CHAPTER 2
"When you were standing in the wake of devastation
when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now
you were there and possibly alone.
when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown
with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now
you were there and possibly alone.
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go.
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go.
And in the burst of light that blinded every angel
as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
you felt the gravity of temper grace falling into empty space
no one there to catch you in their arms
as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars
you felt the gravity of temper grace falling into empty space
no one there to catch you in their arms
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go.
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go.
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go,
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go,
let it go
let it go
let it go
let it go
let it go
let it go
let it go
Do you feel cold and lost in desperation
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go."
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known
remember all the sadness and frustration
and let it go, let it go."
…ooOoo….
BEFORE I BEGIN, PLEASE, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS SET IN THE UNITED KINGDOM AND THE AGE OF CONSENT HERE, FOR BOTH HETEROSEXUAL AND HOMOSEXUAL SEX IS 16. BOTH BOYS AND GIRLS USUALLY DABBLE FAR EARLIER SO BEFORE YOU GETS PISSED OFF WITH ME, THIS IS NORMAL BEHAVIOUR IN MY COUNTRY!
PHEW!
….ooOoo…..
PREVIOUSLY
Even odder is the fact that Rosalie has presently been dating Emmett's friend, Tarquin, for the last six months and so he gets to experience - every day - what we'd spent year's perving about.
The most emotionally draining part of my life was, in fact, that after belonging to a loving, caring, adopted family for the weekend, every Sunday evening, I would go back to Eton and live a totally different life altogether…
…..…ooOoo…
From the age of fourteen, even before my Rosalie fixation had developed fully, and hidden from my real life friends, I had brief fumbling flings with both boys and girls, but after I gave myself my first orgasm, I was unstoppable!
The touch of a hand anywhere on my body felt alien and foreign at first, and I pulled back, shocked and repulsed, but the warmth that emitted from their palm soon became addictive and I enjoyed both touching, and being touched, after the first couple of occasions.
And although it did feel very nice, and we all indulged whenever we could, we didn't really do anything very much to one another, except to have the occasional grope of arses and tits over clothes and pressed closed lips together in very puerile attempts at kissing – so in reality, it was what it was – childish and very chaste.
And the sad and pathetic fact was that any physicality of any kind was most welcome, as I'd spent my first fourteen years without being touched in any way shape or form, other than to be pushed away by my father.
But afterwards…
Well, put it this way, afterwards things were VERY different…
Afterwards, I was like a randy Duracell rabbit on acid and would I hump my own hand at any given moment in time.
Within days, and as if by magic, I had dozens of 'friends' who wanted to spend time with me, be with me, listen to me, and talk to me.
Well… 'friends' who wanted to 'talk to me' might just be stretching the euphemism a wee bit… suck my tongue and grope my cock over my trousers, or even wank me off, was nearer the truth in all honesty, but it still meant that I had companionship every day.
Some of the time this was overwhelming because I was so used to my own company and at least twice a week, I would lock myself away in my room, ignoring the incessant knocking on the door by some horny prefect or other, and pretend that I wasn't there.
I remember my first open mouthed kiss. It was with Tim, one of the prefects and we were doing our usual closed lip kissing whilst he pulled and tugged at my cock. I gasped when he touched a particularly sensitive spot and he took this as a sign to shove his tongue into my mouth. When I felt the way that our tongues brushed and stroked against each other, I almost came on the spot.
As I jerked into his hand, he grabbed the sides of my head and kissed me frantically and desperately, before he spat on his hand and wanked my cock hard and fast. We both gasped and laughed hysterically as I splattered his usually pristine uniform with my hot cum as he kissed me again before I returned the favour and made him cum, but I managed to make sure that he soiled his own uniform, rather than mine.
However pathetic it might sound now, I was overwhelmed by the warmth of his touch as our mouths moved against one another, and despite the fact that it felt good, sexually, it felt almost as good just to know just that I was being touched by another person.
The desire to cum, by whatever means, took over my cohesive thoughts and I would happily wank in front of anyone who wanted to watch me do so for visual stimulation, and was more than content to let them join in as well.
Overnight, my cock and balls became my plaything of choice – and everyone else's to be honest, or so it would seem anyway – and I struggled, actually, to focus on anything other than the feeling of ecstasy that washed over me whenever I came.
I'd never found anything but the endorphin rush of sport that could make my hyper-alert brain switch off before. But even that overwhelming gush of adrenalin paled into insignificance when compared to the feeling of total and utter euphoria that washed over me at the point of orgasm.
I was a fifteen year old boy, for fuck sake, with a hard on pretty much twenty four seven, and I would wank so often, not to mention, so hard and fast, that sometimes my cock actually hurt from all the self-inflicted abuse!
This worrying fact made me very aware that spit and lip salve alone weren't enough to aid my hand movements. After asking around, a few of the boys told me that they either spat on their hand repeatedly or used Vaseline.
My preference was the latter, because spit just didn't do it for me. I used so many pots of the fucking stuff over the months, that I had the softest hands and cock in all of Christendom… And put it this way, I spent so much money on the gloopy, translucent shit that I should have used some of my meagre allowance to buy shares in fucking Unilever.
It was nothing for me to masturbate four or five times a day and then again in bed at night, often spraying up the wallpaper as I came, and more often than not, I would rush back to my room after lessons to rub one out before I did my homework and extracurricular activities.
My sleep was frequently disturbed as I would wake up in the middle of the night to tug and yank my permanently hard dick. Grunting, I would cum all over my hand or boxer shorts, before I passed out for another few, hopefully erection-free hours, only to have to repeat the entire process when I woke up with a ram rod straight, rock hard, leaking dick all over again.
Sigh.
As the months passed, my weekends with the Whitlock and Masen clans became more important than ever to me as the bonds of friendship grew ever tighter between the three of us, but I still needed to find some alone time to be at one with ever my ever rigid, throbbing cock.
It became a bit of a chore at times because it was always fucking hard, and usually at the most inopportune moments, too. And on top of this, my craving for Jasper's fragrant cousin became ever greater. I found that I could be quite furtive in my attempts to find time to be alone with the ever more alluring and stimulating Rosalie just so that I could leer at her.
It was all encompassing and I even found myself making plans mid-week as to how to set up scenarios between the two of us.
How pathetic was that?
Looking back, I can't believe how fucking sad I was and how fucking cruel she was with her incessant teasing and tempting.
After watching her fucking Jasper's friend on the swing that night, and seeing her tits properly for the first time away from the beach, my obsession for her became all that I could think about, day and night.
I wanked to that memory every-fucking-time and even I began to worry myself with the depths of my desperation for her.
After trying to be slightly surreptitious in my nosiness about what had indeed happened on her night of passion with Alec, it became apparent that it was indeed a one off event. He was devastated that she didn't want any more with him, and continued to follow her around at every given opportunity. She treated him with complete and utter contempt, and it was only a matter of weeks before Rosalie moved on to her next conquest.
But sadly, that was never me.
Sigh.
She did, however, start to wear even tighter, shorter, smaller and more inappropriate clothing in front of me, and virtually every time that she stayed over at Charlotte and Garrett's house, she would wander passed my open bedroom door in her bra and knickers to the family bathroom, despite the fact that she had an en suite in the guest room.
Bitch.
Her writhing orgasm will be forever burned into my retinas and I can't tell you how many times I've cum over the years by merely remembering the flushed tone of her skin and her panting gasps as her tits bounced frantically as she hung off the ropes of the moving seat and groaned through her release.
Shit.
Jasper and Emmett found this fixation with Rosalie hysterically funny, and took the piss out of me at all times about my ever hard cock. Lucky old Emmett didn't have to deal with this kind of problem himself because he was fucking one of his mother's friends – a woman in her mid-thirties – and so he was alright since his every need was being seen to – and Jasper never seemed to have a problem with dealing with his cock or keeping it under control.
Bastard.
At one point, I had begun to wonder if there was something wrong with me, and of course my fucking insatiable fucking cock! The fact that it was hard all of the time did worry me a bit and made PE lessons somewhat embarrassing at times.
Thank FUCK my school was a boys only establishment and I didn't have to try and hide my massive appendage from girls because, frankly, I could have been arrested for indecent exposure.
It was bad enough that at the mere sight of a cock or naked arse, my treacherous and sodding traitorous prick would raise its head heavenwards.
Can you imagine what it would have been like if there had been the briefest possibility of seeing a pussy or a pair of jiggling tits?
Shit…
That didn't even bear thinking about.
I would have had to have resorted to jerking off in the middle of the classroom and would have been arrested for indecency!
The only shining light in the midst of all of this humiliation was that it's constant hard state certainly got me the attention of the other boys and of some of the PE Master's too, come to that. I became so used to it always threatening to poke out of the elastic waist of my shorts or boxers, that after a few months of attempting to hide my semi-permanent erection behind my outspread hands, I gave up trying and let it all hang out – so to speak!
At weekends, however, visiting Jasper's family became a tricky exercise in attempting to remain at least ostensibly normal. So I took to wearing baggier clothing than ever and managed to convince everyone – apart from the ever piss-taking Jasper and Emmett – obviously – that I was merely following a fashion, rather than the fact that I needed to find a way to hide my prick from people with a sensitive disposition.
Tight boxer shorts and swimming trunks usually managed to keep it bound and trapped during daylight hours, but the second that I yanked them down at the end of the day, and clambered under hot, streaming water, it would burst free and hug itself to my body, and weep all over my stomach like a long lost fucking friend, seeking comfort.
Sigh.
One Sunday morning, however, I had staggered downstairs looking for some orange juice and had inadvertently left my cock completely unfettered – somewhat foolishly as it soon transpired – as I sauntered into the utility room to dispatch my stiffening, cum splattered underwear and pyjamas straight into the machine so that poor Charlotte didn't have to touch them, and gasped at the sight before my weary eyes.
I almost broke a testicle and I skidded to a halt as – lo and behold – there in front of me, once again, was the object of my wet dreams and desperate humping desires. She was leaning over the open washing machine, fumbling about with her backside high in the air. Her legs were straight and her arse looked firm and proudly displayed for my delectation.
Her hair and skin glowed with an almost honeyed, golden sheen as the late morning sun landed on her from the utility room's windows and I almost spazzed in my shorts at the thought of trailing my tongue up and down her hard, yet soft, looking thighs.
Saliva had pooled in my mouth and my heart began to race frantically at the sight in front of me and my fingers twitched desperately.
And my cock?
Fuck…
The way that my cock had shot upwards was so violent that I almost fainted from loss of blood to my extremities as I stared in disbelief at the vision of loveliness before me. My balls burned and tingled and my breath hitched in my throat as my eyes roamed her body and came to rest on the two dimples that sat low down on her back, or high up on her arse, whichever you preferred. The arse one was my favourite…
The speed of my instantaneous erection meant that he almost broke the record for the world's most instantaneous hard on, and I whimpered loudly now, unable to hold back this time, as the rough seam of my pyjama bottoms dragged along the exposed, but still dry, head of my desperate prick.
Fuck.
She was wearing a thing that I now know is called a thong, but at the time I had no fucking idea what it was and why anyone would have a dental floss-like piece of lace wedged between their arse cheeks, but whatever the reason, frankly I didn't give a flying fuck.
Deciding that whoever had designed that particularly fuck hot piece of lingerie was a fucking hero of mine, I licked my lips and fought to contain the groan that threatened to burst out of my mouth. I wanted to trail my fingers and tongue along the aforementioned strip of white fabric and my flexible digits twitched and my mouth watered as I stared at her smooth, unblemished, rounded, creamy flesh.
Her beautiful shiny hair spilled down her back and hung heavily over her shoulders, in luxuriously messy curls and tendrils and I wanted to touch her so badly that I had to dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands to hold myself back from running across the room and grabbing her.
Shit.
Turning slowly to grin at me, Rose's eyes fell instantly to my cock and she licked her lips as she tugged her sorry excuse for a top, down towards her waist so that her tits were more exposed than ever.
Fuck.
This only served to make it look even tighter across her boobs and her dark nipples showed hard and large through the fine cotton, and once more, I groaned as I stared at them – her vast cleavage was truly a thing of beauty and the only thing missing from this scene of delight was the thought that I would like my aforementioned cock to be wedged between them.
Her top was totally ludicrous but was, to me, the most perfect piece of material in the history of mankind in its smallness, tightness and opaqueness! It looked like a narrow bandage that had been stretched across her firm, high, very large breasts, and as I stared at them, her nipples hardened even more before my eyes.
Holy fuck!
Without a word, she sashayed her rounded hips and she brushed past me, turning her body in a complete circle as she did so, ensuring that her abdomen made contact with my now leaking cock as she did so.
Stopping in front of me, she turned fully and pressed her soft, warm, sweet smelling body against my desperate one.
"You know, Edward," she said, as she lightly trailed a fingernail across my rapidly rising chest, "I think that when you actually get a grip on what to do with that enormous thing that refuses to stay hidden in your pants," she continued as she rotated her pelvis against me, "You might just be quite a fucking catch… or at least a fucking good fuck…" she said, staring at my mouth, before she licked her lips and backed away, giggling as she skipped across the kitchen floor. "Let's talk in a couple of years, when you're legal!" she whispered loudly from the doorway, before she disappeared from my line of vision.
I stood for the longest time unable to move as the memory of the way her lovely body felt and smelled as it was pressed against mine. The image of hard nipples and slightly bouncing arse cheeks that were now forever burned into my brain made my cock stream a steady trail of pre-cum as I stared at the doorway, shaking and inhaling heavily.
