Petty Officer Pettifer

PETTY OFFICER PETTIFER

An Erotic Short Story

by 

Jason Land

This is the first of a group of three related stories: 

Petty Officer Pettifer
Pettifer – The Gay Disciplinarian
Kevin Pettifer – The Warden 

These are all stand alone stories but are best if read in the order listed above.

CHAPTER 1

My name is Kevin Pettifer. I am just twenty-five years old.  I am a regular sailor in the Royal Navy, which I joined as a cadet when I was eighteen years old and in which I now hold the non-commissioned rank of Petty Officer: Petty Officer Pettifer – it has a nice sound to it, don’t you think? I have just been promoted to this rank and posted to what for me is a dream job: Chief Physical Education Instructor and  Disciplinarian on board the special cadet training ship, H.M.T.S. Great Endeavour. I should tell you that we are in the year 2027, some seven years after the British government, now free of the smothering rules of the European Community, thanks to the 2016 Brexit vote, decided to reintroduce corporal punishment into British schools and the Armed Forces of the U.K.

So as you might imagine, the cane had been immediately and enthusiastically re-adopted as an old and reliable friend by the Royal Navy, where it was considered as quite the best means of disciplining its younger ratings and cadets. In fact, no one could understand how they had managed without it in those intervening “molly-coddler- do-gooder” years when its use, along with all other forms of corporal punishment,  had been forbidden by law. In a word, it really was a return to “the good old days” when cadets and ratings knew their manners and were generally respectful to their senior officers; except, of course, when they weren’t and as a result finished up with very sore arses; as many in fact did!

The Royal Navy was very unforgiving when it came to breaking of the rules; and as new recruits soon discovered, very painfully to their cost, in spite of its absence for many years, present officers had little problem in again making the cane “sing for its supper.” In experienced hands, the cane comes singing down at high speed through the air, making that wonderful swishing sound as it descends towards its final destination, giving the unfortunate recipient only a split-second’s notice that the end of its trajectory is nigh; and that its kinetic energy will, on landing with that very satisfying crack that a well applied rattan-cane makes when it is stopped  dead in its tracks by a well-present pair of naked buttocks, translate itself into a deep welt of searing pain engraved in the naked flesh of the recipient. No one who has never personally experienced a naked-arse beating administered by a skilled exponent of the art, can even begin to imagine the utterly excruciating pain that one single stroke of a slender, flexible rattan-cane can deliver to the recipient. And remember beatings were never limited to one single stroke!

By the year 2027, when I received my promotion and joined the non-commissioned officer class, the cane, and to some extent, the birch, had been in regular use for several years, much to the discomfort of many cadets  and naval ratings, who found themselves, all too frequently in their view, ordered to offer up their naked arses to be beaten. This was an entirely new experience for most lads and a very unpleasant one to boot. As the use of the cane had been abolished from schools well before most of them had been born, they had never known what strict corporal punishment was like; in fact, they had never known what any kind of corporal punishment was like. So joining the Navy as a cadet was, for most of them, like jumping into a bath of ice-cold water. But, as one senior Admiral had remarked at the time; the re-introduction of corporal punishment was one of the few sensible decisions taken by any British Government in fifty years.

So as Chief Disciplinarian on-board ship, I am the person who, on a regular basis, wields both the cane, and occasionally the birch; and as many recipients of my largesse could tell you, I really am very good at my job. Most lads whose naked arses I have just thrashed go away feeling rather sorry for themselves, vowing to toe the line in future;  luckily for me, although I ought not to admit it, I really do enjoy thrashing a well rounded naked arse. And, in spite their good intentions when they get up from a beating nursing their roasted arses, many of them do come back for more; in fact, to be more accurate, I should have said that they are brought back for more; no cadet or rating in his right mind ever volunteers to have his backside beaten.

But first let me backtrack a number of years and tell you how I, a lower working-class lad from Bradford, for long both a depressed and depressing industrial city in the North of England, came to be in the Royal Navy.

CHAPTER 2

I was born early in the new century in the year 2001; an only child, I was nevertheless totally neglected by both my parents; I barely knew my mother as she ran off with another man when I was about six or seven, leaving me with a drunken, drug-addict for a father. In fact, it was probably his drinking which drove her away. Anyway, my father and I lived – if you could call it living – in one of those dreadful tower blocks, which municipal councils in so many towns around the country had built as “social housing”. Viewed in retrospect there was nothing social about them; antisocial would have been a better term. Such vertical constructions, often of more than a hundred, miserable, tiny, low-ceilinged apartments, came later to be viewed as a misguided attempt to clear what had been considered as slums: often streets and streets of inadequate terraced houses. But in erecting the faceless tower blocks which so dominate everything, they very effectively turned what had been horizontal slums made up of small one-family houses, where at least there had been some human contact with the neighbours, into faceless vertical slums where no one knew anyone and which, after a few years, became so vandalised and run down that no-one in his right mind would have chosen to live there; but people did; my father and I did;  as like many others, we had nowhere else to go.

As the years went by, the block in which we lived became more and more dilapidated as the cheap construction began to show its age.  This was not helped by the fact that the walls in the corridors were defaced with graffiti pretty well everywhere; lifts did not work half the time and what with men and youths urinating anywhere and everywhere, the whole place stank to high heaven; it was hard to think of anyone calling their flat a home. And I might add that our block was typical of countless others around the country, in which living conditions became totally untenable; so much so that many blocks were finally demolished.

Not that we ever had much home life, my father and I; he was mainly either drunk or under the influence of some drug or other; so half the time I think that he was totally unaware I was still living there. Communal meals with my father had long become a thing of the past and I was usually left to fend for myself, cobbling together something by way of a meal from whatever food my father had bought; often there was nothing at all to eat in the house after he had been on a blinder; so I just lived on takeaways. It is not surprising that as time passed and I grew older, I became increasingly disgusted not only with the hell-hole in which we lived, but also with my own father who did not lift a finger to try to maintain any reasonable standard of daily living.

I should mention, by the way, that my father was what, I suppose, is called a barrow-boy, selling fruit and vegetables; he had a pitch on local market where I suppose he made some sort of a living; but then, each evening, he would be straight off to the pub until closing time, where he spent all his earnings on beer, which he would then duly piss away before coming home and going straight to bed in a drunken stupor to sleep it off.  The only positive thing I can say about my relationship with my father is that he did not interfere with my activities; even from an early age. I could come and go as I liked. I had always had a key to the front door, which in my younger days I kept on a length of string around my neck. But did we ever have a father-son relationship? Definitely not; we were just two bodies in the same flat; no more, no less.

Like so many of the tower block complexes dotted around the big towns, ours was typical.  There were three towers which had been built on a desolate site: just grass with not a tree or garden in sight; and as there was nothing: absolutely nothing at all for us to do around the place where we lived as kids, we went down-town and hung around the shops and takeaways and tried our best to amuse ourselves. It goes without saying that we indulged in not a little vandalism, as wrecking other people property seemed like fun at the time; and there was always a certain excitement in escaping from the hands of the law.

I went to the local inner city comprehensive school until I was sixteen years old.  My school was typical of that group of comprehensives which received very severe criticism for their performance. Frankly, most members of the teaching staff were apathetic; looking back now, I doubt that any one of them had any vocational motivation to do the important job which they had selected to earn their living. Couple that with the fact that the vast majority of the children, me included, were totally uninterested in any form of serious learning. So most of us went to school because the law demanded it; and the teachers went through the motions of trying to instil some knowledge into us. But frankly, we were a well matched bunch: teachers and pupils: teachers who did not really want to teach and pupils who really did not want to learn; so the results produced were disastrously bad. I left school when I was sixteen – the minimum age at which I could escape – with absolutely no formal academic qualifications and tried to find a job.

Now the law at that time insisted that those leaving school aged sixteen were obliged to seek either and apprenticeship of become a trainee of some sort. And so it was that I became a trainee in the local supermarket; I am not at all sure what I was training to be, as my job seemed only to consist of filling up the shelves, for which, as even I as a teenager could see, one did not need much training. But for a while that satisfied my ambition, if you could call it that.  I was free; I had a pathetic little wage packet whose entire contents were mine to spend and I had a roof over my head, which cost me nothing. The one good thing I can say in favour of my father is that he never asked me to contribute to the living expenses of our hovel of an apartment; so my wage was mine to spend as I wished; and so I had enough cash to keep me afloat in that youth culture which is so typical of English run-down areas.

I was part of a gang of foot-loose and fancy-free youths, with profiles similar to mine, some a little older than me, all of whom were, as was I, in dead-end jobs and whose ambitions in life were absolutely nil. Their main interests, when they were not trying to pull the girls in some sort of dismal club or other, was to make mischief. And for a while I went along with it, until one day I suddenly realised that I was not at all interested in girls.  In fact it now dawned on me aged sixteen, that I had never been interested in the opposite sex much at all; and even less so now that that I was approaching manhood.  I had never really thought much about my sexuality; but surrounded by guys one of whose main interest in life was trying to fuck the girls, I just knew that that was not for me. And gradually I began to feel embarrassed by the never ending conversation about the “birds” and what one did to them.

Looking back now, it was, in fact, first then that I began to think seriously about sex and how little I knew about it. However, I did know that I was attracted to other young guys rather than to members of the opposite sex; but I did nothing about this attraction, which I kept entirely to myself.  My gang contemporaries were totally against gays of any sort, whom they referred to as “poofters”; had they known that they had a potential gay guy in their midst, my life would not have been worth living; empathy was not a concept which the type of guys I was then going around with understood.  And so I came to the conclusion that I had, somehow to disentangle myself from this group of ne’er-do-wells with whom I had become associated after leaving school. In a word, I had realised that the whole lot of us were going nowhere in life.

One of the few activities at school, from which I had derived a little pleasure, was gymnastics and physical education.  I was about 182 cm in height and had quite a good figure with nice muscles and all in all, looking at myself in the mirror, I thought that I looked just great. Whether anyone else would have agreed with me, I am not sure; but that is how I saw myself and as we all know beauty, as ever, is in the eyes of the beholder!  And so, in an attempt to nip my own nascent career as a professional lay-about and hell-raiser in the bud, I went along to the only gym which was available locally and signed on as a member.

The gym, which was privately owned, was not badly equipped and I found that I quickly became obsessed with trying to develop my body. I went there three nights a week and worked out for a good three hours.  One thing I found difficulty in coming to terms with was the fact that the showers were all communal. I confess, that in spite of my growing interest in other guys, I was always somewhat embarrassed stripping off to the buff and letting the others, most of whom I did not know, see my most precious credentials; not that I had anything to be ashamed of, by the way; indeed quite the contrary, for I quickly saw from my furtive glances at other guys in the showers, that my sexual equipment was up there with the best.  In fact, I venture to say that among the many different guys whose man-meat I casually saw, mine was easily the biggest and best proportioned. But in spite of the attraction of other men, I could never bring myself to take that first step and show my true colours. To be honest, I had not the faintest idea if any of my co-gymnasts were of the same sexual persuasion as me.

So my visits to the gym were sort of solitary outings; I did not have a training partner and spent all my time there working out by myself. Had I wished to try to find someone of the same mind as myself, I really would have had no idea of what to say to him: no idea even of how to begin; after all, my sexuality was all in my mind: I had no actual sexual experience beyond jerking-off in private; I had never ever “done it” with a member of either sex; and quite, frankly, I was not at all sure what guys actually did together, as we had had no sexual instruction at all at school. And as for the time honoured “birds and bees” discussion with my father, well you can forget that; it never happened; my father and I just did not have any kind of discussion about anything, least of all about sex. In fact, looking back now, I doubt that he was even aware that I had left school and was working as a trainee at the supermarket; he and I had no relationship at all; we just lived under the same roof.  So all that I knew about sex was really rather superficial and learned by innuendo and osmosis!

