really well today. Looks like you have some more sport in mind," he added, looking down at Huw's burgeoning cock.
"Thanks, Johno," Huw replied, turning his attention to other parts of his body, "you were making your balls swing too," referring only obliquely to Johno's bowling efforts.
Huw and Johno had always been good friends. They had occupied neighbouring beds in the junior dormitory and their beds were side by side again in the sub-seniors dorm. They shared a passion for cricket, Johno the bowler and Huw the batsman, so there was no jealousies about performance but a friendly rivalry on the field. Johno was six months older than Huw, and, possibly for this reason, there was never sexual contact between them. Huw was aware of visits to John's bed at night, and Johno could hardly have been unaware of Huw's reputation. But Huw had responded to the attention that rather older boys had paid to him and was now interested in the juniors. Johno had never made overtures, and had just not fitted in to his pattern of sexual contacts.
Since hearing from Lindsay how he had fucked Johno when he was a junior, Huw had taken a renewed interest in the possibilities of sex with him. He let his gaze fall on Johno's groin. He had a compact athletic body with a well proportioned, circumcised cock, substantial balls, all surrounded by a light fuzz, the colour of his fair hair. He really was good-looking Huw thought, noticing the intensity of his blue eyes. No wonder the seniors had the hots for him when he was a junior. Huw determined to see if he could arouse his interest.
He soaped his bum, running his hand up the crack, ostentatiously fingering his hole. With his other hand he returned his attention to his cock running his well soaped hands up and down till it stood out at about 45 degrees and a good six inches in length. He noticed Johno staring at it, and running his own hands around his limp cock. Soon it too was showing signs of engorging with blood. The two boys' eyes met and they smiled at each other.
"Looks like you want the meat of your bat to swat my balls." Johno whispered his crass double entendre across the gap between the showers.
Huw reddened a little with embarrassment that his play had been so obvious.
"Need all the practice I can get," Huw said feebly, trying to maintain the cricketing word-play.
"I guess there will be plenty of chances for that," Johno replied, and the sexual tension in the air diminished as they were joined by other boys in the shower and their cocks returned to more normal dimensions. But in Huw's mind at least the scene had been set for getting to know Johno more intimately.
That night Huw studied for an extra half-hour so that he could go to bed after lights-out. He went to the bathroom first, and wanked his cock into a strong erection after he had finished pissing. With it pressed hard against his belly, he made his way quietly to the pegs, on the wall between their two beds, on which they hung their clothes. Huw rapidly took off his shoes, socks, shirt, singlet, and trousers, and stood there with his boxers tenting out, only inches from where Johno's head lay on the pillow.
He strained to see in the darkness whether Johno's eyes were open, but could not tell. He reached inside his underpants and felt his swollen seven inches, before dropping them to the floor to reveal all. He turned his body languidly towards Johno's pillow and felt a hand envelop its length. Huw stood very still as the hand slid up and down its length and pulled him towards the bed. He inched forward and slid his own hand under the bed covers, down towards Johno's pyjama pants. He met no resistance, the pyjama bottoms being at the end of the bed, leaving exposed the lower half of Johno's body, with his six inch cock as stiff as a pencil.
Huw fastened his grip around it, excited by the thought of at last knowing this elusive friend who had been so close yet so distant. Johno pulled Huw closer in the darkened dormitory, and Huw felt his penis engulfed by the warmth of Johno's mouth. He watched in the gloom as that handsome faced moved back and forth against his lower belly, taking in the greater part of his large erection. With his left hand he slowly masturbated Johno's cock, and ran his right around his chest and nipples. He felt Johno's arm curve around his body and nimble fingers search for his crack. Finding its target Johno's forefinger pressed inside him. Huw felt a charge go through his body as Johno worked his cock and simultaneously plugged his arse.
Huw ran his fingers down over Johno's balls to the inside of his thighs, working his hand between them towards his bum-hole. He felt Johno resile, and push his hand aside. This was not the time to take the exploration further, but he wondered what Johno felt about bum-fucking after his experience with Lindsay. Huw's own experience with Ross had not been great, and he while turned on by stimulus of his anus, Huw felt ambivalent about being fucked.
