St Barnaby’s Academy for Young Men was widely regarded as being one of the best boarding colleges in the country. An esteemed old institution, the huge Georgian mansion house was set in acres of perfectly kept grounds. Beautiful trim lawns, magnificent woodland and the expertly tended rugby pitches were admired throughout the area.
The college had a fine history of preparing young men to become successful, well respected gentlemen and their swift and sometimes draconian punishments for wrong-doing were legendary.
It was in a dormitory within this fine establishment that young Edgar Carmichael awoke upon the occasion of his eighteenth birthday. Edgar was a slight, gangly young man, not very sporty but not very academic either; he tip-toed his way through life trying not to bother people and avoiding causing trouble of any conceivable sort.
His father, Lord Carmichael had been convinced that St Barnaby’s was the place to make a man out of the boy and had sent Edgar there as his father had sent him; unfortunately the strict regime had not had entirely the desired effect.
Edgar wasn’t interested in rugby or rowing, he had never really taken to shooting either. He did enjoy horse riding but that was about the limit of his outdoor activities. Instead he preferred to spend his time in the library reading the classics, or staying in the dorm with some Rodgers and Hammerstein. His favourite subjects were Latin and history and he often stayed behind to help the teachers carry their books.
Edgar didn’t really have any friends and all the other guys laughed at him and teased him, singling him out for all manner of vile abuses. And at no other time was this more apparent than on his birthday. He knew of course the day would be commemorated by his parents who would no doubt have sent him a hamper just brimming with splendid treats; but otherwise the day would pass largely unnoticed.
This general indifference to his special day from all the other chaps no longer held any particular chagrin for Edgar, it had merely become a tradition in it’s own right; so consoling himself with the thought of the hamper he climbed out of bed and went to get washed.
His first lesson after breakfast was geography, and after that double maths and the morning passed on as any other. At last lunch time arrived and Edgar skipped off to enjoy pork chops with boiled potatoes and asparagus with just a smidgen of apple sauce; sitting as was his way completely by himself. He really wasn’t looking forward to games next period, but it was after that lesson that his day took a rather unusual turn.
Whilst Edgar was getting dressed after a typically uncomfortable shower, Harvey Simpson, a beautiful and strapping bloke from the same year came up to him and whispered in his ear.
“If you want your birthday treat, meet me by the grounds keeper’s shed at eight. Don’t worry it’s nothing beastly I promise.” And with that he left and Edgar remained in the changing room pondering the extraordinariness of this turn of events.
All through English and double economics Edgar thought about what Simpson had said to him earlier that afternoon. Harvey Simpson was one of the most popular fellows in the college. A strapping six-footer he was the captain of the rugby team, and the debate team and the rest of the lads idolised him. His screen-idol good looks and God-given charisma led to all manner of tales about the girls he had known and his cocksmanship was legend.
Edgar had always admired Simpson from afar and had often wondered what it must be like to be friends with a chap like that, even fantasised about the two of them being chums. He generally got a warm and tingly feeling whenever Simpson passed him in the hall or bumped into him in a corridor. And best of all Simpson had never been a part of the bullying with which Edgar had become so familiar.
Harvey Simpson however had never acknowledged that he was aware that Edgar Carmichael even existed at all. The two had never spoken and in fact Edgar had always believed that even when Simpson had occasioned to look at him it had always been with an obvious contempt. Confused Edgar decided to try not to think about it.
At eight o’clock sharp Edgar stood, twitching slightly nervously, expecting a gang of lads to arrive at any moment and strip him naked before tying him fast to one of the rugby posts; however it was the singular figure of Simpson who strode up to meet him.
“Happy birthday old boy. Ready for your present?” He said and produced a vast array of keys on a huge metal ring, which he rattled mischievously before setting about unlocking the shed door. “Come in.” He said, entering the dim little shack and Edgar, who couldn’t seem to master his curiosity followed him in.
A flash of flame light described a cigarette lighter and Simpson began lighting a number of candles that had been arranged in a rough circle around a shabby and threadbare rug and a couple of cushions that had been placed upon the wooden floor.
“Come in, come in. Sit down.” Simpson said and motioned to Edgar to sit on the rug.