CHAPTER 3

So I decided that I needed to be better informed, to which end I started patronising an internet café down-town.  There, via the internet, I got not only a clear understanding of what male-male sex was all about, but I went on and found various pornographic sites where muscular men with huge cocks performed the most incredible sexual feats on on stage at various competitions, where the winner was named the Alpha Male: the stud with the body and cock which all others would worship! But I also saw the waspish comments of many of the runners-up which showed the unpleasant side of the business.

Not that I aspired to becoming an Alpha Male myself; but I did see that the studs who were fucking each other seemed to be having one hell of a good time; and so I naturally wondered whether eventually, I too could derive such pleasure from such intimate activities with another guy; but not on stage and not even in public.  But totally inexperienced in matters sexual as I was, what my researches did teach me, was that my own sexual future, whenever it might begin, would be male orientated; Any lingering doubts that I might have had in that area had completely vanished; I guess I could have described myself at that period in my life as a “shy, gay,virgin in waiting.”

But another thing which inspired me to greater efforts with my own physique was the attraction of the perfectly honed male body. Many of the guys I saw on the internet clearly paid great attention to good symmetrical muscles; and, most importantly, they all had good sized cocks.  I saw also that practically all the muscular and well endowed gay males I found on the internet had always been circumcised.  Somehow the removal of the foreskin put the whole male-organ into superb relief which I found utterly entrancing; I just loved the way that the cock-head, released from its clinging foreskin, became so well defined and was set off from the shaft with a clearly defined rim. I saw now why guys often referred to their cocks as their knobs; the knob was clearly the head.  I was sure that I would one day have to face the hurdle of circumcision, which, in my view, stood in the way of a perfect physique; like most English lads of my age, my cock was uncut; and just the thought, let alone the act, of letting some surgeon loose on my penis, already sent shivers down my spine. But inwardly I just knew that one day I would submit to the knife as I was very cock conscious and wanted mine to be up there with the very best.

However, my internet researches really did inspire me. They convinced me of the future direction which my life would have to take if I was ever to achieve sexual fulfilment. For the time being as I was just seventeen, I decided that I would try to develop a truly harmonious, muscular body; I knew for a fact that I was better endowed naturally than most guys I had ever seen naked, as I already had a large and well balanced penis some 18 cm long (not counting that awful foreskin!) when soft, which sat beautifully above a pair of well separated balls. And so I aspired to making my body worthy of these, the most important, of my natural attributes,  In fact, I admitted to myself that I was more than a little narcissistic, as I liked to admire myself in a mirror and dream of what might one day be.

So for the next year or so, I concentrated my efforts at the gym in improving my overall physique. I was still very much a loner as I never found a partner to train with; in fact to be quite honest, was just too timid to make a move.  I can safely say that it was my gymnastic activities which saved me from the utter futility of the life which my contemporaries continued to lead.  I could see that they were on the road to nowhere; and several of them got entangled with the police and got sent to a young offender’s prison facility. But looking at my own situation, apart from the gym, my prospects at work in the supermarket were also not exactly glistening with opportunity.  After a year working there, I had been upgraded to a more senior position, which meant that I now had a few younger guys to supervise. But filling shelves myself or supervising new underlings doing the same job was not a very stimulating way of life. In fact, bluntly put, I was in a dead-end job with no great prospects.

However, one thing I did learn from my job at the supermarket, was that the senior staff: the management I suppose, spoke much better English than I did. From my rough beginnings and poor schooling, I still spoke with a very strong northern accent, used a lot of slang words; and in common with most Yorkshire lads of my ilk, the letter H was unknown in the language we spoke. And so it gradually dawned upon me that if I wanted to get on in life, to better myself and escape from what I knew was the dead-end road I was now on, it would help if I learned how to speak and write better English.  So with that objective in mind, I enrolled two nights a week at an evening centre on a course designed to help young people like me to improve their verbal and written communication skills. When my friends, of whom I was now seeing less and less, as my weekday evenings were now more or less fully occupied with my gym activities and the English course, heard what I was doing, I came in for a lot of ribbing. “Wo' d’yer wanna lern ter talk posh for?” was their attitude. But I adopted what I would call a “water off a duck’s back” attitude and didn’t rise to their baiting.

But my life changed suddenly, when I happened to see an announcement on the internet. The Royal Navy was recruiting what it described as “older cadets” with a view to training to make a permanent career as a hand in the regular navy.  What was attractive about the offer was that it indicated that successful recruits could, after the training period, hope to pass rapidly from the grade of a rating, the lowest naval rank, to the level of a non-commissioned officer.  I admit I had no idea what a non-commissioned officer was but what attracted me was that fact that if I were accepted as a cadet, then I would at least be in an all-male environment; the advert. was quite specific on that point; this was not an offer made to both sexes, as was now usually the case, but was for young men only; so I assumed it was sort of old style navy.

I read this announcement in late August 2019 and the closing date for applications was September 30th. To be eligible for consideration applicants had to be at least eighteen years of age by January 1st 2020 but no older than nineteen. By chance I fitted the age requirement perfectly.  The other notable thing was that there was no question of academic qualifications mentioned; it seemed that the Royal Navy was prepared to consider anyone and everyone for this training course; and as far as qualifications were concerned; well, as you know already, I didn’t have any. But my night classes really helped me when it came to filling in the application form which was long and detailed. I posted my completed application to some address in the south of England by early September and then sat round for some three weeks on those proverbial tenterhooks – what are they, by the way? – waiting for a reply.  I had never really received much mail at all in the past but each and every day I looked into our mail-box to see of anything had arrived. When it finally did, I was at first overjoyed and then immediately apprehensive, as I opened the envelope, wondering what it would say.

The letter said that I had been provisionally accepted for the Senior Cadet Training Course, but that my final acceptance was subject to my satisfactory performance at a two day evaluation session to be held on October 15th and 16th at the Royal Navy Training Facility in in Dartmouth. Enclosed with the letter were a second class return rail travel warrant from Bradford to Exeter and a return bus pass from Exeter to Dartmouth.  The instructions were very precise; applicants had to arrive on October 14th and depart of October 17th. As far as clothing was concerned applicants were required to wear a suit and tie and come with two changes of underwear and two white shirts and a tie. Conventional black leather shoes were also required.  So here was my immediate problem; I possessed neither a suit nor white shirts nor a tie; and as for black leather shoes; well who the hell wore such antiquated footwear today?  Frankly it all sounded as if it came out of the ark. But so much did I want to be accepted for the cadet training course, that I went out and acquired all the prescribed clothing.

This was the first time I had consciously gone out and bought a complete set of clothing; like most working class lads of my age, I wore T-shirts, jeans and trainers.  But I went into town to an up-market  men’s outfitters – the places I normally patronised didn’t even sell suits – and laid out what seemed to me like a small fortune to get myself togged up for the evaluation. And I have to say, that when I got home and put on the whole outfit, admiring myself in front of the mirror, I thought I looked really great; it was as if I was looking at a different person; I can tell you that it did a great deal for my self-esteem; so it seemed that there was some method in the Navy’s apparent madness. And then there was the question of a suitcase; I didn’t have one and neither did my father; so that too had to be bought.

But by the time October 14th rolled round, I was fully equipped and really looking forward to my trip down south. You have to understand that as a lower-working-class northerner, I had never got any further than Leeds in the past; so even the train journey south was quite an adventure. I had several days of holiday still due so I took these in October. And then on the fatidic day, at what seemed the crack of dawn, I took the train from Bradford to Leeds, where I boarded the 09:11 express to Exeter.  From Exeter station I then took the bus which brought me to the Dartmouth bus terminal, from where I could walk to the Royal Navy facility where the evaluation was to be held. Little did I imagine that later this day my life would totally change; and I am not now talking about the Cadet Training Course; but the unexpected so often happens.

CHAPTER 4

On arrival at the training facility, I was received, at a desk in the entrance, by a uniformed officer, who I later learned was a non-commissioned petty officer; I have to say he was very brisk and efficient, which I was rapidly to learn was the way the navy functioned.  After registration, a young regular sailor in uniform, not much older than me by the look of him, took me to my billet; this turned out to be a double-bedded room, which I was clearly going to share with some other candidate. He left me with the information that supper would be at seven, that the bell would ring at ten to the hour and that I would find the mess-hall in the main building.  He left me with the gentle warning that, in his opinion, if I valued my chances, I should not be late; I was then left to myself.

I was not long alone, however, as the same young sailor came back with my room-mate about ten minutes later.  I had very mixed feeling about sharing a room with another man, as I had never in my life slept other than by myself. However, as the two of us shook hands and introduced ourselves to each other, I saw that the young man with whom I was to share the room was a very attractive looking character indeed: handsome to a fault, with dark blond hair; and even in a suit, I could see that he was someone, who like me, clearly looked after his body; at first sight speaking as someone with absolutely no sexual experience whatsoever, I have to say that I found him sexually extremely attractive, which induced in me a certain curiosity coupled with a degree of nervous apprehension.

His name, he told me was Connor Black and like me, he was from the industrial north; from Leeds, in fact. I wondered if the powers that be had billeted to two of us together, thinking that we might get on as northerners together in what was a very different environment from that in which we both presently lived. How we two came to be put together in a double-bedded room was never very clear, for as I saw later, other candidates were allocated to ten-bed dormitories. So my new companion and I found ourselves in sort of a privileged position from the start. And it was that simple unforeseen chance by which we two had been brought together, which was totally to change my life.

Until it was time to go to find the mess, we began to try to get to know one another. It turned out that he, like me, was in a dead-end job: a building labourer with no prospects; like me he had somehow seen the same announcement, which had now brought us together in Dartmouth. Like me, he was hoping that the cadet course would give him the opportunity to get out of the boring rut of his present existence and give him an opportunity to do something more interesting and worthwhile with his life. For a while we conducted a somewhat stilted conversation, as we gently tiptoed verbally around each other, trying to identify some points in common; but very quickly Connor brought the conversation around to that perennial subject: sex.

“Got a girlfriend,” Connor asked.

“No, not really; well not at all, in fact.”

“You surprise me; a good looking guy like you and not attached.”

“Well to be quite honest, I’m really rather shy; and I find girls very difficult.”  That was the way I put it as I did not want to say straight-put that I was not interested in the opposite sex at all. “How about you?  You got somebody regular?”

“No, not really, I’m a bit like you, I suspect; frankly women scare me.”  He had clearly taken up on my remark about finding girls difficult and had decided to burn his boats, so to speak as he said: “Well look here, I may as well square with you right now, as we are sharing a room together for the next couple of nights and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me; well anyway, the fact of the matter is that I’m gay; I hope sharing with a gay guy does not offend you; believe me I’m not at all dangerous; I’m not much of a predator and I’m not going to rape you.” He concluded with a laugh.

So there I had it; this handsome looking stud, whom I, the shrinking violet of a gay virgin, had found lusciously attractive at very first sight was, was gay; I was sharing a room with a real live homosexual.  Now I knew, or at least I thought that I knew, that I was the same; but as you know my timidity had, until now, stopped me going any

further than being, how shall I put it, a “theoretical gay”. The question was:  What would happen next; what should I now say to Connor?

So rather than reveal my own thoughts on the matter, I decided to find out more about Connor and his sexual activities. I said to him: “So, Connor, have you got a regular boy-friend or partner then?”

“No not really; I’ve known since I was fifteen that I was gay but it’s only in the last year, since my eighteenth birthday that I have actually started having sex with other guys,  In fact, it all happened for the first time at my eighteenth birthday bash. I found myself in a clinch with another guy whom I didn’t actually know at the time; he was a friend of a friend who had just been brought along; and well, you know how things happen; I don’t need to tell you all the gory details, but one thing led to another; So to cut a long story short, we finished up having sex with one another.  Well actually, to tell the honest truth about what actually happened, he fucked me and it was not until a few days later when we met up again at a mutual friend’s place that I had my first fuck. So you could say I’m sort of an advanced beginner. But don’t get me wrong; I’ve had plenty of experience since then. I really enjoy having sex with other guys and in fact, I’ve fucked and been fucked by at least ten different guys since that first time; so I think, by now I know which end is up. But there is no one special at the moment. So how about you? No girl friend; so how is your sex life?”

