Luke's Early Years

This information from Pop took away any apprehension and embarrassment that I had about sex, and about religion, and I found myself able to talk about both topics freely at home, as long as my sister was not around. However, Cathy had always been used to a house with no females in it, which is why my parents encouraged her to spend time with Mrs Rockwell. At least when she was there she didn't have to hear us males belching and farting all the time. But she got used to hearing crude language, and could use it herself when the need arose, although most of the time she was very ladylike. We never expected her to have a mothering or housekeeping role for the rest of us, but we were glad that she did learn some feminine skills with Mrs Rockwell. But her sweet presence did very much to cheer us and help us in times when things were not going well. I never regretted that I had a sister and not a brother.

Chapter 5

Back to Camford

At the same time as I moved up into the senior school and no longer needed to board, my sister finished at Ixton Primary School. Our parents decided to take the opportunity to move back into the flat in Fountain Street, Camford, where they had lived when they were at the university, so that I could live at home again. There was a small box room in the flat that was used to store books. We cleared this out, moved the books to Rockwell's Barn, and bought a small bed and chest of drawers and turned it into a bedroom for Cathy. I had the other small bedroom where Dad had kept his clothes when he first moved in with Pop. He had never slept in the bed! My parents went to a lot of trouble to find a suitable school for Cathy, and ultimately fixed on a medium-sized private girls' school with a good academic reputation. They felt that it was vital that she should grow up with some female companionship.

With hindsight, I think that I would have been much closer to my sister if I had not been gay. Most men need a mother figure or some other kind of female support in their lives, but I never had the reserve and almost lack of trust that a lot of male teenagers have with their fathers. Because of them being gay, both Dad and Pop awoke in me total trust, and I knew that their own experiences had made their advice very valuable, and I never felt the slightest desire to go against their wishes, which must have made me a very untypical male teenager! In some ways, I felt sorry for Cathy, for exactly the same reason, and I think she probably later regretted not having a mother figure in her life, unless you count Mrs Rockwell. My fathers used to get lots of fun though, going to parents' evenings and other school events and talking to the women teachers. The school did have some male staff, especially in science, but I think the girls gave the poor men a hard time.

Chapter 6

Life in the sixth form

I hated school sporting activities and team games of any kind. This may have disappointed Dad, who in his college days had been a basketball player. I was not lazy and inactive, indeed I was pretty fit. I walked to and from school each day and I was good at swimming. But on the whole I was hyperstudious. After our GCSEs, in which I did rather well, being a few months older than most other exam candidates, with top grades in nine subjects, I was looking forward to sixth form work. My social skills were pretty minimal. I was more interested in computers and playing the piano. About this time I passed the Associated Boards Grade 8 exam in piano, although I did not get a distinction. I would sometimes go to the cinema, or to the swimming pool with one or more of my friends, but we were a pretty tame and unexciting bunch, more interested in getting on with our work than experimenting with drugs or under-age drinking.

It was a pity in some ways that I went to a boys' school, because it meant that I did not meet a lot of girls. My schoolfriends were always talking about their girlfriends, but I never found out where they met them. It didn't worry me much, because I didn't find girls very interesting. Eventually the penny dropped and I realized that my lack of interest in girls was due to an increasing awareness of my fellow boys. Even in the sixth form, we had an hour's compulsory PE each week, followed by compulsory showers. My group of friends seemed highly uninterested in their bodies, which in most cases was not surprising, as they were quite unremarkable.

Then at the end of our first year in the sixth when I was nearly eighteen, a new boy joined our class. He had just moved to the area with his parents. He was older than me, in fact was already eighteen. He was beautiful and I felt instantly attracted to him. He had longish dark wavy hair, but was tall and thin in build, even skinnier than most actively growing male teenagers.

Chapter 7

Mark and Luke

In spite of my parents' scientific background, I was doing languages in the sixth form. In fact I had been selected as one of the elite few to do four A level subjects, Latin, Greek, French and Italian and had been entered in the Camford entrance exams. My choice was probably influenced by Pop's fluent French and Dad's fluent Dutch.