Once sat, rather uncomfortably on the wooden floor with his knees bent up and his legs crossed in front of him, Edgar waited. What the devil was he doing here? What did this Simpson chap want with him? He was soon to find out.
“I’ve brought you here Carmichael to do something I’ve wanted to do to you for ages but couldn’t because you were just too damn young. However, since today you have become a young gentleman I think there is no time to waste.”
Edgar looked up into his beautiful face. His azure blue eyes were so gentle and yet wise and were focusing on him with such intensity. His shock of blonde hair was neither neat nor messy and yet somehow both. His firm jaw was the jaw of a man yet he had the complexion of a nine-year-old girl.
Edgar began to get that strange tingly sensation in his stomach and just about managed to say “What have you always wanted to do to me?” Before Simpson leaned forward and kissed hip gently on the lips.
Without knowing what he was doing Edgar began kissing him back; his lips were so soft and so warm and so gentle that Edgar found himself completely enveloped in the moment. As his belly started fizzing and his heart started pounding, he began to get an erection. Suddenly he pulled back, ashamed and embarrassed because his penis was acting this way, but as he looked up into Simpson’s eyes there was only affection and following those eyes down to the groin Edgar saw that Simpson had a huge erection himself.
“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly natural. Don’t be scared either I’ll show you what to do. Now, get your cock out.”
Completely amazed with himself Edgar unfastened his trousers and revealed his steadily hardening cock, no longer embarrassed or uncomfortable. He couldn’t understand it but for some reason this whole thing felt completely natural, felt normal; as though it had been something he had been doing for years, and he roughly pulled off his trousers and took off his shirt.
Simpson was naked too now and eased Edgar onto his back and grabbed hold of his cock. He had in is hand a bottle of something which he squeezed all over Edgar’s dick and belly. Then when he was all slippery Simpson got down to giving Edgar’s hard cock a good wanking.
For a minute or so Edgar laid back and enjoyed the new experience, craning his head every now and again to watch this beautiful man rubbing his dick, when he suddenly felt a strange sensation in his anus. He looked up again and this time he could see that Simpson seemed to be shoving his finger up his arse. The sensation was strange at first but then he began to enjoy the feeling. Simpson continued to rapidly finger his ring, inserting a second and then a third; and then he bent slowly forwards and took Edgar’s pulsing cock in his mouth.
Edgar began to moan slightly as Simpson, his head bobbing up and down like a cockatoo sucked hard on his dick and continued to thrust his fingers in and out of his arse hole.
Then Simpson stopped what he was doing and manoeuvred Edgar up onto all fours. Feeling a fresh squirt of lubricant trickling between his buttocks and sensing Simpson taking up a position directly behind him, Edgar naturally opened his legs slightly and dropped onto his elbows. He felt Simpson’s massive cock slide slowly all the way up his rectum and all the way inside him and gasped as he felt something else which he didn’t know how to describe.
Simpson started fucking Edgar’s arse slowly and deeply and then began to steadily speed up. He reached his right arm around and grabbed Edgar’s cock again and then, while still fucking him hard started to gently rub his dick.
Faster and faster Simpson fucked Edgar’s welcoming arse hole; and faster and faster he tugged his dick. Both men were sweating now and breathing hard, and Edgar could feel his heart beating against his breastbone. Harder and deeper and faster Simpson went and Edgar could feel himself approaching orgasm. And then when he heard Simpson yell, felt his body spasm and felt his hot creamy cum burst into his rectum; Edgar did orgasm and shot great gobs of jism all over his own stomach.
Simpson collapsed on top of him and both of them stayed there, sweating and panting and giggling until Edgar could feel Simpson’s cock starting to shrink. At that point Simpson withdrew his dick from Edgar’s rectum and bent forward to kiss him again with those soft red lips, his tongue just briefly probing his own.
The chaps got dressed and as Simpson blew out the candles and followed Edgar out of the door, Edgar turned to him and said:
“So how many boys have you done that with?”
“None,” Simpson replied, looking at Edgar with love and moonbeams dancing in his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you.” And with that he leaned forward, kissed Edgar again and the two of them set off back to the dormitories.
And now not only was today the best birthday I’ve ever had, Edgar thought, today was the day I fell in love with a boy.