What Makes A Man?

A few weeks before my seventeenth birthday, I found myself attending a new school in grade eleven. I won’t go into specifics about the events leading up to this occurrence, suffice to say that my dad had caught me in a compromising situation with my best friend, Billy. Deciding that he needed to make a man out of me I was enrolled in a ‘boy’s only’ boarding school.

There were four hundred boys at the school who were divided up into four separate houses. Each of the four double-storey blocks contained one hundred pupils ranging from grade eight to grade twelve. Downstairs, in each of the buildings, there were three large dormitories with twenty beds for the three junior grades. Upstairs, the two senior grades, eleven and twelve, were accommodated in seven dormitories each containing five beds. The five house prefects and the three house masters each had their individual rooms. Every house also had identical ablution areas on both floors, juniors downstairs, and seniors upstairs.

All four hundred pupils were fed in a communal dining room containing forty tables. Each table consisted of ten scholars, two from each of the five grades.

Jeff Foster was one of the grade twelves at our table and was nineteen years old. He was repeating grade twelve, having failed the year before. Jeff was six-foot-four tall and one of the star performers in our rugby side. Jeff had an affable nature and wasn’t as hectic most of the other grade twelve seniors.

Meal times could sometimes be a little rough for the skivvies (grade eights), but the atmosphere at our dining table was always very relaxed.

Jeff was fairly unattractive. He had large droopy eyes, a broad nose, and a mouth that always hung slightly open giving him a somewhat dopey expression. Jeff also had an acne problem and the skin on his face, upper back, and chest bore the evidence of his burden. Jeff, however, was scrupulously clean and showered twice a day to alleviate the problems that his oily skin caused him. I really felt sorry for the embarrassment that this condition triggered for him.

Most guys only showered once a day after sport in the afternoon. Although very few guys showered in the morning, I would not miss this ritual for the world. Straight boys had no shame when it came to morning-glories and would simply walk into the shower area with erect cocks as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Naturally, having discovered this and being the cock-hound that I was, I never missed a morning shower for the following two years.

Jeff always showered in the morning, as you would expect, and always sought the help of someone to wash his back. Understandably, there weren’t too many volunteers.

Early on I offered my services in this regard and thereafter, became his official back washer. Jeff had a beautiful body with the most magnificent huge hands and feet. His cock was awesome and he was definitely one of the frontrunners in the size department at the school. I frequently had a really hard time (no pun intended), not popping a boner as I washed his back.

On the day of my seventieth birthday, my mom and dad visited me at school. My mom brought along a huge cake that I shared with the guys at our dining table that evening. Before supper ended Jeff looked at me and smiled. As he thanked me for the delicious cake, I felt his hand give my leg a squeeze under the table. The gaze in his eyes sent shivers throughout my body, but I simply cautioned myself that I may have read too much into that look.

The following evening, I awoke at around midnight in sore need of a piss. I made my way to the upstairs bathroom area, before standing on the raised cement platform at the urinal. As I was finishing off I heard a voice behind me.

Shocked, I was about to spin around when hands gripped hold of my sides anchoring me. “Don’t turn,” the voice amused voice commanded, “I don’t want you to piss on me.” It was Jeff.

“Did you give your knob a good shake as your daddy taught you?” he asked.

I was stunned as I felt his hand move around my body and take hold of my dick. As he began shaking my cock I got an instant boner.

“Whoa, Dale,” he sniggered, “That’s a nice stiffy you’ve got there.”

With Jeff’s hot breath on my neck, I shivered with excitement as his huge hand fondled my dick. Entranced, I just stood there like a frozen deer caught in the headlights. After letting go of my cock, he climbed onto the step next to me to relieve himself. When his steam ended he took hold of my hand and moved it onto his knob.

“Aren’t you also going to help me out?” he asked.

As I shook his hardening cock he leaned over and lightly kissed me.

“Follow me,” he then advised after several moments.