Unable to control my overwhelming, natural urges, panting in heaving breaths, I dropped to my knees, put one hand down inside my pants, and grabbed my cock so firmly, that I almost stopped the blood supply, and shoved my other hand and head inside the washing machine, frantically rummaging around.
Yanking my hand back out, I pulled several scraps of fabric with it and held them up before my disbelieving eyes. The small, lacy, jewel coloured items were very obviously several more of Rosalie's thongs and I shuddered at the thought of which part of her body they had hugged closely.
Staring at them hungrily, I couldn't make my mind up which one to keep – red, green, orange, black or pink… decisions, decisions!
Whimpering loudly, I hastily threw them all – all that is, apart from a bright red pair – back inside the washing machine, and I stroked my finger along the soiled, miniscule cotton crotch, before I nervously raised it to my face and inhaled deeply.
Holy fuck.
Sweet, musky, rich… but subtle… I didn't know which adjectives to use first to best describe her odour, and frankly I didn't give a fuck because the surge of lust that shot through my body as I smelled Rosalie's unique scent almost finished me off as my head spun through lack of oxygen and my eyes rolled back in my head as I tried to drag in a shaky breath.
My cock was harder than I'd ever known it be before – so hard, actually, that I fucking hurt and my balls ached with need – and I jerked my erection so frantically inside the soft fabric of my pyjama bottoms. Gasping as my arm moved faster and harder, I groaned loudly as I pressed the underwear more firmly against my nose, and as I daringly trailed my quivering tongue along the crotch, I lost my shit immediately and came loudly and dramatically – in shuddering ropes of jizz – inside of my clothing.
My vision blurred as my eyes rolled back in their sockets, and lights exploded before my eyes as I held my breath until the last vestiges of orgasm left my shaking body.
Panting and gasping in much needed air, I dropped back down onto my haunches, keeping my legs widely spread as my cum started to cool all over my shaking legs and I tried to compose myself again.
Sweat was trickling down my neck and back as I gasped and heaved in air and closed my eyes, allowing my head to drop backwards.
Without warning, my attention was snapped back to reality as I suddenly heard voices floating through the open kitchen and utility room windows from somewhere outside in the garden.
My blood froze in my veins as panic over took me and I dropped forwards on my hands and knees and crawled towards one of the windows to see who the hell was out there.
If anyone caught me in this state – flushed, breathless, exhausted and with soaking wet pyjama bottoms, on my knees in a highly inappropriate state – having very obviously just wanked all over their utility room floor – I would be sent away in disgrace, never to be allowed to set foot in their home again after so rudely using their niece as a masturbatory aid.
Raising my eyes above the windowsill, I blinked – horrified – and watched – appalled – as Charlotte and Rosalie sat themselves down at the large wooden table on the patio, and placed a tray on the surface.
Charlotte bustled about, removing all the shit from the tray and placed cutlery, plates, napkins and crap on the table before she propped the tray somewhere below my eye level, as she yakked away to her beloved niece.
After pouring their beverage into bright china mugs, they sat, drinking steaming cups of coffee, in the mid-morning sun whilst Rose buttered hot toast and piled spoonful's of thick, bright, glistening marmalade onto it, as she rolled her shoulders inwards causing her already stunning cleavage to lengthen exponentially.
Fuck it all.
Lifting my head, stupidly, higher so that I could get a better look at her tits, I gasped as I stared at her greedily.
Her tits bulged above the plunging neckline of her cotton top as she leaned forwards further, and, without warning, she turned her eyes to mine and smirked as she slowly and deliberately started to lick the sticky jam off of her middle finger, before she sucked it all the way into her mouth, and pulled it out again, repeatedly, mock fucking her mouth, whilst her aunt poured herself another cup of coffee, totally oblivious to her niece's inappropriate behaviour or my presence.
Fucking bitch!
Since our brief encounter earlier, Rosalie had pulled on a tiny pair of denim shorts that barely covered the cheeks of her arse, and had left the top button undone. Her face was scrubbed clean and was devoid of all make-up and she had on a skin-tight white t-shirt with an almost obscenely low neck. She was still braless and at the sight of those erect nipples, my fucking cock began to raise its throbbing, wet head again.
Not again!
Not here!
And most fucking definitely, not now!
As she winked at me and trailed her bright pink tongue slowly and suggestively along her bottom lip, I instinctively dropped lower and lay completely flat on my belly on the cold floor, thus removing myself from their sight.
The bloody bitch had known all along that I'd been watching her.
The cum on the inside of sleep pants was now icy cold and felt disgusting as I slid across the tiled floor like some sort of fake commando action man, or GI Joe, doll. I stood up, holding onto the door frame for much needed support, gasping in shaking breaths, trying to calm my breathing, before I shoved Rosalie's knickers inside my top and with a cursory backward glance, I ran up the stairs back to my room. I yanked my ruined bottoms off and jumped into the shower, where I fucked my hand two more times before I could get the insatiable bastard to stay quiet for a little while and give me an hours peace.
The scary thing was that I just knew that there was a slithery path from where I had crawled, dragging and trailing my own cum, across the pristine floor – and just prayed to fucking God that it dried before they returned to the kitchen.
Ugh.
This soon became the pattern of my life.
Every time I was anywhere near Rose, I would steal a piece of her used clothing, preferably a bra or a pair of knickers, to use as a masturbatory aid for the week. After wanking on them, in them and over them for five solid days and nights, I would then return the heavily soiled, totally stiff, revolting little item to the laundry basket on a Friday evening, or horribly early on a Saturday morning, before anyone could see what I was up to.
I had a little section underneath the solid bottom of my weekend bag where I hid some of her used underwear every weekend. I used to pat myself on the back for my sneaky ingenuity at never being caught or even suspected in my furtive escapades.
However cunning I was, it soon transpired that I wasn't the only one using Rosalie and her scraps of lace to fuel my night time endeavours…
Oh no, I wasn't alone AT ALL...
…..ooOoo…
One Sunday morning, in late summer when I was fifteen, Rosalie came flying into the kitchen and flung a handful of her almost non-existent underwear onto the table.
She was bare foot with her hair pulled up into a sloppy pony tail, and had no make-up on. We'd all been to a party together the night before and she had disappeared for a few hours with one of Emmett's friends and her neck was covered in love bites as a result.
Sighing, knowing that she'd been freshly fucked the night before, I looked at her surreptitiously from beneath my eyelashes as she hopped up and down in anger.
She looked beautiful, and was wearing skin tight, low rise jeans that showed inches and inches of undulating flesh, and she had a very fitted, long sleeved pink t-shirt on, and as usual, she wasn't wearing a bra.
This was obvious because, as she stood, all but vibrating in rage, her tits jiggled like two firm jellies, complete with hard cherries on the top, beneath the clinging cotton and my cock stood to attention immediately.
Sigh.
I was only wearing khaki coloured cargo shorts and a sand vest top, but at least the shorts were reasonably loose – hopefully loose enough to hide my fucking massive erection …
She was scarlet with rage as she clenched her fists tightly by her sides, and growled at us as her nostrils flared in her building temper.
As she had flown into the room, Emmett, Jasper and I were interrupted in the midst of our discussion. We were sitting at the aforementioned table, having a sandwich and a glass of milk and were laughing at Arsenal's latest risible transfer choices as we listened to his favourite Blur album as it blasted out loudly on the CD player.
Confused, all three of us stopped and stared at her, scowling, but without saying a word, as she let rip. "Just answer me-one-fucking-thing, you bunch of manky little fuckers…" she said, reasonably calmly, before she inhaled deeply and lowered her voice so that we could barely hear her over the loud music, "Exactly WHICH one of you fucking perverted little bastards has been wanking off over my dirty knickers? Huh? Answer me!" she hissed out barely audibly.
She was so angry that she was florid in the face and was visibly shaking in her attempt to stand reasonably still.
Fuck.
My eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I instantly lowered my eyes and started playing with the crumbs that were left over on my white plate with the pad of my index finger.
Fuck.
Caught out...
And for a moment, I really thought that that was it.
Game over.
This would be my last weekend with Jasper after this unforgiveable breach of trust and that I would be cast out into the night… well, not exactly night – because it was a bright, sunny day – but you know what I mean.
"WELL?" she yelled. "TELL ME RIGHT - FUCKING – NOW!" she began barking out, "TELL ME! TELL ME NOW, OR I'M GOING TO TELL MUM, DAD, UNCLE GARRETT AND AUNTIE CHARLOTTE ABOUT YOU BUNCH OF DIRTY, WANKING, FUCKING, COCK SUCKING, LITTLE DEVIANT FUCKERS!" she screeched out, "AND WHEN I'VE TOLD THEM…" she screeched as she turned to look at me with screwed up eyes, "I WILL GO TO MUSWELL HILL AND TELL YOUR OLD BITCH OF AN AUNTIE, EDWARD CULLEN!"
FUCK…
Shit.
Rumbled.
Okay.
Time to man up.
As I looked up, I came eye to nipple with Rose's tits and, highly inappropriately, licked my lips.
Sighing, I blinked rapidly as tears pooled in my eyes.
I never cried – ever – the last time had been when that fucker had burned my blanket but this was a tragedy. The Whitlocks and Masens were all I had in the world and now because of my inability to control my fucking sexual urges, I was going to lose it all.
Sighing, I swallowed thickly before I inhaled deeply and raised my hand slowly into the air, admitting my guilt as I did so.
At exactly the same time, a very odd thing happened.
An unbelievable thing actually…
A thing so bizarre, that it took my breath away for the briefest of moments.
Jasper and Emmett did exactly the same thing as I was doing, and at precisely the same time.
Both of them flushed crimson, looked down and raised their arms heavenwards too!
Holy fuck!
FUCKERS!
They've been wanking over Rose's knickers too?
Oh my God!
Dirty fucking bastards!
How could they be so disrespectful to Rose?
How could they?
But then… wasn't I doing exactly the same thing too?
"Are you kidding me?" she said, sounding stunned as she looked from one to the other and then at me.
Shit.
"All of you?" she said, sounding defeated as she slumped into the chair next to Jasper, "All fucking three of you bastards are rubbing one out on and over my fucking designer knickers?" she gasped as the three of us looked from one to the other in shocked disbelief.
Oh God.
Holy shit…
"I kept accusing Auntie Charlotte of losing my knickers when I stayed over…" Rose whispered out, "She's spent a fortune replacing my missing underwear, and even got the engineer out to check the pipes and filters to see why my pants kept disappearing and then reappearing…" she continued as her eyes snap to mine.
My cheeks burned as if someone had set them on fire as I continued to stare into her periwinkle blue eyes.
But still none of us spoke.
"You fucking horrible little deviants… please tell me that you didn't make yourselves cum as you sniffed the crotch of my dirty knickers?" she finished, grinning at me now and shaking her head, "Or did you suck them?" she asked, chuckling and – as we all turned almost purple with shame – she burst out laughing. "Oh my God! You did, didn't you? Well, I hope I tasted good boys, and that you have a long fucking memory, because you won't be doing it anymore, and you won't ever fucking get to be WITH me, so enjoy what you had because it's all over now!"
Shit.
"Edward Cullen…" she drawled out slowly as she slid her arms across the table in my direction and rested her large tits on the red dotty oil clothed cover, "I just bet that you tasted my knickers, didn't you?" she chuckled as I turned an even deeper red and my temples began to throb painfully.
How the fuck did she know that I had done that?
"Um… I … er… what?" I spit out, nervously.
Luckily for me, Jasper and Emmett aren't paying attention, they are much too busy arguing amongst themselves.
"But… but… but… that's… shit… Jasper… that's…" Emmett stammered, as he turned to look at Jasper, turning Rose's attention his way. "That's … shit… that's … that's… ugh! That's just fucking disgusting, Jazz…" he continued as he looked horrified, "She's related to you! She's your cousin, you dirty pervy fucking little dick! You've been jerking off all over Rosalie's knickers haven't you? You dirty little wanker!" he gasped out.
"Right," Jasper said firmly, folding his arms defensively, as he sat back in his chair, seemingly nonchalant in his response. "So… let's get this straight, Emmett, shall we? Do you honestly think that the fact that you've been jostling off over Rosalie's thong is any better? What if you had got hold of one of my mum's instead? Huh?" he asked, laughing loudly now, "She wears knickers like that too, you know! You could have been sucking the crotch of my mother's knickers, you filthy fucker!" he concluded looking as smug as fuck as he did so, and turned to look at me and waggled his eyebrows.
Oh no…
Surely not?
Surely we hadn't all been masturbating over Charlotte's knickers?
Please GOD!
NOOOOO!
The colour drained from Emmett's face as his brain percolated Jasper's words, and he looked slightly sick as he turned to look at me briefly. Closing his eyes, and without warning, he growled aggressively and leaped across the table at the speed of light, scattering glasses, plates and the fruit bowl as he did so, before he knocked Jasper backwards onto the floor, chair and all.
A bundle of a fight on the tiled floor ensued between the two of them as they slapped, grabbled, kicked and punched one another, cursing and yelling loudly as they did so. Ignoring them both, Rose and I continued to stare at one another, flushed, and her hand snaked out towards mine slightly before we were interrupted once more.
A resounding smash made us jerk apart as Jasper knelt next to Emmett and they were both surrounded by the shattered fruit bowl and the remnants of the last unbroken glass as it toppled off of the table.
Fuck…
Emmett screamed and bayed like an injured animal as he grabbed the front of Jasper's t-shirt and yanked him forwards with one hand, while the other one was already clenched in a waiting fist.
Fuck it!
The fight only stopped when Charlotte came in wondering what all the shouting was about, and she saved Jasper was the impending wrath of Emmett.
She seemed surprisingly laid back about the tussle as she stood, with her glasses pushed up on the top of her head and frowned at them.