There was no time for introspection, however, as both boys' bodies began to shake in anticipation of their coming orgasm. Huw was first, delivering half a dozen strong spurts into Johno's mouth. Johno followed, spraying spunk all over Huw's hand. Johno spat Huw's leavings into his handkerchief and cleaned himself up with it too, then handing it to Huw to wipe his cock.
"Thanks, Johno, you got me really worked up," Huw whispered. "I've wanted to do that with you for a long time."
"Me too," Johno whispered back, "must do it more often, now that we're acquainted. You can come to my bed any time."
"Huw, remind me that I've got something to tell you in the morning about your friend Simon," Johno added mysteriously.
That night he had witnessed something that he had to share with a friend. He knew that he could trust Huw, if only because of his obvious love for Simon. That was why Johno had, after reading Huw's intentions under the shower, lain waiting for him, to add a sexual dimension to their friendship.
As Huw pulled his boxers back on and slipped into bed he knew he wanted to take the new dimension to his friendship with Johno even further. But he was intrigued by what Johno had said about Simon. Did everyone in the school know he was in love with the boy? What had Johno learnt that he wanted to pass on? Was there more danger awaiting him, and Simon? ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
That same evening Simon knocked tentatively on Mr Swan's study door. He did not know what to expect, or what he would say. He had apologised to Mr Prescott, who appeared to have calmed down, and he had accepted it with good grace. He would tell Mr Swan this, but he remained in a state of confusion and emotional turmoil over what had happened in the corridor.
"Come in," he heard through the thickness of the door, and slowly turned the handle and entered.
It was not a large room, about the size of a bedroom, with desk, bookshelves, two filing cabinets, a sofa and two chairs. Around the wall were photographs of Mr Swan's sporting achievements. Simon knew the room well now, as he had often been invited in to talk about cricket, or his science projects. He had silently hero-worshipped the young man behind the desk for his talent, loved him for the friendship he had shown him and the way he had promoted Simon's cricketing career.
"Sit down, Simon," he suggested, and Simon sat on the sofa towards which Mr Swan waved his hand.
"Did you make up with Mr Prescott."
"Yes, I apologised, Sir" Simon replied.
"I had a word with him afterwards. Told him how I had found you very upset, and I think he was sorry he had been so harsh with you,"
Swan said looking steadily at Simon's beautiful face, the dark curly hair and red cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Sir, that I was blubbing so much, but it was the first time I had been put out of class and he seemed so angry," Simon said nervously. "I shouldn't have flung my arms around you when you tried to comfort me, Sir."
"That's alright, Simon. I got a bit carried away myself. Felt so sorry for you. I hope I didn't embarrass you. Nearly cried myself, as a matter of fact," he said in his clipped manner of speaking.
Swan came around from behind his desk and sat next to Simon on the sofa. He gazed into Simon's green eyes; how inviting they looked, he thought, as Simon held eye contact.
"I'm very fond of you, Simon," Swan said. "I guess you know that. You are a very talented boy, and I want to help you realise your potential, both as a cricketer, and in maths and science. You have a great future ahead of you. Just watch that you don't get peoples' backs up by being over-confident."
Simon felt chastened.
"No, Sir," he mumbled.
"You are on the threshold of manhood, and the way you develop over the next few years will set the pattern for your life," Swan went on, still looking intently at Simon.
"I understand that, Sir," Simon replied, casting his eyes downwards.
"There's something else, Simon: something else happened in the corridor today, which I need to explain. I'm afraid I became rather emotional when you hugged me. Perhaps you noticed."
Simon was not sure how to respond. He looked up at Mr Swan and saw in his eyes a deeply loving look. He averted his own, then looked back at Mr Swan, and smiled.
"I think I understand what happened, Sir, and it doesn't matter. I was so grateful to you for rescuing me, Sir," he said.
"Simon you are old enough to understand that as you become a man, changes take place in your body, and certain feelings sometimes take possession of one. Sometimes they interact in ways that are beyond one's control. That happened to me today."
"Simon, you are an attractive boy, and it is important that you fully understand these things for your own good."