Next, as we made our way back towards our dormitories, Jeff stopped en-route at the laundry room and opened the door. After we passed by four large baskets for dirty laundry on either side of us, we moved through to the room beyond. In this room, there was a large rectangular sorting table for the redistribution of clean washing. The room also had shelving on either side where all the extra linen and blankets were kept. A strong outside light illuminated this room rather well.

Jeff moved my body up against the table before he began kissing me. I was literally shivering with excitement as our bodies embraced. With our lips locked, we began fondling one another’s cocks as our pyjama shorts were pushed down. Neither of us lasted too long before we commenced shooting our loads all over the laundry floor. I would have loved to suck his dick but it had all happened too quickly. Jeff then retrieved a soiled shirt from one of the baskets next door, before mopping up our mess. Afterward, before we opened the door to leave Jeff gave me another kiss.

As I lay in bed, my body tingled with pleasure as I replayed what had just happened.

‘Was it a one-off?’ I pondered.

The following morning, Jeff gave me a naughty wink prior to his regular backwashing ritual in the showers.

During all three meals that day, my knee also got what would now become a routine squeeze.

That evening, regrettably nothing further happened with Jeff.

The following night, however, I was gently awoken by him. He stood next to my bed with his finger over his lips in a shush gesture. I followed willingly and soon found myself in the laundry room once more.

“Let’s take it easier this time, I don’t want to cum too quickly,” he advised.

Our kissing immediately got underway, but our mutual masturbation was far less frenzied and we frequently warned one another when our excitement got to close. I, however, determined to taste his cock.

When I finally sank to my knees Jeff looked at me questioningly. As I gripped hold of his knob he asked, “Are you sure buddy?”

“Yes, please let me suck you off,” I pleaded.

Jeff needed no second invitation and soon his hands took control of my head. Given the size of his knob the blowjob turned out to be somewhat of an ordeal, but we finally worked things out and I was able to accommodate at least half of his dick. Jeff loved my oral attention and kept whispering his satisfaction. I tugged at my knob during our engagement and when Jeff finally unloaded, the taste of his abundant spunk also sent me over the edge.

With a perplexed look on his face afterward, Jeff asked, “Did you enjoy that?”

“Yes, it was brilliant,” I gushed.

Jeff’s frown turned into a smile before he answered, “Cool!” After I had mopped up my mess with a dirty shirt from next door, we again kissed before heading off to bed.

Our ‘love affair’ got into full swing after this and would endure for the rest of the year. Naturally, both of us always worried about being caught, but fortunately, this never happened.

Our next encounter was even better, and having placed a blanket on the floor of the laundry room we sensually prolonged our session. Jeff loved cumming in my mouth and I had absolutely no objections on that score. Apart from improving my ‘sword swallowing’ performance, I was also delighted when the sixty-nine position was introduced a few sessions later. To my amazement, Jeff also got into jizz savouring and without even knowing the term; ‘snowballing,’ this became a regular occurrence in our get-togethers.

I was very keen on Jeff busting my cherry but always felt that he should initiate that milestone. I was beginning to give up hope when he asked me if I wanted to spend an upcoming long weekend at his home. He told me that he had spoken to his folks about it and they were cool with the idea.

On the day his parents collected us we approached their vehicle and introductions were made. As I met them they appeared rather elderly and I was as if I was meeting grandparents.

John and Cecilia were totally charming, nonetheless. It is strange that although we were at school together and having sex, we actually knew very little about one another’s home lives.

On the first evening, after John and Cecilia had retired for the night, Jeff told me the full story of his history.

Jeff’s dad had passed away when he was ten years old and after his mom had remarried; his new stepfather did not get on with Jeff at all. I spare you all the acrimony associated with this tale, suffice to say that Jeff ended up with John and Cecilia, who were indeed his grandparents. John owned the hardware store in their small town and Jeff was being groomed to eventually take over the business from his mom’s dad.

After Jeff and I went to bed we soon got into our normal routine of fondling, kissing, and sucking. The long awaited question I had yearned to hear was then finally asked by Jeff. “Would you let me fuck you?”