I didn't say a word as she yanked them apart, demanding an explanation. They said that they had had a disagreement about Emmett's favourite teams, Chelsea, latest choice in a manager and somehow, Charlotte believed them, and stood with her arms folded until they had picked up everything that they had dropped, or broken, and cleaned it all up.
Sigh.
Luckily for us, Charlotte believed the lie was the only reason for the fight. She handed Jasper and Emmett two cloths and the mop to clean up the rest of the room, and chastised them calmly for making a mess and fighting in the first place. Smiling at Rose and I, she then turned and left the room, and she headed back to her office where she was working on the latest draft of the screen play that she was writing.
Thank fuck.
Breathing deeply, I just sat and looked at my entwined fingers and thanked the Lord that I still had two pairs of Rosalie's unwashed knickers squirreled away in my rooms back at school.
Even then, I was a sneaky, cunning, selfish, and forward thinking, fucker.
For the next year, the vindictive and alluring Ms Masen made our lives a living, fucking hell and punished us at regular intervals for our 'perversions,' as she called them.
She made us go shopping with her and carry her bags, and her friends' too come to that, all the fucking time.
She would parade around in the changing rooms in skimpy clothes and underwear teasing us to the point of distraction. She would lead us, separately, into the cubicles to give our opinion on her possible acquisitions – ever Jasper – and would trail her fingers over her voluptuous body as we watched with open mouths and rock hard cocks, but very sadly, she rarely touched any of us again… but I did touch her… but that's another story.
We were her little cabana boys when she had friends around and had all three of us running around doing her every bidding, fetching, carrying, picking up and so on, whilst they would sit and laugh at us.
Bitches.
Beautiful, sarcastic, spiteful, fucking hot bitches.
And she wasted no opportunity to appear semi-clad in front of me and even rubbed against my quivering, desperate flesh as often as she could, and would frequently spread her legs and bend from the waist when wearing nothing but a pair of fucking knickers within touching distance of me.
I both adored and hated her in equal measure.
Late one night when I was once again wanking off, as quietly as possible to the memory of her latest brush with my cock, my door opened and Rose entered, before she closed it quietly behind her.
She didn't say a word at first and my hand stuttered and slowed in its jerky movements as she stood watching me.
"Don't stop, Edward," she murmured at length, and staring at her, I did as she asked, and started rhythmically tugging my cock once more. "I knew you'd be jerking off after you'd seen me in my bra tonight… you little perv…" she continued, breathlessly.
My Vaseline slicked hand moved harder and faster as I grunted and panted in desperation and I watched Rosalie as she watched me.
She was wearing a skin tight white vest top and a matching thong and her long hair spilled all over her shoulders. Her nipples were large, hard and dark beneath the fine fabric and my eyes roamed her body as my hips started to thrust upwards to meet my clutching hand as my impending orgasm built and built.
Every part of her was pale and glowing as she stood and stared, and it was the most stimulating and arousing thing that I'd ever seen when she pushed one of her hands inside of her small white knickers and began frantically moving her fingers.
That was all it took and I lost it.
The arc of cum that shot out of me as she watched was almost as big as the one in my aunt's house, when I'd wanked off for the first time, and she gasped in surprise when it almost hit her foot.
As I lay, panting, sweating, cum splattered, breathless and gasping, on my bed, she walked towards me and stared at my softening cock in the pale golden orange of the streetlamps that poured in through my open curtains.
"You know, Edward," she said, as she trailed her glistening finger through the fine hair on my upper thigh, "I meant what I said before, one day, I might just have to see if you've learned how to fuck a girl with that thing as well as fuck your hand. That thing is a monster…I've never seen one so fucking big…" she whispered, staring at my suddenly rock hard erection, before she turned around and left my room, closing the door with a soft click as she did so.
She never came into my room again at night, sadly – well, not that I was aware of anyway – but she still teased me mercilessly. Only when she started to board for the final year of her schooling as she prepared to take her final exams before she headed off to university, did she begin to leave us alone – well, some of the time, anyway.
And although she still drove us to the point of distraction with the way that she flashed her body to us on a regular basis, it did become less and less as time went on, unfortunately, and, when she thought I wasn't looking at her, she would sit and stare at me.
Even Jasper noticed.
I think Emmett pretended not to, or perhaps, Emmett, being Emmett, just didn't notice anyway.
Looking back, and knowing what I now know, I think that she would have made one fucking brilliant Dominatrix….
…ooOoo…
In the months before I experienced any of my exciting Rosalie encounters, at the tender age of thirteen, and virtually overnight, I'd shot up to well over six feet tall. I towered over Jasper who had reached five foot nine and seemed to have stopped growing. My muscles developed thanks to my heavy involvement in sports and they showed very obviously as they pushed firmly against my newly sinuous skin, causing me to look angular.
Coarse facial hair in a deep bronze colour, sprouted on my face, neck and cheeks, making my jaw look squarer than ever and made me look somewhat older than my years.
Middle aged women in the street would openly look me up and down, which was a little bit disconcerting at times, especially when that fucking snake that lived in my trousers, began to sniff around, raising his head to the occasion every fucking time.
Sigh.
The same colour hair grew thickly over my balls and around my cock, leaving it looking like a lion's mane, and my eyes somehow got to be an even greener shade of emerald as the hair on my head became more vibrant.
Even I could see that I was looking more and more like the photograph of my mother that I kept beside my bed at all times. The only 'Cullen' traits that I had, were my name and my desire to please myself and win at all things – no matter what the consequences were.
As both fine and coarse hair – the same colour as my beard – was sprouting all over my body, my Adam's apple became prominent, my cock and balls got exponentially bigger and my voice deepened, seemingly overnight.
The thicknessand length of my cock grew to such a level that even I struggled to wrap my own hand around my almost non-stop erection. I spent many a happy hour comparing the size of my dick with the other boys in my class.
We had a chart and used our 30cm rulers to measure them. One of the boys had a sewing kit and we began to use the tape measure from that to measure not only the length, but the girth as well.
It was great fun measuring the differences between their sizes when our dicks were asleep or awake and my erection was much, much bigger than everyone else's.
The first time that one of the other boys had knelt down close to my cock and looked at it intently. He whistled appreciatively as it kept growing and moving up my body, until it came to an eventual stop once it had passed my belly button.
The feeling of his hot breath on the wet head of my cock was unbelievable and I shuddered and whimpered loudly frightening the crap out of him!
One by one, the boys in my class took turns in measuring me – taking far more time than was really necessary, I suspected – though I didn't, of course mind all the extra attention that they lavished on it – and ten inches by six inches seemed to be the normal size it reached when it was erect. Frankly, everyone else's cock seemed to be a far less terrifying six or seven inches by three or four inches.
Mine fascinated everyone, and although PE had always been enjoyable, it was now an epic, porn filled experience and communal showers all of a sudden became fascinating, greatly anticipated time at the end of the school days, and in many ways, it was our very first feeling of the erotic.
The veins on my cock became more pronounced and the skin felt like silk stretched over metal when I had a hard-on. And not only did every other boy in my class want to see it, but I was pretty well obsessed with it myself.
It truly was a thing of beauty.
Warm, yet at the same time oddly, slightly cool.
Smooth but hard.
Firm yet delicate.
Everything in contradiction to one another.
The head was unbelievably sensitive and tender and oh so silky when it was wet, and I took every opportunity that I had to abuse it.
I had already found out that sucking and chewing on someone's tongue was the most wonderful feeling as our hands yanked one another's cocks, especially when we were pressed against the cold, wet tiled walls of the shower block.
It had always stopped miles short of reaching orgasm, but that was before that magical Sunday.
After that special day when I had learned the magic of cumming, well… any hand was fair game!
Everything that I knew, I'd gleaned from books in the library, dirty magazines that the prefects sneaked in, or from school friends. Many times, I'd heard my peers and fellow students talking about the sexual Shangri La called 'cumming' but I'd no fucking idea what it meant other than that stuff would spurt out of the end of their cocks.
I'd never even observed anyone having an orgasm, and I had no one that I could ask any questions of at that point.
That all changed after that fateful Sunday afternoon, and from then on 'cumming' was no longer mythical; it was the fucking Ambrosia of the Gods to me and I wanted to 'feel' that 'feeling' all-of-the-fucking-time.
My balls were constantly swollen and large, almost always heavy with lust, and aching for release. They were soft and tender, and covered in a fine, but course, almost coppery golden fuzz and it felt amazing when I rolled them in my hot hands and to watch several boys either the same age, or a little older, kneeling under the cascading water of the shower as they stared in fascination at my violet coloured head that was poking out from the foreskin, was strangely arousing in itself. The paleness of my skin contrasted beautifully with the bronze hair around the base.
As the months went by, and of course, after my Rosalie induced first orgasm, my constant hard-ons needed to be taken care of more than once a day. So I guess it was lucky that both genders started taking an interest in me from that age onwards.
Students and teachers alike in truth.
And Rosalie's comment that both boys and girls would be missing out if I didn't let them have a piece of me started to resonate more fully, because, although I'd never actively sought it out or thought about it consciously, I wasn't exactly averse to being touched by the hands of another boy.
Far from it.
In fact, I found the forbidden and naughty side of being wanked off by another boy to be strangely appealing.
The first time it happened was, of course, in the shower block when two of the older boys were cooing at the size of my cock. Suddenly, one of them stepped closer and leaned forwards and slowly began to stroke my leaking slit.
The feeling was like I was being electrocuted and virtually as soon as he wrapped his fingers as far around my shaft as he could reach, I sprayed a broad arc of cum all over his face and hair.
Stunned, and slightly horrified, I stood in utter silence waiting for them both to beat the crap out of me, but instead, they grabbed one another excitedly and began to kiss frantically whilst rolling around on the vitreous base as their cocks rubbed against one another.
Standing, stock still and staring, they seemed to have forgotten that I was there as they stroked, groped and rubbed one another to orgasm, frantically tugging on my own cock, as I watched their desperate movements. The second that they arched against each other and came, I followed right along with them, splattering the tiled walls and panted, trying to catch my breath.
It was fucking brilliant to watch them cumming and I was desperate to do it again and again.
Virtually overnight, I found myself with endless offers of extra, private and deeply intense tutoring by both male and female teachers, not to mention the fact that the PE department seemed most willing to work after hours to aid me with my 'physical' activities.
This confused me at first, none of them had ever either offered, or felt the need, to give me help beforehand, and it wasn't until someone told me that many of the older students had sexual relationships with the teaching staff and that the size of my cock was the talk of the entire school's common rooms and staff rooms right at that moment, that the penny dropped.
Great.
I wasn't impressed by the fact that everyone was talking about me, I was, and still am, a very private person. Having been locked inside my own head with no-one else for company or to confide in for so many years, I didn't find trusting people easy, and I was secretly horrified this was happening, and that it might, somehow, get back to the Whitlocks and Masens.
For a few weeks, I cooled my open display of sexual rutting and postulating, until I could no longer control my natural urges. After another weekend of abject torment at the hands, or rather tits, of Rosalie, and decided to say – to hell with it!
Notes would be passed around in virtually every class with boys procuring others for hand jobs and blow jobs, and I was in huge demand with boys of all ages, both younger and older because of my big dick and long, supple fingers. By the end of the day, my homework diary would be peppered with tiny post-it notes with mobile phone numbers, or a time and a place to meet, written on them.
Quite often, I would go along and just watch as others indulged, other times I would get involved too.
Sitting on the grass on a warm evening, holding a spliff, whilst someone had their head between another boys thighs, sucking his cock greedily, was fucking hot.
I always liked the visual stimulation of nights like this, and thank God for my almost photographic memory because even now, almost three years later, I can remember every face, every sound and every smell of those occasions and can pull them up when I need a little something to aid a hand job.
In truth, however much they badgered and pestered me, I never messed around with the younger boys, they were even more inexperienced than me, and I wanted to learn from someone older, not have to teach a fucking kid how to wank me or himself, and I preferred the prefects to anyone else.
They at least had some idea of what they were doing to me.
Some of the staff were completely, and utterly, shamelessly open in their advances towards me. Miss Katz, one of the biology teachers wanted to give me 'one on one Anatomy and Physiology lessons' out of hours. But, calling up an almost Herculean strength and effort, I managed, albeit reluctantly, I have to admit, to keep their advances at bay.
Most of the female staff didn't really appeal to me, they tended to look like Eastern European shot putters or discus throwers that had overdone anabolic steroids, so resisting them was, well… that wasn't a hardship, but some of the male teachers – especially Mr Samuels, one of the PE Masters – was one who's advances that I would have loved to have given in to, and struggled to reject his very obvious interest.
It was all highly inappropriate, of course, because he was a teacher in his late twenties or early thirties, who spent much too long staring at my crotch, or surreptitiously touching me in some way, and whom I did find quite appealing. But I managed to resist because even my testosterone raddled brain couldn't wrap itself around the fact that it would be okay to allow an adult to touch me - yet anyway - but I most definitely did indulge with my fellow students.
They all seemingly loved me and couldn't keep their hands off me.
More than once, I stood on the side lines watching six prefects physically fighting over who was going to kiss me and stroke my cock, and sighing, I just got bored and walked away.
The school seemingly turned a blind eye to the antics of both students and teachers alike, apart from the Chaplain, who more than once castigated the 'sins and perversions of the flesh' in one of our enforced church attendances.
We all just about pissed ourselves laughing when he spouted the whole dictionary and Encyclopaedia Britannica definition of the meaning of self-induced pleasures of the flesh. As he leaned across the richly carved pulpit, he looked around the room before his eyes fixed on mine.