This question struck me like an arrow in the heart; Connor was very direct and came straight to the point; I could feel my face going red; the conversation had taken a horribly intimate turn which I had not at all wanted; but now, having heard in some detail from Connor about his sex life, he, not unnaturally, wanted to know about mine. But as you already know I had nothing concrete to tell him other than that apart from jerking off from time to time (it was getting more and more frequent as time passed as I found, quite naturally, I suppose, that I needed sexual relief more regularly) I did not actually have a sex life; but how did I being to confess that here I was, eighteen years old, and still, in every way, a virgin: I’d neither fucked nor been fucked! I was tongue-tied with embarrassment.

Connor clearly saw that there was a problem and said: “Come on Kevin; fess up; what’s the matter; it can’t be so bad that you can’t bring yourself to talk about it, can it? Have you been dumped or something? Look here Kevin. I’m a good and sympathetic listener; so just lay your cards on the table; I don’t bite.”

I have to say that I had never expected such a sympathetic response to my obvious difficulty; and so I decided to come clean and tell Connor about my problem. Taking a deep breath I began: “Connor, I am really very embarrassed to tell you this, but the simple fact of the matter is that here I am, eighteen years old with absolutely no sexual experience at all. I have just been so timid even to think about developing a relationship with anyone, male or female.  But as I already told you, I am not really interested in women and I find I do like looking at other men, especially well set up guys such as you.  But to date, looking is as far as I have got.  I’ve looked at all sort of male porn sites on the internet so I’m fully aware of what guys do to each other when they get together. So I sort of guess that I am like you: a gay: a homosexual; but I have never dared to put my thoughts to the test; at the moment I suppose I’m what might be called a gay- in-waiting”.

“The fact of the matter is that all my friends are so into pulling the girls; frankly it’s all they think and talk about – and I know for a fact that they hate gays; in fact, certain of them are gay baiters, so as you can imagine I’ve kept quiet about my own sexuality.  In fact, one of the reasons I have applied for this training course, is that I would be living and working in an all male environment if I were accepted. So there, my friend, you have a more or less complete picture of my non-existent sex-life; the nearest I get to sex is when I jerk-off to relieve myself. So as you can see, Connor, I’m really a bit of a basket case when it comes to sex. This is the first time I have ever told anyone about my problems and you know, at the end of the day, it was much simpler than I thought when I began; it turned out to be so much easier than I ever thought, unburdening myself to you; someone like you, whom I might never see again after these two days.”

At that moment the bell rang announcing that it was time to move to the mess for supper and so our conversation and its possible repercussions were curtailed; curtailed but not abandoned, as Connor clearly had every intention of “showing me the light”, as he put it later that same evening, when in the privacy of our room, he launched me into my very first experience of gay sex; I say launched, for what he did to me was much akin in my mind, to the launching of a new ship, when that bottle of champagne breaks across the prow – or is it the stern of the vessel.

The supper over, the camp commander lectured is for about half an hour on the evaluation tests which we would all undergo over the next two days, starting at seven tomorrow, immediately after breakfast; reveille was at six; breakfast at six-thirty; our day then began at seven and would end at six in the evening with only one hour break for lunch at noon. It was clear that the British Navy did not hang around.

After we were dismissed for the evening Connor and I moved over to the bar in the mess and had a few drinks with some of the other candidates before going back to our room.  I have to say that I was somewhat apprehensive about what might happen once we were alone again together; I had exposed my vulnerability to my room-mate, who now knew that he was sharing with a totally inexperienced guy who felt he was gay but who had never ever acted upon his convictions.  I need not have worried for Connor had no intention of letting the occasion pass.

“OK Kevin: so let’s talk turkey; as I see it you are up the proverbial creek without a paddle at the moment; you think that you are gay but have done nothing actively to try to confirm your thoughts on the matter. So why not let me take you in hand right now and show you the ropes.  No, don’t look shocked; you have to find out sometime whether you truly are a homosexual or whether it is all just in your mind; you have to find out whether you want to become a practising gay: a guy who has sex for pleasure with other men of similar inclination, or whether you want to try for a so-called normal life with a member of the opposite sex in whom you say that you have no interest. But one thing is sure; in my view you need to make some sort of choice about your sex life and pretty damn quick at that; a well set-up guy like you cannot go on much longer without having some sort of regular sexual activity. Kevin it’s as simple as this; you have got to start fucking – and pronto my friend.” 

“Look here, Kevin; not to mince words and to call a spade a shovel as we northerners do, fucking is an absolutely essential activity for all men; we are all programmed to do it by nature. You simply cannot go on denying yourself what is possibly the most wonderful thing in life; and I can tell you that jerking yourself off is no substitute at all for having sex with another warm body; believe me, sexual intercourse is truly one of the great things in life. You know, aged only eighteen, I would hate to live without having sex with another guy; nothing gives me greater pleasure than the sex act; it’s a toy which never fails to please! So, what do you say? Shall we give it a whirl together? It’s got to happen sometime Kevin, and there is no time like the present.  So come on; pluck up your courage boy and say yes; I know just how you are feeling; it’s like taking a step into the unknown: but just trust me; it’ll all be OK and I promise you will love it.”

Connor really did have the gift of the gab and I did not know what to say; but taking my silence as my agreement, Connor simply began stripping off in front of me. In a few second he was standing there, totally unembarrassed, stark-naked.  I had, until this moment, not seen my roommate naked; but now here he was; a beautifully carved and muscular figure which testified to many serious hours in the gym;

and he was already sporting a rock-hard erection to boot. His cock was well balanced between length and girth, and, in its present erect state, must have measured at least eighteen cm in length. But the thing I noticed immediately was that Connor had been circumcised, which is not at all common among Englishmen;  but it was precisely the lack of foreskin which exposed a well-rounded head, set off from a dead-straight shaft by a well defined rim which made this guy’s man-meat so very attractive to my eye.

I had never before been alone in the presence of another guy, whose intention was clearly to have sex with me.  I had seen other guys’ equipment in the showers at the gym, but I had never until now been able to feast my eyes on such a magnificent sexual tool primed for use.  With my eyes glued on Connor’s cock, I could feel my own sex-tool stirring in my trousers, which I suppose told me that this was the moment when I should capitulate and let this young stud take my anal virginity; let him fuck me.  What the hell; as Connor had said, it had to happen sometime and there was no time like the present. So I finally threw caution to the winds and started stripping off in front of the man who was to introduce me to the art of gay sex. I can tell you that once I had made the decision to go the whole hog, I had no hesitation in stripping and standing stark naked in front of Connor; any sense of embarrassment I had had previously had just disappeared.

He and I had very similarly physiques and mine was at least equal to his;  and as far as that all important organ with which we were about to commune together was concerned, well mine was at least as attractive as his.  Oh to hell with false modesty; my penis is 18 cm long when soft and well over that when hard; so I felt in no way inferior to Connor as we stood there in our birthday suits, sizing each other up.  What Connor had and which I did not, was experience; and that he was now about to share with me and bring me into the real world of gay sex.

If my eyes had been glued on Connor’s cock as he stood there naked, his were now bulging out of his head as he saw my equipment. “Crikey Moses,” he said, “Where the fuck did you get that tool from? It’s absolutely enormous; one of the biggest and best I have ever seen. How on earth have you managed not to have sex with such magnificent equipment to hand? I really hope that you have not been slinging me a line about your virginity and sexual inexperience to make a fool out of me.  Frankly, Kevin, just looking at you, you are just so sexually attractive that I find it hard to believe that you have never ever had sex with anyone, male or female.  How could you resist with the equipment you have?”

“Come on now Kevin; get real: you could have any chick or guy you want; a guy like you is just made for sex.  So please don’t tell me now that you don’t want me to fuck you; otherwise, God help me, I’ll rape you; Kevin you are just so lusciously attractive that I really can’t wait any longer to get started. So in case you have not got the message, I wanted to help you get started; to give you that first time experience; but believe me, now that I see you stripped for action, I kid you not my friend; I want to fuck you and fuck you really hard right now.”

By now I was sort of overwhelmed by the undoubted sincere praise I was getting from Connor and there was no way that I could stop what was going to happen; in fact, being brutally honest with myself, there was no way I wanted to stop what Connor was proposing to do to me.  He stood there for a few moments gazing at me with lustful eyes; then he approached me and wrapped his arms around me and kissed me full on the mouth, which I found the most intimate act I had ever experienced in my life. Better put and more realistically, it was the only intimate act I had ever experienced, as until that moment no guy, or girl for that matter, had ever touched me; but with Connor it was a moment of sheer magic.  

He then descended with his lips, kissing my chest, concentrating on each nipple in turn; by the time he had finished both my nipples were as hard as my cock, which was already beginning to ooze a little pre-cum.  Lower and lower he went, before finally ending up on his knees in front of me with my cock in his mouth; by the time he had finished, I was almost at the stage of orgasm; it was sheer heaven for me, as I had never ever experienced anything like it. It suddenly hit me that Connor was not just going to fuck me, but was actually making love to me; arousing me, in fact, before he moved on to the actual act of copulation.

After a couple of minutes sucking my dick, he stood suddenly stood up and went across to his suitcase directly in front of me, fished out a packet of condoms and rolled one onto his rock-hard cock. He then picked up a tube of lubricant and applied a generous coating to the entire length of his rubber clothed tool.  This done, he handed me a condom and told me to roll it onto my own cock which I did without question, not really knowing why I needed it.  He then motioned to me to kneel down on the bed and spread my legs, which I did. “Get a pillow for your head.” He said. “Make yourself comfortable and stick your arse well up with your legs spread apart so that I can get access to your vital orifice.”

Having done as requested, I waited, still with some degree of trepidation, for what was to be one of the most significant events in my life: Connor was going to rob me of my anal virginity. I felt him kneel-down behind me and the next thing I knew was that he was applying some of the lubricant to my anus. I have to say that feeling for the first time another man touching my fundamental orifice was quite an experience; Connor was very thorough in his preparation of his target as he pushed his finger loaded with the lubricant well into my rectum. I discovered that it was not at all an unpleasant experience and I suppose was an intimation of what was to happen next. The fatidic moment had now arrived and I felt the tip of that beautifully rounded head of Connor’s cock pushing against my anal sphincter demanding access to my rectum.

“You really do have a wonderfully tight hole.” he said. “It’s exactly what I like; it’s just great to have a partner with a sphincter tight enough to grip my cock; it makes for a really great fuck for both of us.  Now Kevin, don’t resist; just relax and let me penetrate you properly. Once your sphincter relaxes enough to accept my cock, I shall sink the full length of my meat into you so that you can feel, for the first time, what it is like to have another guy inside you; and then, if you feel OK, which I am sure you will, I will begin to fuck you properly, starting gently with small strokes and little force and gradually building up as we both approach climax.  My aim, Kevin, is that we should both achieve orgasm together so that at that climatic moment we are sort of glued together by a common bond; and believe me, Kevin, I aim to do you proud;  to give you what will be the most wonderful experience of your life to date. So just relax and let me enter you; there is nothing at all to fear; and I promise you that if you ask me to stop at that stage, I will do so; no questions asked; no recriminations; I repeat: there’s nothing at all to fear.”

I have to say that I was mightily impressed by Connor’s clear concern; but as you can well imagine, the first time is nevertheless very special and I was still a little apprehensive; and I am sure that Connor could feel me shaking a little as he pushed his cock more firmly against my anal sphincter.  Suddenly that critical muscle relaxed and his cockhead passed inside me, to be followed immediately by his considerable shaft, which he forced into me in one long smooth stroke. There was a slight sharp pain as his cock passed over what I suppose was my prostate; but otherwise there was no great pain.

