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Adrian came back to our shared room as I was packing. It was the end of the season at the holiday camp and I was starting university after the weekend. He’d been swimming, as usual, and wore only his uniform green speedos when he flopped onto his bed.

“You off tomorrow then?”

“Yeah. Getting…”

He cut me off, “Better suck my cock one last time, then, eh?”

He’d clocked me as gay almost as soon as we were billeted together. I couldn’t stop myself snatching glances at him – a couple of years older than me (I’m 18,) he was the camp lifeguard so spent his life in speedos and tight t-shirt with a towel round his neck. His short blonde hair was constantly damp.

I learnt the ‘trade’ quickly, and had been sucking him nearly every day the whole season since. Well, him, half the male staff and a succession of holidaying dads and teens, and a few grandads for that matter. My name, trade and chalet number were scratched on many cubicle doors in the guest and staff toilets.

He raised a little off the bed and pushed the speedos down to show his semi-hard 7” cock. I pulled the wet speedos off him and started licking his shaft. I knew exactly how he liked it – lots of tongue work round his shaft and balls, and under his foreskin. NO HANDS. Then take him slowly into my mouth, sucking and licking and even some nibbling until choking him into my throat. That had taken a while to learn, and the first time I had to puke in the waste bin. I was glad he had quite a slim shaft and small spongy head.

Now, he easily breached my throat and seemed to really like my gagging and choking and retching – at least, it always got him harder and verbal, “Yeah, choke on me cocksucker.”

Sometimes, he’d stand over me or have me with my head hanging off the end of the bed and literally fuck my throat. Today, though, he just lay on his bed while I worked his cock in my mouth and throat. I’d been swallowing his meat for about 15 minutes – my eyes and nose were streaming, there was spit and mucous all over his cock and my face, my jaw and throat were sore. I slowed and started licking round his crown to take a slight breather, but he had other ideas.

He pushed me away and I landed with my chest on my bed. He had one hand on the back of my neck and pulled down my shorts and underpants with the other. I shook my head and squirmed around to try and escape, but he was much stronger than me. He hacked up a mouthful of phlegm and spat it straight on my hole, making me struggle more.

“Wriggle all you like, I’ve been waiting all summer to take your cherry ass.”

I felt the slimy head of his cock press against me as he held me down by the shoulders. I tried to say “No.” but I was muffled into the mattress, so I clenched as hard as I could.

“The more you resist, the more it’s gonna hurt you.” And he pushed hard enough to get his head past my resistance. I screamed into the bed and tried to buck him off, but that simply let him drive in further. The stabbing burning pain was almost unbearable as he pounded into me.

Slowly, though, the pain ebbed away as my sphincter and ass muscles adjusted.

“Yeah, you’re a cocksucker and a fuck boy now,” he sniggered, and he picked up a faster, harder and deeper stroke. Then he started growling like he does before he cums and gave several quick sharp jabs before holding himself just inside. When his started pumping he slowly slid himself back in and rocked himself inside while his cock still pulsed.

As his breathing steadied, he pulled out and sat on his bed. I stayed where I was, but reached down to pull my shorts and pants up. I didn’t want to look at him, but he reached over and grabbed the neck of my t-shirt. Pulling me towards him he said “You’re still a cocksucker, and I’ve got a dirty one here for you to clean.”

I looked at the slimy, softening cock – covered in his cum and what was probably blood, and felt my gorge rising. But I knew what would happen if I didn’t. He’d slap me around like he had when I nearly puked on him. So I took him in my mouth and cleaned him off. When he was satisfied, he pushed me away, hauled on a fresh t-shirt and shorts and left.

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I left home once I’d done my A-Levels, six weeks after my 18th birthday in 1978. I couldn’t wait to get out of the village I grew up in where everyone knew you and what you got up to. I knew I was gay, but in late 70s England that wasn’t something you advertised in a rural community.

I’d got a job at the holiday camp just outside the nearest city. It was on the south coast and I was going to the university there in October. I arrived with just the left overs from my school uniform to wear – black polyester trousers, a little too tight, light blue shirts and black jumpers, coupled with a home-cut ‘pudding-bowl’ hair, and a somewhat gangly frame.

I started sucking cock the day I arrived. My chalet mate knew I was gay as soon as he set eyes on me, and within three weeks I was on my knees for a lot of the staff, and even some camp guests.

But now that was over. University was starting and I resolved to put the summer behind me and get on with my life. Adrian was gone – I hoped I never saw him again.

My parents dropped me at the Halls of Residence Sunday afternoon and I was so relieved when they left. I had a solo room since they were topping up my grant (my dad owns an engineering factory.) Then it was a week of paperwork and signing up for courses and getting IDs.

The second week, Wednesday, I went to the GaySoc. There was a postgrad who gave us a lecture about the law and being discreet and safe, and ‘gay-bashers’ and the pressures on campus YAWN YAWN

Some of us went to the Student Union after for drinks, and for some reason I told them about my summer of cocksucking. I blame the beer. The guy next to me, Keith, leaned over and asked, “Did anyone suck your cock?” I looked at him a bit shocked, “Er, no.”

“We’d better fix that, then.” he smiled.

About half an hour later, we closed the door on his shared room in halls. He was the floor under mine, and said his room mate wouldn’t be back before the bar closed. He waved at a chair and I sat as he knelt in front of me and rubbed my thighs. Soon he had opened my fly and pulled my cock and balls out. I lay back and enjoyed him licking and sucking me until I started panting and sat up. He looked me straight in the eyes and choked me down before pulling up and sucking hard. I pumped and pumped until my spunk was dripping out of his nose and he was forced to swallow.