Terrific.
"Masturbation," he explained sagely, "comes from the latin 'manus', which means hand, and 'stuprare' which mean to soil," he said as he glowered at the congregation. "In other words, it means to 'dirty your hands' – and why would you want to do that? Why would you want to pollute your skin?" he asked, lowering his voice as he did so. "So now you see, boys, that it's no wonder that it was condemned as dirty for so many years! The Catholic Church still says, rightly, thatMasturbationis nothing but a perversion," he continued, scowling at us all over the top of his spectacles as we struggled not to laugh loudly. "Your penis is an object for procreation, not of pleasure, it is not to be used to pleasure yourself, or anyone else come to that, and it would do you all well to heed this knowledge. My own children are innocent to the sins of the flesh and know the dire repercussions of not following Gods orders. To touch your own gender is an affront to the Lord because you are spilling your seed on poisoned, forbidden soil, and you need to listen to this warning before you all face the consequences at the end of your DAYS!" he finished, raising his voice angrily as we all ignored him.
Right…
Like any of us would listen to that kind of bollocks or even believe it!
Every time I manhandled a dick until it shot its load, the owner of the aforementioned cock would scream out how wonderful I was, how perfect I was, how much he wanted me - but that was total bullshit - I knew it was.
It was my suddenly massive, and permanently hard, cock, that they wanted, as well as my 'pretty' face, and to be honest, snogging is just snogging and groping is just groping regardless of who it's with – male or female – when the lights are out.
But whoever touched me, whether it was a class mate or a prefect, I always – always – gasped out for Rosalie as I sprayed them, or myself, with my creamy coloured cum.
It didn't seem to matter how many times I came, I never seemed to cum in a smaller amount, and being brought up without parents per se, my father was pretty much absent for my entire childhood - and that was before he died - I didn't have anyone to discuss male bodily functions with, and I wasn't about to ask Jasper or his father, let alone my Muswell Hill Billy of an aunt.
Every day, we took turns with wanking ourselves, or one another, off, and we all indulged fully in this new game. It was nothing heavy or serious you understand, just mutual masturbation with hands on top, or inside of clothing, or watching one another wank to orgasm and lots of loud, wet and very sloppy, open mouthed, French kissing.
The massive size of my cock usually terrified boys of my own age, and it made the girls from the nearby comprehensive more than a bit twitchy too, to be honest, but the older ones of both genders loved it.
And in turn, I loved the feeling of power I got from rubbing another boy's cock with my hand, either through his trousers, and watching him squirm under my insistent ministrations until he came all over the inside of his expensive striped uniform trousers, or when we were all naked in the shower block.
Once more, I had found something that I excelled at. I instinctively and immediately knew how to make someone cum.
The other thing that I really loved doing was to lose control and to spray all over their fingers with my milky coloured fluids, while watching their faces as my seemingly never-ending orgasm splashed them was both hysterically funny and fucking erotic.
We were allowed to go into Windsor regularly as long as we behaved in a gentlemanly type manner, and hordes of girls were always waiting for us outside of the school gates for a quick grope.
After a while, I got more and more curious about girls rather than the boys I interacted with, because of deliciously luscious Rosalie and her fucking deliberate teasing. There seemed to be a never ending supply of them in town waiting for us in our distinctive uniforms, and we were shameless as we groped them and then passed the most willing ones around amongst ourselves.
It would be like a swirling, whirling orgy as we all kissed, groped and prodded one another in the Twilight of early evening, hidden behind some building in the school grounds.
The first time I touched a girl's uncovered pussy, I almost came without her laying a finger on me.
Her body was soft and pliant to the touch, a bit like a feather pillow, and as I grabbed handfuls of her tits, I imagined that it was Rose's breasts that I was pawing.
This girl felt like the total antithesis of how it felt to be touching the body of another boy, because she was yielding and comforting under my probing fingertips, unlike a boys firm, harder physique.
Murmurs of interest reverberated around our frantic groping as I pressed her against a wall, and a group of boys watched our movements intently, several of them dropping down to their knees to watch my twitching cock.
There was VERY little privacy in Eton, or so it would seem.
As Tracy pushed her ample body against mine, she wiggled her big knickers down enthusiastically as my hands yanked and tugged at her blouse, pulling it out from inside of the waistband of her skirt. We kissed passionately, making loud, wet, slurping sounds as our mouths remained wide open and our teeth bumped against one another's.
I didn't have a fucking clue what I was doing, so eventually, after spending an inordinate amount of time groping her tits over her school blouse, she grabbed my hands, and pushed them downwards as she opened her podgy thighs to me.
The first thing I noticed was the soft, silky hair that seemed to part beneath my probing finger tips to allow me entrance to a hot, slick, wet, tight tunnel. As I pushed and pulled one finger in and out of her wetness, her muscles gripped me tightly and she whimpered.
Gasping, I pulled back and watched as my finger came out covered in a glossy, syrupy sheen and she whined loudly as I shoved it all the way back in.
The heat inside of her made me shudder and my cock was leaking so much pre-cum, it looked as if I'd sprung a leak as it drizzled all over my pin-striped trousers.
I hadn't the faintest idea what I was meant to do next so I just kept doing whatever felt good, and the sloppy, squelching sounds that emanated from her crotch as I moved my hand faster and faster were fucking brilliant.
"Add another finger…" she panted, "I'm not a fucking… virgin, stick two… fingers …two… fingers… into… my pussy…" she stammered and as I did as I was told, she groaned and thrust against my invading fingers even harder.
Allowing instinct to take over once more, I thrust a third finger inside of her and started to move my arm faster and harder. She seemed to like it and she mumbled and groaned into my mouth as she pressed the palm of her hand against mine, almost hurting me as she rubbed against me, coating my fingers with her juices.
Neither of us came during my pathetic fingering attempt, of course, I doubt I was even capable of making a girl orgasm just yet, but when she ripped open her blouse and yanked her bra-cup down, I whimpered as I stared at her tightly puckered flesh.
I swallowed thickly as she grinned at me before pulling my head down and letting me suck on one of her hard nipples. The feeling of that new and unique type of flesh in my mouth was all it took; closing my eyes, I imagined that I had Rosalie's dark pink nipple against my tongue and lips, and as I opened my mouth wider and suckled at her rounded ripeness, I shuddered and lost my shit after the third suck and spurted my hot cum all over her brand new, shiny pink shoes.
That royally pissed her off.
Yelping loudly in disgust, she dragged my fingers out of her pussy, yanked her knickers up and stomped back to the gates, cussing and swearing about me being a 'useless fucking posh twat,' and doing the buttons on her blouse up as she went.
Oh well, at least I got to cum, and right then it seemed irrelevant to me whether the other person came or not.
My, how times have changed…
Looking down at my hand, I was amazed to see that my fingers were wet and shiny, almost as if they'd been dipped in sunflower oil, and as I rubbed my index finger against my thumb, I loved how slippery and slick they felt.
Shrugging, I pulled my hand up to my nose and took a perfunctory sniff while the other boys gasped loudly at my bravery.
"Does she smell like tuna fish, Cullen?" Toby, one of my classmates asked, sounding horrified, "Torquil fingered her last week and said she smelled like a can of fish!" he said, loudly.
Looking at him, I shook my head because it was completely odourless.
There was nothing.
It smelt of absolutely nothing, surprisingly, and tentatively, I stuck my tongue out and took a quick lick.
Huh.
The other boys bellowed and yelled at me that I was either "fucking brave" or "fucking mental," as I sucked the tip of my middle finger into my mouth firmly before I quickly wiped my hand on my waistcoat.
She didn't taste of much to be honest, and the flavour most certainly didn't drive me wild with desire, but the mere fact that I was doing what I was doing, and was tasting a girl's pussy juice, was enough to make my fucking cock start to twitch again.
Oh well.
In for a penny and in for a pound, so I sucked my entire finger into my mouth to see what all the fuss about 'going down on a girl' was all about as the other boys hissed in shock as I did it and my cock shot up to bounce off of my stomach once more.
Tim was more than happy to take care of my predicament for me without my even having to ask him, thank God, and as he stroked me firmly, I grabbed his hair, pulling his body closer to mine and imagined that Rosalie was on her knees in front of me, tugging my cock, and it was the taste of her that coated my tongue and lips.
Shrugging again at the impressed mutterings and murmurings of the boys around me, I did my trousers up and ran my fingers through my no doubt insane hair, and walked off thinking to myself that I had no idea what the other boys were moaning about, "She tasted okay," I said, as I turned and walked away, but it was okay to be honest, "Thanks Tim," I yelled as I kept on looking forwards and went back to my room.
And I for one, would be quite happy to drink from the furry cup, when the time was right, because if that was what a girl's pre-cum tasted like, it tasted a lot fucking better than mine did!
Some of my friends raved about it, others bemoaned the fact the female of the species smelt, and tasted, like raw fish.
Okay.
Well that was bollocks for a start, yes, there was a slight flavour of 'something' there, I didn't know what, but it wasn't anything unpleasant. When I returned to my room, I spent ages sniffing and tasting my fingers as I tried to memorise her scent and flavour.
Also present was the tang and whiff of the cheap generic soap that was in every bathroom, toilet and shower stall in the school and in every state school and pub. Nothing else, nothing horrible and most certainly no essence of fucking mackerel!
Over the next few weeks, I continue ambling along and I did my usual things – I worked hard and I played equally as hard.
School was school, and hand jobs were hand jobs.
But nothing really 'stood out' anymore, one hand job or wank seemed to blend into the next and I was rapidly becoming jaded as far as sexual experiences were concerned at fifteen years of fucking age.
The only bright spot was occasionally catching two boys indulging in oral sex, I loved watching that, it was soooo fucking hot, and I always wanked frantically after those sightings.
The teachers tended to leave us alone in the showers now, obviously aware of what we were up to, and there was always at least one boy on his knees sucking another off and they were usually more than happy to let all and sundry watch them.
On one occasion when I was coming back from town in the late afternoon, I was stunned to see one boy was being buggered from behind by another, much taller, older boy. Sadly, I was too far away to see anything clearly, but the way that they both moaned loudly as the older boy moved slowly, stirred something deep inside me. They were bent over an old tree stump near the rugby pitches and I stood, semi-hidden behind a Hawthorn tree in a nearby field, as I watched them and wanked off in time to their thrusting. It didn't fucking help that they knew I was there and stared at me as they continued fucking as the older boy grabbed the hair of the other boy and used it to propel himself backwards and forwards, I came before they did and gasped and panted as I'd coated the poor bark in a creamy film as I continued to watch them.
All of a sudden, the taller boy pulled his cock out and sprayed his cum all over the younger boys back before he dipped his head down and started to lick him clean.
I was so stunned and overwhelmed by this sight that I'd never seen, or even thought about before, that I'd had to run into the sports hall to hide amongst the gym equipment and have a quick jostle to ease the overwhelming urge to join them.
Huh.
After that, every day rolled into another, and I rarely caught anyone indulging in anything but mutual, manual masturbation, and I rapidly began to tire of hand jobs.
There was one day that brought me out of my routine and it was the day that I had my school medical.
That was a particularly memorable event for me, standing out for oh so very many reasons…
That was the day that I truly learned that sex made the world go round utterly and completely - probably more so than money and privilege, and that I had power that I hadn't been aware of. I learned that if you could control a situation physically, you could take another person's power, however old, and however clever, the other individual appeared to be.
We were going on a school cricket tour to India and had to be checked over medically for our travel insurance policies, as well as being injected against every parasite and disease known to man-kind.
I had pretty much dedicated most of my free time to playing rugby and cricket, as well as swimming and rowing, even being chosen to play at county level in all four sports. It meant that I could no longer spend every weekend with the Whitlocks, or to sadly indulge in my favourite hobby of Rosalie watching.
It also meant that, because of the conflicting groups of muscles that multiple sports used, my body was not only long and slender but sculpted with well-defined muscles and tendons, angular and lean.
I was well aware that this new physique appealed to others.
And wandering around wearing low slung jeans and shorts meant that the defined muscles from my belly button to my crotch were on display, and I used my improved body to its full effect and to my benefit…
As rugby and cricket were played at different times of the year, it gave me time to become competitive in rowing and swimming and this gave me broad shoulders and strong arms, with a narrow waist and hips.
Despite the fact that I had just turned fifteen, I wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassed when the male doctor and female nurse told me to strip from the waist down.
By this point in time, I'd already been intimate with dozens of boys and lots of girls and was used to showing my cock and balls, pretty much to anyone who asked to see them.
The medics just about fainted on the spot when I dropped my trousers and pants without blinking the second that they told me to. My eager, immediately rock-hard cock all but ripped its way out of its confinement and waved to them, pushing my foreskin down, as it mistakenly thought that it was hand job time once more.
As ever, the thought of warm hands touching me, meant one thing and one thing only.
Instant erection.
Smirking, I stared intently at the poor, fumbling, middle-aged doctor as he cupped my large balls and told me to cough.
His fingers were hot and clammy, even through the thin latex, as they shook and I fought the urge to laugh at his reaction, because arrogant as it might sound now, I already knew what my body did to people and I loved to play on it.
It made me feel important to someone…
Though, of course, in reality, the highly logical side of my brain knew that they only wanted to fuck me, not love me.
"What do you mean, Doctor?" I'd asked, sounding as innocent as I could and looking down into his eyes, batting my eyelashes as I did so and flexing my thighs at the same time, making his eyes flick from my groin to my legs and back again several times, "Why do you want me to cough?"
It was the same way that I looked at my sculling coach when he cock-watched me, and he got a hard on every-single-fucking-time. His hard on always made me cum more quickly strangely enough...