Connor bent over me complete and whispered into my ear: “You OK, Kevin?  That was not too bad was it? Shall I go on or do you want me to stop now?”

Having got so far without any mishaps, I nodded my assent to him to continue, which he did with great panache.  It was obvious even to me, as an utter beginner, that in Connor I had found a consummate copulator: a stud with a big cock and one who knew how to use it to both his own and his partner’s advantage.  As he had said he would, he began by gently pumping his erection in and out of my rectum, with small and gentle strokes, which were silkily smooth thanks to the large amount of lubricant he had used. But as time went on as he – and I too, for that matter – became more and more aroused by what we were doing, passion took over from restraint and the amplitude and force of his strokes increased dramatically.

It was at that moment I knew that Connor could no longer control himself; he just had to go on to climax. Longer and longer grew the strokes of his cock and the force and speed of his thrusting increased; eventually he withdrew its full length, paused a second or so before thrusting it again with tremendous force back into my anus.  In fact, it was a real climactic instant for both of us as we both reached orgasm at that very moment and pumped out our sperm in a series of body-shaking, orgasmic jerks.  It was, for me, a moment of sheer bliss for me and I suppose for him too, I had never ever in my life experienced anything quite like it; as Connor had said, a good fuck beats a jerk-off into a cocked hat any day of the week; and he was right.

And so there you have it; that was how I lost my anal virginity to a guy whom I had known less than a full day. In fact, Connor was not only a tremendous lover, if what we had done together could be described as act of love; he was also a very considerate guy and I suddenly realised how very lucky I had been to be thrown together with him; Connor was just great and I would be forever grateful to him for having got me over that first time fear of the unknown. In our post-copulative embrace, for he had now withdrawn his cock from my arse and we were lying facing one another on the bed, Connor said: “Well Kevin: how was it for you? Not at all bad I think: did you actually enjoy having your hole reamed out for the first time?”

I guess the look on my face answered his question, as he suddenly stood up pulled off his condom, which was full of his thick cream, rolled on another and descended onto me again. This time he did not ask my permission but just set about fucking me again.  And you know, I just let him go ahead, with no protest. This time, however, with me on my back, Connor took me face-to-face; he pulled my legs over his shoulders and then, with one quick and powerful thrust, forced his cock deep inside me as a prelude to a monumentally vigorous fuck; once again we both climaxed together and my own emission was just so copious that I found that I was leaking sperm from the condom I had been wearing from the start of our coupling.

To say that I had been on the receiving end, the passive partner, the bottom as I learned later it was called, I found that I was sweating and exhausted by the time Connor had finished fucking me for the second time. But it was not yet finished, for after a relatively short pause, during which we both recovered our breath Connor was again on his feet and rolling yet another fresh condom onto his cock which was still fully erect:  “So there you are Kevin; you now know what it feels like to get our hole reamed out and I think that you really enjoyed the experience; at least I did not hear any complaints, which I take as a positive sign.  But don’t think that we are through for you now have to play the active role. On your feet young man and roll on a fresh condom, as you are now going to have the pleasure of fucking me.”

When we had started my initiation into the joys of anal sex, I had had no idea of exactly what would be involved; but it was now quite clear that Connor intended to give me a very complete lesson in the act; he had fucked me twice in quick succession and now he clearly expected me to do the same for him.  My cock had hitherto never touched another guy – or a woman for that matter.  So although my anal virginity had just been lost, my man-meat was still Virgo intacto, so to speak; this was to be its first venture into hitherto unchartered waters and in spite of my recent anal experiences, I have to say that I still felt somewhat nervous.  I had truly enjoyed what I had just experienced with Connor; but now I was to become the prime mover: and I just prayed that I would be up to the task and would not mess up.

Connor still took me verbally by the hand as he gave me instructions on what to do. “Look Kevin, you saw what I did to you; well you just do the same for me. So to begin with you need to lube up my hole so that you can enter me smoothly. That, my friend, is the secret of a successful and comfortable fuck. We males don’t naturally lubricate our rectums when we fuck in the way that our female counterparts do with their vital passage; so we need to help nature along with a dose of lube.  After that, you will see that you don’t need any instructions at all once your cock is inside of me.  You know a guy’s stiff dick is programmed by nature to fuck and once you get started it all just comes naturally; you’ll see; it’s as easy as falling off a log!”

So I followed my mentor’s advice, rolled a fresh condom onto my cock which was still hard and erect and then applied a liberal dose of lubricant to my own equipment before addressing Connor’s anus.  Connor had meanwhile adopted what I suppose is called the doggy position, kneeling on the bed and was offering his arse, legs widely spread, for my attention,  I had never until now performed such an inmate act as I now did, applying the lubricant  to my partner’s fundamental orifice.  Although we had just had sex together, this was the first time I was able to take a really good look at Connor’s arse; and I have to say, that he had the most attractive pair of buttocks imaginable; if ever a guy was crying out to have his arse fucked it was Connor right now.

So the moment had now arrived for me to start my first performance, In spite of all assurances I still felt a bit queasy and hoped that I would perform satisfactorily. But then I thought of what Connor had just said: “A guy’s stiff dick is just programmed to fuck.”  Well looking down at my huge erection which was still rock hard, I realised that this was probably true and so I knelt down behind him and prepared myself for my first attempt at anal intercourse.  Well, it was just as Connor had said: it was as easy as falling off a log and a darned sight less painful!  I pushed the tip of my cock against his sphincter which very quickly yielded allowing me to slide my very long shaft deep inside him. As I bottomed my initial thrust with my pelvis against his buttocks, Connor emitted a long, low moan of pleasure.

Then as he had done I waited a few moments before starting to pound my partner. And it was just as he had said; the action of fucking came totally naturally; I knew automatically what I had to do; and so I gradually increased my stroke length and force so that when I finally climaxed I felt myself ejaculate several huge spurts of my sperm into the condom.  My orgasm was reached with my cock deep inside of Connor.  Totally breathless by the effort I had expended, I withdrew and we both rolled over. Connor who was still in state of high arousal then went on to finish off what I ought to have done for him.  He jerked himself off to climax with an enormous gush of his cream into the condom.

 “Don’t worry,” he said, as I started on a bout of self-recrimination.  “You did really great for your maiden fuck. All you need to learn is to read the signs from your partner so that you can hold back your climax until you are certain that you can bring him to his climax at the same time.  It’s just a matter of practice; but you will easily get there. But I kid you not, and no false flattery; you are naturally an excellent cocks-man Kevin.  My god, man, what on earth took you so long to get started?  How the fuck did you manage to remain a virgin for so long, given the attributes you have?  Tell you what though; I think I’ll give myself a pat on the back for having rescued you from your forced celibacy.  Kevin that was just great for me and I hope it was the same for you.  Now do you want another go from the front position?”

I did of course and we spent another few minutes in yet another vigorous clinch;  and this time I did manage to bring him to his climax at the same time as mine: a fact which gave me enormous pleasure as I wanted to please Connor after all he had done for me.  In one short evening, Connor had liberated me from my fears and I had enjoyed every moment of it.  I can tell you that in the brief time I had known Connor, I was now no longer in any doubt about my sexuality; I was gay; totally gay; one hundred percent; it was a simple as that; and I knew that my future sex-life would be uniquely with other men.

That night we both slept soundly to be awakened next morning by the sound of the reveille at six o’clock. That morning in the communal showers I had my first sight of what my fellow applicants looked like in the buff; I saw with a certain pride, that Connor and I were certainly among the best equipped of the lads present in our shower detail.  And for the first time I was no longer in the slightest embarrassed to stand around naked showing off my undoubted attributes to all and sundry. It is amazing what one evening of sexual liberation had done for my self-esteem; and all thanks to Connor. 

CHAPTER 5

For the next two days of the evaluation we were all kept very busy indeed; our feet barely touched the ground.  In fact, the only pauses were for meals. Supper was at seven sharp and after that we were free until the following day. Connor and I spent our time together exploiting the obvious pleasure we both found in the other’s body.  In a word, from the moment we were alone again together in our two-man snuggery, we were in what might be best described as the “make hay whilst the sun shines” mode; we just fucked each other as if there would be no tomorrow; it was absolute heaven for me and I hope for him too. I realised how deeply I was in his dept for what he had done for me the previous evening. But for me it was a new beginning to my life; something I had not hitherto experienced; and I went full throttle at it or the next two evenings, not knowing what the future for the two of us held. Until being thrown together with Connor I had never copulated with anyone at all; but now I made up for lost time and I enjoyed every minute of it.

The morning of our departure dawned. We had been told the previous evening, after the last of our evaluations, that we would be informed in writing within two weeks whether or not we had been selected to enrol in what was now described as an “elite” cadet course.  As Connor and I had both to travel north, we took the same train from Exeter to Leeds together and so we had each other’s company for the major part of the journey. Our sexual activities had occupied most of our free time when we were alone together at the naval training base; but in the train we had time to chew the fat and learn a lot more about each of our lives. This was not at all difficult in view of the extreme degree of intimacy which we had developed in such a short time.

So I told Connor about the dump of a council flat in which I lived with my father, my mother having left us many years ago. I learned from him that he had lived completely alone since he was seventeen years old. His mother had died quite young of a heart attack when he was ten and he and his father, also a building labourer, had continued living in the small back-to-back house, where he had spent all his life. Located in a depressed area of Leeds not far from the City prison, he told me that his father had taken up with another woman, with whom he now lived in another part of the city and had left his son in the family house; a house which he apparently owned, though how he had paid for it was a mystery to Connor. Anyway since his father’s departure Connor had lived alone in that miserable area of town in which he the house was located. This life, coupled with the dead-end job in which he found himself, had moved him to apply for the naval cadet course. So our backgrounds were remarkably similar and the all-male environment of the navy, given our sexual orientation, was a great attraction to both of us.

As the train pulled into Leeds station, I prepared to say my farewells to my unexpected mentor and teacher, for I had a connection to catch to go on to Bradford. But Connor had other ideas: “Listen Kevin,” he said, “Tomorrow is Saturday and you don’t have to go back to work until Monday, so why not come and spend the weekend here with me. Take the first train early on Monday morning and you can easily be back in Bradford in time for work.”

And so, I went along with this idea and together we caught a local bus to take us to where he lived. The place he lived in was a surprise for me; when we entered his little house, I was amazed just how comfortable and agreeable he had made things for himself.  Like so many workers’ dwellings of that period there was only one room downstairs and that itself opened directly onto the street; upstairs were two small bedrooms and a bathroom, which he told me his father had installed himself. But what the hell; I was not here to view the house but was there to spend the next two days with Connor, during which, although as yet unspoken, the key activity would be sex. After three nights together in Dartmouth, it was obvious that neither of us could get enough of the other and so it was clear from the start that we would spend a great deal of our time fucking each other.

It was now late afternoon so Connor suggested that I unpack my things and showed me the one small bedroom, which had a double bed which we were clearly going to share; he had never asked me if I wanted to sleep with him – which of course I did – but just took it for granted.  So there we were in his bedroom; Connor approached me, kissed me on the mouth again and whispered into my ear that he thought it was time we “made ourselves comfortable and relaxed together.”  Relax together? He must have been joking, for what we were about to do was anything but relaxing.  Anyway in a brace of shakes the two of us were naked and he was already rolling on a condom and applying lubricant to his cock as he had always done at Dartmouth and for the first time explained to me why it was necessary that we both use a rubber when we were fucking.