The new boy, whose name was Mark, was doing science, so I only saw him at morning registration and in assembly, where I had a daily fifteen minutes to admire his face and figure. However we were both in the same after-school chess club. I was not a good chess player, but our school's team was weak, and I was recruited mainly because I could play and was available. A lot of sixth-formers had to rush off after school to deliver evening newspapers to earn spending money. Mark and I usually sat next to one another in the weekly chess practice sessions, and got talking.

We both turned out to like French and Italian films, so often on a Saturday we would go to an afternoon showing of a film at the Rialto, Camford's art-house cinema that was still eking out a precarious existence in an era of mass-market multiplex rubbish. Only in Camford could such a place hope to survive. We would then go and eat in a cheap restaurant somewhere in the town. I was not really in love with Mark, but I felt happy and comfortable in his company. His ideas and tastes enhanced my appreciation and love of classical music, and we would go to concerts together whenever an orchestra visited Camford. I discovered later that it was at just such a concert that my two fathers had met!

Early in January, I celebrated my eighteenth birthday. My parents arranged for me, themselves, Cathy, and such friends as I cared to invite, to go out to dinner at the Venezia restaurant. I invited three of my oldest friends and Mark to come for the occasion. Cathy seemed perfectly happy to be present at an all-male occasion, indeed she was on sparkling form, and charmed us all, especially my three straight friends! After the meal, Dad, having paid for drinks, including my first legal alcoholic drink in public, went home with Pop and Cathy and left us boys to continue drinking. Dad knew very well that we did not have enough money to get drunk!

Mark had spent several weeks of the summer abroad and still late in January had a faint suntan. When I noticed him in the showers after PE, the white area of his arse and genitals emphasized his suntan. His pubic hair was thick and abundant, and he had a respectably sized tool. In fact, I was obliged to wrap a towel round my hips to cover up the hard-on that I instantly developed when I saw him. He looked at me, noticed the bulge in the towel, and grinned at me without saying anything.

Mark was much more sophisticated than I was, and I learned a lot from him. He was also more outgoing, and it was not long before we were holding hands in the darkness of the cinema, and one afternoon early in February, I put my arm round him. He responded by turning in his seat (looking round to make sure all eyes were on the screen) and kissing me gently on the lips. My temperature started to rise and my pulse to race. I found it impossible to concentrate for the rest of the film. It was an Italian film, and reading the subtitles requires concentration.

By the time we emerged from the cinema, it was dark, although still early evening. As we walked in the direction of the small cafe where we usually went to eat, we passed a park on the other side of the road. I nudged Mark and whispered "Let's go in there." We entered the park and although there were no leaves on the trees we found a secluded seat amidst thick shrubbery. We sat down and threw our arms round each other and began to kiss passionately. I had actually shaved that morning, something that I only did about once a week, so my face was OK. Mark's face was deliciously smooth, he obviously had much less facial hair than me. We nuzzled each other as we kissed and Mark opened his mouth and used his tongue to push my mouth open. We played with each other's tongues for a few minutes, and sticking my left hand out I found that Mark had just as hard an erection as I was experiencing myself. I could feel the copious damp precome in my underpants. After five minutes or so, we started to feel cold and let go of one another and stood up.

"That was fantastic," I whispered to him as we walked along.

"Yes, it was," he replied, "We must find somewhere private where we can make love sometime soon." Without much further discussion on this matter, we entered the tearoom and ate our evening meal.

When I got home, Pop asked me "Did you have a nice time, Luke?" and I smiled and said that I had. I wondered how long I should wait before admitting to him that I was gay. I decided that the time was coming when I would have to bring Mark home to meet Pop.