The doctor was so close to me at this point that my cock almost smacked him in the face as his breath washed over my erection and wet head. He squeaked loudly as pre-cum flooded the slit, and I almost laughed out loud.
Forgetting where he was and what he was doing, his hand moved repeatedly and stroked my balls gently, but highly inappropriately, before he jumped to his feet, flushed and sweating, remembering what he was doing, who he was and what he was doing to an underage school boy.
Muttering to himself, he walked away from me quickly, and sat behind his desk, ostensibly to fill in some paperwork.
Up until this point, the nurse hadn't moved, she just stood stock still and stared in abject disbelief at my large cock.
I guess that you don't see a ten inch by six inch cock on a fifteen year old boy every day, do you?
Okay then, time to give her a show too and as I moved, my prick waved around in front of her, making her squeak out loud.
I could hear the doctor breathing in rasping breaths from across the room as he tried to avert his eyes from my erection, and I wasn't having that! So, grinning, I turned around, bent from the waist, parted my muscular thighs, grabbed my boxer shorts and slowly pulled my pants back up, the way I did when I wanted to tease the PE Master to the point of delirium.
The doctor had to immediately excuse himself as his eyes fell on my parted cheeks.
Oh well, and another adult, unable to resist my body, bit the dust!
…ooOoo…..
Just three months before my sixteenth birthday, I was given my first blow job by an eighteen year old boy.
After watching countless couplings over the previous eighteen months, I at last felt ready to try it. Up until that point, a frantic hand job by anyone willing to yank my cock was enough, but as I said, that had lost its magic and I needed to try something new.
I didn't know what at first. I had thought about finding Tracy and fucking her in front of my classmates, but after watching a line of prefects being blown by younger boys, their heads frantically bobbing up and down over a collection of cocks of all different shapes, sizes and colours, and seeing the looks of euphoria on their faces, I decided that I wanted to give it a go.
I spent a couple of weeks looking around, and choosing who I wanted my first time to be with – even then I was methodical in my decisions and the entire event was planned with military style precision – putting my idea into action.
The fact was, I was reasonably sure that I wasn't gay by this point, and didn't want some pretty, prissy little boy sucking me off for the first time. I wanted someone who looked masculine and whom I was attracted to.
And that person was Douglas.
Douglas.
Douglas didn't look like he was into boys.
But he was.
He really didn't look as if he was gay, or even bisexual, but he'd followed me around, trying, and failing miserably, to be surreptitious, like a love sick puppy for months and I was ready to try something different and new, so I singled him out for the honour of popping my oral cherry.
Like me, Douglas was clever and sporty and in great demand with the other boys, and according to school gossip, with some of the teachers too.
Ostensibly, I always looked confident and arrogant, as if I had no self-doubt whatsoever, but the fact is that I was always a desperate little boy seeking approval and love from someone – any one.
That never came, and I was always left feeling used, unwanted and uninspired.
I was always able to find someone willing to give me a hand job, but there was rarely anyone around who was willing to spend time with me to just talk, laugh or listen to music, like Jasper.
Jasper and I still spoke every day on the telephone but I never discussed my sexual antics with him. He had never shown any interest in either gender – but instead he spent all of his time fiddling about with his guitar and writing music so added to that and his school work, there wasn't much time for anything else.
Though, strangely enough, I ALWAYS found time to indulge…
On one, sticky, hot summer night, after drinking too much cheap cider in a pub on the outskirts of Windsor and turning down the advances of a much older woman, I returned to the school premises feeling bored and decided to just fucking go for it.
Having hummed and dithered about whether to go ahead and act on my plan – or not – on my way back to school, I finally plucked up the courage to act on an idea that had been percolating in my head for days.
The sun was just lowering and the early evening crickets were chirruping in the grass as I got into position, hiding myself from prying eyes, as I waited behind the swimming block.
Sitting in the grass, I smoked a joint that I'd bought in town to relax my rapidly building nerves, and waited.
And waited.
And waited some more…
Time passed slowly and just as I sprawled out, yawing loudly, about to give up for the day, I heard the squeak of a bikes wheel and sat up in the grass to see who it was.
Douglas.
Douglas was cycling languidly back along the tarmac covered road.
Smiling, I stood up and called him over, "Douglas!" I barked. As he turned to look at me, his mountain bike wobbled as he peddled towards me, frowning.
Tall, muscular and blond, he was impressively big, not quite as tall as me, but a rugby player no less, almost as good as me, and on the team three years above me, and deeply tanned, thanks to the already unseasonably hot weather.
He was fucking good looking.
Even to me, who, despite my fumbles with the same gender, pretty much knew that I was straight and that this form of sex was merely a means to an end, he was fucking hot.
I'd asked around to see who he was fucking, but no one seemed to know, other than they thought that it was either another prefect or one of the master's.
All this had done was to crystallise the fact in my mind that he would be experienced and so he was the one that I wanted to suck my cock first.
As he walked towards me frowning, pushing his bike, I called out again, "Douglas! Hurry up! Quick! Over here! Quick! Don't let anyone see you!"
"What do you want, Edward?" he asked, scowling again as he got closer, looking nervously around him. "You should be in the refectory for supper. What are you doing out here?" he said, "What do you want?"
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes briefly before I smiled at him and continued. "You," I said, and, as I licked my lips, he stumbled slightly making me smile at his instant lack of composure.
"What the fuck do you want, Cullen?" he asked again, his voice rising in surprise.
"What do you think that I want, Doug?" I asked as he reached me, "I want YOU…" I finished as I slid down into the warm, fragrant grass in front of him.
He propped his bike against the wall and stood just in front of my wide-spread, denim clad legs and bare feet, staring at me in amazement as I lay back on my elbows, grinning up at him.
"I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, Cullen," he started, "But I'm not frigging well biting. Stand up and get back into fucking school before I put you on report. I am a fucking prefect remember, you little oik!" he said with his clipped angry sounding voice.
As he started to walk away, I answered him, "I'm sorry." I said gently and watched as he stumbled at the soft tone of my voice, "I only wanted to kiss you, Douglas, that's all."
When he turned to look at me, stunned, his mouth popped open in surprise, and I grinned up at him and winked.
"What the fuck do you mean?" he gasped out, starting to walk backwards away from me.
Without giving him a chance to get further away, I leaped to my feet, grabbed his shoulders, and latched my mouth onto his lips, shoving my tongue forcibly into his mouth, before sliding my hand down, and firmly stroked my long fingers along his cock over his trousers.
Before I'd even touched him, I just knew that he would already be hard.
And guess what?
He WAS.
"Fucking hell, Edward!" he gasped, pulling back from me slightly, "What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me! I don't want to fucking kiss you! You're too young! You're not sixteen yet! What the hell are you doing to me? I'm not gay!" he panted, struggling half-heartedly in my grappling arms as I leaned forwards and peppered his cheeks with tender kisses, "I'm not fucking gay…" he groaned.
"Of course you aren't…" I said, kissing along his jaw. "Neither am I… but I want you…" I whispered, before clamping my mouth back onto his, and as he opened his mouth to protest, I sucked on his tongue firmly, grabbing the cheek of his arse with one hand and the back of his neck with the other one, pulling him closer to me, and kissing him more desperately.
The blood and adrenaline surged around my body and I shuddered violently at his taste as my superior strength and power overwhelmed him.
I loved kissing, I always had - boys or girls - I wasn't fussy really - but this was something else, and the animalistic way that I had to hang on to him to hold him close to stop him fighting his way out of my hold, just cranked my excitement up to an entirely new level.
"Fuck…Edward… that's just… just… fuck… I've wanted… you… for so… so… fucking long…" he groaned loudly as I pressed my crotch forwards and rubbed our jean covered cocks together for the first time and kissed him more deeply.
Mumbling, he stopped fighting me, and instead, ran his hands up the back of my t-shirt, sliding his blunt nails firmly up and down my bare, sun-kissed skin, making me vibrate with need as I thrust and rubbed against his erection.
This was really very different – this wasn't a little fumbling grope behind the bike sheds, this was something else entirely.
The kissing became fevered and deeply erotic as we both fought for dominance and supremacy, grabbing and pulling at our respective shoulders and clothing, as well as sucking, chewing, biting and lapping at one another's mouths almost painfully as our bodies ground together repeatedly.
I'd never been kissed like this before.
Ever.
And as he sucked my tongue firmly, I thrust against him desperately, whimpering and quivering in desperation.
At this rate, I was going to cum in my jeans before he'd even touched me and I deliberately pulled my pelvis backwards before I embarrassed myself by cumming too soon.
Eventually, Douglas pulled back and stared at me, panting heavily.
For the longest moment, we looked at one another, silent and unmoving.
His face was pink, damp and flushed, with ruddy, red, high spots on his cheeks. His eyes were bright, moist and alive and his blonde curls were damp and messy thanks to my tugging and grabbing hands.
"Edward," he asked simply, as he stared into my eyes, his chest heaving as he dug his fingers into my biceps, "are you sure you want this? This isn't just kissing you know… we can stop now… but if we carry on for much longer… I don't trust myself to be able to stop. I want you SO fucking badly, but I need to know something and you have to say it out loud. Are you sure?"
I nodded enthusiastically, "Fucking yes! I'm sure! I'm sooooo fucking sure! Douglas! I want you! I want this!" I gasped out, "I came looking for you, remember? I've wanted you for weeks…" I said, truthfully. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have kissed you like that!" I finished.
Staring at me, he blinked slowly.
"Do you know how long I've dreamed of touching you? How long I've wondered what it would be like to kiss you?" he stared as his eyes roamed my body, "To taste you? To stroke your cock? To fuck you? Shit…" he said as he looked at my bulging crotch.
"Fuck…" I muttered as I tried to yank him closer once more. "Stop fucking talking, and fucking kiss me…" I growled as I licked my lips.
"Patience, patience, pretty boy," he said, smiling, "I want to have your cock in my mouth, Edward," he said quietly, licking his lips in turn, as he looked repeatedly from my mouth to my eyes and back again, "Can I? Can I suck your cock until you cum in my mouth?" Is that what you want me to do to you?" he asked.
Nodding enthusiastically, "God, yes!" I gasped out, "Do it! Do it, Douglas," I said, "Just fucking do it!" I ordered loudly.
"Please. Please let me suck you off," he whimpered as I finally pulled our bodies flush again and firmly licked up and down his neck in the same way that I liked to have done to me. "I want you to cum in my mouth…and swallow what you give me…" he finished quietly, pulling back to look at me and blinking slowly.
"Fucking hell…" I whimpered out as his fingers stroked up and down the fine hair on my arms.
Smiling, he continued, "Tell me that I can suck your cock and balls, Edward," he rasped, staring at my mouth again.
Nodding, I answered with a quivering voice, "Suck my cock, Douglas. I really want to cum in your mouth."
Smiling, he nodded and I watched, entranced, as he immediately dropped to his knees and slowly rubbed his hands up and down my erection several times, his long, thick fingers digging into the thick denim, making me hiss out in surprise, before he undid the buttons on my jeans quickly and yanked them down around my ankles.
As he stared at my crotch, my cock twitched excitedly.
"Fucking hell…" he muttered, more to himself than to me as he trailed his finger along my erection, before pulling my pants down.
By the time that my cock was finally free, Douglas was visibly shaking as my angry looking, and pre-cum leaking, cock sprang into view.
The feeling to being exposed to the warm evening air was amazing and I whimpered in anticipation.
"Oh, my God, Edward!" he exclaimed, staring up at me as he cupped my balls with his fingers, "Your cock is fucking massive…amazing…Jesus…I've never seen anything like it…it's beautiful… beautiful…" he said, almost wistfully, licking his lips and stroking one finger around the corona several times. "I've heard tales about your big dick but I didn't believe those other fuckers… I thought they were lying… no wonder Riley wants a piece of your arse…" he said quietly.
Good to know even if I didn't have a fucking clue who Riley was.
"Douglas…" I whined as I thrust forwards, "Suck my cock…"
"Fuck…so fucking long… and so fucking thick… big… God…so fucking big…" he murmured, more to himself than to me, as he devoured me with his eyes and trailed the tip of his index finger along my head before dipping it into my slit.
Sitting back on his heels, he sucked his finger into his mouth and the visual of him tasting my pre-cum was enough to make my cock swell even further and to make my balls begin to tingle.
His large, calloused, rugby players hands were surprisingly gentle as they ran over my hypersensitive cock for the first time, making me jerk and gasp, open-mouthed, like a beached fish. As his touch became slightly stronger, I let out a shaky breath as he pushed my foreskin back fully, exposing my deep violet, very wet head, and blew warm air over my entire cock.
"Holy fuck!" I hissed in shock.
I was surprised at the unbelievable feelings that were galloping around my crotch as he used his hands fully to stroke me now, smearing my pre-cum up and down my swollen shaft, lubricating my skin for his touch, before he leaned forward and licked my slit for the first time.
Touching myself had never felt like this before, and none of the others who had helped me masturbate had made my cock feel like this.
Shit.
Gasping as his rough tongue licked repeatedly over and around my swollen, leaking head, I jerked in surprise, grunting as the tingly, electrical current erupted from my balls and shot around my oversensitive body like miniscule bolts of lightning. I hadn't expected his tongue to feel anything but soft, warm and wet, but the roughness was unbelievably delicious as he laved it over and around and up and down.
Not gay, huh?
Fuck me.
Well if that was true, he was certainly giving a fucking good impression of knowing how to suck a cock if he wasn't.
But then, how many cocks had I wanked and watched being wanked over the last, eighteen months, and I wasn't gay either, was I?
Or was I?
Right now, I didn't know or care.