“Yes,” I replied without pause, unaware of the discomfort that was to follow because this turned into a far greater ordeal than we had both anticipated. Jeff almost bailed on two occasions due to my histrionics at the ‘agony’ of my anal invasion.

Finally… when Jeff bottomed out inside me after I had learned to relax sufficiently, it turned out to be the most magical night of my life. Jeff was totally blown away by our new adventure and insisted on showing his appreciation twice more that night. In fact, by the end of the weekend, we had perfected the technique.

Our unions became better and better as the year passed and our sexual maturity blossomed. But regrettably, all good things come to an end as they say. At the end of the year, I was devastated when we went our separate ways.

I would not see Jeff again for ten years.

***

Ten years later I was working in the marketing division of a company. At five o’clock on Friday afternoon, as I was about to pass by the small town where I presumed Jeff still lived, I turned off into the town on an impulse. The hardware store was still there but already closed. I was, nevertheless, delighted to see a notification on the door stating, “In case of emergencies, call Jeff at 747 008 7126.’ I took down the number and then decided to book into a small motel for the evening, hopeful that I could possibly share a drink with Jeff later.

At seven-thirty, when I called the number a woman answered. After explaining that I was an old school buddy of Jeff’s, I apologized if I had interrupted their dinner. They had already eaten and before long Jeff was on the line. He was delighted by my call and said that he would be by in fifteen minutes. I sat in the pub awaiting his arrival as prearranged, with butterflies in my stomach.

When Jeff entered my heart was palpitating. He had grown better looking over the years and the dreaded acne was finally gone. After shaking hands, we spent a fantastic hour and a half in one other’s company. Jeff now owned the hardware store, was married and had two kids. During our entire exchange, we did not talk about our sexual relationship.

As Jeff was leaving he asked about the accommodation at the motel. I, of course, offered to show him my room. After a brief look around, he checked his watch and said that he really needed to get going.

At the door, he stopped and looked at me, “I often think about you,” he said.

“Me too,” I replied with a smile.

As we walked towards the car I said, “If you are ever in my part of the world, my place is at your disposal.”

“Are you serious?” he answered, before continuing, “I attend three to four trade shows a year in your city and will definitely take you up on that offer.”

“Well, you have my phone number,” I concluded.

I did not get my hopes up hearing from him, figuring that he may have said what he did out of politeness. And so, I got a huge surprise two months later when he did call. He would only be arriving at my place at around eight-thirty p.m., on the first of a two evening stay, because he had to attend a supplier dinner. With mixed feelings I awaited his arrival, wondering what would happen that night.

When Jeff finally got to my place I welcomed him in, not sure if I should hug him or shake his hand. After putting his suitcase down he just stood staring at me. “May I give you something to eat or drink?” I inquired.

“No thanks, I’m good,” he replied.

“Is there anything else I can offer you?” I persisted.

“Yes… your bed,” he said as he approached me purposefully. After embracing me our lips were soon intertwined.

When we undressed in the bedroom later before getting onto the bed, memories from a lifetime ago flooded through my mind. The smell and touch of Jeff was breath-taking and I was unable to control my emotion as tears began to well up in my eyes.

“Hey, what this?” he asked as he wiped moisture from my cheeks.

“Just good old memories,” I said with a smile, not wanting to dampen the mood.

We kept kissing and fondling one another for a long while before I felt my body being manipulated onto my stomach. When Jeff entered me, recollections of our school days raced through my mind. No man since Jeff had ever satisfied me more. I knew this could never be a permanent situation, but I was happy to take what I could get. I sighed contentedly as he kept thrusting into me, wishing that our lovemaking could last forever.

The passion I felt from him as he kept varying his pace was awesome, and when we finally unloaded after I had been turned onto my back, we were both overcome with ecstasy.

We got little sleep that night or the following evening. It was with a sore heart a bid him farewell on the morning of his departure, already counting the hours to his next visit.

***

Authors note: The word ‘skivvies’ is used in the British context.