You Never Forget The First Time : (c) Hamilton Joyce  Mm

It's true, you know, the first time sticks in the mind all your life. In my case it 
was a very minor 'fumble', but what it led to was much, much more 
significant.

A hot summer afternoon in the school holidays. It was the day after my twelfth 
birthday, and my friend Jon was about a month older (he never let me forget 
that!). A bottle of cider in each of our small rucksacks, we were headed for a 
grassy clearing among the bushes on our local golf-course. It had been our 
secret place since we were about seven. We would laze there all afternoon, 
chatting, drinking our illicit cider, and smoking a full packet of Woodbines 
between us. I still enjoy cheap, rough cigarettes: live dangerously, that's what I 
say!

Someone had been in our glade. It was still tidy, but a magazine had been left 
behind. We sat down side by side, backs to the great boll of the oak tree. I 
picked up the book. It had a plain brown paper wrapper. It was American, and 
I guessed it had been left there by one of the US servicemen who played golf 
there.

'Hey! Look at these, Jon.'

He leaned towards me, as I leafed through it. The drawings were of naked 
men, huge, muscular, handsome. Later I was to collect ALL Tom of Finland's 
published work and a couple of originals, but this was the first I'd ever seen. 
And as far as I can remember I'd never seen an erect adult penis even as an 
image on paper. I was astounded. 

'Jesus! Look at the size of that!'

The magazine was spread between us as I turned the pages. I stopped at a 
drawing of a muscular, dark-haired guy, wearing a leather harness and a black 
flat cap. He was half-profile, and his cock stood out at forty-five degrees. You 
could see the muscles defined on his belly, and the knotted muscles of his 
great thighs. I was stroking my cock, absent-mindedly, and immediately 
noticed that Jon was too.

'Hey! You're hard, Simon. Me too.'

'Like him in the picture. Do you wank off, Jon. I do!'

For some reason boys then were normally a bit ashamed of  masturbating. By 
the time we were in our late teens, all that guilt had gone, though it was 
usually a solitary pleasure, except for gays like me. And as you will see, I soon 
had an adult friend to show me the way.

'Sometimes.'

'I'm horny!' I unzipped my grey shorts, and took out my cock.

'Me too.' My friend unzipped, and I could see the shape of his hard under the 
baggy white underpants. He stroked it through the cotton.

'You'll get your pants all sticky. I don't wear underpants in summer.'

I slipped my shorts down to my ankles and pulled my shirt off over my head. I 
lay on my back stroking my cock, gently as I liked to do to start off. The sun 
was warm on my chest and belly.

'Don't want to come over my shirt!'

Jon was still stroking his cock through the cotton, stretching the fabric so I 
could clearly see the shape of his knob.

'You'll muck your clothes up, Jon, and your Mum will know.'

'Oh, all right.' He pulled his shirt off, and then slipped shorts and underpants 
down to his ankles like mine. It was amazing. I had never realised how my 
schoolpal Jon could be sexy. But now I could see his cock as well as the naked 
chest, belly and legs I had so often seen, he was incredibly sexy to me. That 
was perhaps the moment I first knew I really was gay.

The book was open at a page of four naked guys in an athletics locker-room. I 
knew some men had bodies like this (remember the Charles Atlas ads in the 
back of comics?), but not that cocks could be so magnificent, so exciting. And 
Jon's cock was exciting to me as well, though at most half the size of the 
pictures. Suddenly, for the first time, I wanted to take him in my arms and kiss 
him, feel our cocks rubbing together, caress his soft, tanned skin, lick his flat 
belly. Yes, and wrap my lips round that pretty knob.

There was a tightness in my chest, and my heart was beating so loud that I 
knew Jon would hear it. How I wanted him!