Then he pulled off and came up to kiss me, sharing my load with me. I saw, then felt, he’d been wanking and lifted him higher to get his cock in my mouth and descended on him. He was similar to me – about 6” uncut, and fairly slim. I took him straight into my throat and when he started cumming I pulled away a little to take his cum in my mouth, then away so he sprayed my face. We eventually fell on the bed kissing and sharing his cum.

Next day, I was in the library sorting out my ID when a guy came up close behind me. I turned, it was Adrian. A cannon ball sank in my belly.

“Well, hello fuck boy,” he whispered in my ear, then stood away when the librarian looked up and handed me my ID. I made a hasty exit and leant against the wall outside catching my breath. A few minutes later, he came past and grabbed me by the arm, dragging me to the stairs. He hauled me into the basement toilets and pushed me to the floor then pushed down his tracksuit bottoms and flopped out his cock. “Suck.”

I made to leave, but he slapped me down. “Do your thing, cocksucker.” I leant forward and took him in my mouth. I wanted this to be over quickly so worked hard on his shaft, and in only five minutes he pulsed in my throat and I held him close so I didn’t have to taste his cum.

Soon, he pulled away, put himself away and left. I sat there for several minutes before heading back to the halls.

I don’t know how long I’d been sitting in the common room staring into space before Keith sat across from me. There must have been a ‘look’ on my face, since when I looked up he said “Fuck, Adam, what’s up?” All I could do was shake my head.

“Come on, do you want to talk about it?”

I knew if I tried to speak I’d burst into tears, so I just sort of coughed and nodded.

“Look, my room mate is in, but we can go to yours if you like.”

I croaked out an “OK.” and we went up to my room.

“A single, eh?” He said, looking around.

“Yeah, my dad tops up my grant.” I sat on the bed and put my head in my hands. Keith sat next to me with his arm round my shoulders and I finally started to cry.

Through sniffles, I told him about Adrian forcing himself on me, and then confronting me in the toilets.

“He raped you, man. You’ve gotta report him.”

“How can I? They’d just blame me too. You know what it’s like.” He hugged me tight. “It hurt so much, and when I thought I’d done with it there he is – HERE – I can’t escape from him. What am I gonna do?”

He let go and wiped the tears off my cheeks. “Look, I know some guys who might be able to help. At least warn him off…”

I looked at him for a while, and when I didn’t say anything he said, “Well, just come with me to the club I go to sometimes. At least we can have a night out, and you definitely won’t see him there.

So it was that Friday night we walked down to the Old Town and had a drink in an almost deserted tourist pub before Keith led me down a back alley to a door at the bottom of some stone steps. He rang a buzzer and the door was opened by a large, rough looking guy you really wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

“OK, boys?” he asked.

“Hi,” said Keith, “I’ve been before.” He showed some kind of membership card. “This is my guest, Adam.”

The doorman stood aside and let us in. I had to sign and get a card, then he opened an inner door and we went in to the bar. It was quite dark, and there were about a dozen guys there. Keith got us drinks and led me to a booth in the corner.

There were three guys sat there – a skinhead, a punk and a guy in a tracksuit. The punk looked up as we approached and Keith said “Hi, Loz, this is my friend Adam.” Loz shuffled along the bench and Keith ushered me to sit down, sliding in after me.

“Adam, this is Loz, Boots,” he nodded at the skinhead, “and Rat.” A nod at tracksuit guy. “This is Adam. He’s had a run in with a guy he used to work with.” I was gobsmacked – he just came straight out with it.

I stumbled through the story – telling them about all the cocksucking and Adrian.

“I suppose it was my fault, really. I led him on all summer.”

Rat slapped the table so hard our glasses jumped. “NO! He roughed you up and forced you.”

“Yeah,” I sighed and nodded. “Does it always hurt like that, though.”

Boots sniggered and Loz kicked him under the table. “Sorry.”

Rat leant forward, “Doesn’t have to. You didn’t get any warm up or preparation, and you don’t know how to relax for it. This one,” he elbowed Boots, “quite likes it like that sometimes, but it’s different when you want it like that. Me? I like to take it slow and easy.”

“Most of the time.” Loz smirked. “Look, you’re new to all this. It takes practice and a good teacher to show you the ropes.”

Rat raised his arm like he was in school, “I volunteer!” And we all laughed. I was feeling relaxed in a way I wouldn’t have expected. Not with these guys I’d usually avoid in the street.

Loz, a 6’ plus punk with a 6” black mohican on his head, and black jeans and shirt covered in zips, chains and studs. Boots, about my 5”11’, skinhead in polo shirt, bleachers and braces with what my mum would call ‘Bovver Boots’. He has sharp defined features and piercing ice-blue eyes. Looking at him, I felt a bit dizzy for a second and had an urge to slide under the table and suck him off right there. Rat was older, 30s probably, and short but muscular. He seemed a bit out of place in track suit and trainers.

The conversation turned to other things, and we were on our third pints when Keith decided to leave. “See you at GaySoc?” He leant down and kissed me, waved at the other, and left.

I was feeling really comfortable with these guys, and asked what Rat had meant about warm up and preparation.

“Well, first there’s douching, to make sure you’re clean. And then you gotta get your arse relaxed. Best way is getting rimmed.”

“What?”

“Getting your arse licked and sucked. Rat’s a master at eating arse.” Boots was grinning.