Chapter 8

A relationship develops

Mark and I soon found an opportunity to deepen our relationship. One Saturday just before Easter he invited me to come for tea at his house and stay for the evening. He was an only child, and his parents were going out to visit friends and would not be back till late, so we said that we would watch a DVD in Mark's bedroom, on the small television set that he had been given for his sixteenth birthday. We made sure that Mark's parents were well out of the house before we fell into each other's arms, and began to kiss furiously. I started to undo his belt and unzip his trousers, pausing to let him do the same for me. We removed one another's shoes and socks. Then I pulled his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in his underpants, with his rockhard dick already oozing moisture. He removed my shirt and underclothes and we fell once again into a deep embrace, our rampant cocks rubbing against one another. "We're going to try cock-sucking," he announced.

"Have you ever done it before?" I asked.

"No, but I've got a book that tells how to do it," he said. "It's called 'How to give good head,' and it's really intended for the heterosexual market, but it applies just as much to gay sex. The first thing to bear in mind is to keep your teeth always beneath your lips. You should be able to close your lips and touch your closed lips from inside with your tongue, so that you never bring upper and lower teeth together. The next thing is to use your tongue as much as you can. Don't try and actually swallow the other guy's dick, you'll just gag if you do. The big pleasure lies in using your lips and tongue, and the guy being sucked should not try to fuck your mouth violently. Who's going to suck first?"

"Well, as you have read all about it, maybe you should suck me." I was certainly ready for it, the precome was steadily dripping from my ironhard tool. Mark bent over and started to lick the precome from the tip. Then he ran his lips over my rolled-back foreskin and started to nibble the fleshy ring gently. I shivered with enjoyment. "That's wonderful!" I whispered. He moved slowly along my shaft and rubbed his lips and face in my pubic bush. Then he started to lick my balls. He then changed direction and moved up my tool till he reached the head. He took the first 5 cm or so of my cock, basically the head, and chewed it gently. I nearly went crazy. Now I knew what a man's cock was for! Previously I had just considered it a pipe for pissing and a stick for fucking, but I now knew that it had its own role as an organ of sensitivity and pleasure in itself.

Mark was giving me greater enjoyment than I had ever obtained in jacking off. I could feel the excitement and tension building up inside me, and I pushed my dick a little further into Mark's mouth. I reached out and got hold of him behind the head, as if to steady it while I fucked it, but I started to breathe heavily and loudly, and in a matter of seconds I came and shot my load into his mouth. He smiled blissfully as he savoured the taste and then swallowed my spunk.

"You taste good!" he exclaimed.

"I wondered what you would do with the man-juice," I said.

"You should always swallow it, unless it tastes foul," he grinned. "Let's have a short rest and then it's your turn to suck me!"

I spent the time that we were resting running my hands over Mark's chest and belly and kissing his arms and shoulders from time to time. When we were recovered, our erections had subsided, but I knelt down and took Mark's limp cock into my mouth. It immediately started to stiffen and as I ran my tongue over the head and nibbled slightly at his foreskin, it rapidly attained full hardness. "That was nice!" he said. "It was rather splendid to feel my dick stiffening while it was in your mouth!" I pulled away from his cock head temporarily and started to lick the sides of the shaft, rubbing my tongue over every little lump and vein that I could feel and coating his man-stick with saliva. I played with his foreskin with my lips, pulling it and letting go. Then I took the head of his tool into my mouth and savoured it with my tongue, sucking and making slight chewing movements as I felt its round and smooth surface. Mark was not content with my rather slow actions and started to move his dick inside my mouth pushing it forward with fucking movements. The sensation of this glorious slippery cylinder in my mouth was highly enjoyable, and I stretched my mouth as much as I could and pushed myself as far forward on him as possible to try to engulf his male organ to its maximum, which of course I totally failed to do. By now I could feel his trembling and tensing muscles and after perhaps half a minute longer he shouted "Luke!" and came and squirted not one or two but three shots of jism into my wide open mouth. I slowly withdrew my mouth and started to savour his man-juice. It tasted quite nice, somewhat salty, but not spectacularly flavoursome. I swallowed it but retained a little in my mouth and smeared it over my lips and kissed him back on his mouth, thereby transferring some of his come back to him again.

"Thank you, thank you, Mark," I said, "now I know what sex is like! It's even better than I thought it would be!"