But I did not dare! So I just lay beside him, wanking, and watching his hand 
slip up and down his shaft. He turned a page. Two hugely-endowed guys 
standing by a railed fence. They both have hard cocks, and it looks as if one is 
offering his bottom to the other. I had heard of this. We called it 'bumming', 
but in my heart of hearts I didn't believe that men really did it. The idea was 
doubly exciting though.

'Jesus! Look at that. You know what they're gonna do?'

'I can guess!' His hand was flying up and down his shaft now.

'Let me!' Almost without thinking, I reached over, and gripped his cock. How 
strange to feel that knotted strength under such silky smooth skin. So like my 
own, yet so different, so other. I ran my hand up and down it twice. It was so 
exciting that I was coming. I was coming without even touching my throbbing 
cock. More spunk than I had ever had before, great spurts up to my shoulders, 
onto my face, covering my chest and belly.

'Bloody hell, Simon. You always come like that? Bloody buckets full.' I was 
wanking him hard now, and stroking his belly with my other hand, leaning 
over him. Then he was coming. Not as fiercely as me, but I loved to watch the 
little fountains spraying up onto his chest, and over my hands. A blob hit my 
chest and mingled with mine from a second or two earlier. I ran my fist up and 
down his shaft as it twitched, my grip slippery in his come.

'I done now, Si.' He moved away from me. On an impulse I licked the spunk 
on my hands. It tasted just like mine, but, excitingly, it was not mine. I licked 
my hand clean. Jon was reaching into his pockets looking for a handkerchief.

'Let me. I always eat mine!' His body stiffened as if unwilling as I leaned over 
him and licked the come from his chest and belly. I was hard again, or perhaps 
I had never gone soft. Anyway, I was enjoying licking his smooth skin. I ran 
my lips over his limp cock, but did not dare take it in my mouth.  

'Bloody hell, Simon. You must be queer! I couldn't eat someone else's spunk.'

'It was nice. and now I'm  having mine!'

He pulled his shorts up as I wiped mine up, and licked my hand. I was still 
hard, and  wanted to wank again. But he was not interested now he had come.

'I think it's best by yourself Si. Doesn't seem right somehow to have someone 
else do it. I don't want to do that again.'

And we never did, in fact. 

                              ........................................................................

Unknown to me, Lieutenant Morrison was watching all this hidden in the 
bushes. I later realised that he had deliberately left the Tom magazine in our 
clearing, knowing we often went there, and would find it. He had followed us 
at a distance, and made sure he saw everything. Later, much later, he showed 
me what he had written in his diary.

'I really noticed Simon for the first time at the swimming gala. The Base had 
sponsored it as usual. It was not just his smooth, tanned body, on the cusp 
between childhood and adulthood. Not just those swimmer's shoulders, just 
beginning to show muscles, flat belly, long legs, again slender with the 
beginnings of muscle, and that lovely little bulge in his tight swimming 
trunks....black nylon I remember. No, there were plenty of boys there just as 
tasty. What really attracted me as I studied him, was the way he was looking, 
out of the side of his eye at other boys, and ignoring the swimsuit-clad girls 
giggling, and preparing to compete. He was gay! I was sure of it. He probably 
did not know it yet.

'I cheered as he won his heat, and went on to win the freestyle under 13 final 
with a strong, athletic crawl. I longed to have him!

'Without actually stalking him, I watched his comings and goings. He was 
'best-friends' with Jon, another very good-looking boy. But I guessed he 
would not have much luck there. I mean sexually. No, Jon was clearly hetero. 
You could see it by his more openly watching the girl swimmers! I soon 
established they had a secret place to smoke, drink wine, and enjoy themselves 
apart from adult control.

So I set up the trap! I had considered a more grossly porn photo magazine. 
Men and boys sucking and fucking. But I was afraid that might scare them off. 
Tom drawings seemed ideal. Very erotic, very masculine, but not explicitly 
sexual .