“I’ll teach you, if you want. No pressure or expectations.” Rat said.

“Well, I, er…” I reflexively licked my lips.

“You want to suck Boots’ cock.” Loz winked at me. I nodded, a little sheepishly. Boots grinned at me and downed the rest of his pint, “C’mon then.” We all shuffled out of the booth, Loz went to talk to the bar staff, Boots and Rat led me to a private door and up to the top floor of the building. As we got to each floor, Rat said, “The shops are off this landing… Me and Boots’ bedrooms… That’s Loz’s room, and here’s the den.”

We went into a large room with a door at the far end. Pointing, rat said, “Kitchen and bathroom.” There was old furniture spread around – sideboards and shelves along the walls and a threadbare rug in the centre with a sofa on each side and a padded turned wood armchair at each end. Boots had sat in the chair furthest from the entrance and started unlacing his boots while Rat disappeared to kitchen. I sat on one of the sofas close to Boots, and Rat returned with more bottles of beer. He kicked off his trainers and stripped to a pair of saggy Y-fronts before sitting opposite me. I looked at him open-mouthed. He was tightly muscled with almost no body hair, and his veins stood out on his arms and legs.

“Don’t worry about him,” Loz said as he came in, “he’d go everywhere like that if he could.” He sat in the other chair and started unbuckling his boots. Rat had lit a spliff, and passed it to me. I took it but almost literally coughed my lungs up – I’d not even smoked a cigarette before so had no idea what I was doing. Actually, there was a lot of that tonight. Boots took the joint and sucked hard on it, then leaned over and kissed me, starting to breathe out into my mouth. Rat told me to breathe in, and when I did I didn’t cough. When I breathed out, my head was spinning a little. Boots went back to his laces and Rat came over, tapping me on the shoulder. “Lets get you douched.” He nodded to the door and I followed him through the kitchen to the bathroom.

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I heard Bob Marley playing as I came through from douching. I’d managed to get my shirt and trousers wet, so was wearing only cotton-knit boxers. Rat looked up, raised his bottle and smiled, “Nice pants! You all sorted?”

“Yeah… made a bit of a mess though.” I showed them my clothes.

“No matter,” Loz smiled, “you’ll get the hang of it.”

Rat passed me a beer, and Boots handed me the spliff then gestured for me to sit on the floor. I say cross-legged leaning on the sofa next to him, close enough to smell his sweat and musk. I took a couple of light tokes on the joint, and turned towards him I handed it back, resting one hand on his thigh. He spread his legs as I took a deep slug of my beer.

Looking up past the bulge of his crotch, he locked eyes with me. Eyes which seemed to stab straight through the back of my head, drawing me in. My hands, almost involuntarily, stroked his thighs when I shuffled closer, but as I went to stroke his fly he pushed my hand back, “Not yet… I don’t want no backroom quickie blow job.”

I put my head down and rubbed my face along his leg, into the valley between his thigh and crotch. I nearly swooned when I sucked in a lungful of his funk. Moving to the other side, I did the same. I didn’t know if it was the pot or him, but something was making me high. Probably a bit of both. He squirmed a bit, and when I looked up he’d shed his polo shirt, putting his braces back on his shoulders. Slim and defined, with almost no body hair, his muscles flexed as he raised his arms behind his head and I got a strong wave of sweat. I started sniffing and licking up his belly and chest, and was drawn to his left armpit. Every time before, it had been a furtive suck in a toilet cubicle, or quick blow in some holiday chalet – I’d never thought a man’s armpits would be attractive, let alone erotic or sexy. As I got closer, I just knew I wanted to taste every part of him. I hovered next to his nipple, breathing deeply. Huffing as much of the wonderful smell as I could, like it was the air I needed to live.

Then I felt his hand in my hair pushing me further, until the hairs brushed my nose and I dived in to lick and rub my face in him. After a while, the smell seemed to wear off, and I kissed round his neck to the other side, the ridge of his cock pressed into my belly through his bleachers. When I got there, I huffed in another huge breath before slavering over the hair. Again, it subsided, and I started licking down, over his nipple, until I could press my face against his cock. He shifted forward in the chair, pressing hard against my face, and ran his hand over my head. I reached up and started popping his fly buttons open, until there was just thin cotton separating us. When I reached to pull his Y-fronts aside, he stopped me, and Rat whispered in my ear, “Through the Y-hole, balls first.” I hadn't realised he’d knelt behind me.

It took a while to work out how to pull his balls free so I could get my face in for another hit of his musk. Almost forgetting about his cock, I licked and sucked on his sac, pulling one, then the other, then both balls into my mouth. Then I felt his ridge against my face and, not letting his balls go, struggled to free his cock. He gently brushed my hands aside, “Like this,” and easily pulled himself out. Then rubbed his shaft over my face. “Mmmmmnnn…” I whimpered, slowly letting go of his balls to lick around the base of his shaft. Finally having the opportunity to really enjoy the cock I was going to swallow, I took time to lick all around his length until I could hook my tongue under his heavy foreskin. He tasted of slightly stale piss and cum. I pulled away, drew his ’skin back, licked over the crown and wiped him over my face. I had no idea where this was coming from, I just had to do it.

Slowly, I took his knob, then shaft into my mouth. He was big, maybe bigger than anyone I’d sucked, but I hadn’t seen him properly – it was touch and licking and smell. It took three goes to choke him into my throat, and I had to rise up to get a better angle. He had no objection to my choking, gagging, retching and belching over his cock (unlike some guys, I’d already discovered…) so I kept going until his full length sat in my throat and his hair tickled my nose.

