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I was P.E. teacher’s assistant, or “office boys” as we were called. I was in the boy’s lockerroom two times a day. For me it was like dying and going to heaven twice a day. There were three of us per period and we had various duties, the best of which was passing out the towels from the “towel cage”. The towel cage was situated at the rear of the locker room in the middle of two sets of showers, in an area where everyone had dry off. Given that my hard-on was hidden behind the high counter of the cage I was free to ogle and fantasize at all the different sizes and shapes of the dicks of maybe a hundered different boys a day. I held the post of office boy for two years. After a while you start to take note of the kids that got hard-ons every now and then. I knew that these boys where my kind. So over the years I took the inicitive to befriend as many as possible. And Craig was the first to pay off.

Craig was excused from dressing for P.E. because his arm was in a cast. So on one particular day when my two fellow office boys where absent, Craig was recruited to help me out. I got my regular erection after doing my duties in the the cage. I saw that Craig was also hard. I had seen his hard-on in the flesh a number of times and I wanted more than anything to touch it and feel it and even suck it, if he would let me. Even though he was shorter (5’8″-5’9″) and thinner that me, I knew that his cock was at least two inches longer than mine. He had dark hair, blue eyes, and pale flawless skin. Since this was the fourth period class one of the things we had to do was make sure everyone was out of the locker room for the lunch period before we could leave. So, I made my move after everone had left and we were taking the used towels from the bags at the exits of the locker room, back to the cage. With all the kids gone and the coaches in the office area I strait out asked him why he got hard when he took his showers. At first he denied that he did. But I told him that I saw it with my own eyes. Then I said “It happens to me too, I just want to know why.” After being quiet for a while I asked did he like girls. He answered, “I guess so”. Then I asked if he liked boys and he looked at me and said, “I don’t know.” Then I said, “Me too.”

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Copyright GSC 2006

‘You awake?’ No answer.

‘Sean, mate. You awake?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can’t sleep. You?’
‘No. Too much noise from the rest of the lads. SHUT UP OUT THERE!’
A voice from a nearby tent: ‘Sorry sarge.’
‘Fucking cadets.’
‘What’s the time?’
‘How the fuck do I know Pete?’
‘Must be late.’
‘Get to sleep.’
‘Can’t.’
‘Something on your mind?’
‘Yeah. Something with big tits and the tightest, wettest slit.’
‘Go on.’
‘What d’you mean go on?’
‘Tell me more Pete. Tell me what she’s doing.’

Breathing can be heard within the tent as the camp outside falls silent.‘She’s kneeling, smiling up at me, her lips are wet, sticky from her thick lipstick.’
‘You naked?’
‘Oh yes. And my hand’s wrapped around my cock, it’s almost hard, getting there as she looks at it and licks those shiny red lips. She wants it. She opens her mouth. She licks the end, her tongue tickles around my nob. Her breath is real hot.’
‘Give it to her Pete.’
‘She doesn’t need telling. She slips her mouth over it and takes it all in. All seven inches till her face is buried in my bush and her chin presses on my bollocks.’
‘Fuck Pete, you’re giving me a boner.’

The rustle of a sleeping bag, a zip opens.

‘Not as big as the boner she’s giving me. She’s making groaning noises, slurps on it at the back of her throat. I push it in, she backs off a bit. Her fingernails are digging into the base of my shaft.’

The sound of a hand rubbing on the inside of the sleeping bag. Flesh on nylon. A slow rhythm starting.

‘She’s licking up the underneath of my shaft, playing with my fat cock.’
‘Wish I had someone’s hand around my cock right now, Pete.’
‘Use your imagination Sean. Anything’s possible.’
‘Imagine she’s holding your cock now Sean, can you feel her hand on it?’
‘I’m not sure mate, don’t feel anything yet.’

Another zip opens. Someone shifts position slightly.

‘Now?’
‘Yeah, that’s it. She’s got her hand around it now.’
‘What do you want her to do with it Sean?’
‘Wank me. Slowly, really slow and quiet. So no one hears’
‘Like this?’
‘I want her to grip it harder.’
‘It’s big Sean, she likes your big cock. She likes to feel your skin in her hand as she covers your nob with it. She likes to pull it right back down to your… shaved pubes, stretching your skin right back and squeezing your thick cock.’
‘She’s good… Jesus she’s good.’
‘You getting it now mate?’
‘Nice and slow girl, take your time, build me up.’
‘Slow and hard. Pulls her hand to your nob, runs her thumb around your slit, nice and wet already. Then down again to your shaved skin, gets her fingers underneath to feel your bollocks, she wants to know every part of you while she’s got the chance.’
‘Fuck yeah… Slow and hard… Pete. Like this.’