I watched my Simon turn the pages, myself  hidden in the shade of thick 
willow bushes. I was sure I could see his cock hardening under the thin, 
summer shorts. He stroked it outside. Then he slipped a hand up the leg of his 
shorts, and I could see him fingering his cock. I was hard now, and slipped my 
own out my flies. I stroked it as I enjoyed the show. Jon was stroking himself, 
too.

I could just hear some of their words. As they looked at the pictures, their 
voices dropped, and I had to strain. But it was clear they found them 
interesting (in Jon's case) and exciting (in Simon's).

Then, to my joy, my Simon slipped his shorts down to his ankles, and I had my 
first sight of that cock I came to love so much. Small, of course, white and 
straight, with the loveliest red knob now he had pulled the foreskin back. My 
delight was doubled when he pulled his shirt up and I could see him naked. 
Just the lightest fuzz of golden pubic hair. How I would have loved to caress 
his smooth, tanned body. My cock was enjoying this too! 

They turned the pages. Jon had not got his cock out, but was stroking it 
through his white cotton undershorts. I could see the shape of it. I like 
underwear, and really enjoy the feel of a hard cock under cotton, like a great 
banana! As a prelude to having it naked of course. And then Jon was naked 
too, the two boys lying side by side jerking.

I had my binoculars in the back-bag I used when running. I brought them into 
focus, first on Simon's then on Jon's cock. Back to Simon's. The knob was 
clear now, and I could even see a tiny drop of white cum in its eye.

I was right about Simon. He reached across, and was jerking his friend's cock. 
Jon did not reciprocate, but did not need to, as almost as soon as he had his 
friend's cock in his grasp, Simon was coming. And I came too as I watched 
that lovely little cock give up its spunk, in great gouts and blobs. Untouched, it 
twitched, throbbed, waved, spurting its load, until finally the last oozings ran 
down the shaft and over his tight little sack. He must have been very excited.

I watched Simon bring Jon off, and was amused to see him lick up all the cum 
from both of them. I swore to myself I'd try to have him, particularly as he 
would obviously swallow rather than spit! I stayed till they were dressed, and 
then carefully, silently, extricated myself from the thicket, and continued my 
jogging.

When I returned an hour later the glade was empty, with no sign it had ever 
been occupied. My magazine was gone, presumably as an aid to nocturnal 
masturbation. I was sure Simon would have it, not Jon.'

                                          ......................................................

It was a couple of years before Uncle Scott showed me his diary, but I had 
guessed before that that he had left the magazine to seduce me!

He made his pass the next afternoon. I was in our front garden, and to tell the 
truth I was there because I liked to see Lieutenant Morrison jog past. He was a 
keep-fit fanatic, and he jogged every day. This was Sunday, so I knew it would 
be mid-afternoon. Weekdays it was evenings after work. In the winter he wore 
tracksuit, top and bottom, so I had to guess what he looked like. But now it 
was summer, it was often just a pair of shorts, and I could see his wonderful 
broad chest, as tanned as mine, and in fact just as smooth, I loved to see his 
biceps as he ran, and his broad shoulders. He wore loose, white shorts mostly 
in the summer, and I could see how strong his legs were, with their fluff of 
golden hairs. 

That afternoon I thought of the men in 'Tom of Finland', and thought that 
Lieutenant Morrison would fit in well in that locker-room, or among the men 
in the stables. I wondered if his cock was as big. As he jogged towards me 
down our suburban road I got up from my deckchair, and wandered to the gate. 
I could see how flat his belly was, but not the shape of his cock. The shorts 
were too loose for that.

For the first time ever, instead of just the cheery 'Hi!' as he jogged past, he 
stopped by the fence.

'Hello! It's Simon isn't it?'

'Hello Mr Morrison.'

'If you've got a minute, Simon, I'll tell you a little story.'

'A story?'

'It's like this. Yesterday I was jogging across the golfcourse when I heard 
noises in the willow thicket. I thought it might be a deer or a badger, so I crept 
in and looked. It was much more interesting....'

I was struck dumb, appalled.