“Sex is a glorious business, Kevin; of that there is no doubt at all; but it is such a pity that it ends up in a sticky mess.  It’s all very well for a guy to cum all over his partner as we see all the time in the porn videos, but when you have to live with the consequences, as we shall have to, it all gets very messy. Frankly it’s not at all pleasant, Kevin, after having spent an evening of intense fucking one another to have to sleep between sheets which are soaked with spunk. So we both wear a condom to catch our emissions; that way we can sleep in a dry bed afterwards. So each time we fuck, and it matters not who is fucking and who is being fucked, we both wear a fresh condom, the old ones, which are full of our cream being chucked away. Of course, from a health point of view, condoms are recommended in all gay sex acts; safe sex is the order of the day.”

With that he pushed me down onto my face on the bed, lifted up my buttocks and gave me my first anal fuck of the day. What an expert cocks-man Connor was; now as ever he withheld his climax until he sensed that I was ready and then plunged into me with his final thrust with great force, causing us both to reach orgasm at the same moment; my God, what a consummate pro I had as a tutor; how could I have been so fortunate as to fall in with such a teacher?; such luck in Dartmouth that we had had a room together. Add to this that Connor obviously liked me as much as I liked him and now there was the added bonus that we lived not far apart; my immediate future looked bright on the sex front.

Well there is no point in my going on to give you the full blow-by-blow account of our subsequent activities that evening. Suffice it to say that by nine o’clock both of us were somewhat exhausted; so we each took a shower – separately alas – as the bathroom was tiny, got dressed and went out to to eat in a burger joint a short walk away.  That ended our first evening together at Connor’s.  Connor and I shared his bed and I slept, for the first time in my life, next to another warm body; it was absolute heaven for me, as I lay there that Friday evening mulling over what had happened to me since meeting Connor just three days ago. And what was so agreeable was that I still had two more whole days, Saturday and Sunday, before I had to make my way back to my own dump of a home in Bradford.

We lay together, side-by-side, talking.  “Well I told you it was easy,” said Connor, “And you see I was right; you have taken to sex like a duck takes to water. But then, don’t preen yourself too much, because most guys find it easy once they get over their initial self-consciousness; sex is the most natural thing in the world and most guys, once they get started, cannot do without it; my guess is, Kevin that you have already reached that stage.”  And you know; he was right.  I was looking forward to two more glorious days during which we could have sex with each other. On that note I fell asleep, somewhat exhausted by our joint efforts copulating.

Saturday morning dawned and I was up before Connor, so I went into the shower, which as I have already said was rather small. But where there’s a will there’s a way; so before I knew it, Connor who had now woken up and heard the shower, somehow managed to squeeze himself into it with me.  And before I knew it, he had soaped up his cock which was already rock-hard and I felt him shafting me, standing there under the running water.  This was a totally new experience for me as I had not hitherto been fucked standing up; but as ever, Connor was a complete master of the situation and as he increased his power and stroke length, he whispered into my ear: “This is what we call bare-back sex, Kevin; I’m not using a condom today; once we were pressed together in the shower, I just had to shaft you again; I couldn’t stop myself.” 

At the moment of climax, to which he very quickly brought me, he suddenly withdrew his cock completely and sprayed his generous load of cream all over my arse. I meanwhile emitted my own contribution to this early morning act of copulation in the series of orgasmic jerks, which this time projected my sperm all over the walls of the shower.  Our moment of ecstasy was shattered as the water in the shower suddenly went freezing cold; the hot water from the storage cylinder had suddenly run out, which obliged us to jump out of the shower, laughing at our misfortune and to attempt to dry ourselves off in what was a very cramped space; but we managed!

And so the next two days passed very quickly and Connor helped me to consolidate – with great pleasure, I might add – my newly liberated sexuality.  Connor and I clearly got on well together and when I left we agreed that I would come to Leeds and stay with him every weekend; it was evident that neither of us could get enough of the other; it was an absolutely euphoric experience for both of us, I think; but certainly it was for me. As I was leaving to go back to Bradford, he handed me two flat packs of condoms.  I looked at them questioningly and he said: “Take them Kevin and keep one pack on yourself at all times as you never know when you might need them. Remember, no sex without a condom; it’s a golden rule.”

I sort of protested that I did not see the need as we would be seeing one another again at the end of the week, but he said:  “Take them anyway, Kevin; I don’t own you nor you me; and who knows, this week you may find that you want to have sex with some other guy you come across; so be prepared.”  I protested that the likelihood was remote, and pooh-poohed the idea that I would actually want fuck another guy during the coming week before I saw Connor again. But as things turned out, Connor was wiser by far than I.  With a new string to my bow I felt much more confident than I had ever felt previously; so during the coming week I learned that I enjoyed another, let me call it “activity”, which I have never even thought about until it happened; but it was one which would condition my future life in a way I had never before envisaged.

Tuesday’s post brought me the glad news that I had been accepted for the naval cadet training course.  The Royal Navy had been much quicker in deciding than we had been told as it was barely a week since we had undergone the selection process. Beside myself with joy, I immediately rang Connor to see if he too had been accepted; to my infinite relief, he had and I felt a huge wave of relief flow over me at this news; at least I would have my friend and lover with me as I set out on my new venture, which would, hopefully change my life and get me off of the dead-end track I now was on.

But the next day enlarged my horizons still further in a totally unexpected way. Wednesday was one of my regular gym nights and as ever I trained alone. However, when I had finished and went into the showers, I did so with a confidence which I had hitherto lacked.  The fact that I had now settled once and for all my sexuality, made me feel much less embarrassed in showing off my “credentials” in front of other other men.  Well on this occasion, I was quite alone as I started washing myself off and then a slightly older guy, a well set up fair-haired type, came in and stood under the shower next to mine. He could have gone to a shower further away; but he didn’t; he came and took the shower directly adjacent to me. I had seen him around a few times but we had never previously spoken.  I could see that he was looking at me intently and that his eyes quickly focussed on my crotch. 

CHAPTER 6

He said: “Hi, we’ve not met before; my name is Jonathan Singleton.”   I realised immediately from the way he spoke that this guy was from a totally different class to me.  I returned his greeting by saying: “Hi! Kevin Pettifer; nice to meet you.” He then offered me his hand to shake, which I accepted and the ice was thereby broken.  I have to say that that the stratum of society from which I come and to which I guess I still belong, does not usually shake hands with strangers; nor with anyone else for that matter; so this was quite a new experience for me and I felt vaguely out of my comfort zone. We finished showering and found ourselves alone together in the changing room and as we both were dressing I somehow sensed that the greeting in the shower was just the beginning and I was right.

“Listen Kevin, I live quite near here, so I just wondered if you might like to come to my place and have a drink before you go home; it would give us a chance to get to know one another better.”  I sort or realised then that I was being picked up; but as Jonathan was a highly attractive looking guy, I thought to myself, well, what the hell; why not?  I had, by now, realised that Jonathan was probably like me: gay. Then just as we were about to leave the gym, I noticed that he was wearing a small gold stud in his right ear.  Now even I knew that earrings, which were still very widely worn by men, really had little to do anymore with the wearer’s sexual orientation; but I did remember that a pierced right ear had originally been a sign that the guy was gay.  So before we left to walk to Jonathan’s place, I was already more or less certain that this was more than a drink that I was letting myself in for.

As we walked along the street, Jonathan told me that he was a junior solicitor in his father’s practice, in which he hoped, one day, to become a partner; but for the moment he was sort of the general dogsbody on whom the more senior staff dumped all the boring stuff they did not want to bother with themselves. I really had not the slightest idea of what a solicitor actually did; so I just listened to him as he talked on and made appropriate noises at what seemed the right moment.  To my surprise we stopped in front of an old office block to which Jonathan had a key. On the wall was a large, highly polished, brass plaque which said:  Singleton, Johnson and Singleton: Solicitors. This was an area of the town where all the buildings were either shops or offices and no one actually lived.  But it turned out that Jonathan was the exception to the rule and lived above the “firm” as he put it. On the third floor there were a number of empty rooms which he had furnished as his bachelor pad. So Jonathan lived in what was for me “isolated splendour” right in the city centre. 

I think that we were both slightly nervous, for both of us knew that more than drinks were on the table; but someone had to make the first move.  Anyway, Jonathan, who was quite a gentleman, offered me a beer, which I accepted and we sat down in his living room just looking at each other. I was about to break the silence when Jonathan suddenly said: “Look Kevin, you’re a man of the world (if only he knew!) So not to beat about the bush, I’m gay myself as I somehow think that you might have guessed and I was sort of hoping that you might be the same. In which case, if you are, I wondered if you might fancy a bit of action.”

So here I was, a newly “minted” gay guy, fresh from my initiation course into the delights of gay sex with Connor, receiving a proposition from a man whom I had just met but whom I found sexually highly attractive.  I had to respond to Jonathan’s overture and so I said, with more confidence than I actually felt:  “Well Jonathan, as the saying goes, “It takes one to know one” and I reckon that we both knew from the moment that we met in the shower that we were  birds of a feather. So, yes Jonathan, I am like you, gay and as we are evidently both footloose and fancy free tonight, what did you have in mind by way of action?  I’m all ears.”

Jonathan looked at me with an expression on his face which somehow managed to combine relief with anxiety; ask me not how I divined this; but there it was. Something told me that he did not want just a simple, straightforward fuck and I was right; he went on to explain that he was not just the normal run-of-the-mill gay, but had a very special need, which he hoped I might fulfil. “You see, Kevin,” he finally began, clearly embarrassed by what he was about to say, “I’m just not one of your regular gays, who enjoys to fuck and to be fucked in turn. I’m what you might call a gay masochist: I like to be punished hard before I have sex with another man.  Open that cupboard over there and look what’s hanging on the door; you’ll see that it’s a rattan cane.  Now what I would really like you do is to take it and beat me hard across my naked arse with it.  I know it probably sounds horrific to you, but that is what I would really like: a good old fashioned beating of the sort I had at public school when I was a boy.”

I was dumfounded by this revelation. I had never thought much about corporal punishment; in fact now I come to think about it, I had never ever thought about corporal punishment at all; the subject had never crossed my mind; and now here I was with a guy whom I had just met and he was asking me to beat the living daylights out of his arse. My first thoughts were that he must be joking: having me on; but he did not let the matter rest there, but pressed his case for me to thrash his naked arse.

“Look here Kevin; just think about it for a moment; you would be doing me a great favour and I think that you might find it a very erotic experience; after all it is not often that a guy asks another guy to thrash him; and I bet you a pound to a penny that if we are both stripped naked for the act, you will enjoy your part as flogger just as much as I will as the flogged. So come on, Kevin; won’t you at least give it a try?  After all, what have you to lose: it’s me that’s going to suffer; although actually it is not suffering for me, as I truly enjoy the pain of the cane as it cuts onto my naked flesh. The problem is to find someone who is willing to go along with it and wield the cane; people are just so squeamish. So come on Kevin; be a sport and do me a favour; at least give it a whirl?”

Jonathan had put me in somewhat of a quandary. If I agreed to do as he asked, I was uncertain in my own mind that when it finally came to the crunch I might find myself unable to wield the cane. Anyway, after a few moments hesitation, I finally agreed “to give it a whirl” as he had put it. And so we both stripped totally naked; he pulled a low chair into the middle of the room and bent across it presenting me what I now saw was a very attractive and fuckable arse to whack. I also noticed that Jonathan was already rigid and his cock was beginning to ooze a few drops of pre-cum in anticipation of what was about to happen to him.

My own cock was, for the moment still totally soft, unmoved by the prospect of what Jonathan had forecast as an erotic experience for me as for the first time in my life, I held a cane in my hand and contemplated what I was about to do.  And it was at that moment as I prepared to apply the first stroke to my partner’s arse, that I felt the first slight stirring of my own cock. Little did I know then that what I was about to visit on Jonathan’s arse, would change my future life in as profound a way as my first meeting with Connor had, just a few days earlier.