The feeling was so intense and overwhelming, that I didn't know what to do at first. The choice was to either run away, frightened of the reactions that this act was dragging out of me and risk losing the feeling of power and control that I loved to have over these boys, or to give in and cum in his mouth immediately as he tenderly lapped and sucked at the head of my cock.
Without giving me any warning, he sucked my head all the way into his mouth at last, trailing one hand down and groping my balls at the same time.
The shriek that erupted from my throat via my drooping open mouth was strangled and garbled as he sucked hard, fast and enthusiastically, "More! Douglas! MORE!" I barked.
The euphoric feeling was so over powering, that lust took over. I grabbed hold of his hair in both of my hands, using it as leverage, and frantically and selfishly, fucked his mouth hard and erratically as he groaned, whimpered and hummed appreciatively at my desperation.
Three thrusts later, I yanked his head closer as I shoved my cock all the way down his throat and came, flooding his mouth with my usual copious amounts of jizz, while battling desperately not to scream the sky down and thus to alert others to what we were doing.
The endorphin rush was so mind-numbingly amazing, that my brain and body seemed to detach from both one another and all reality.
As spurt after spurt shot out of my body, I shook so violently that I struggled to stand upright.
Lights, stars, angels on clouds playing harps, hearts, birdsong, music, melodic chanting and blue birds exploded – all the romantic bollocks that the sonnets spout – and flew around my frazzled brain rendering me totally unable to form a coherent thought let alone an understandable word.
Finally, the last vestige of orgasm left my body, but still I didn't let go of his hair; instead using my firm grip to balance myself, and even when he spluttered and tried to fight me off of him so that he could breathe, I hung on regardless.
Coughing and choking, he shoved my upper thighs painfully hard as he jerked backward, falling on the grass looking stunned and scarlet in the face. He gasped loudly, trying to catch his breath as tears, snot and cum ran down his face, out of his nose and mouth, and he fell backwards onto the grass.
Shit.
The look of total capitulation on his face made me feel empowered and my cock twitched as I watched his fight to breathe.
"Jesus!" he gasped at me, as he flopped back fully, landing on his back. Panting, he pulled his top up and swiped his sweat stained t-shirt over his face in a futile attempt to clean himself up, "Fucking hell, Edward! Do you always cum like that?" he wheezed out, "Do you always cum that amount? FUCK! Edward!" he panted, "You almost fucking drowned me in spunk!"
"I've never had a blowjob before," I said, shrugging, as I leaned back against the swimming block wall in an attempt to calm myself, get my breath back and not fall over.
"You've never had…?" he asked, breathlessly and sounding shocked, "You've never…shit…you've never?" he stammered, staring at me, his eyes suddenly wide, and as I shook my head slightly, he continued, frantically looking all around us, "How old the fuck are you, Edward? I thought that you were almost sixteen? I'm not going to get arrested for giving head to a minor am I?" he asked, looking absolutely terrified.
Shaking my head, I smiled at him, "Fuck off! I'm nearly sixteen, and I haven't had a blowjob before because I couldn't be arsed, and wasn't interested," I said nonchalantly, "Having a mutual wank, or getting a quick hand job, seemed a lot easier to be honest, and I know that my cock isn't exactly small so most of the others wouldn't want to do it to me, I suppose…" I said, slowly.
"Shit…well, I suppose that's okay. Fuck…" he panted.
"Was it alright?" I asked, suddenly nervous that there might be something that I wasn't good at.
"Shit…that was…was…fuck…amazing…I really wanted to do it…I've wanted to do that for a long time…you have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you…you're everything I imagined you'd be… you taste fucking fantastic…" Douglas said, staring at me and licking his lips as his eyes dropped south again, before they snapped back to mine and a look of concern flashed across his handsome face. "Well? Did you like it? Did you? Do you regret it?" he asked warily.
"Put it this way," I grinned, standing upright, feeling almost back to normal once again, "I might not have had one before, but I fucking want another one! That was fucking brilliant!" I said excitedly, and he looked stunned as almost immediately, my cock rose before his eyes, "I've never felt anything like that, Douglas! That was bloody brilliant! Do it again, Douglas!" I said, enthusiastically, "Let me fuck your mouth again!"
"Jesus Christ. Again? Already?" he said looking astonished, as my cock was once more rigid and pulsing. "Fuck… are you sure you want me to suck you off again? Wouldn't you rather that I fucked your arse instead? Do you want me to fuck you, Edward?" he asked, trailing one fingernail along my groin, making me hiss at the feeling, "Do you? Do you want my cock in your arse? I've done it before…I know how to make you feel good… so good…" he continued as he dug his nail in harder, "Spit will work as a lube…I'll be gentle with you…he's always been gentle with me…my first time was good…I'll make yours good too…" he divulged, staring at my cock again and licking his lips in anticipation.
Did I?
No.
No, not like that.
Shaking my head, "No, not yet," I replied, "I'm not ready for that. Not yet. I don't know if I want to do that. I don't know if I would ever want to do that…" I say as my mind whirled with this new possibility, "But I do know that I want you to suck my cock again," I finished, selfishly as I grabbed my rock hard erection and began to stroke myself in front of him, pulling my foreskin up and over my swollen head repeatedly, making myself groan as I did so.
"Shit…don't do that…I want to do it…" he murmured, clambering up onto his knees again, grabbing my hips, he yanked me forward and buried his face in my groin, sucking my balls, and almost making me lose my shit instantly.
The second time he took his time, and I lasted much longer. He went slowly and I took my time to savour every stroke, lap, touch, lick and suck that Douglas's mouth desperately lavished on my cock and balls.
As he finally opened up and took me inside, I almost came on the spot at the unbelievably wonderful, hot, suction-like feeling of his soft, wet mouth as he firmly suckled the head of my throbbing cock.
Pulling back, he licked his lips and grinned up at me, "Fuck you taste good, Edward… so fucking goooood…" he murmured before he dove back in and sucked me firmly into his mouth.
Dragging his tongue long my cock firmly, he then swirled it around my head and poked it into my cum-filled slit. Groaning at the unbelievably delicious feelings that his rough muscle heaped on my hyper-sensitive head and shaft, I shuddered and instinctively began thrusting slowly in between his willing lips and smiled, gasping slightly at the overwhelming feeling of the wet, warm, tight, silky tunnel that was engulfing my cock; I opened my eyes and looked down as I held onto his hair once more.
Watching my cock as it slid in and out of his widely stretched mouth was the singularly hottest thing that I'd ever seen and I jerked as another surge of desire and passion overtook my body while adrenaline surged through my veins.
As I gently stroked and twisted my fingers into Douglas' hair, he whimpered. I was amazed at the euphoric expression on his face as his tongue stroked up and down my thick veins, making me shudder.
He really liked doing this to me and that knowledge was as much of a turn on as the act itself, and as he looked up at me, his eyes were soft and smiling as his hand began to stroke my balls.
"You…you …fuck… like this…" I panted, "Don't… shit… don't you?" I said, stunned and as he looked up at me and smiled, I gasped out.
Wow.
When, at last, I came for the second time, he moaned, held me tightly by the backs of my legs and drank down everything I gave him hungrily, and as my cock twitched and jerked inside his accommodating mouth he moved his hands and dug his fingers into my buttocks. Staring at me intently, he pulled my cheeks apart and firmly pressed one finger against my opening in small, pulsing movements.
"FUCK!" I yelled as I continued shooting rope after rope of hot, salty cum down his throat.
The unbelievably delicious pressure of his fingers made an extra surge of electricity rattle around my hormone raddled nerves and I jerked at the intensity of it all, shoving my cock all the way down the back of his throat as I did so.
As I came down from my hormone induced high, I watched intently as he sat back on his heels and smiled.
Licking his lips of the residue of my cum, he hummed and smiled once more, and I wanted to know why he enjoyed it so much, so I decided that I wanted to reciprocate.
"I liked that…" I said simply, "I really fucking liked that..." I said again, shaking my head as I tried to come to terms with what I'd just felt and experienced.
It was like a fucking religious experience and even though I'd cum twice in about twenty minutes, my cock was already twitching at the memory of his amazing mouth and it was almost hard again.
As he looked at me and smiled at my flushed, sweaty, quivering body, I decided to seize the opportunity, and although I'd absolutely no idea what I was doing, I crouched down in front of him. My jeans and pants were still around my ankles, legs widely spread as my cock rose even more, hardening instantly to press against my abdomen once again. My t-shirt was darker now that it was stained around the neck, armpits and down the centre with my sweat.
"Do you want to fuck me, baby?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief as they fell on my third erection, "You can fuck me…Edward…I've been fucked in the arse… a lot…" he pants out, "He loves… he loves to fuck my arse… please… please…fuck my arse…I loved being fucked…please…I need it…I need you…please…" he whimpered.
Shaking my head, I tugged his hair to make him look at me, as I began stroking his face, and he rested his cheek in my palm.
Leaning forwards, I smiled at him, and then, without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him gently on his lips, tasting my own cum in the process.
It didn't taste great, but it didn't taste too awful either, and sucking his bottom lip into my swollen mouth, I moaned.
Taking his hand, I pulled him to his feet and wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling, as I ground my groin against his once again. "Shit, that's fucking hot!" I said excitedly, "I can taste myself on your mouth!"
"Fuck me, Edward!" he gasped out, grabbing my arms firmly. "Please! I'll show you what to do… please…" he pleaded.
"No, I don't want to fuck you," I said, "But I do want to suck your cock," grinning as he gasped loudly and his mouth popped open, "Cum in my mouth, Douglas," I finished.
To be honest, I'd never considered fucking a guy, and I wouldn't have a sodding clue what to do anyway, but I suddenly realised that I wasn't actually averse to the idea either and my ever enthusiastic dick did a happy dance against my belly.
Maybe I was gay after all?
Maybe?
I don't know about that but right now, any holes a goal so it would seem.
Shit…
How would Jasper deal with that?
How would the great Cullen dynasty cope with the fact that its heir apparent was possibly gay?
Would they cope?
Did I care whether it would affect them or not?
By this point in today's proceedings, I was beyond caring whether people would understand or not.
Douglas was sweating and, as I pressed my lips to his, he opened his mouth to me and we kissed gently, yet passionately whilst I lowered my hands and, grabbing the damp hem, I yanked his t-shirt over his head.
Standing up, and stepping back briefly, I looked him up and down and smiled as I pulled him to his feet once more, "Stand up for me, Douglas," I said huskily.
Fuck, I'd chosen well for my first real sexual experience, and moving closer once more, I crashed my lips to his, tongue fucking his mouth as I dropped my hands and began unbuttoning his jeans before slowly kissing my way down his body.
Swirling my tongue around the light fuzz that circled his navel, I knelt down on bare knees on the warm, soft closely cropped grass and let instinct take over. As I grabbed his hips, I began to mock fuck him by jabbing my tongue in and out of his belly button repeatedly, making him groan and thrust slightly against me.
Sitting back on my heels, I trailed my fingertips lightly up and down his highly muscular torso and watched, transfixed, as his six-pack quivered and contracted at my gentle touch.
He almost glowed in the mellow, setting sunlight and he looked absolutely delicious as the long stretching shadows spread out before us.
Reaching up, I stroked across his pale pink nipples, amazed to see them pucker as I grazed across them. I smiled as I began trailing my fingers through the fine curls that smattered his chest and ran in a spasmodic line down the centre of his body.
Slipping my fingers into the waistband of his now soaking wet boxers, I inhaled deeply trying to dissipate my nerves.
Could I do this?
Wanking someone off was one thing, taking them in my mouth and sucking them until they came was something else again and I wavered slightly as I swallowed hard as my eyes shot upwards to his.
He was quivering in anticipation and began to frantically lick his bottom lip repeatedly, "Fuck… Edward…" he whispered as his fingers stroked through my hair, "Suck my cock…" he asked, "Please… I don't have to cum in your mouth if you would rather that I didn't…"
Staring at him again, I breathed deeply and grabbed hold of the elastic around his waist, closed my eyes, and pulled them down quickly.
"No…" I murmured, "No… I want to do this… I need to do this…" I finish, girding my own loins to what I had to do next.
Lowering my eyes, I looked at his erection for the first time.
His cock was pale and smooth with a rosy head and glistened because of his leaking pre-cum, and as I leaned forward and ran my nose along his throbbing erection, he inhaled sharply as I looked up at him through my eyelashes and smiled.
Instinct had indeed taken over completely; I just seemed to know exactly what to do even though I'd only seen a couple of boys indulging in it a few times from a distance.
"Fuck…you are so pretty, Edward..." he whispered, stroking my hair tenderly, "So pretty… pretty, pretty, baby…" he cooed sweetly. "Suck my cock, pretty boy. Suck my cock… beautiful… beautiful… Edward…" he said, his voice gravelly and shaking in anticipation to what was about to happen.
Pretty?
Beautiful?
Huh.
Not exactly a manly statement was it?
Oh well.
Stroking the tip of my finger around the head of his cock, I looked at it properly and smiled as I saw that it quivered with anticipation for what I would do to it next.
His cock was much smaller than mine - thank fuck - with a soft, fine, closely cropped golden-blonde fuzz trailing around its base, and covering his balls.
"Why is your hair so short?" I asked, sounding pathetically inexperienced and childish.
"What?" he gasped out.
"Why is the hair around your cock so short?" I asked again.
"He likes… likes… likes… it… like …that…" he panted out, "Fuck… fuck that now…" he begged. "Don't … don't… worry about that… suck my cock… PLEASE!" he barked.
The head was now an angry, red colour - dark red in fact - and as I slowly traced the visible veins with my finger, I licked my index finger to taste his arousal.