'A vision of young love, sheer delight and pleasure. And how I enjoyed seeing 
the two boys come. Especially when the blonde one...' (I am blonde). 
'...reached over to pleasure the dark-haired boy.' (Jon has brown hair). 'It was 
fascinating that it seemed to be the act of touching his cock was so exciting 
that he just came. And what a come!'

I was silent, but I know I was blushing, not knowing where to put myself.

'It was so nice, and reminded me of when I was your age. I know better ways 
of doing it now, of course!.' He laughed.

'You won't tell anyone? I mean my Dad would....I don't know what he 
would....'

'Of course not Simon. A Secret between you and me, and your handsome 
friend too. By the way you are even more handsome than him you know.'

'I hardly touched him at all. And he didn't touch me. And he says he won't do 
it again.'

'His loss, not yours, Simon.' I loved his smile as he said this, and leaned even 
closer to me over the fence. 'You want me to show you other ways? What with 
college and the army, I've had a lot of practice.'

'Would you, Mr Morrison?'

'You know my house?'

'Number twelve.'

'Give me half an hour to shower. I've been jogging. Then come round. The 
front door will be open.'

                                                   .........................................................

I also had time to wash my arse and cock! I didn't exactly know what these 
'other ways' might be, but was certain I needed to be clean 'down there'.

As I walked up his front path I felt nervous, but excited. The tightness in my 
chest was the same as when I saw Jon's cock for the first time, and reached out 
for it and reaching too for a non-hetero future, true to my own nature. I now 
get that feeling of sexual anticipation when a new partner appears in my life. I 
wasn't sure what would happen, and still thought it was 'wrong'. But, my God, 
it was exciting!

The door was on the latch and I pushed it open.

Lieutenant Morrison was standing just inside, completely naked. The first 
thing I saw was the white tanline of his swimming costume, stark against the 
deep tan of the rest of his body. The second was his cock, half-limp, half-erect, 
drooping in a graceful arc. Then his lovely muscular belly and chest. Then his 
smile and laughing eyes.

He put his hands under my armpits and effortlessly lifted me till I was level 
with him. Then his mouth was on mine and we kissed. I could feel his cock 
hardening as our bodies pressed together. His tongue entered my mouth, and I 
was hard myself. I forced my tongue into his mouth, something I had learned 
only a second before. It was so sexy! Now he had one hand under my bottom, 
and I could feel he was supporting my whole weight with it. I reached around 
and clasped my hands around his neck.

'Not fair, Simon. I'm naked and you're dressed., He was picking at the buttons 
on my new, white shirt. I undid them myself and let it drop to the floor. I 
fumbled with my belt, and my shorts joined the shirt. I kicked off my shoes 
and was as bare as him.

'Much better. You're very handsome, you know.' But I was too enthralled by 
the sight of his cock. Twice as big as mine, it stood at forty-five degrees from 
his hard-looking stomach. He was hairless, which made it seem even bigger. 
On an impulse I moved towards him so my cock brushed his thigh, while his 
rested on my chest. I put my arms around him, my cheek feeling his warm, 
smooth chest.

He lifted me up, effortless, and I was in his arms. 'Bed is best!' As if I was no 
weight at all he carried me upstairs, cradled in his arms. I thought 
incongruously of the groom carrying his bride over the threshold. I wondered, 
half-hoping, half-fearing, whether I was to be his bride this afternoon. Would 
he have me, 'bum' me? Would it hurt? He was so big! The excited tightness 
still in my breast, my heart beat, and my cock was standing. His knob touched 
my arse as he carried me upstairs, and I kissed him at the top of his arm, near 
his shoulder.

