Sebastian - The Male Escort, - Part 1 of 6 - Sex Stories

Sebastian - The Male Escort, - Part 1 of 6

... just seventeen years old, with my partner of the same age. Charlie and I had sex two or three times a week for the next eighteen months until we finally left Sheldon in the summer of 2011. I do not know looking back on things, just now we managed to keep our relationship a secret, but no one ever suspected that he and I were fuck-buddies. As Charlie said right at the start of our relationship, it was in our own interest to keep quiet and just get on with copulating: no boasting, no braggadocio, no talk about our activity at all. And, as he rightly pointed out, if Woody Prick, the headmaster, ever found out about us, we would be in for the high jump and the old Prick would surely give our arses a monumental roasting with his cane. And you can believe me when I tell you that this was an event to be avoided at all costs, as my few earlier encounters with the Prick, his PP and his beating of naked arses had taught me: definitely a no, no! Looking back on things, I realize now that the relationship which Charlie and I enjoyed, and that is truly the right word, for we both enjoyed every minute of what we did together, was really strange. From the moment it was established that I was using my cock on his arse, things never, ever changed. Charlie loved being shafted and had never expressed any desire to have a return match, as it were. And now, years later, although I saw Charlie naked both in the showers and when we were alone together, I cannot, for the life in me, recollect ...

... what his cock was like! All I know is that I was chivvied in a good natured (envious, I guess) way in the showers by my classmates, because I had, by the time I turned eighteen on January 1 2011, an absolutely formidable piece of man- meat, which was the envy of everyone who saw it. And so it was that when we left Sheldon, Charlie and I simply said goodbye, as if we were both going home for the vacation and after that I neither saw nor heard from him ever again. It was as if our relationship had been for nothing. Neither of us had any emotional attachment to the other and we just parted, as friends, but without any lasting memories the one for the other. In retrospect, our liaison had been one of sheer physical necessity and when we parted, I guess we both expected that somehow we would each find an agreeably partner to pick up where we had left off. But, before we leave Sheldon behind forever and allow my memories of my time there to fade, it is worthwhile recounting what happened to that slimy bastard of a sports master, Mr Simmons, easily the most heartily hated master at my time at the school. It was in 2010 that Mr Simmons suddenly, as if by magic, disappeared from the school. We the boys learned of his departure at the Monday morning assembly, when Woody Prick , the headmaster among his customary comments, suddenly announced that on the previous Saturday evening, Mr Simmons had been taken violently ill and had had to be carted off to hospital. What the illness was and to ...