I have to say that contemplating Jonathan’s naked backside as I now was, I saw that it was totally unmarked.  Surely if he had been caned recently there would have been some trace.  So I wondered as I steeled myself – and believe me, I really had to pluck up all my courage to give him the first blow –  whether I was to be the first of his “friends” to accede to his wish to be thrashed.  Frankly his backside looked like a virgin, untouched field of deliciously attractive flesh which I was about to defile. What I really wanted to do do was to fuck him hard, there and then; but this was clearly not the moment to try to change the course of the game; so I plucked up my courage, tapped the cane across the middle of Jonathan’s sexy looking rump and gave him what I thought was a resounding first stroke with the cane.

Jonathan’s first reaction was one of disappointment: “Come on Kevin, you can do better than that; that was just a flea-bite; what I want is a really hard beating, So don’t hold back at all, just let it rip and give my arse hell; don’t worry if you break the skin a bit; that is what I want. And take your time too; pause a good few seconds between each stroke to give me time to savour what I have just received.”

And so I went on as requested. By the time I had delivered six strokes, I suddenly became aware of the fact that my own cock had become rock-hard and was already exuding pre-cum. So Jonathan had been right; it was turning into an erotic experience for me.  Then as I continued thrashing the supplicant backside in front of me, I suddenly found that I was enjoying myself; doing something which was giving me a great deal of erotic pleasure;  and so I went on applying stroke after stroke, with maximum force. By the time I had delivered the twelfth stroke I had converted what had been a pristine pair of unblemished buns into what I later learned was referred to as a “well roasted arse”.  Although I did not realise at that moment, the significance of what I had just done, inflicting pain with a cane was later to become one of the things which, like my recent introduction to gay sex with Connor, was to condition my entire future life.

My final stroke delivered, Jonathan slowly pulled himself up from over the chair, turned round, rubbing his arse with both hands, looked at me and said: “Well Kevin, as a first-timer you did pretty well; very well in fact; I really enjoyed that; it was one of the best thrashings I have had in a long time; we should make it a regular event.”  Then he gazed at me, and his eyes fell and focussed themselves directly on my cock, which by now was in a truly aroused state: bigger and more aggressive looking that I had ever seen it until that moment; and to boot, I was dripping pre-cum from my prick like a tap with a broken washer. I see that I have just referred to my penis as my prick; well that was really a very bad choice of word, for the way I looked at that moment, it was anything but a prick, which sort of implies a small needle like implement.  Tonight my cock was more like a ship’s cannon just about to fire its shot.

“There you are,” said Jonathan with admiration in his voice, “Just look at yourself; your cock must tell you just how much you yourself enjoyed that little exercise.  My God, Kevin, you look absolutely superb; and as I forecast, you did find that a highly erotic experience; the state of your cock does not lie; it tells me all I need to know.  So what do you want to do now?”  But before I had time to tell him what I wanted to do to him, he, he went on:  “Kevin, after that sterling effort you deserve a reward.”  And with that, Jonathan then bent back over the chair, spread his legs so that I could see his tight anus and said “Go on Kevin, it’s your turn now; just fuck me as hard as you can; I really enjoy being reamed out by a decent sized tool after I have just been beaten; so go ahead and fuck me just as hard as you can.”

Of course, Jonathan had hit the nail on the head, for I was already in such a state of arousal that there was nothing I wished for more than to force my dick into his arse and give him a real drumming.  Then looking at the state of his backside I wondered how he was going to stand it, for already, just a few minutes after I had finished with the cane, his arse was already a mass of red and blue welts with a few drops of blood here and there where my vigour had broken his skin.

“Well go on; get on with it; there’s a bottle of lubricant in the cupboard over there so just lube us both up and get to work; don’t be shy; I need fucking just as much as you need to fuck me.” Caution was thrown to the wind as I gave my cock a good coating of the lubricant and applied a generous amount to his anus before attempting to force my cock into his hole.  No sooner had I begun my efforts, than I remembered what Connor had told me; I did, in fact have a packet or rubbers in my trousers’ pocket, but I was just too far caught up by the eroticism of the whole situation, that I ignored his advice and prepared to penetrate Jonathan’s sphincter with my naked cock.

And there I encountered my first difficulty. Remember that I was a newly minted gay, so to speak, whose only experience hitherto had been with Connor, with whom I had, at his insistence, always used a condom. You may remember also that I told you earlier that my penis was endowed with a large and floppy foreskin.  Well that fucking useless piece of flesh flopped around and made it difficult for me to force my entry via Jonathan’s very tight little arsehole, into his inner sanctum.  Finally in utter desperation, I rolled the offending foreskin back so that it was held behind the rim of my cock head, much like a rolled up condom in its unused state and was able, by so doing, finally to commune with my partner.

This was my first experience of sex with another person after Connor; additionally it was my first time “bare-back”: not using a rubber and what an experience that was.  It was not very comfortable at all for me as that offending foreskin remained like a tight rubber ring behind my cock-head which made the sexual act somewhat painful. But I was just so aroused that I bashed on regardless as I desperately wanted to reach orgasm. In fact I could not stop myself as I simply had to satisfy my own urgent need to climax and shoot my sperm. Judging from the appreciative noises emanating from Jonathan, he too was clearly enjoyed what was happening to him, so that when I finally climaxed and shot my massive load into Jonathan’s rectum, he simultaneously discharged his own load all over the floor beneath the chair. It was then that I saw that my caning had only aroused Jonathan and that the act of punishment had not brought him to a climax. He had still needed the proper act of anal intercourse to satisfy him as much as I myself had needed to fuck him to complete the experience. I asked myself what I would have done if Jonathan had not invited me to fuck him. I guess that I would have been so aroused that I would have attempted to do so anyway; frankly looking back on the incident now, I doubt that I could have stopped myself to raping the guy; I was just so aroused and could not have controlled myself; such is the force of the sex urge.

So the evening with Jonathan so far had taught me two important lessons; one was that I actually enjoyed thrashing another man’s naked arse; and two; that I would just have to get rid of my foreskin which had nearly led to an embarrassing disaster.  I had seen on the internet when I looked at male porn sites that practically all the performers had been circumcised. So even though I dreaded having to undergo the act, I just knew that I would have to bite the bullet and submit my most precious possession to the knife.  And in my heart I knew that I thought that a well-circumcised cock with a head well defined by a clear rim was infinitely more attractive than leaving it the way nature had made it. So it just had to be done.

As we paused for breath after my onslaught (there is no better word, as I had fucked him like a man possessed) on Jonathan’s hole, I wondered what was coming next. Did the guy now want to give me a return match and fuck me?  I did not have long to wait to find out for Jonathan was very straightforward and said what he thought.  Much to my surprise, it turned out that Jonathan was what is known as a “bottom”  and a rather kinky one at that. His idea of heaven was to get someone to thrash his arse and then fuck him; after that he was satisfied. He had no wish at all to exercise his own cock on his partner. And so my vigorously heroic effort on his hole was both the high and end point of the evening. He did, however, suggest that I stay the night and sleep alongside him in what was a very comfortable bed; which invitation I accepted. I left early next morning feeling very contented, in time for my job at the supermarket.  And that was the first of a series of weekly evenings with him at which I went through the same procedure until the end of the year when I left the area for ever and joined the Royal Navy as a cadet.

CHAPTER 7

Connor had suggested that this coming weekend we might go to a gay club together: “You might like to meet some of the guys I know and get yourself more used to life as a gay stud. So make sure you bring some casual clothing when you come on Friday night. We can’t go clubbing in the sort of formal suits we had both worn for the naval interviews.”  I had not been sure that I wanted to meet a lot of other guys when he first made the suggestion; but after my experiences with Jonathan, I thought better of it. As I didn’t have much by way of decent casual gear, I needed to buy some new kit; and so on Thursday evening I went to what I knew was reputed to be the “hottest” men’s clothing shop, a place called Just Men, which remained open until seven every evening.

I was later than I had intended getting there and when I arrived, apart from the young shop assistant, the place was empty.  Anyway, I wanted to get myself a pair of well fitting jeans; so started looking over the racks of merchandise available when the young guy came over and asked me if I needed any help.  I have to say that until that moment I had not really noticed him, other than to register that he was there; but now I saw before me an attractive young man, dressed in the latest fashion. He really was a stunning guy and I guessed immediately that he was probably gay and was not afraid to dress the part, for I had by now realised that Just Men was a gay emporium. He was not much older than me and had a good figure set off by the fashionable clothes he was wearing. His name was apparently Clive, as he wore a badge to that effect.

So I told him that I was looking for a couple of pairs of well cut jeans and perhaps a shirt or too.  He looked me over; and as was so often the case, I saw his gaze rapidly descend and come to rest on my crotch, which even in my work clothes, made its considerable presence evident. I for my part found myself looking him over and wondering what he would look like stripped of the kit he was wearing; even fully dressed as he was, I could see that he had a great figure, which was clearly the result of some physical effort.  And already, although we had only just met, I could see where things were going. Just looking at the guy, I felt my own cock stirring, telling me what it wanted.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve just got a new delivery of real cutting edge, stone-washed jeans delivered. So, if you really want the latest in figure fitting pants, they might just be up your street.” And then to progress things in a way which I sensed we both wanted, he went on; “Look, they’re in the back room, so just let me lock up the shop as it’s just about closing time and then you can take a look for yourself. I’ll be happy to show you everything I’ve got.”  So there it was: a highly ambiguous remark, but clearly a proposition without words.  I was really excited by the way things were developing, as it was by now evident, after just a few minutes together, that this guy had the hots for me; and I suppose, looking at me, he realised too that the feeling was reciprocated; so I just went along with his suggestion.

But on what was probably, if I was not badly mistaken, going to be the third sexual encounter of my life, I had already decided in my own mind that I would take the lead.  We had not even exchanged names as we went into the back room, but Clive, true to his word, started showing me me some rather expensive but beautifully cut jeans made by a firm called ABC Fashions for Men. He had received a shop display placard with the consignment, which showed a stunning, muscular young stud, clearly well endowed where it mattered most, stripped to the waist, wearing a pair of ABC’s latest fashion offering, into which he seemed to have been poured.  I could feel myself getting harder and harder just looking at the picture on the placard. 

Mike handed me a pair of the jeans which he said were my size and suggested that I try them on; and so, without any embarrassment, I stepped out of my work jeans and gave him a good view of my bulging package concealed by a pair of Y fronts, as I tried on the proffered ABC jeans; And I have to say, that they felt absolutely superb and looking at myself in a long mirror on one wall of that backroom, I saw that these pants, were the very thing I was looking for. They hugged my arse perfectly and had been cut in the crotch to allow the wearer to make the best of his assets; they seemed just perfect for a night out at a gay club.

As I was trying on the jeans I could see Clive could, not take his eyes of my crotch and as I took them off I decided that I would make the first move.  So with the jeans in my hand and with my cock clearly hard and almost bursting out from my Y fronts as he could see, I said to him: “Clive, correct me if I am wrong, but I get the impression that you might be looking for some action; am I right?”  I could see that my question had clearly caught him unawares as I went on: “Clive, you have had your eyes glued on my crotch practically since I first came into the shop and to judge from your own bulge, you appear to have got the hots for me.  I am right aren’t I?”

“Hell man, you sure don’t waste time in cutting to the chase, do you?  And you are dead right; I really would like to get together with you. How about you? Do you fancy me as much as I have to confess I fancy you?   But that’s a stupid question as just looking at you I reckon your cock is telling both you and me all we both need to know. So as we both seem to want the same thing, what are we waiting for; we only need to settle who does what first and then just let’s do it.”

Pantless as I already was, I threw the jeans to one side, pulled off my shirt and dropped my underpants and let Clive see me naked and ready.  He gulped as he finally saw what had been the hidden object of his attention ever since I entered the shop.  “My God, man, you are absolutely superb; how the fuck did you manage to develop that monument between your legs; I have never ever seen anything quite so big and lusciously desirable.”