It wasn't too bad to be honest, and I trailed my tongue the entire length before I plucked up the courage to lick his fluid filled slit for the first time.
Humming as I did so, he whimpered loudly, before he started to shake like a leaf before I dipped my head further and blew warm air onto his distended balls. Swiping my tongue in quick sweep over his entire corona he jerked towards me and his cock began to all but sob with the amount of pre-cum that was seeping out of him.
"Oh, fuck…" he said, his brain registering my brief touch, while grabbing my hair tightly in his grasping fingers. He thrust hard against my face as I trailed my right hand up and around his balls, fluttering my fingers gently and he moaned deeply.
Pulling back I grinned at him, "Am I doing it right, Douglas?" I asked as I held his upper thigh with one hand and shoved his legs apart with the other, before I licked my lips, slowly and deliberately, and bit down on my bottom lip, "Is this okay?" I said, grinning.
"You . are . a . fucking . cock . tease, Cullen …" he hissed out, between gritted teeth, enunciating every syllable, precisely, as I stroked my fingers gently along the soft, pulsating skin that ran between his balls and arsehole – of course I now know that this was his perineum, but at the time, it was all unchartered territory for me.
"Have… you… don't… stop… Have… you… don't… this before, Cullen?" he asked, panting, "Because you're doing… shit… fucking… fucking brilliantly…" he finished, gasping out between words.
Although I may have come across as an expert, of course, at the time, I had no idea what I was doing or what I was meant to do either.
After licking his slit again, and screwing my eyes up, I swallowed quickly. I was fucking relieved that he didn't taste horrendous when taken directly from the source either, and then, closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and sucked the slick head of his circumcised cock into my mouth for the first time.
Swirling my tongue around the ridge just below the head, I stroked and tugged his balls gently the same way as he'd done to me previously. In response to this, he shivered and whispered expletives above me.
I liked the way that his cock felt inside of my mouth. It felt smooth and silky, almost like a warm, wet, pulsatingly throbbing plum, and I'd been surprised to find that I was getting fucking excited all over again at the thought and feeling that I was sucking a cock in between my swollen lips.
Pulling back, I stared up at him, without blinking, stuck my tongue out and trailed the flattened muscles up the entire length of him, causing him to whimper loudly, he jerked forwards, gasping in surprise as I repeated my move repeatedly.
Running his fingers through my hair, he began jerking his hips against my mouth as I ran my tongue around his frenulum, and I grabbed his arse cheeks and yanked him closer, thus shoving his pulsating cock further into my hungry mouth as I pulled my cheeks in and sucked firmly.
Rapidly moving my head backwards and forwards, I built up quite a nice, smooth rhythm as he grunted, whimpered, moaned and thrust in time to my movements.
This time, I dug both my hands into his hard cheeks and hung on as he thrust frantically in time with my desperately sucking mouth.
"Pretty…pretty…mouth…" he gasped as his movements became more and more erratic, and his breathing sounded agonised, "Fucking hot, tight mouth…" he groaned loudly.
As the head of his cock bumped the back of my throat, he grabbed my hair in painful handfuls, tugging me closer to him. I gagged just as he came, holding me rigidly in place as he did so.
Salty, milky, watery, oddly musky flavoured liquid flooded my mouth. I let some of it run out of my open lips and trickle onto my chest, but swallowed about half of it down.
Ugh.
That was most certainly not strawberry milk shake flavoured liquid, it tasted more like heavily salted, warm, pureed oysters and it took me all my time not to heave as it continued to pour into my mouth!
Those fucking girls in the local pub had lied to all of us about spunk tasting like strawberry yoghurt - the lying fucking cows.
The taste was more like salty, sticky wallpaper paste, and although I didn't spit it all out, I really had to swallow rapidly to stop my gag reflex from sending the gush that had hit my stomach, it all the way back up.
It was definitely going to have to become an acquired taste…
Turning my attention back to Doug, I was thrilled to watch as his eyes rolled back in his head as he held my hair tightly, "Edward!" he'd gasped, "Oh… oh… oh… God… Edward… you …you… amazing… I … I love you!" he hissed out as he twitched and jerked against my rapidly moving tongue.
He loved me?
What a load of fucking shit.
He loved my mouth, my tongue, my cock, my 'pretty' face…
Not my heart.
From then on, the thought that love and sex were intertwined was totally disconnected from my psyche.
One was silly and emotional.
The other was a physical need, a requirement, just like breathing.
"You're so perfect, Edward," he whimpered as I trailed my fingers down his upper thighs, "That was amazing…so…fuck…" he said as his cock began to twitch once more.
Standing up, I smiled at him sweetly and batted my eyelashes, before I yanked my jeans and boxer shorts back up and turned around, buttoning the stiff denim up quickly. Smiling at him again, I swung my shoes over my shoulder by their laces, and I walked away without a second glance, whistling and smirking at the effect that I'd just had on him.
He called out from behind me, "Where the hell are you going, Edward? Edward? Where are you going? Don't leave me! Please! Come back, Edward! Edward! Come back! That was the best blow job I've ever fucking had! EDWARD! We need to talk about this! What happens next? When can I see you again? I won't share you with anyone else! I want you to be with me… not with anyone else… D!"
Steeling myself, I inhaled deeply and I resolutely ignored him as I just kept right on walking over the sprawling, perfectly clipped lawns, heading back towards the school's main building, smiling brightly to myself with my chest swelling with pride as his words sank in.
Best blow job ever?
Wow!
Too hyped to eat, let alone talk to anyone, I took myself to my room, ate an apple and did my homework as I tried to calm myself down once again.
The emotions and physical memory of what had just happened to me at the hands of the talented boy – and, what I had, in turn, just done to Douglas – was so overwhelming, that I couldn't sleep that night.
Reliving the entire experience again and again and again in my mind meant that my poor cock never softened. It was worse than it had ever been before and it felt excruciatingly, painfully, hard. And although my hand and the ubiquitous dollop of sticky Vaseline couldn't compare to the feeling of his tongue and the soft, hot, wet suction of his mouth, it was good enough to make me cum repeatedly.
I masturbated so many times that my bedding was ruined and my poor, overly abused cock was rubbed almost raw and was only allowed to rest when I passed out, exhausted.
When I woke up the next morning, I was so tired that I could hardly muster up the energy to clamber out of my bed, the dried, rock hard sheet was stuck to my left arse cheek, and I almost skinned myself alive ripping it off me!
After that night, giving blow jobs to other boys never bothered me.
It was something that I indulged in at every available opportunity to be honest, because the feeling of being able to make them lose control was completely intoxicating - especially the prefects and older boys.
And if I gave… they had to reciprocate.
I even got used to the taste of their spunk and quickly learned to love the various nuances and flavours that the different boys produced. And in all honesty, I really quite enjoyed the way that the hot, sea-like, piquant tasting sticky spurts coated my tongue, to the point that I always happily swallowed and never spat. I was in huge demand because I'd become quite an expert at giving head.
Staring up into their eyes, as they thrust rapidly, and erratically, between my pursed lips, always made them stroke my hair, groan and cum much more quickly.
It became so fucking predictable the way that they all gasped, panted and grunted out the same bollocks about my "pretty face" and how "beautiful" I was, as they poured their hot jizz into my willing mouth.
Everyone single one of them was amazed at the way I could swallow everything they gave me with great enthusiasm and verve.
Some evenings, when I finished my homework and studying, there would be three or four boys waiting for me outside of my room, and I had the art of sucking one cock and wanking two others down to a fine art within two weeks of my first blowjob with Douglas.
And they say that the male of the species can't multitask…
It made me laugh at how pathetic some of the other boy's attempts were when they tried to handle my big cock in their hands, let alone their mouths; the way they tried to lick it – not always even able to get the head in their mouths - and on more occasions than not, I would sigh loudly, jerk my cock away from them and wank myself to orgasm. If they'd failed to at least try to reciprocate with their mouths, I would cum all over their faces and never go near them again.
Selfish fuckers.
I tired of new encounters quickly - the thrill of the chase was much more exciting to me than the actual catching - but because I had become something of an enigma amongst the other boys with my oral and manual abilities, I didn't have to chase very hard.
It had started to lose its 'shiny new toy' status in my mind and was becoming a little bit tarnished, and after having scarcely thought about the glorious Rosalie for several weeks, my mind began to long and yearn for her teasing touch again.
Douglas regularly followed me around, and after I had ignored him for a few days, he would lose control, grab me and pin me against some wall or other - when I let him that is - and after almost shredding my lips with his desperate kissing, he would suck my always willing cock greedily, begging and pleading for me to let him fuck me - but I always declined – having decided after all that anal sex was a step much too far for me – but now and then, I did, however, let him push a finger up inside of me.
He had very kindly purchased a bottle of lube from a cheap sex shop in Windsor to make this intrusion more comfortable, because spit just didn't do it for me, to be honest, and I'd punched him really hard in the quadriceps, thus giving him a dead leg, the last time he'd tried to penetrate me without lube.
The bruise that he'd had on his upper thigh lasted for weeks and he was a bit shocked at my strength.
It felt fucking amazing when I had relaxed enough, and once he had his finger all the way inside my tight muscles – and once my stupid, misunderstanding arsehole had stopped clenching and fighting to shove it back out again. The first time he hit my prostate with the briefest touch of his index finger, I came embarrassingly quickly, shooting geysers of jizz so fast that he choked as it shot downwards and conversely, went up his nasal passages, painfully.
My pride was a little bit dented because by this point, I was becoming more controlling and liked to see how long I could last rather than be the first to cum. I wasn't used to having that bit of control removed from me, so I made him fuck me with his finger and his mouth immediately again - even before my cock had completely regained its hardness.
He was amazed at my imagination and erectile abilities, because within minutes of orgasming, I was always up and ready and raring to go again. I liked to be charge most of the time, and luckily for me, he always did as I told him to.
I loved the fact that he obeyed me without question, so I guess that even back then, I didn't behave like a 'normal' boy.
From then on, he was more besotted by me than ever, and wanted us to be 'an item' as well as for me to be 'exclusive' to him, and not to allow anyone else near me or my cock – even though he was seeing someone older than himself for regular sessions of anal sex.
The fact that I was totally okay with him seeing this man, upset him quite a lot, and he said that as soon as we started to fuck properly, that he would dump him for me.
I didn't care either way to be honest.
But he did, and he used to go absolutely insane if he found me with someone else. He spent an inordinate amount of time having physical fights with other boys trying to keep them away from me – I just laughed at him, kissed him lightly on the lips, and walked away as I did my trousers up, leaving whoever had just sucked me off to the mercy of the growling, jealous ministrations of Douglas, satisfied for the briefest of moments.
After all, I wasn't gay and didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone – well… maybe with Rosalie in my wildest dreams – but least of all with another boy…
And consequently, as a result of his almost overbearing devotion, I only occasionally gave him another blowjob. That level of adoration was a little bit off-putting and quite a turn off to be honest. I gave him hand jobs more often, though, because however irritating he was, he still gave the best head I'd ever had and he could easily cope with my size, but blowjobs? I hardly ever sucked him off again. I rarely wanted to. I loved the feeling of him being desperate for me and the way it felt to keep him hanging and would go down on him when he least expected it.
That thought would make me chuckle cruelly, and more than once, the stinging slap of the realisation that I might just be turning into my father would pull me up, for a couple of days any way, before I slipped back into my descent into becoming a fucker just like him.
Funnily enough, the more detached and cold that I became towards Douglas - and all the other boys - the greater in demand I became.
The more arrogant and non-committal I was, the more they followed me around. I could take my pick of any boy. Although I always came by the bucket load when Douglas or any of the other boys sucked my cock to orgasm, there was no emotional connection. They didn't get me hot and bothered in the way that I somehow expected them too.
Certainly not in the way that my first encounter behind the pool house with Douglas had, in fact.
And certainly not the way my brief touches from Rosalie had made me.
Oh, I got hard, of course I did; I was a fucking horny teenage boy wasn't I?
One smile and I had a hard-on, and I always came like a fucking geyser, but I still felt that there was something missing…
I'd even started to take serious risks trying to crank up the excitement of it all again by having others blow me in more and more public places.
Of course, it never worked. Somehow, we were rarely spotted and even if we were, we were fucking ignored, so after a while, I got bored of giving blow jobs, to be honest.
Sigh.
Even more importantly, I got tired of the way that any of the boys involved couldn't let it go once we'd been intimate in any way, shape or form. Why they couldn't accept a wank or a blowjob as just having an itch scratched and leave it at that amazed me.
Why they had to try and make it into something more than it really was bewildered me completely.
I had taken to hiding from the giggling, drooling gaggles of my conquests because they'd started to either squabble about who I belonged to, or would blab about me and my massive dick to anyone who was willing to listen.
It pissed me off, frankly, because I didn't want to be the talk of the school because of the size of my cock.
They always wanted us to be in some sort of relationship and I, of course, most definitely fucking well didn't.
Eventually, I stopped giving head; I simply refused to do it to my adoring fan club of boys anymore.
Even though I had quite enjoyed doing it, and missed the intimacy of being nuzzled in someone's groin to be honest, I just couldn't be arsed with the constant romantic fallout.
I think, if I had been totally honest with myself, that however much fun I was having, I still yearned after the luscious Rosalie and the fact was, that when many of my conquests were sucking my cock, or sodding well chewing on it as many did, when I closed my eyes, I would see her pillowy lips wrapped around my erection, rather than some spotty, short haired pubescent boy.
Sigh.