I pulled of a little to slow down and gather my breath and clear the mucous from nose and throat. That’s when I felt Rat stroking my legs up into my boxers and over my arse cheeks. I clenched my cheeks and he squeezed in return. He groped further up to hook the waistband and slowly pulled my boxers down. I realised my cock was straining the my boxer fly, in a way I’d never known before, when it bent back uncomfortably then slapped my belly. I lifted one knee, then the other, and Rat pulled my boxers away. I was naked in front of these men. I had a flash of school showers after P.E., but this was so different.

As Rat started licking and nibbling my thighs, balls and cheeks – making be tingle from my knees to my navel and all up my back – I descended onto Boots again and choked him down, lifting my arse as I did. Rat started moving from my balls, up my root, over my hole to the small of my back. It made me shiver. He did it again. And again. Then started pushing his tongue against my hole as he passed. I did my best to concentrate on Boots, but Rat was being so distracting. He was poking the tip of his tongue into me now, and every time I gagged my hole clenched a little and Rat pushed a little harder.

Soon, my hole was throbbing, sending sensations forking down the back of my legs, through my balls and cock, and up my back. Even my nipples itched. It was all I could do to nurse on Boots’ shaft as Rat probed and gently nibbled my ring. I’d completely forgotten where I was, and even that Loz was sitting watching us, until the music changed to Sex Pistols. I looked up as Loz went back to his chair in just Y-fronts and a black, buckle-up shirt. Rat took the opportunity to pull me round to face him. He wiped the spit and mucous from my face and smiled, wiping the goop on his cock and letting me go back to Boots. A moment later, I felt the tip of his cock against me. I tensed a little, and he leant down to lick the back of my neck and whisper, “Relax.” I did my best, and started rocking back and forth. Each time he rocked, my ring opened a little more until I felt his head pop into me.

“Argh!” I groaned round Boots’ cock and my body tensed. Rat stayed just where he was, rocking just a little until I relaxed and he started rocking further. There was the hot feeling round my ring, but nothing like with Adrian. As he slowly slid in to me the heat spread and seemed to lessen. Then I realised he was taking long strokes and his balls were pressing against mine when he bottomed out. There was different music playing so it must have taken some time. Boots is stroking my head, leaning forward whispering, “You’re doing really good.” I grinned round his cock and went down as hard and far as I could. When my nose hit his pubes and I choked, my whole arse clenched over Rat all the way inside me and he slowly pulled out as I relaxed. Then slowly pushed back in. Each stroke was a little faster and harder, and I’d started pushing back on to him and gripping him inside.

He leant down again and whispered, “This is your first real fuck. We’re your first.” I nodded over Boots’ cock which made me gag and clench. I was starting to cough, and Boots lifted me up, pulling me to him, and kissed me roughly. Rat came up with me, but pulled away on his out stroke. I slumped onto Boots then to the floor, getting my first proper view of Boots’ cock and Rat’s. Boots was definitely the biggest I’d sucked. I guessed 9”, he was wide and flat which explained my aching jaw. Rat was longer than me, about 7”, and fairly slim – not too different to Adrian, but so much better – they both glistened with mucous from my throat and arse.

It soon became clear we were taking a break, or maybe they were done. Rat was sitting on the sofa with his cock and balls pulled through his Y-fronts, in fact, Loz had also pulled his out too – between Rat and Boots in length, he was thick and his balls were huge, hanging down to sit heavy on the chair. I took a slug of beer, and a couple of heavier tugs on the joint as it went round. I stared at Rat’s cock. It had been inside me and I needed to taste it so I shuffled forward and licked over his balls then up his shaft. But I didn’t stop – over his belly and chest to his pits. He was different to Boots, but just as intoxicating. When I pushed into the second pit, I felt Boots behind me, rubbing his cock-head over my hole.

I slid down over Rat’s chest and belly; Boots moved back with me to keep up the cock-massage, and when I got to Rat’s cock I pushed back and down to take Boots and Rat at the same time. It hurt. I half screamed over Rat’s cock before gagging him down and clamping hard on Boots.

“Fuck, yeah.” Boots started an insistent but smooth stroke into me. I was still groaning – the burning was there but I didn’t care. I was getting fucked by this beautiful man and sucking his horny mate who just happens to be the first guy to give me a real fuck. The world had faded away a long time ago. There was just us, the burning pleasure in my arse and throat, the reek of men fucking. It seemed like only moments before Boots’ strokes became erratic, his breathing ragged, and he almost spasmed falling on my back. He throbbed inside me and bit into my shoulder, “NNGGGG….” I was vaguely aware of Rat pushing his fingers in Boots’ mouth and when he released his jaw he yelled out, “AARRGGHH!” He soon plopped out of me and immediately pulled my head to his cock as he sat in the chair. I descended right down on his still hard, cum covered cock. There was shuffling behind me and it had to be Loz pushing himself at my hole. I groaned when he pushed in and the burn came back. But almost as soon as he started stroking into me, I opened to him. Boots pulled away from me, protecting his obviously sensitive cock, and I dropped my head between his thighs.

“Oh!… Oh!…” Loz gave a hard but easy fuck. I reached back and felt round his balls and where is cock disappeared into me, “Fuck, yeah! Argh…” He got faster then suddenly stopped, buried in me. I ran my fingers over his balls. Rat leant down and took Loz’s balls in his hand, making a tight ring round the sac with his thumb and forefinger, then pulled. Loz jabbed a few times, then his cock seemed to grow and heat up as his cum literally ran from his cock. It must have been 2 minutes or more before he finally stopped, and cum was dripping from my balls long before he slid out. I span round, rubbed my face over his slackening cock, and licked him into my mouth. I could feel liquid seeping from my hole when Rat started licking and sucking at my arse and balls.

