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This story includes sexual sexual activity between young males. Anyone likely to be offended by such material should leave this site at once.
THE TWO ROBERTS
From the day we started at our all-boys Grammar School until we finished at age 17, my closest pal was Robert Miller, always called Bobby at school. Long after schooldays were behind us, the two of us used to meet at a pub for a few beers and a lot of reminiscing about school and classmates we remembered for one reason or another. One of them had been killed serving in the Royal Marines.
We well remembered one boy called Adrian. He wore specs, with a round innocent-looking face, long eyelashes and a pile of curly hair. He also had a bigger cock than any of us, proud of it, taking every opportunity to show it off, like when we were changing for PE or swimming. When his was soft, his long skin was right over the end like a tassel. When he got hard, the skin went all the way back by itself, showing the top of his cock, reddish-purple & all shiny. None of us was sure how often he wanked. With a cock like his, he couldn't have kept his hands off it.
By the age of 12, we were all fascinated by what was going on between our legs, like who had hair there, whose had skin on their cocks, whose balls hung down and whose didn't, all that nonsense. The discovery of masturbation and its delights was something else. We never did it for each other, just enjoyed watching each other doing it in some out-of-the-way spot like the lavs or in some thick bushes near our cricket pavilion.
Meeting in the pub, we joked about how many bishops were bashed, our favourite word for wanking, and how much semen was wasted. As schoolboys, we'd never heard of sperm banks. Bobby had been the same as me, just dying for a wank as soon as we were home from school. He told me about one time when just home from school, he was lying naked on top of his bed, taking his time over a wank. He reckoned he'd left off it for a whole week. When his spunk came, it shot all the way up into his hair and on his face. It shook him so much that he had to lie there for several minutes to get his breath back. When he finally got off his bed to clean himself, he saw how two splashes had gone over his head, hitting the bed-board, panicking to get it cleaned off there.
To be honest, I knew about wanking before I could do it. I suppose my experience was not different from any other boy. I started trying when I was about 11, sitting naked on the lav lid at home, rubbing away at my cock until it was sore. Still trying, I got a lovely kind of shiver. That happened a couple of times. Once I'd done it like that more than once, along with the shiver came a squirt of something. It went on the floor at my bare feet. When I stood up, some more drips of it came out. I wiped my cock with some lav paper and when I went to wipe it up off the floor tiles, it smelt weird. After I flushed the paper away, I decided not to say anything to my brother Michael, Mikey. He was over two years older than me.
The two of us shared a bedroom, so it was nothing to see each other naked. Our room had plenty of space for two single beds, some drawers for our clothes & stuff, and two desks & chairs for doing homework. Besides that, as soon as I was old enough to wash myself, we both went under the shower together, scrubbing each other's backs with a rough loofah thing.
I can't remember when I first noticed that my brother's cock and mine were different. Mine had the skin there, quite long. His had just a little scar where he'd had his off when he was a baby. Only once I asked him about it. He couldn't remember anything of it. Being older than me, he had quite a bit of curly hair just above his cock. It was from him that I learned the word circumcised. In our class, only two boys were like Mikey. The rest had their skin still there.
After I'd seen what came out when I wanked, I went on doing it until one day, instead of just the shiver, the feeling I got was like some jolts going all through me. My cock kind of jerked in my hand, and the place right under my balls throbbed as the stuff spurted out, three lots that time, scary but a good feeling all at the same time. It left me out of breath and with my mouth dry. When I got off the lav seat, I needed a drink of water even before I wiped my cock and cleaned the mess off the floor tiles. After thinking about it for a day or two, I plucked up courage to tell my brother.
When I went into our bedroom, Mikey was sitting reading some school stuff. He was in a T and some shorts. I just said I wanted to tell him something. "Well, what now?" Sitting on my bed, I slowly explained how I'd wanked, and what came out, and how good it felt. He sniggered. "OK, so you wanked and you finally got some spunk? Bet it was pretty watery. Anyhow, no need to tell me how good it feels. All you need to do is keep at it, but not every day, mind. You'll surprise yourself. It'll get really messy, so take my advice, never do it in bed, OK?" He stood up, pulling his shorts down. He had nothing on under them. His cock sprang up. "See what you did? Just listening to you talking about wanking gave me a hard-on!" Until then, I'd never seen his cock hard. I remember wondering how long it would be before mine got as big as his.
After we were past the stage of fighting, my brother and me became good friends, so I felt OK about telling him about wanking. One winter when it was very cold, even after I'd been in bed for a while, I was still feeling cold. Mikey was awake. I asked him if I could get in with him. Right away he turned his bed covers back and I got in there. We were both wearing pyjamas and were soon asleep. It was a Friday night. In the morning, we both woke up only when our mum banged on the door before coming in to see why we hadn't come down for brekky. It was close on 9.30. She just gave us a look before leaving, closing the door. As fast as we could, we went for a pee and a quick wash before getting our clothes on and going downstairs. She didn't say anything about catching us together in Mikey's bed, and we were never sure about whether she told our dad. Needless to say, nothing happened when we were in bed. We just slept.
Of course, my brother Mikey was right. After a month or two of wanking, my spunk got thick and white, very sticky. The first time it came like that, I licked it off my fingers. It tasted salty & bitter. As time went on, there was more & more of it, really coming spurting out. On top of that, by the time I was 14 or so, my cock got longer & thicker so I could get my fist round it. It started to give me a bit of bother, going hard for no reason, like on the bus, worrying that other passengers might spot the bulge in my trousers, or in class. In class it didn't matter so much. Other classmates had the same trouble. Nearly all of us wore Y-fronts. For a while I wore an old pair that were tight enough to keep my cock down over my balls.
Just the once I had a kind of accident at school. It was during a maths class. There was a hole in one pocket of my trousers, letting me put a hand inside to finger my cock. The day it happened, before I knew it, I felt my cock jerking and my spunk coming. I managed not to make any noise, just lying back with my legs stretched out under my desk, keeping my hand on my throbbing cock, but as anyone knows, once it starts coming it can't be stopped until it's all over. Another thing Mikey told me was never to grip my cock hard when the spunk started coming. I struggled to get a hanky in there to wipe it up. The boy sitting in the row next to mine guessed what had happened, giving me a grin and a wink.
As soon as the class was over and we had morning break, I made for the lavs, shutting myself in one of the cubicles. When I got my trousers off, it wasn't just my Y-fronts that were messy. It had run down the inside of one leg as far as my sock. I wiped my leg with lav paper, not daring to put my Y-fronts on again, wrapping them & that hanky in layers lav paper and putting them in a pocket of my blazer. I had to put up with being very uncomfortable until I got home. I could hardly believe so much spunk had come out of me, seeing as how I'd wanked twice just the day before.
When I got into the shower, I washed out my Y-fronts in there and once they'd dried they were OK. I had to throw the stinky hanky away. Luckily I had another pair of school trousers. The pair that were messed up that day were never the same even after they were dry-cleaned. After that accident, I never again put my hand inside the pocket with the hole.
So, there's a summary of my experience. Bobby Miller, me, and a couple of others kept on enjoying wanking until we were something like 16 when it was like we just got tired of it.
(End)
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