"Yes, Sir," Simon said, looking away.
"I am sure you already know some of those feelings, longing for relief from the physical tension that builds up in your body as it matures. But there is something else that you may not have experienced yet: that is love for another human being, linked to those other feelings that you doubtless already experience. It is quite different from the love that you feel for your parents, and they towards you: it involves a strong desire to be with the object of your love. I mean, to do with them what a boy does alone, in the privacy of his own bed."
Simon blushed at what he took to be a reference to his own masturbatory habits.
"Simon, I don't want to embarrass you," Mr Swan went on " but, remember, I was a boy here at your age and I understand what adolescence is all about: the feelings that you have and the irrepressible urges that sometimes take control of your body. Yes, we all masturbated, and still do."
Simon blushed an even deeper shade, and looked down at his feet as Mr Swan went on.
"I only want to help you to understand the force of love that will soon follow on the physical urges that you have experienced already."
"Often in adolescence, especially in a school like this, where there is only male company, the first stirrings of love are directed towards other boys. These are important matters to understand as later in life they may be directed towards girls and marriage. But to some this does not happen, and they may feel love primarily for their own sex. This can be a wonderful thing, and many of our best teachers are inspired by such feelings, without them ever leading to physical contact."
"I am sorry that today, in the corridor, my love for you found physical expression, which I could not control."
Simon felt a great surge of emotion for this man who had opened his heart to him. His own heart has skipped a beat when Mr Swan had mentioned his love for him. He wanted to catch him, before he fell. He choked back tears as he lifted his eyes and met Mr Swan's steady gaze.
"I….I…..I understand what happened today," Simon managed to stutter out, his voice choked with emotion. "I…I….do…..what you said……in bed," he managed to get out before bursting into tears and falling forward into Mr Swan's lap, his head resting on Swan's crotch.
Swan felt his heart race, and his penis to engorge under the weight of Simon's head, topped by a mass of curly black hair, which was all that he could see of it. To Swan it felt as if Simon's soft mouth was pressing against his bulging member. He ran his hand over the back of Simon's neck, down his back and across his buttocks, lingering between the back of his thighs. As he gently stroked the Simon's thighs and the cheeks of his arse, and smelled the sweet smell of his hair, Swan whispered soothing sounds to calm the boy, who for the second time that day he found sobbing in his arms. He understood that a great emotional bond had been forged between them, man and boy. He was not sure where it would lead, but for the moment he resisted any idea of exploiting Simon's vulnerability.
With a huge effort of self-control, Swan lifted Simon's head in his hands and looked into those deep green eyes. With the weight of Simon's head lifted, his erection sprang up making a distinct bulge in his trousers.
"Simon, I think that is about enough for one day. I think we understand each other. We will talk again later. But now I am going to make you a cup of tea, so that you can recover before you go back into study."
Simon looked up at Mr Swan, his eyes worshipping this man who he knew loved him. Mr Swan had had also touched the vulnerable centre buried within this talented and apparently confident boy who had a deep-seated need for love. The adolescent boy 's body was excited by the prospect of an encounter with a man, of satisfying the curiosity he had felt seeing Mr Swan naked in the shower with his large circumcised penis and low hanging balls. The calculating intelligence of the emerging man in Simon, perhaps not even half-consciously, knew that here was a mentor who could help him realise his ambitions, as he had already done on the cricket field. Simon felt too the demon of his burgeoning sexuality wrestling with his sense of self, the upright, gifted boy with leadership qualities. For a moment he wondered what was he doing, aroused by the sight and words of an authority figure, the sort of person whom he had always striven too impress and please. His instinct told him, however, what would please this one.
Simon buried his head once more in Mr Swan's lap, this time feeling the warm, smooth roundness of his erection straining against the material of his trousers. Simon lifted his head. Spontaneously he placed his hand along the length of the bulge and slowly slid it along the firm, but slightly soft mass behind the cloth. He looked up at Mr Swan and saw the love that he felt for this man returned in his gaze. His hand continued to move up and down the eight inches of swollen flesh inside the master's trousers, his own excitement growing with each stroke. Simon moved his hand further down to feel the soft roundness of Mr Swan's balls.