I fell forward when Loz went back to his chair, and rolled onto my back. Boots had just changed the music – Plink Floyd, now – and sat smiling at me. I looked over to Rat, stroking himself. “You haven’t cum?”

“Takes a while.” He raised his eyebrows at me.

I pulled my feet up and lifted my knees. He grinned a snigger and got on his knees, lifting my legs. He bent close and kissed me as his slid easily into me. After Boots’ length and Loz’s girth it almost felt easy. He took long steady strokes. Pulled his knees up so he could sit up while rocking into me., then pulled me to sit up and turned me round. Leaning on the sofa, he rocked slowly and gyrated inside me as we chatted. It was surreal but wonderful. They were talking about how they’d enjoyed me. Sometimes, Rat gave me a jab. He shared spliff smoke with me. I massaged his cock with my arse, fondled his balls and shaft. He felt round his shaft too, and fondled my balls and cock, scooping up the cum leaking from me and wiping it over my cock and, a couple of times, my face.

Eventually, Boots slapped him on the shoulder, “You ever gonna cum, Rat?”

“Do I have to?”

“No, but I want to take this rabbit to bed and fuck him again.” Reflexively, I grinned and clamped hard on Rat’s cock. I grabbed his arse and pulled us forward so my head went into Boots’ crotch.

“Oh, fuck.” Rat started full strokes, still easy but now with purpose. I gripped his shaft and stroked his tightening balls until he suddenly pulled out and started wanking hard, his head bashing at me. “Yeahhhhhh!…” His first shot went up my back but he plunged in before he shot again, and out and in, and out and in. Over my back, cheeks, balls, arse, and just inside. He went to lick me clean, but Boots pushed him away, “C’mon, Rabbit.” He hooked his hand in my armpit and I jumped up to follow him. I have no idea why I followed him, but I knew I had to.

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As soon as we got to his room, Boots threw me face down on the bed and plunged in hard, Loz and Rat’s cum squelching between us and soaking his Y-fronts. “Arhg, Boots!” I sighed as we bounced on the mattress.

“You like it, eh, Rabbit?”

“Fuck yes!”

He sped up, and soon pumped more cum into me. When he pulled out, I span round to clean him but he palmed me away, pulling his Y-fronts off and wiping his cock with them.

“Damn, how do you stay hard like that?”

“Just do. Can cum at least three times before I go down. But tonight I’m just gonna sleep in you and fuck again in the morning.” With that he hauled the blankets up, slid in behind me and eased in as we fell asleep.

True to his word, I was woken when he started plunging into me. I just whimpered, clamping and wriggling on his shaft. It wasn’t long before I was taking my fifth load of spunk since last night.

He got up, wiped his cock on yesterday’s Y-fronts and tossed them to me, “Souvenir,” he smiled, and quickly dressed. I sniffed the pants then pulled them to head upstairs for breakfast.

“Great wankpants, there, Rabbit!” Rat grinned, and groped me as I went past. “Hmmm, still wet.” He licked his smiling lips and headed out.

Once we’d eaten, Boots let me out by the shop, giving me a hard deep kiss on the way, “See you later, Rabbit!” he called after me and I practically floated back to halls.

As soon as I got in my room, I stripped to my new pants and pulled my aching balls and rigid cock through the Y like they’d showed me. It took only a minute or so for me to soak them with my own load.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much work done, but there were no assignments due. I wore my wankpants for the rest of the weekend, only showering on Monday morning before lectures.

At GaySoc on Tuesday, Russell droned on about something about age of consent and legal shit, but I wasn’t paying attention – I could smell Keith’s sweat and just wanted to get in his pits and on his cock. When we got to the bar, I couldn’t help openly sniffing him. He looked at me a bit awry but I just smiled at him. As we finished our second pint, I leaned closer and said, loud enough for the rest of the group to hear, “Let’s go to my room so you can fuck me.” His face went beetroot, but I saw his bulge twitch and nudged him when I stood up, “Well, you cumming or not?” He scrambled after me and five minutes later we were on my bed, my face in his pits and his cock in my arse. Luckily, I’d managed to use the shower to douche earlier, but it had been awkward.

There was a letter from my mum in my pigeon hole the next morning – they were visiting at the weekend and we were going for dinner for her birthday. I’d planned to go to the club Friday, but figured it’d be a bad idea. Turned out, the visit gave me a chance to get some new clothes. I told them I needed jeans, T-shirts and boots for the machine shop classes starting after reading week and they were only too happy to buy them. When they left I had two pairs of jeans (one black, one blue,) two polo shirts (black with yellow detail, and dark blue with white,) and a respectable pair of work boots.

When the next Friday came round, it was the start of reading week. I had quite a bit of catching up to do, so planned to go to the club then work the rest of the week. I got myself ready – douche but no shower – and pulled on the wankpants (now significantly more cum-stained,) blue jeans and polo and the new boots. I’d been wearing them all week to get used to them and make them look less perfect but they’d given me blisters and my feet ached. I hoped Boots could help me break them in.