He laid me gently on the huge double bed, and was beside me. The gold satin 
cover was cool against my flesh. He kissed me, and his body felt warm against 
me. I could smell his heady aftershave. He pulled me closer to him in our 
embrace, and our legs intertwined, his cock between my thighs, mine hard 
against his belly. Then his mouth was on my right nipple, nibbling and licking. 
It felt as if it was joined somehow to my prick, which twitched as the nipple 
hardened under his caress. Then the other one, his hands stroking my chest and 
shoulders. He slipped down the bed, and his tongue was in my navel, licking 
round it. One hand still tweaked a nipple, almost painfully hard, while the 
other now cradled my balls, stroking them gently with the tip of his fingers.

I knew that if I was to be his bride, he would be a considerate and gentle lover. 
I realised that without thinking I was stroking his body wherever I could reach 
it, pressing, fondling, kneading strong muscles.

'Be gentle. I've never....'

'I know, my little summer bunny.' And then the most wonderful sensation as 
for the first time I felt lips round my cock, the knob at first, and the lower and 
lower down the shaft till his mouth was against my belly, my whole prick in 
his mouth, hot and wet. His tongue was playing games as he sucked. I looked 
down and could see his cheeks drawn in with the suction, and yet his tongue 
was flickering about, teasing the front of my prick, there where it is most 
sensitive.

'Let me too!'

It was difficult to arrange ourselves, as I was so much shorter, but we 
managed. And now I had his knob in my mouth. It was nearly too big for me, 
and my jaws were stretched wide. I tried to copy him, but could only get about 
half his cock in me before his knob touched the back of my throat and I 
gagged.  I took it out and licked the vein at the front. I knew that was the most 
sensitive part. And then licked and sucked it as if it was a mango slice, side on.

He was moving his head so my cock was slipping in and out between his lips. 
The feeling was wonderful, and I knew I would come. I told him, but he just 
gobbled faster, and stroked my balls with the tips of his fingers. 

I took his knob again in my mouth, holding the shaft at its root so it would not 
go in too deep. Now I could suck him properly, and he was in fact fucking my 
mouth as I sucked. I was coming! My balls had emptied the day before with 
Jon, but I knew I was pumping spurt after spurt of hot come into his mouth. He 
swallowed.

And I tasted cum in my mouth. I felt his body tense, and then he was coming 
in me. I was eager, and rubbed his cock with my hand, stimulating more and 
more spurts. Hot come was better than licking up from Jon's chest, I decided. I 
now knew what I wanted in life. Cum, cum, and more cum!

Finally we lay quiet, a limp cock in each mouth. I let his slip out as I spoke, 
my cheek against the silky skin of his belly.

'Mr Morrison, you shave your body?'

'It's Lieutenant Morrison.' He pronounced it 'lootenant' of course. 'But call 
me Uncle Scott. I have it waxed. My favourite lover likes me smooth, and does 
it for me whenever I get gooseberry. My favourite until I met you, that is, 
Bunny.'

'Lover?'

'I'll show you.'

There was a tv in the room, widescreen. He loaded a disk in the player and 
came back to the bed.  I thought his cock was nearly as exciting hanging in an 
arc as ramrod straight.

He sat up, propped on pillows, and I was beside him, thigh-to-thigh, my arm 
round his shoulder, one hand feeling for his balls.  The screen flickered into 
life. A couple were dancing. I could see the debris of a meal behind them, 
bottles, glasses, plates. It was a slow smooch. He was naked. I knew it was 
Uncle Scott from the triangle of his broad, bronzed shoulders, down to the 
tiny, hard, white bottom. She was leaning on him, kissing his neck, arms round 
his neck, dressed in a green satin robe and gold high heels. As gold as her 
shoulder-length hair.

'You go with girls too?' I was disappointed and even jealous. I don't think I 
would have minded if it had been a boy he was dancing with. I intended to 
have other boys now I had found out how good it was.

He laughed. 'Watch and you'll learn something.'

My cock was half-hard, and he was holding it, though not masturbating me. I 
did the same to him.

