Chapter 1

My name is Guy. I went to an all-boys school somewhere in Central England. It was as such schools are - a lot of testosterone, an excessive focus on sport and a pretty unhealthy attitude to sex, especially homosexuality, by which most boys seemed both fascinated and (outwardly at least) repelled.

That was always a problem for me, because once my own sex feelings started to kick in at 12 or 13 I very soon knew that I was homosexual. To begin with this amounted to little more than excessive emotional attachments to a few classmates. These adolescent crushes generally faded quite soon, but by the time I reached 14 I had become fixated on one boy in particular in my class.

Rob had a lot going for him. He had become a strikingly handsome, not to say beautiful, boy. He had a creamy complexion framed by lustrous, silky black hair, which he wore to nearly his shoulders, in the fashion of the time, but always very neat and perfectly trimmed. He parted it in the centre. In some ways that might almost have been called girlish, but there was nothing girly about Rob.

He was perhaps a bit above average height for his age, but perfectly proportioned - strong but not muscle-bound, solid but not hefty. He was very fit, not least because he was an amazingly talented sportsman - the best footballer in the class and probably the most naturally talented cricketer I ever played with.

He was quite shy about exposing his body when we got changed for sports, but I had on a couple of occasions manged to get a glance at his cock. That only fuelled my lust even more. He was uncut, perhaps a bit bigger than average, with a smooth cock free of deformities like mushroom head or prominent veins. It was a beautiful cock (probably I was biased) and I yearned to touch it, kiss it, lick it and above all take it in my mouth and suck it until he shot his hot cum down my throat.

Academically he was no more than average within a very competitive selective school. That was the one area where I had the advantage over him.

But as we grew, and as we became more overtly sexual, he always expressed himself as heterosexual. He talked quite a lot about girls, and seemed to have some girlfriends (since it was an all-boys school I only heard this at second hand). I always imagined the girls would be throwing themselves at his feet.

By the time I was 15 I had a serious fixation on Rob. I found him very sexy, and I longed to do sexy things with him. He knew it, because he wasn’t stupid, and I wasn’t good at hiding it; anyway, we were in each other’s company more or less every school day, so it would have been difficult for him not to know it. He never showed any sexual interest in me, but for the most part he wasn’t cruel to me either, though he did have one little trick to let me know that he knew what I was thinking. Any time it was just the two of us he would call me ‘Gay’ instead of ‘Guy’. It was done teasingly and with something of a smile, and I didn’t mind it too much, but still it was frustrating to be around him and not be able to get closer.

Then, one day, when we were sixteen, we had a conversation which was to prove fateful. It was during the Summer and we were playing on the same side in a cricket match. We were both waiting to go into bat (he was infinitely better than I was) when suddenly he said, out of the blue

‘I’m not going out with any more girls’

Well. I agreed with that, but it was pretty surprising from a heterosexual 16-year old boy, and I looked at him rather quizzically

‘Really?’

‘Yes, they’re more trouble than they’re worth’.

Well, I agreed with that too, but I was left wondering why he would choose to say it, and especially why say it to me. I probably should have kept quiet, but an idea began to form in my head.

‘So what are you going to do instead?’

A fair question, I thought.

He shrugged and smiled a little uneasily.

I really should have stopped there, but we were alone, and I was thinking with the wrong head, as most 16-year old boys do.

‘Well, if you ever feel like batting for the other side... ‘

And I wasn’t talking about the cricket match.

The idea was immediately dismissed

‘No chance’.

Well, it was worth a try on my part. If he had left it there, then what came subsequently probably would never have happened. I would have just written it (and him) off and gone on with my life.

But he couldn’t resist a final touch

‘And it wouldn’t be with you, anyway’.