Receiving blowjobs, on the other hand…well…that was something else. I never fucking tired of getting them, and I was becoming quite an aficionado…to the point where I kept a little notebook with scores out of ten…
Nasty, I know, but I found it endlessly entertaining to compare techniques. Only those who scored an eight, or higher out of ten, for effort, enthusiasm and ability ever got near my cock again.
Some of the girls from the town were unbelievably bad at performing oral sex, and as shocking as it sounds, the boys were much better at sucking cock than they were.
They obviously did what I'd originally done - gone with their instincts. They concentrated on doing to me what they would want done to them, so they couldn't really fail, could they?
And I'm not ashamed to say that on more than one occasion, when I was getting head from one of these boys and was on the verge of orgasming inside their talented mouths, I would yell out Rosalie's name loudly into the ether.
Occasionally I went for the female option in a bid to make my Rose fantasy even more realistic.
It was always a mistake to be honest, because they were always under the illusion that they were good at oral sex, when in fact they were SHIT.
One of those poor misguided girls, Denise, grabbed my cock in her sweaty, little palm, and rubbed my poor dick so hard, and for so long with her small, burning hot hand, that I had to stop her. Shoving her away forcibly, I'd spent the next hour with a bag of frozen peas on top of my boxer-short clad groin, trying to soothe the raw, hot skin. It didn't help that she frantically chewed on a piece of gum, smacking her lips, the entire time that I tried to kiss her either.
Stupidly, and highly unusual for me too, I decided to give her another chance several weeks later, and that time she enthusiastically slurped and chomped her way up and down my rapidly dwindling erection like a wide mouthed frog trying to swallow and digest a big, fat fly.
That was very disconcerting and a tad humiliating because it was the first time ever that I didn't cum during oral sex and lost an erection.
Douglas, on the other hand, always scored a mind-blowing - and cock-blowing too, come to that - eleven out of ten, for all three of my favourite activities. That was giving head, receiving head and giving the best fucking hand job in town. He could make me cum faster and harder than anyone else could, probably due to the fact that he loved to deep throat me and fuck me with his finger at the same time. None of the other little oiks could do that and I sure as fuck wasn't going to teach them.
Thankfully, I didn't need to look for anyone else, after he left school, as he continued to visit me regularly, even long after he had left Eton to go to Oxford University, to study Philosophy.
He said that I was addictive, like a drug, and that he couldn't stay away, and that he couldn't get enough of me, however badly I treated him.
Every weekend that I wasn't at the Whitlock's, he stayed in a small pub in town. I stayed with him when the mood took me, which was quite often.
He said that I was like his own personal brand of heroin and that he couldn't get enough of me.
How fucking cool was that?
I loved that fucking analogy and we carried on spending 'time' together until I was almost eighteen.
Now and then, I would travel to Oxford and spend the day with him. We would hole up in his digs and spend the entirety of a Saturday or Sunday engaging in oral and manual sex.
My favourite thing was when both of us lay on his double bed, on our sides, and buried our faces in one another's crotches, sucking each other off whilst we stroked and probed whatever we could touch and reach.
Sixty-nining with the very handsome Douglas was fucking erotic and on a couple of occasions we came simultaneously. It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing I had ever experienced. We would wrap our arms around one another's lower back, and cup distended balls or finger the others arse's as we sucked and licked frantically, seeking, needing, release.
So, interspersed with a burgeoning amount of school work, my obsession with receiving both hand jobs and blow jobs never really dissipated.
And then, on most Friday evening's, when I left Eton for the weekend, it was as if a shutter came down, and I left that side of my life behind me too, like my tail coat and ridiculous collared shirt, because it wasn't something that I would have ever discussed with anyone outside of school.
EVER.
…ooOoo….
Four weeks after my first blow job with Douglas, and dozens of others from a whole array of other less illustrious mere mortals, I was walking alone, as usual, along the corridor towards the Chapel to deliver something, when I heard a high pitched, tinkling laugh.
Peering around an open door, I came face to face with the prettiest girl, next to Rose, that I had ever seen.
She was small, curvy, well… bigger than curvy to be honest. Plump or rounded I guess you would call her – and pretty – very pretty – with shoulder length, fluffy, wavy red hair. It was the most unusual shade of red, and was really dark - almost blood red in fact and my cock twitched as I looked her up and down.
Shit.
She had on a red dress with white spots that was skin-tight across her large tits, and she had a big, full skirt that stopped at her knees. There was a very tight belt around her waist that made her breasts look even larger and I couldn't take my eyes off of her soft, undulating, milky white flesh.
Wow.
My cock jerked and twitched against my school trousers as I looked her up and down again, feeling something that I hadn't felt for anyone – even Douglas – apart from Rose – real desire.
Her skin was so pale that she almost glowed and she was dotted all over with minute little, pale honey coloured freckles, and her lips were full and a deep tawny pink with an almost lavender tinge.
I decided there and then that she was a natural red-head, despite the obviously fake colour of her hair, because only they have that type of colouring.
As I stared at her large lipped, pouty mouth, watching as she poked her tongue out to moisten her lips, I just knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would give an amazing blow job.
"Hello," she said, smiling, before she twisted her mouth into an angle and snapped, "Who the fuck are you? This is area is off limits to students, so what are you doing here? And while we're at it, fucker, why are you staring at me and my tits like I'm a piece of meat for you to fucking well eat, dickhead? What the fuck do you want? Why are you here? These are the Chaplain's private quarters, you prick, or can't you read?" she said, aggressively.
My cock jerked in excitement as she stalked towards me.
"Oh!" I said, somewhat taken aback by her blunt, crude and fucking straightforward manner. "I'm looking for the Chaplain," I explained, "I have a message for him from Mr Samuels," I continued, looking her up and down even more openly now. "The PE Master," I finished.
"Well, I'm Jacinta," she said, ogling me in exactly the same way that I was looking at her, "I'm his daughter," she continued, walking around me now. "The Chaplain's daughter I mean, and I can take the message to him, I'm off to see him in the Chapel now. He's busy at the moment, and can't be disturbed because he's preparing for Evensong," she finished, grinning at me.
Fuck.
My cock felt like it'd grown hands was trying to tear its way out of the zip in my trousers, and I bit down on my bottom lip hard.
Two dimples dappled her softly rounded cheeks as she smiled at me, and as my balls tingled, I fought to hold back a groan as she squared her shoulders, making her cleavage look all the more pronounced and delicious. Licking my lips, I began to think what it would feel like to trail my tongue along her voluptuous flesh as she coughed, and I raised my eyes up to hers once more. "And believe you me, I know exactly who Mr Samuel is…" she said, chuckling.
"Okay," I said, shrugging, and handed the letter to her, "Whatever," as I stared at her, stunned.
THIS was the Chaplains daughter?
THIS scarlet, painted, naughty looking harlot was the "innocent looking little blossom" of a daughter that the Chaplain had had the fucking gall to fucking well lecture us about?
Was he serious?
Shit…
As I turned to walk away, shaking my head in stunned disbelief, she followed me to the door, and grabbed my elbow, "Hey, kid, by the way," she said, "What's your name?" she asked.
Turning back, I stopped and stared at her big boobs unabashed, before I looked down into her pretty face, winked and smiled at her broadly, "I'm Edward," I said. "Edward Cullen."
"Well, Edward Cullen," she said, thrusting her tits upwards towards my leering eyes, "it's very, very good to meet you." Her eyes dropped to my erection and she smiled happily, "I've heard a lot about you, you're the talk of the school you know? You and that massive thing that you're struggling with in your trousers at this very moment!" she laughed, "You really look exactly how he described you…" she mused, "Very lovely… very lovely…" she continued as she continued to stare at my cock, "And I hope I get to see a lot more of you – much more in fact – in the very near future," she finished, dragging her eyes back to mine. "A whole lot more…"
Fuck.
….ooOoo…..
For the next four days, I was shoulder deep in books as I prepared for my end of term exams, and thought of nothing else but books. Unbelievably, I didn't even wank as I dedicated my every waking moment to making sure that I finished the year at the top of every class yet again. Once more, my competitive nature took over and the thought of coming second in any of my chosen subjects was NOT an option.
And although I would've been much happier to have been balls deep in Douglas's mouth, I was a diligent and well-behaved boy for a very long four weeks while I studied and wrote my exams, because frankly, I just didn't have the time to be anything else.
All thoughts of 'Jacinta' were wiped from my head as I, instead, threw myself into being able to conjugate verbs in every fucking language known to man, fannied about with a Bunsen burner, mastered complex mathematical puzzles, dissected a frog better than anyone else in the room, waxed lyrical with Messrs Shakespeare, Faulkes and Chaucer, and practised, and executed perfectly, the musical pieces of my choice on both the piano and my acoustic guitar.
Strangely enough, I also found that the less time I touched myself, or was touched by others, or even thought about sex, the less erections that I had to contend with.
I still had the ubiquitous morning wood, but I found that a cool shower and going through the Periodic Table, backwards, whilst standing under the water, soon took care of my throbbing cock.
Within three weeks, a mere week after my sixteenth birthday, all studying and exams were over, for the time being, and freedom once again prevailed.
My erections came back with a vengeance and I was like a boy possessed as I ran amock around the grounds of Eton, seeking out any willing mouths and hands available to me.
And of course, there were plenty of those.
Douglas and I had been at one another like rabbits for the last few days, to the point of absolute exhaustion. After meeting me in town, we had gone to his room above the pub and he'd fucked my arse with two fingers for the first time the night before as he sucked my cock all the way down the back of his throat. This had made me cum so hard that I'd seen stars, and when I reciprocated at fucking his arse with my hand, I was stunned at how hot, tight and dry his arse had been and how tightly the muscular ring inside of him had clamped down on my finger when he shot his cum down my throat. He didn't want me to use lube on him because he preferred 'dry fucking' – his words, not mine – and I was worried that I would hurt him. He said he liked the friction more, so I did as he asked. His prostate felt like a little, wizened walnut as I rubbed it in abject fascination and he'd whimpered like a wounded animal when I increased both my speed and pressure.
He wanted to do it again the following night, but I'd declined. I was still very much a loner and needed some space to clear my head after the intensity of this new activity.
Blow jobs were one thing but last night had crystallised something in my mind. Anal sex was definitely on the cards with Douglas, either giving, receiving – or even both – and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that.
I'd always been adamant that I wasn't gay, but now I felt a burgeoning possibility of that statement being shit.
Oh, I still found the bodies of girls to be far more attractive than those of boys, in all honesty, but like it or not, I had to face the fact that I might just be bisexual after all, and I needed time alone to think about the ramifications that this might have on my future.
I still loved the hardness of a man's body as it pressed against mine, and one of my favourite activities was allowing my erection to slide along Douglas' and letting the friction make up both cum.
You couldn't do that with a girl, could you?
Having decided, at the ripe old age of fourteen, that the law was the way that I wanted to go after listening to Emmett talking about the fact that this was his chosen career, I'd thrown myself into perfecting every subject with my usual military-style single-minded precision to ensure that the top two universities in the land, Oxford and Cambridge, would both offer me places in which to study.
We talked it over between us, in Jasper's tree house, of course, and decided that if we both were called to the Bar, we would set up a law firm together, specialising in Criminal law. I had the money and the contacts via my family name to be able to do, and be, anything that I fucking wanted to be and if Emmett and I could do this together, why the fuck not?
Basically, for the last two years, I'd worked my arse off ensuring that I managed to achieve my goal.
How would being bisexual, or even possibly gay, impinge on that?
The law was, and is, still a very old-fashioned, closed shop where who you are often counts for more than what you know, and being openly gay is still frowned on. There are, of course, many gay lawyers, but they usually are forced to remain far more discreet than their heterosexual cohorts.
My head throbbed at I spent the next two days thinking about nothing but this and I really couldn't handle being with the loved-up Dougie that evening.
He was in love with me, I knew he was – fuck, he told me often enough – although I also knew that he was regularly fucked in the arse by an older man because it wasn't something that I was ready to try yet, and it was something that he needed – and fond of him as I was, as a sort of friend with benefits, I didn't feel any love for him at all, and I was struggling with how to deal with his emotional demands on me physically and mentally.
Finding the swimming pool block empty after lights out on that Thursday night, I decided to swim myself into an exhausted heap so that I could sleep without allowing the inner ramblings of my conscience and the physical throbbing of my cock, keeping me awake.
After grabbing a towel from my room, I left my quarters and sneaked quietly down across the closely clipped, manicured, elegant sprawling lawns, dodging the advances of three of the older boys who were smoking and touching one another underneath a tree – all ex-conquests who still wanted more. As I did so, and let myself in to the darkened, echoing, cavernous space, deeply lost in thought, knowing that whatever I decided to do, Douglas was going to be hurt by me because deep down I knew that I simply couldn't continue our physical encounters any longer.
I wasn't sure that I wanted any more school encounters either to be honest, I felt jaded and tired of all the petty squabbling and needed something more, I just didn't know what that 'more' was – yet.
My senses were immediately assaulted by the stinging, eye-watering odour of chlorine as I pushed through the swing doors, and, as I'd kicked off my shoes, and begun stripping off my shorts and t-shirt in the humid air, a low moaning from the changing rooms sparked my curiosity.
Many an enjoyable hand job, and blowjob too, come to that, had happened in between the racks of damp towels and slightly smelly bags in that room, and, chuckling, I silently sneaked through the double swing doors in the hope of catching a couple of 'not gay' prefect pretty boys, in flagrante delicto.
Maybe one would be buggering the other so that I could watch this act close up for the first time.
That wasn't what I saw.
Oh no, it wasn't…
But what I did see on this night, however, stopped me dead in my tracks and I would never be, or feel the same – ever again.
…..ooOoo….
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