Head Boy - Sex Stories

Head Boy

... just told them a bunch of the guys were coming down here today and then whined and whined about how I had hardly any opportunities left until they gave in..."

Hardly any opportunities...my chest tightened. Fuck this shit.

"No," I specified. "I meant, how did you get in?"

"Oh, that," he said. "Well, I locked up for Ray last time round and dropped the keys back to him after. But I took this key off the bunch. He won't need it. Nobody ever comes in here. I'll make sure I need them for something week after next, and put it back on."

I shook my head. Damn. I wouldn't have dared.

My eyes were adjusting to the gloom, and I saw that - I guess to maintain the lie for his family - he was dressed in his baggy blue boilersuit.

"Nice threads," I said sarcastically, nodding at them.

"Thanks," he replied in the same sort of tone. "Thought you'd like them. You'll like them even more when you discover what I've got in the pocket..."

Well, fuck me but I did.

Boilersuits don't have pockets, of course. They have slits for you to put your hand through so you can reach into your real pocket underneath for whatever you need. But when I reached in through the slit at Symon's side all I found was skin. Skin, and a cock already jutting upward, hot and hard...

Oh, shit. Ohyes. I rested my forehead on his collarbone and reached my other hand in the far slit to cup his balls as I jacked him, fierce, earnest - honestly, semi-crazed - and when he started to breathe heavy ...

... I grabbed the zipper at his neck, ripped it all the way down to his groin and dropped to my knees on the dank oil-soaked earth floor to get a taste of him, a mouthful, a throatful...

"I had an idea," Symon whispered, as soon as I was on my feet again. "I think it'll work..."

He led me over to a dilapidated antique tram from god knows where originally, and kinda indicated that I should climb aboard.

Whatever you want, mate...I mounted the steep stairs, and behind me Symon said;

"Now, if you turn around and face outward and I stay here..."

Oh, right, I thought, as he unzipped me. Yeah, that'll work. With me on the third of four steps, my crotch was level with his mouth as he stood at ground level. And all the way up both sides of the stair ran those big sturdy haul-yourself-aboard rails...I grabbed them high and leaned out, he grabbed them low and leaned in.

Six days leads to...quite an appetite. There was no preamble - he went straight to fucking his face on my dick, all exquisite sensation and a wet blubby gagging soundtrack as slick fluid poured from the corners of his mouth, illuminated by a shard of light coming in through a crack, gleaming as it fell languidly to the ugly dark floor...I came so hard. So hard. My hands were kinda cramped about those rails I'd been gripping, and I had to consciously transfer my attention to them before I could get them to un-knot...

We hooked up there one more time, three days later. Again it had the mad edge, the ...