Without asking him what he wanted to do, I stepped forward decisively, pulled off his shirt over his head, and started unbuckling his belt. By this time, Clive needed no further encouragement as he eagerly stripped off completely to show me a highly attractive muscular figure with a nice cock poised ready for action; I was secretly pleased that my meat was much bigger than his. The two of us, each rock hard, stood there looking at each other before, taking the lead, I pushed him towards a table which stood against the wall and forced him gently onto his back. I then told him to put his feet on the edge of the table and spread his legs. I reached across to the back-pocket of my discarded trousers and and fished out the packet of condoms and lube which Connor had very wisely insisted on giving me; I rolled a rubber on my cock and applied a generous dose of lube from the little sachet which came with the pack, before turning my attention the Clive’s anus.

Clive gazed on in amazement and said: “Jesus man, you really come well equipped, don’t you; I didn’t realise that you were such a pro. when you walked into the shop; but I did know that I wanted to have sex with you from the moment I saw you.”  As I gave Clive’s hole and surrounding area a good dose of lube, I saw that his arse was completely hairless, and that he had clearly shaved off  his pubic hair.  I have to say that I found this all very attractive. Then I prepared myself to penetrate him by pulling his legs over my shoulders and pressing my cock firmly against is tight little sphincter. As he relaxed, my cock slid smoothly inside in and I let him feel my full length.  Then as ever, with increasing force and longer thrusts, I proceeded to give Clive a truly thorough fuck. My experience with Jonathan had reinforced my confidence and I felt no need at all to hold back in my ministrations to Clive’s arse. As I sensed he was approaching his climax, I held myself back until I knew that he too was ready to cum and at the last moment withdrew myself completely from him only to give him one last final monumental thrust as I allowed myself to climax and shoot my load deep inside him. For me it was a heavenly moment and I guess it was the same for him as he sprayed his own sperm over both of us.

Once we had paused I did not ask him what he wanted, but pulled of the first condom which was almost bursting with my cream and rolled on a fresh rubber. Then I  pulled him to his feet off the table where he still lay on his back, swung him round and forced him to bend over table;  I guess he wanted me to fuck him again which is just as well as there was no stopping me now in the aroused state I was.  But Clive automatically spread his legs to give me rear access to his anus, into which I thrust my rock-hard tool yet again. This was the first time I had had sex standing up and I have to say that I really liked the position; it allowed me to use greater force in my pounding of his hole.  Time and time again I withdrew my cock completely only to thrust it back again with even greater force.  Clive moaned with pleasure as I brought him to his second climax and once again we both shot our loads simultaneously before I fell across him exhausted by my efforts.

“Jeezuz man, you really are one hell of a pro with your cock.” He said. “I have never ever had such an incredible fuck in my life; and you can believe me when I tell you I’ve taken a lot of man-meat up my hole recently; but you man, are in a league of your own: an absolute ace of a cocksman. You succeeded in bringing me to orgasm twice which is something I have never experienced before; usually when a guy fucks me, he cums himself and then I have to finish the act by jerking myself off.  But you did it all for me; how the fuck do you do it? Anyway Kevin, what do you want me to do for you now? All work and no play make Jack a dull boy and frankly if anyone deserves to play it’s you. But what exactly do you want? Just say the word and if I can do it for you I will.”

Can you imagine how I felt being showered with this fulsome praise? My God, here I was being held up as the acme of gay copulators by Clive who had no idea that he was only the third guy with whom I had ever had sex.  But there was no reason to disabuse him of his views as I had clearly pushed all his buttons.  And I have to say, it set me thinking, as I wondered if I was what might I suppose be called a “natural” in the art of anal copulation.  Did such a concept exist, I wondered.  Certainly I had got over my initial inhibitions and to judge from Clive’s laudatory remarks, I was apparently exceptionally adept with my cock. Of course, there was the size of my tool; few guys of my age – or of any age, now I come to think about it – were as well endowed as I was. With no false modesty, I knew that my cock, both  soft or hard,  was an impressive sight. And let’s face it a good sized fuck-stick, which is what I possessed, is the dream of most men; it is a simple as that; a big cock gives the owner confidence and earns him the respect of others. But the immediate question was: what did Clive want to do for me?

I alone knew that in my limited sexual experience, only one of my three partners to date, Connor, had actually had access to my hole. It was only with Connor that I had played the role of both top and bottom, for with Jonathan and Clive I had acted so far only as a top. Of course with Connor, my first partner, it had been he who initiated me into the joys of gay sex which he had done by fucking my arse. So I thought that it was time to let Clive have access to my anus and so that I could experience what it felt like to be shafted by another guy. Accordingly, I suggested that to Clive that he might now like to fuck me and let me relax a little while he did the work.

Clive was eager to oblige, of course, but then he he started to say that he doubted that he could satisfy me in the way I had done for him. I had seen, had I not, that he was not as well equipped as I was and it might be a letdown for me. Clive was still evidently under the illusion that in me he was in the presence of copulative greatness; and he went on and on, basically running down his own capabilities and talking himself out of doing anything at all. As we stood there, still stark naked, both of is with fully erect cocks, gazing at one another, I finally decided that I would again play the dominant role and said to him:  “Listen Clive, cut the cackle, just roll on a rubber, lube up your cock and my arse and get on with the job of fucking me, which is what I want you to do, And with that I bent myself across the table spread my legs and waited.” 

Faced with what amounted to an order, Clive knuckled down and did as I had said and a few moments later I felt his cock-head pushing against my sphincter; as I had predicted, to myself, all went well and Clive, in spite of his misgivings about himself, proved very adept at anal intercourse even though he did not manage to bring me to orgasm.  But I enjoyed being fucked by my second partner ever. I was happy in the knowledge that I was equally at home in playing both the main roles of gay sex: I liked fucking butt as well as having my own butt fucked.

Thus ended my impromptu evening of sex with Clive in the Just Men clothing shop. We sat around naked for a while drinking beer which which Clive produced from a small fridge. He then told me that if I really wanted to make the most of the jeans I had just bought, I should ditch my Y fronts and wear just a backless thong beneath them.  He explained how the normal briefs with their elasticised leg bands spoiled the smooth lines of a stud’s buttocks as one could see the band beneath the fabric of the jeans. “In fact,” he added, “You really ought to wear a thong all the time as they support your package better and make sure that you make the most of your bulge. After all, you are truly well equipped and so you owe it to yourself to make the most of what you have; at least that’s my view!”  I have to say that I wondered how my boss at the supermarket would react if I rolled up for work in a pair of super-sexy, arse-hugging jeans with a tight crotch.  ABC Huggers is what Clive called them, adding that he thought that they should be called “Arse, Ball and Cock Huggers” for that’s exactly what they did. Actually I did feel really good wearing them as they did wonders for my self-esteem.

CHAPTER 8  

Friday night saw me with Connor again and we were all over each other from the moment I arrived. Joyful in the knowledge that we had both been accepted for the Naval Cadet Training Course, we spent the entire evening having some form of sex with each other. I hesitated before telling Connor about what I called my “adventures” during the week, but I finally came clean to him about my sessions with Jonathan and Clive. He was not at all possessive about me; as my mentor and teacher he did not in any way treat me as being someone whom he owned sexually. Quite the contrary, in fact, as he gave himself a pat on the back as he said: “Well there you are Kevin; you see now how right I was in giving you some rubbers to take with you last week; I told you that you never knew when you might need them and you did.”

As we climbed into bed with each other, Connor told me that tomorrow evening he planned to enlarge my sexual horizon, by taking me to his favourite club, where he intended to introduce me to some of his friends and the concept of group sex.” You’ll see,” he said, “We’ll have an absolute ball.”  But even though I felt much more confident than I had a week ago, I admit that I had a sight queasy feeling as I wondered about what was going to happen at the club and whether I, as a newcomer, would fit in and be accepted by his old crowd; and what exactly did group-sex imply? Who did what and to whom?  Would I like it or would I be like a fish out of water? And with that thought in mind, I fell asleep.

I have to say that the next day, Saturday, we managed to be sexually totally abstemious during the day; Had Connor made the first move, I know I would have succumbed to his advances as I really enjoyed having sex with him at any time of the day; but he made no move and I guess he thought that we should save ourselves for the pleasures which awaited us at the club.  Early that evening I changed into the the kit I had bought at the Just Men shop. I had not shown Connor my outfit until then and he gave me a wolf whistle when he saw the way I looked.  I was not sure, looking at myself in his long mirror that I would have dared go out in public other than to a gay club, kitted out as I now was. 

The ABC Huggers really did fit like a glove and I could see that my buttocks, which were really well muscled, looked terrific with the jeans stretched tightly across them. And I did wear a thong as Clive had suggested, so that I showed a very smooth arse line to attract any admirer. And the front view was equally alluring, as the jeans hugged my crotch beautifully and left no doubt to any observer that they housed an important package.  But also the shirt I had bought at the same time was figure-fitting.  It was designed to be worn without any under-shirt and was open from the neck down for about three buttons’ it stretched tightly across my muscular pecs, showing of my nipples in a very attractive way.

So all in all in this new kit, I presented myself as a very attractive package to any gay observer; in a word, I just oozed sex from every angle. I have to say that I felt very daring wearing such sexy looking clothes; but what the hell; we were going to a gay club where sex was surely the main attraction to the customers.  Connor looked at me and said that he thought I looked superb; he then rummaged around in a drawer and produced a gold chain, which he handed to me and suggested that I wear it around my neck.  I put it on and sure enough just that one bit of jewellery completed what was was really a very stunning outfit.  Connor changed into his clubbing clothes and he looked very sexy too.  So there we were, a sexy looking pair of young studs, ready to go and enjoy the delights the gay club had to offer.

But I still could not shake off the nagging feeling that I might not be able to perform. To date my few sexual encounters – three to be precise – had been one-on-one and I had no idea how I would perform in a group.  I said nothing to Connor about my fears but prayed to myself that everything would be OK and that I would not mess up as I did not want Connor’s friends to think that he had taken up with a lemon. My one comfort was that I knew that few if any of the guys I was about to meet for the first time at the club would have quite such a generous endowment as mine between their legs. I just prayed that when push came to shove that my cock would rise to the occasion; for as you all know, a man’s cock has its own agenda and cannot always be controlled by its owner. And it was with me in that mood of slightly nervous tension, that we later set off for the club which was in the town centre.

It was about nine when we arrived at the club, which was already quite busy. It was the first time that I had ever experienced what I suppose must be described a social gathering, where only young men were present.  Some guy was operating a discotheque and quite few studs were dancing with one another on a small dance-floor. Connor led me straight to the bar, where he was greeted by two of his friends who were called Colin and Stan, to whom I was introduced as a new friend.  Judging by the appearance of these two studs, Connor had an eye for the muscular weld-developed physiques, for both guys clearly looked after their bodies which testified to regular gym workouts. I also saw that they both were wearing clothes which emphasised their undoubted physical attributes and I was relieved that I too was kitted out in gear suitable for the surroundings and the occasion.

The eyes of both guys quickly descended and became glued on my crotch, which, let’s face it, is that part of a guy’s anatomy which most interests other gays,  I don’t  know if I was deluding myself but I saw what I thought was a look of admiration tinged with lust in both their eyes.  But my thoughts were broken by the arrival of Connor’s two other friends, John and Peter, both of whom were cast in the same mould as Colin and Stan. So it was clear that Connor chose his friends from that select group of young men, to which I myself belonged: guys who looked after their bodies and were not ashamed or embarrassed to show off their physical assets. So there we were:  a group of six muscular young studs all of whom, to judge from their bulging crotches were sexually well-equipped: five friends who were clearly at ease with each other and me as a newcomer. 