"Yes, that was pretty good! Next time, we'll try sixty-nine."

"What's that?" I asked naïvely.

"Basically, sucking each other off at the same time," he explained.

"Sounds good!" I said.

Chapter 9

I come out to my fathers

It seemed to me that there was no longer any point in not telling my parents about my sexual orientation. As a pair of gays they would obviously not be surprised or shocked that I had the same orientation, even though they might be disappointed at the thought that I would be unlikely ever give them any grandchildren.

I chose a weekend in which Dad was at home. He was just back from a week-long recital tour of the Netherlands. We had decided to spend the weekend at Rockwell's Barn and Cathy had gone to visit one of her old school friends in the village. We were still using the pool at that stage, and the three of us had just done 20 or so fairly relaxing lengths. When Cathy was not around we used to swim naked. We all climbed out of the pool and started drying ourselves and it seemed a suitable moment to explain to my fathers how I felt about myself. "I hope that this does not come as a shock to you," I said to them. "But I am pretty sure that I am gay. I am seeing and dating a boy at school and I would like you to meet him."

They were not shocked, but they did look a little concerned. "Are you quite sure about this?" asked Dad. "You can't have met very many girls, as you go to a boys' school. "

"Yes, that's true" I said, "but really I don't have any interest in girls whatsoever, and I am extremely interested in boys. You must both know how you feel like when this happens! When can I bring Mark to meet you?"

"Well," said Dad, "before we meet him, I think we need to have a discussion with you about gay sex. I realize that you might think that we are being excessively nosy and being pruriently interested in things that do not concern us, but you must remember that homosexuality is a risky life-style. Legally in the UK you can now have sex with a man, but you should think in some detail before you get too deeply emotionally involved with a boy of your own age. Within a few months you will be off to university and it could be a major disadvantage if you have tied yourself down emotionally with someone from school. Another piece of advice is that I strongly advise you not to get involved in fucking. You can get a lot of fun and enjoyment out of jacking each other off, sucking and rimming but please don't go for the ultimate unless you are desperately, desperately in love. And if you do go down the fucking route, remember always, ALWAYS use a condom. But the most important thing is: don't under ANY circumstances let your relatonship distract you from your schoolwork. We want you to get into the university here, either at Winton or at St Boniface's."

"Unless I manage to get a choral scholarship at Winton, which is unlikely, because I'm a baritone, not a tenor, I've decided to apply to Buckingham."

"Buckingham?"

"Yes, because it's a gay college, and still refuses to admit women. I want to be a member of the only men-only college left in Camford University!"

"University will give you a chance to meet girls. Why diminish your chances of meeting a nice girl by going to a gay college?"

"I don't WANT to meet a nice girl, I want to meet a nice boy!"

Chapter 10

University applications

Shortly after this, we heard the results of our Oxbridge and Camford entrance exams. Mark and I both knew that our relationship would not be a long-lasting one, because we were both hoping to go to different universities, I to Camford and Mark to Oxbridge. My performance in the entrance examination led to Buckingham College summoning me for an interview, so one Monday morning early in May I left the flat in Fountain Street and walked the few hundred metres into the town centre and five minutes later arrived at the porter's lodge at Buckingham.

The interview went well. There were three persons interviewing me, the Senior Tutor, the language tutor and a third don whom I failed to identify. They asked me why I had chosen Camford, rather than Oxbridge. Would it not be better not to be studying in the town where I lived? I replied that I had family reasons to remain in Camford, as my parents had strong academic connections. I added that we only resided in the city for educational reasons, and that our family home was actually in Ixton, where my parents would return after my sister and I had left school. I was asked why I had chosen Buckingham College rather than any other college. I said that it was because it had an Italian tutor. Italian was the language in which I wanted to specialize, though I was happy to study French, and I had a grandmother who lived in France. I added that the all-male composition of the college appealed to me as well. That was the nearest I went to declaring myself gay, but I guessed that they could read between the lines. Things had moved on somewhat in the 'don't ask, don't tell' tradition since my fathers had been students.