The dancers moved, and now her back was to the camera. I saw him undo 
catch, and slip the zip down from her shoulders to below the waist. The dress 
fell to the floor and she stepped out of it.  They still smooched, his hands on 
her green, shiny knickers, hers still round his neck. I saw his hand slip down 
the waist of her panties, and the shape of it between her bottom cheeks.

He said something, and she laughed. She stood away from him, and removed a 
plastic thing from her knickers.

'It's called a gaff!' my lover commented.

I was astounded when she pulled the crotch of her panties to one side, and an 
erect cock popped out.

'See. I told you you'd learn something. She's nice, isn't she?' His cock was 
hard now, and so was mine, but whether in was the images on screen or the 
feeling of his hardness that made me erect, I don't know.

I hardly noticed his tongue gently licking my balls as the scene unfolded. My 
new lover knelt in front of the settee, the same one I had noticed as I walked 
into his room a few minutes earlier.  The 'girl' knelt behind him, and oiled her 
cock from a tube, while he spread his buttocks, one strong hand on each cheek. 
I  wished there was sound on the video as 'she' laughingly said something. But 
then she was in him. I had heard about this, but till then imagined it was just 
one of those stories older boys made up. And she was fucking him, her smooth 
thighs banging and slapping against his equally smooth, but much sturdier 
bottom.

He was licking my cock now, and fingering my anus. He must have put some 
spit there as the tip of one finger was entering and exiting. Still I scarcely 
noticed as I watched, entranced, the adult secrets on the screen.

She must have come, as they changed round now. She lay on the settee, her 
legs hanging over it. Her cock was limp now, and glistened with the oil and 
her come. I thought she looked pretty in her lingerie and nylons...but not as 
good as my masculine god, who stood over her, anointing his cock. I could see 
the thick veins on it I had noticed while sucking him.  

She raised her arms to him, but he grasped a knee in each huge hand, and bent 
them up. I could see her arsehole, and knew what he was going to do. He 
entered her, and they lay clasped together, her motionless, he moving up and 
down. I was learning a lot. They kissed, and from the more desperate, frantic 
movement of his arse I knew he must be coming.

The tape ended.

His mouth left my balls, though his finger still tip-tapped at my arsehole. He 
kissed me.

'I never knew...'

'Why should you? '

'I'd like....'

'Are you sure?' To be honest I wasn't sure. My excitement and eagerness to be 
possessed wholly by this handsome warrior was balanced by a fear. Would it 
hurt?'

'I'd like to try. But I'm afraid it would hurt. You're so big!'

'It would if I just shoved it in. But you've got to learn.'

And he taught me to enjoy it. Another thing I have to bless him for, all my life.  

He arranged me so I was laying on my belly, a pillow under me, one leg 
straight, the other bent. I felt his hands part my arse, caressing the cheeks. 
Then his mouth on me, kissing my anus. Then his tongue licking round and 
round me. It tickled and I giggled.
'Nice?'

'Lovely, Uncle Scott.'

'How about this then?'

 I felt the tip of his tongue penetrate me. I giggled again. This was fun!

There was a pause as he opened the drawer of a bedside table. Then he was 
stroking my secret place, and I could feel he was rubbing oil in it. I gasped as I 
felt his finger enter me, slipping through the oil. My anus contracted on it, 
gripping.

'Now what I want you to do is to learn how to relax on it when you want to. 
Try.'

I managed to get it to relax, and felt his finger slipping easily in and out.'

'That's right. You're nearly there.'

But then another spasm and I was gripping it tightly again.

'OK, now relax it again.'

'That's good.' The finger was moving in and out, while he caressed my 
shoulders, back and bottom with the other hand. I felt completely relaxed, and 
was beginning to enjoy the sensations in my arse, which seemed to 
communicate directly to my cock. 'Now deliberately contract.'

I found I could do that. And then relax again.

'Now I want you to practice gripping and easing while I finger-fuck you.'

'That's lovely. What are you doing?'