But the nervousness I had felt earlier did not go away and I wondered what was going to happen. Anyway we all stood around talking and drinking for about an hour whilst Stan and John danced together.  By this time the place was seething with male bodies some of whom were beginning to shed items of their clothing; I wondered if they intended to have sex there and then in front of everyone; but I did not have time to see whether I was right, for Colin motioned to us to follow him down a corridor of which led a series of private rooms, into one of which, clearly reserved for us, the six of us went.  The fatidic moment had clearly arrived, where we were about to embark on some form of sexual action; but I still had no idea at all what we were going to do.  Connor, ever reassuring, told me not to worry; everything would be OK and I would have the time of my life.  I have to say I wished I had felt as sure about things as he obviously did.

In every group there is there is always one person who plays the role of leader and it was Colin who was clearly the Alpha Male on this occasion.  He said: “Well guys, we have a newcomer with us tonight: Connor’s new friend, Kevin; so I think that we should give him our customary welcome into our group and make him feel at home; make him feel that he is one of us in fact, so that he can relax and join fully in the evening’s activities.” And with that he started stripping off, with everyone else, me included, following suite. Although I did feel vaguely embarrassed in being naked in front of a group of guys I did not know, there seemed little else that I could have done; and anyway, I did not want to let Connor down in front of his friends.  So I wondered want the “customary welcome” I was about to enjoy would consist of. In the event I did not have long to wait to find out.

The warnings of safe sex had been taken to heart by my new friends and I found myself rolling on a rubber, handed round by Colin from a box on the table.  I sighed inwardly with relief that my cock had decided to behave itself and had, in the highly homoerotic environment I found myself, stood fully to attention and was at an aggressive 45 degree angle to my stomach. A quick glance around at my companions confirmed the fact that if anyone had the Alpha Cock on that occasion it was me.  I knew by now that I was exceptionally well endowed where it counts most and I also sensed that all eyes were focussed on the new guy’s man-meat; this was confirmed by Colin emitting a loud, appreciative whistle as he surveyed my endowment.   But prepared as we now all were to copulate – all the others were just as hard as I myself was – I still did not know what was going to happen. As ever it was Connor who took me in hand as he led me to the table, telling me to bend across it so that he could lube up my sphincter for intercourse. Once I was fully lubed, Connor finally spilled the beans and told me going to happen.

“Look upon what we are going to do to you, Kevin, as a sort of sexual handshake of welcome; each of us turn will very gently fuck your hole; in that way you will know what each of us feels like; But don’t worry; we will each give you only six thrusts of our cock; and then when we have done, you will do that same to each of; each of us in turn will offer you our sphincters to stretch. That way you will really fell that you belong to the group, as you will have had both anal and personal cock contact with each guy.  Then you will be truly initiated and we can enjoy some really serious sex together. I didn’t want to tell you all this beforehand, as I thought the prospect of being serially fucked might scare the living daylights out of you. But don’t worry; you will see that it is all OK; and believe me, you will ultimately enjoy every moment of it. Just trust me as you always have up to now.”

Comforted, which I suppose I was, by this explanation of what I was now to undergo and bent across the table with my legs spread and my arse ready for anyone and everyone, what could I do?  In fact, I suddenly found that  I had lost the fear of the unknown as I rationalised that all that was about to happen was that I was about to take five different cocks up my arse in quick succession; And then I would have the pleasure of being able to do the same to them. So I just resigned myself to the inevitable. One really could not call what was about to happen rape, as I was tacitly agreeing to it. So there it was: a totally new experience and so I simply decided to sit back and enjoy it. And enjoy it I did as I enjoyed both being fucked as much as the act performing the act of fucking myself.

The act of what I suppose might best be described as one of sequential copulation, was started by Connor who thrust his cock as deeply as he could inside me and then gave me six, good, hard thrusts before withdrawing and handing over to John. He did the same followed successively three others; in each case I received the same six, firm thrusts which really did seem like the sexual equivalent of a welcoming handshake. So far it was all exactly as had been described to me by Connor  and after the second guy  had fucked me, I found that I had become totally relaxed and was truly enjoying the experience, which I mentally tagged as of being sort of “gang banged” even though it wasn’t at all like that. It was Colin, the de facto group leader, who came last and he did exactly as had done the others and gave me six deep thrusts before withdrawing.  So far no one had actually climaxed; it had all been just as Connor had said: a sort welcoming fuck from each guy. 

But now as Colin prepared to end the proceedings, I suddenly felt that I wanted someone to go the whole way and fuck me to climax.  So, for the first time, taking my immediate destiny in my own hands, I said to Colin: “Colin, don’t stop there. Just go on and fuck me properly so that we both reach orgasm; God alone knows, but after five guys pumping at my arse, I sure as hell need to go to completion.”  Needless to say, Colin did not need any encouragement as he did as I had asked and proceeded to give me a proper vigorous fuck, whilst the others looked on; I suppose in envy. It all ended in an explosive climax for both him and me, as we each simultaneously jerked out our cream in seemingly endless amounts in those few brief moments of that incomparable, exquisite sensation which we call orgasm.

After a slight pause and a change of condoms, at least for Colin and me, the five of them honoured the bargain and each in turn allowed me to fuck him. I lubed up Connor myself as he was the first on my list and when I had done with him he did the honours and lubed up each of his friends in turn as I passed from one to the other, giving them their “sexual handshake”  Colin was again the last and he said to me: “Do me a favour, Kevin, and forget that this is an introductory  fuck; just fuck me as hard as you can as I really want to experience your cock before it gets worn out by later exertions.  You really do have a monument of a tool you know; I don’t know how the others feel, but I for one am green with envy; you are a great and welcome addition to our group.” So I obliged Colin by giving him my very best attention, which was, of course my first full and proper fuck of the evening. At the end of my efforts, we both manage to climax together yet again and God alone knows where the sperm came from; but anyway it did and in torrents.

But that was just my introduction to group sex; so for the next two hours or so, as we were all now totally relaxed and at ease with one another, we indulged in every conceivable form of gay sexual intercourse; as three couples one-on-one and then changing partners  until we had all fucked and been fucked by each other; in an cock-to-arse daisy-chain formation; when after the first climax, the guy at the head of the chain moved to the last position and gave the rear guy the benefit of his cock, until everyone had fucked and been fucked: in free style one-on-one unions where one guy lay flat on his back on the table whilst the other took his legs over his shoulders  and proceeded to hammer his arse in the mission position, with another guy waiting on the sidelines for his turn to take over; the same scenario except in the doggy position, where the guys took turns to ream out the waiting arse of the guy kneeling there.

Looking back it was amazing how much stamina we all had. But we were all muscular, well equipped young studs and we just revelled in the undoubted joys of gay sex. And why not? A more staid onlooker might have found us depraved; but we were all over eighteen years of age and everything we did, however, bizarre, was consensual and in private; we offended no public sensibilities and hurt no one; we were just a group of gay, sexually active, young studs enjoying our freedom in private.  So it was about three in the morning when my introduction to group-sex ended and Connor and I found a taxi to take us back to his house, where we fell exhausted into bed together where we slept until early Sunday afternoon.

That afternoon as we lay there together in bed, I told Connor that I was going to have myself circumcised. “Your cock looks so much better than mine, Connor. I have thought for some time that all that floppy foreskin which I have is a real impediment to easy and comfortable anal sex and so I have finally decided the bite the bullet and get it done.  But let me just tell you that although my mind is made up, I am still absolutely shit scared at the thought of someone taking a knife to my penis.”

“Well, Kevin, you have such a magnificent tool that I would never have dared tell you, but the fact that you still have all that foreskin really is a distraction. So bravo; I think it’s a great idea and I suspect that it will not only make penetration more comfortable but you will find that you enjoy fucking much more. Now listen; in Leeds as you possibly know, we have a big Jewish community, all of whose male members are cut. So there are quite a number of highly experienced Jewish surgeons around, one of whom, in my view would be the ideal choice. Mine, by the way, was done when I was a baby; ask me not why; but I have to say that I have never regretted being cut. My own view is that if a guy has a decent sized cock it looks so much better cut than uncut.  And, as you well know, you do have a tool which makes most guys, including me, green with envy; I saw the way the guys looked at you last night; they were just salivating at the thought of what you might do to them. So just let me ask around and see if I can come up with a surgeon for you.”

Back in Bradford during the following week, I saw both Jonathan and Clive again. Jonathan and I met up at the gym on Wednesday evening and then we went back to his place, where I had the pleasure of thrashing and fucking his delightful arse for a second time.   The first time we had met I had begun to appreciate just how much I enjoyed wielding the cane; but I now had to admit to myself that I just loved laying on the cane to Clive’s naked arse. Add to this the icing on the cake, which was that he wanted me to fuck him immediately afterwards, which I did with great pleasure. The only disappointment in our relationship, which became a weekly event until I finally left the area to join the Naval Cadet course, was that Jonathan was never inclined to use his cock on me. But my brief apprenticeship with the cane, was to serve for the role I later came to play in my naval career.

I dropped by Just Men, ostensibly to tell Clive just how much I enjoyed wearing the clothes I had bought from him; but of course, as I had hoped, we spent the later evening in an intense bout of sex. This relationship with Clive, I also continued until I left the area.  I have to say that I truly appreciated both Jonathan and Clive as sex partners during the week, for as time passed I felt an increasing need for regular sex and what I would have done during the week without them I do not know; they became two friends where, to use a nautical term, I just loved to dock my cock.

True to his word, next weekend, when I arrived at Connor’s place he had found a surgeon for me who was to my great surprise willing to see me on Sunday morning. Connor explained that the Jews took Friday and Saturday off, for religious reasons and many of them worked on Sunday.  So off we went to the practice where Dr. Goldberg worked, with Connor metaphorically holding my hand. In retrospect if he had not been there, I would probably have chickened out of it; but with his support I went.  Dr. Goldberg examined my cock and concurred that I would be better off without the offending appendage.

I was expecting to be given an appointment for the operation, but not a bit of it. He said that he could do it there and then. I went hot and cold and a feeling of panic seized me. If Connor had not been there, I suspect I might have run out of the surgery. But twenty minutes later, after a totally painless procedure, I left Dr. Goldberg and his surgery fully circumcised. He did a great job as he removed every last last bit of offending skin so that my cock-head was put in full relief, reminiscent of a German, metal, wartime helmet and was set off superbly by a well defined rim from the shaft itself.

There were not even any stitches as the doctor had used a haemostat.  But he told me, with a stern smile, that I had to refrain from any sex for the next ten days. But each of those two weekends, Connor very gently tended to my anal needs in his customary fashion, so I was not totally sex starved. We did not go to the club for the next two weeks, but but when I made my next appearance there, I was truly proud of my modified kit and my new friends were clearly delighted with my appearance. I now had a penis which was truly up there with there with the Alphas.  I cannot tell you how much more confident I felt now that that troublesome piece of flesh had gone.

Looking back on my sexual development since that day just a few brief months ago, when Connor and I had first met at the naval evaluation in Dartmouth and I, a timid gay virgin, had been introduced by him to the delights of gay, male sex, my whole outlook on life had changed.  Thanks basically to Connor, I was now a fully confident young gay stud, who was no longer afraid of other meeting other gay men. Confident that I had not only an attractive body, but also a cock which was the envy of all who saw it, I felt ready for any sexual challenge which might come along, I had learned a great deal from those Saturday evenings at the club in Leeds and I now revelled in the sex act and could no longer live without it.

My life continued much as it had been until the end of the year when Connor and I packed our respective bags and headed south to join the Naval Cadet Training Course. I said farewell to both Jonathan and Clive, both of whose company I had much enjoyed for just a few weeks; I never saw either of them again, as I never again returned to Bradford. In mid-January, Connor and I again boarded train from Leeds to Exeter to begin a new phase in both our lives. We had both managed, by dint of perseverance, to pull ourselves out of dead-end jobs and now it was up to us to make the most of this opportunity which the Royal Navy offered us. And for two confessed gay young studs, could there be a better place? What happened after our arrival in Dartmouth and the training course is the subject of the next story about Connor and me.

THE END

You should now read:  

Pettifer: The Gay Disciplinarian