"No, Simon, we mustn't. Not this. It is not right for you, much less for me."
It was Swan who now had tears in his eyes.
"Please, Sir. I understand. I want, what you want," Simon pleaded, as his hand found the zipper of Swan's fly and slowly drew it downwards as the master lay there passively.
His hand delved into the opening through which Swan's white boxers showed. He found the opening in them and in another moment the great swollen head of Mr Swan's circumcised penis was inches from Simon's mouth. He began to stroke it lovingly, awed by the size, the roundness, the hard softness, the pearl of clear fluid nestling on the slit in the head, the aroma of manliness that emanated from Mr Swan. Choked with emotion and longing, Simon placed his lips against the head, tasting the precum that was now flowing freely over it. He felt his own penis strain against the cushion of the sofa where he lay face down.
Simon teased the full eight inches of Mr Swan's manhood from his boxers and ran the tips of his fingers lightly down its length to his great balls, nestled like over-sized olives in the pouches of his scrotum. He brushed his forefinger lightly against them, as Jamie had done to him on occasions they were together. He gazed fascinated by his first sight of a man, fully aroused, the bush of pubic hair surrounding this mighty machine and the thin line running up his belly. He ran his fingers through it, then pushed his head forward to take the flaring head of Mr Swan's penis in his mouth, as he had done with Rabbit the night before. But this was different.
This was a man, a man talented but vulnerable, like himself, a soulmate, that he had to comfort. This was the penis of a man, not a boy, its manly dimensions awesome to the thirteen-year-old boy. He wondered if he could fit even the head in his mouth, but he did, and once more the sweetness of the precum filled his mouth as he ran his tongue around the head and slid his hand down the length and fondled the balls once more. He wanted to take what would he knew emerge shortly from those soft oval shapes, as he had taken the full measure of Rabbit's spunk the night before. But this would be different: a man's spunk, not boy spunk.
Swan moaned gently as Simon worked his magic on his penis. He watched the dark curls of his head move back and forth, and the gentle hand as it worked up and down his straining penis and aching balls. He placed his hand on Simon's head, gently encouraging him in his work. Swan felt his body begin to tense, the tingling in the tip of his penis running down its length, through the muscles of his arse as he tightened them in anticipation of the orgasm which was nearing the point of inevitability, up his spine and down to the tips of his fingers and toes as he felt his body about to explode.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he warned Simon.
Simon's hand worked faster and faster on the shaft of Mr Swan's penis as his mouth continued its ministrations to the head. He felt the pulse in the vein at the base as the first spurt of spunk surged through to ejaculate with the force of a fire hose against the back of Simon's throat. Simon tightened his grip as he felt more spunk surging through and wave after wave flowed into his eager mouth till it was overflowing and running in little rivulets down the length of Mr Swan's cock onto Simon's hand. To Simon it tasted miraculous as he swirled it around in his mouth then opened it to let more flow down onto his hand.
At that moment he felt his own penis convulse inside his trousers and his boy spunk erupted into his underpants, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm.
There was a knock on the door. It could not be ignored. The light from the study was clearly showing under the door.
Swan leapt to his feet hurriedly pushing his still swollen cock inside his trousers, fumbling as he did them up. Simon sat up on the sofa, his trousers showing a damp spot where he had come inside them, his hand still covered with Mr Swan's spunk and some dribbling down his cheek, still red and swollen from tears, so that the white drops stood out like pearls against a red dress.
The door opened slightly, and Johno's head appeared around the edge.
"Sorry, Sir, didn't realise you had someone here,' Johno said. "I saw the light on and wondered if I might have a word. Sorry," he repeated, and swiftly withdrew, but not before he had taken in the scene. From his own experience with The Duck he knew exactly what had been going on.
He had enjoyed their relationship, which had gone on intermittently for the past year. He liked and admired The Duck, and the sex had been great, even though he had bridled at being fucked. But what do I do now, he thought, as he wandered, dazed, down the corridor? ______________________________________________________________________ End of Part 6 of Simon's Seduction Comments would be appreciated. E-mail to danielsjim@hotmail.com