It was chilly, so I threw on my green canvas snorkel-parka and headed to Boots’ shop. “Just a minute!” he called from the back. “It’s Rabbit!” I called back, and he practically ran to let me through to where he was working on a nasty looking pair of high heels. He sniggered, “Yeah… But that’s the job and these aren’t the worst things girls put on their feet.” He bundled be up in a hug even before I could get my parka off. He got back to work and I sat chatting while he finished off. “I got my parents to buy me jeans, shirts and boots.”

“Yeah?” he was intent on his work, but still listening. He looked up when I took off my parka and hopped off the stool so he could see me full length. “Oh, nice. How are the boots?”

“Uncomfortable. I’ve got two blisters on each foot.”

“You’re wearing them wrong, or they’re not quite the right size. We can do something about that. I’ve got some of those boots and they’re good. You’ll have to learn to care for them, too, ‘cos I ain’t doing all the polishing.” He stabbed me with his eyes wearing a twisted grin, then went back to the shoe. I sat silently watching him work. I realised the odd tangy smell he had under his sweat was glue and shoe-leather. A few minutes later, he tied a tag on them and I followed him through to the shop where he slid them into a rack with a load of other women’s shoes. A second rack had men’s shoes and boots.

When he turned to look at me, there was a concerned look on his face, “There’s just one problem…” he said as he came towards me, then he scruffed my hair and laughed. “You look so worried. Gotta do something with this.”

“Whoh…” I realised I’d been holding my breath at least since he’d said ‘problem.’ “I wanted to shave, but I’d make a mess of it.”

“Come on…” he turned on his heel and left the shop. When I went out, he was standing outside the barber’s next door. We went in and he called out, “Oi! Blades! Got space for a shave?” The two barbers looked round – a plump skinhead, and slim punk with black spiked hair, both a bit shorter than me.

“Yeah, take a seat. This the lad you been harping on about, then?”

Boots smiled at me, “Rabbit, this is Clipper and Blades.” He indicated the punk and skin in turn, each nodding to me. Blade was snipping away at a guy in his 50s and Clipper was working on a punk with dye and bleach and who knows what.

The guy already waiting got seen next for a quick trim, then I sat up in the chair. Blades quickly clippered off my hair then wrapped hot damp towels round my face and head, patting them down. I watched him deftly hone and stop a straight razor, then work up a bowl of lather with his brush. Removing my face towel, he lathered me up and swiftly got rid of my stubble, all the while stroking my cheeks and neck. It was intensely erotic and I was getting uncomfortably hard in my jeans. He slapped a very cold towel on me, then standing behind, lightly slapped my cheeks a few times.

He repeated the same on my head, until I was completely shorn. He whipped off the bib and set about cleaning his kit while I looked at myself in the mirror. Then he did the mirror round the back of my head, thing and said, laughingly, “Can I get you anything for the weekend, sir?” and winked at me in the mirror.

“Er… No, that’ll be all, thanks. How much…?” he waved the question away and I hopped down to let the next customer in.

Outside, I stroked my scalp and felt the breeze over the smooth skin. I was grinning like mad when I went back in to Boots shop. When he finished the brogues he was re-soling, he took me through to the back stairs and stroked my head and face before giving me a long deep kiss. “It’s a while before the shop shuts so go up to the den and get some tea going.” He kisses me again and I headed off upstairs. “Oh,” he called after me, “go see Rat next door, he’ll sort you out with bleachers, then get your boots and socks off and put some salt and vinegar on your blisters. It’ll hurt, but they’ll dry up nice and fast.”

I ducked through the back door to the clothes shop and Rat nearly fell of his stool behind the counter, “Rabbit?!”

“Hi, Rat. Boots said to come get sorted with bleachers.”

Once we’d found a pair that fitted, and a pair of light blue braces, I went up to the den with instructions to wash the jeans in the bath. When I came out of the bathroom, Loz was making tea and getting dinner. He looked me up and down and smiled, “Well, well, ain’t you the fast worker.” He grabbed a shallow enamelled gazunder, dumped some salt and vinegar in it and poured water from the kettle in, “Get your feet in that, Boots’ll deal with the rest.”

I took the gazunder, and a mug of tea, into the den and bathed my blisters in the stinging water.

Rat came in while later with a skinhead I didn’t know. He was a couple of inches shorter even than Rat, and a bit podgy, “Oi! Rabbit, this is John. How are the jeans?”

“Hanging over the bath to dry.”

Rat was already stripping to his wankpants as the new bloke sat down. “Let’s go see.”

I followed him to the bathroom and he had me strip and put the wet jeans on, then sat me on the hearth in front of the fire in the den to dry faster, “We need to get bleach on these tonight if you’re going to wear them Sunday night.”

“What’s Sunday?” I asked, turning to warm the back of my legs.

“Special night at the club. Skins, punks, rudies, all sorts really. It’s ska, reggae, twotone, northern soul and stuff.”

“All gay?”

“Nah. But all friendly. The NF fake skins and their mates wouldn’t dare come.”

Just then, Boots came in carrying a bundle of boots by the laces and some socks. “How’s the feet?”

“Bit better.”

He dropped the boots by the fireside chair and the socks at my feet, “Put the thin ones on then the heavy ones over the top and over your jeans, and try your boots on. Won’t be a mo.” He went off to the kitchen, returning with tea and a cloth drawstring bag. As he sat in the fireside chair, he nodded at my boots, now laced up on my feet, “Better?”

“Much, but don’t think I want to be wearing them much for a few days.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he laughed, “we gotta get them polished up yet. Might as well get them off. You need a pair of rough boots.”