A movement, uncertain, disturbing the sleeping bag. Someone shifts closer.

‘Slow and hard like this.’
‘She’s got me now too, Sean. She’s got both our cocks in her hand and she’s wanking us together. Nice and slow.’
‘Picture her licking your nob then mine, one after the other. Here’s her tongue around your cut cock. Here’s her fingers in your thick bush and all the time…’
‘Slowly, together, skin over, skin back, playing with our balls.’
‘She’s kneeling now, wanking you while she blows me, I can feel my balls tighten, she’s good at this.’
‘She gunna make you cum Sean? You getting close?’
‘Too close mate… No, don’t speed up. I like the torture.’
‘Slow and hard Sean, I know. That’s it, I like that too mate.’
‘Feel good?’
‘You’re a fucking great mate, Sean.’
‘Oh Jesus, it’s coming… Slow down.’
‘Can’t help it mate, you’re… she’s so… Yes, play with my balls.’
‘Run your finger over my nob. Now wank me mate, slowly… I’m nearly there.’
‘She’s got her mouth open Sean, she’s ready to catch it all. You want her to take it in her mouth?’
‘Will she do that for me?’

Quick movements, a grunt, faster rhythm of flesh on nylon, flesh on flesh. Wet, fast, frantic.

‘She wants to taste your man spunk. She wants you to taste hers.’
‘Move around me…’
‘Like this?’
‘Fuck Pete, I can’t hold it.’
‘Your mouth open Sean?’
‘Yeah. Yours?’
‘I’m ready.’
‘Can’t hold it mate… oh Jes… I’m gunna…’
‘Let it come mate, let it go. With me, together… I’m…’
‘Oh no, oh God, oh fuck…’
‘Harder Sean, wank me… harder…’
‘Urgh… yeah… fuck…’
‘Oh… yes!’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘Mate.’
‘Oh yeah… yeah… oh.’

A long silence. Someone moves. Zips closing. Breathing calms.

Waiting.

‘You awake?’

No answer.

‘Sean mate, you awake?’

Silence.

Half an hour there, half an hour back. He needed booze. Friday night, minus 30 outside. Sure he’d dress for the walk to the liquor store, but he would need to stop somewhere to warm up half way there. Being so late there was of course, not a place in sight. Through the lane of machine shops, impound yards. He could just huddle under a tree if he had to.

On his way he came across a semi-truck parked in the lane that ran behind his house. That was unusual. Most big rigs park near gas stations at least. The trucker was checking his load of pipes, cinching them down. He got a nod from the trucker. Friendly guy he thought. And why, he had no idea. So. The walk back. He was nearly unable to hold onto the bag containing the two six packs of strong beer he bought. His hands were numb. Looking down to shield his face from the wind, he walked close to the flat bed of the truck, which was still there, to block more wind. Suddenly.

“Hey bud!” came a yell from the trucker hanging out the door of the cab. “Warm in here..if you need to warm up.”

Oh heck. He had no time for second thoughts in this cold. He walked back to the cab and hopped in. “Thanks. You don’t know how I appreciate this.”

The trucker smiled. “You could show me…” came another reply.

His heart raced with concern at the remark. “If I could have one of those beers.”

With relief he pulled out a six-pack and took one off, giving it to the trucker. “These rigs can idle all night. Keeps warm enough to stay awhile. He was a bigger man than him. Not enormously so. That did not give him cause for alarm. That he may be some crazy fool was the concern. “It’s okay,â€? the trucker said. “You look worried. I am not a maniac.” He looked the trucker in the eye. “Just thought I’d be nice,â€? the trucker said. Then he did something, forward? Patted him on the thigh. He was burning up in the heat of the cab with his layers of clothes. “Let’s go in the sleeper. More leg room.” The trucker removed all but his t-shirt and jeans, sitting on the sleeper bed in his stocking feet. “You live around here?”

He had already downed a beer and was feeling relaxed. But not relaxed enough to tell this stranger exactly where he lived. “About a mile up the lane.”

The trucker gave a husky laugh. “Too cold to go chasing some ass you know.” Ass. Was this man after HIS ass?

“Well, ass is where you find it.” he replied. “Yes. So get your ass relaxed and take some of those clothes off.”

That sounded like a pass. Was he gay? The trucker. Was he gay himself. No. But he got a good look at the trucker’s ass when he was checking his load. Did he ever think of taking a guy’s ass? Yes. “I’ll take another of those cold ones.” The trucker reached out for one. The remaining beer he had placed between his legs. So the trucker brushed against his crotch as he took another beer.

“Hey,” he replied, “I might just get that ass you were speaking off.” The trucker then had a wide eyed look. “I’m not gay sir.”

“Neither am I.”

Published April 2007 – public newsforum – Author: ruff boy