'It's my thumb, actually. And I've found the right, special place to rub you.'

I lay, my face in the pillow, enjoying my new lover's attentions. Suddenly I 
realised I could come like this. Just from the feelings in my arse. My fear was 
going as I relaxed, and I knew I wanted him. I wanted to be possessed by him, 
wholly, completely. I murmured. 'Please, Uncle Scott. Please. I want you to 
fuck me properly.'

He turned me over and kissed me on the mouth. 'Are you sure, sweetie. Not 
scared any more?'

'I want you to do it. But I'm a bit scared. You're so big.' I was holding his 
cock again.

'I'll be gentle. Grease me up.'

I rubbed the oil from the tube into his cock, my fist slipping down the shaft. 

I had expected to kneel for him. That was the way I thought it was done but he 
took my legs and bent me double as I lay on my back. I could feel my arsehole 
exposed to him, and could see his hard cock inches from it. I felt his knob 
placed exactly over my anus, the slight weight of it as he pressed making my 
cock twitch, hard between our two bodies. He let go my leg with his right 
hand, and I felt him grasp his cock. I gasped as the knob entered me, pushed by 
his fist and the weight of his body. I gripped it in a spasm, and it hurt 
momentarily. Then I remembered to relax, and felt the whole length slide in.

You never forget the first time, and often, when some stud slips it into me, I 
recall that first feeling of fullness, of amazement that I could take, and enjoy, 
such a monstrous weapon.

I looked up at his face. He was concentrated, but his blue eyes were smiling. I 
thought how handsome he looked with his broad, hairless chest, strong 
shoulders, and that lovely ash-blonde fuzz of a military haircut. But I had to 
shut my eyes as the pleasure increased. He was fucking me gently, long slow 
sweeps of his cock, his body scarcely touching mine at the end of each thrust.  
I was aware my bum was rising to meet him. He noticed too, I guess, because 
now he was fucking me harder and faster. His body crashed into mine each 
time. There was a drop of sweat on his upper lip, and  a wild look in his eyes. 
He was leaning on his elbows, to save me from his weight. I let my legs drop 
till I was laying flat on the bed. |Somehow he managed to keep it in me, and 
was fucking me now with his full strength. My arms were round him, my 
hands on his bottom, pulling him into me. I could feel the muscles moving 
under my palms with each movement of his hips. Now he was panting and 
moaning. he collapsed on me, his full weight. His cock moved even more 
freely, and I knew he was coming deep inside me, his white cum spurting. This 
thought, the weight of his body as he totally possessed me, and above all the 
excitement of a handsome lover : I realised I was coming, too, my spunk 
spurting between our entwined bodies.

Later we lay on his bed smoking.  I was stroking his six-pack belly, my head 
on his thigh.

'I want to be strong like you.'

'Weight training and six miles a day. Easy!'

'I'm going to start.'

'We can train together. I've got a mini-gym downstairs, and it's better to run 
with a companion.'

                                      ....................................................

That was all a long time ago. Scott was posted back to the USA about eighteen 
months later. He was my first and greatest love, and we still meet once or 
twice a year. His body is as good as it ever was, but his hair is grey now. I 
never had his transvestite friend, not my type as I have explained, but I let her 
suck me at one of his parties. We buried her two years ago, with many 
mourners. Scott came over for the funeral, and the two of us persuaded the 
mortician to dress her in her white bridal dress, white knickers and stockings 
and all, and her blonde wig. That was what she would have liked. I also met 
some of his military friends from the base...they had some quite remarkable 
parties! Scott left me his weights and by the time I was seventeen I looked 
quite like one of Tom of Finland's studs, though I did not wax my body till 
after I finally left school. I was not completely happy with my body image till I 
was shaven. I still prefer to be fucked, and though I look a real stud I never 
take the active role fucking. I am active sucking! I made the first rugby fifteen 
in my final year, and had every other member of it before the end of the 
season!

                                                               FIN