We spent about half an hour trying on the boots he’d brought in until I’d chosen a comfortable pair I liked the look of – these had cleats up the sleeve instead of eyelets, which I thought looked the business.

“Grub up!” Loz called from the kitchen, and we all piled in for a bowl of stew. After food, Loz, Rat and John headed down to the club, “Take it you two will be bust up here tonight,” Loz smiled at us.

“Yeah,” Boots nodded, “boots to shine and jeans to bleach.”

“OK. I’ll buzz if we need you,” and he left.

We sat by the fire that evening, Boots showing me how to polish my boots. Warming the old polish over a candle to wipe it off, melting in new polish, brushing and buffing, then just a thin layer, brush and buff. I’d gone over the rough boots and my new ones twice each an hour or so later when Rat came in.

“Those jeans dry yet?” he said, stripping.

“Yeah, pretty much,” I told him.

The three of us headed to the bathroom and Rat showed me how to wet areas of the denim and put bleach crystals on to make a pattern. I went for a wide white streak over the bum seam, with drips going down the back of the legs, and random patches on the front and lower down the back. It tok another hour before they were hanging over the bath drying off.

Rat disappeared again and Boots and I went back to polishing, drinking beer, having a spliff and listening to music until the others came up at the end of the evening.

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36 minutes ago, Monorchid said:

Cheers Medwaym 😀 I'm sort of basing it on the guys I hung around with at Rabbit's age (about 15 years after I've set the story.) They were great guys.

Sounds like you met up with some good guys

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...

[Sorry it's been a while, life gets in the way...

Please remember this is set in the 1970s, as there's a character who talks in the vernacular of the time which is not really acceptable now...]

We sat with them and chatted over a beer and spliff for a while, Boots in just bleachers with his braces down, me naked between his legs using them like an armchair. It seemed the most natural place to be, the feeling of his bulge against the back of my neck when I leaned back to look at him.

Finally, the spliff was done and we’d finished our beers, “Well, I’m taking this one to bed,” Boots kissed the top of my head, squeezed me between his legs, then nudged his bulge into me from behind as he stood up. I scrambled to my feet and we left with a chorus of goodnights and have funs.

I sat on the bed, helping Boots peel off his bleachers and pulling his balls and cock through his Y-fronts. There was a pool of liquid in his foreskin, “Have you cum already?”

“Fuck, no! That’s just dick tears.” I leant in to taste, but he put his hand in the way and shook his head. He pushed me back to lie on the bed then lifted my legs to his shoulders. When he lined up to my hole and pulled his foreskin back, I felt his dick tears flow over me and he started pushing slowly in to me.

I groaned at the slight burning pain, and he rocked back and forth. Just the head, rolling his foreskin back and forth. Each time some more tears and a little deeper and harder. The pain was ebbing away as he began to drive full length, still taking slow easy strokes. “Ohh, Rabbit…” He jabbed right in to me and I reached up to pull him close while he gyrated inside me. Slowly, we shuffled up onto the bed and I started massaging his cock with my arse muscles. I found I could ripple them along his shaft and he definitely seemed to like it. “Just … keep … doing … that,” he panted, staring down and spearing me with his eyes. I rocked as much as I could on his cock and carried on massaging. He dropped his head to my neck and started licking and kissing, his panting getting ragged, “Aww… Fu… Aahhh…” He pulsed inside me when he came and moaned into my neck.

It was several minutes before he pushed up onto his elbows and stared down at me, “Where the fuck did you learn that?”

I grinned up at him, “Just now.”

He leaned down and kissed me hard and deep, pulling us up to the pillows and throwing the blankets over us. Soon, we were spooning, him behind, still hard inside me, until sleep came.

Saturday, I went to halls to get my books and stuff after Boots said I could stay all week. I got back just after lunch and there was a queue out the door of the shop. After dumping my bags in Boots’ room, I went back to the shop, “Can I do anything?”

Boots thought for a second, “Er, yeah… Take the customer’s ticket and if the tag on the shoes is green they can take them, anything else I’ll sort out.”

I got to work, and we managed to clear the queue in time to shut up early. When Boots had locked up, I told him I could definitely use the buffing machine and key cutter, “I worked Saturdays and holidays in my dad’s engineering factory. I’ve run much more complicated machines than these.”

He had me buff the rough boots I’d been polishing, then gave me two keys to cut, “They’ll be your keys for the club and the back door.” He gave a half smile, but when I went to kiss him he pulled away, giving a stern head-shake and nodding to the window, “Don’t want everyone knowing what goes on here.”

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t think.”

After an hour or so sorting out the club, Boots and I spent the rest of the night finishing off my bleachers and boots. We were already in bed, me milking another load from him, when we heard the others go upstairs.

After breakfast, I spent Sunday working in the old workshop – it was the room above Rat’s shop. There was a large work table in the middle and several old, floor-standing sewing machines along two walls. I’d got a plan for my essay sorted by the time Boots came to get me for lunch. John followed me down after we ate and I was a little nervous when he followed me into the workshop.

“Don’t worry, Rabbit. Just wanted to look at the machines.”

“Er… OK.” I got back to my work while he looked over the equipment.

John came over and looked at my work, “You’re at the university? What are you studying?”

“Yeah, I’d doing Engineering Control. But it’s a bit boring if you’re not in to it…”

“I work there in the computer lab.” My stomach fell and I must have gawped at him ’cos he laughed at me. “Not going to say anything, mate – apart from anything else, I’d lose my job.” He leant over my work and thumbed through the pages, “Hmmm…. Jacquard, eh? You know we program the computers with cards developed from his system…”

We spent the afternoon talking about punched cards and control systems and all sorts of stuff none of the others would be interested in until Boots came to get us.

“Come find me in the lab next week and I’ll show you some books.” John winked at me as he left.

Boots took me in his arms and squeezed me hard, “Hope you weren’t talking his ears off,” he smiled.

“Nah, he’s OK.”

“Right, you ready for tonight?” he squeezed my arse a little and kissed me deep.

“Will be soon,” I grinned at him as I headed off to sort myself out.

I arrived down in the club wearing my new bleachers and the cleaned up rough boots and found boots sitting at a makeshift shoe-shine booth polishing a guy’s boots. There was a barber station next to him where Clipper was giving a Rudeboy a trim. I grabbed a couple of beers from the bar and went to sit by boots. When he finished the guy’s boots, he turned and kissed me. I looked confused at him, “It’s fine down here – nobody cares. It’s not people in the street, eh?”

“Sure, no…”

Another guy had sat at the shoe-shine and Boots nudged me, “You want a go?”

“Er. Yeah.” I swapped placed with him and he showed me where the different cloths, brushes and polishes were.

“It’s 50p for a basic shine, a quid for a lick and polish, two quid for the full works.” He looked up at the guy in the chair, “What’s it to be?”

He looked down at me, “Lick polish, I think.” He shifted on the seat and put a boot on the footrest.

Boots talked me through it, “So, give the toecap a lick … That’s it … Now polish on and brush off … And another lick before buffing off … Great, I’ll let you get on with the other one. I need to piss.”

Boots came back as I was finishing off and the guy pushed a pound note through the slot in the money box. “Good job, boy,” he said, stroking my head as he hopped down.

The Rudeboy Clipper had been barbering hopped up on the chair, planting his right boot on the footrest, “Full works, bwoy,” he said in a heavy Jamaican accent. I took in his scuffed Dms then looked up at him – short, maybe 5’4”, tight trousers with a clear ridge down this left leg, white shirt, black tie, jacket and pork-pie hat. He was clean shaven with very short hair under the hat and his ebony skin almost glinted in the club’s dim lights.

Boots whispered, “That’s a full bootlicking to start…”

I looked at him briefly before leaning forward to lick over all of this guy’s boot, lifting his trousers as far as I could to get up the boot sleeve. When I’d thoroughly wetted as much as I could, I put the polish on and brushed off before repeating the thorough licking and finally buffing it off. Boots and the guy, whose name I gathered was Leroy, chatted while I worked, and when I’d finished both boots, Leroy pushed a folded up five pound note into the money slot. “It’s only two quid.” I said, but Boots nudged me, “It’s a tip.”

“Ah…”

Leroy leaned down to me, “So, honky, you suck nigger dick?”

I looked at Boots, but he just shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

“Not yet,” I said as Leroy got down from the chair. He stuck his hand out for shaking, but when I took it he pulled me close and bent down, “Find you later to sort that out, bwoy.” And he let go and strode off.

“Fuck, Rabbit, I hope you know what you’re doing.” Then he grinned and we laughed. Nobody was waiting for bootshine so we headed off to the booth for a beer with Loz Rat and John. “Rabbit’s going to suck Leroy’s dick,” Boots announced as soon as we sat down. There was much leaning over of the table and slapping of my back and shoulders.

“You’re fucking honoured.” Laughed Loz, “Leroy doesn’t let just anyone…”

Boots and I went off to the shoe-shine a couple of times before the music started ramping down, and eventually most of the punters had left. We were waiting for the stragglers when Leroy came over, stood at the end of the booth next to me and grabbed his cock through his trousers.

“You suck my dick now, bwoy.” It wasn’t a question. I leant forward to press my face against him and he grabbed the back of my polo shirt, pulling me up and then pushing me into the other part of the club. He sat in one of the easy chairs there with his legs spread and his arms on the arms of the chair, “C’mon honky bwoy, know you want some nigger dick.”

I dropped to my knees and pushed my face into his groin, moving around to rub his balls and the shaft I could feel against my cheek. I reached up to open his belt but he slapped my hand away, “No touching, bwoy.”

I carried up rubbing my face against him and stroking his thighs, which he didn’t object to, but avoided touching his dick. He smelt different to Boots and the others somehow, more earthy, but the musky sweat odour had the same effect. After a few minutes, he pushed my head aside and opened his fly – he didn’t wear underwear and hauled his dick out in one swift motion until it slapped my face. When he leant back, I started licking the length of him. He was about 10 inches, and when I got to tip I wasn’t sure I could open wide enough to take him comfortably in my mouth. When I looked up at him, he had his head back, eyes closed, with a small smile on his lips.

I started licking over his head and sucking under his foreskin, gradually taking him further and further into my mouth. The first time I choked on him, he sat upright, “No bwoy!” I relaxed and started licking and sucking over his knob end and shaft. I’d been working him over for about 20 minutes before he became vocal again, “Yeah, bwoy, that’s it… Gonna feed you my nigger spunk…” He kept up the vocals, I was his biatch, a batty-bwoy cocksucker, I loved it. With every insult, his cock got harder in my mouth until finally he growled and thick cum pumped from his cock. “Eat my nigger cum, bwoy.” And I did, every last drop.

He abruptly stood up and stuffed himself away. I looked up at him, “Do you fuck honkys, too?”

He slapped me hard on the side of my head, “Me ’int no batty man.” And off he went, slamming the exit door behind him.

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