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Send me an email now! Send me a Membership Gift! Submit a Review about me. Find my Profile on a different domain. GOLD Escort. Read All Reviews about sebastiangym 3. You are dead right when you tag me as gay, and I have to say, I take my hat off to you. I had never ever thought of you as gay. In fact, to be quite honest, I had never ever given you much thought at all!
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I did not and do not dislike you, but as we are both aware, we are not close friends: How could I know about you, as you show no signs at all of your sexual preferences. But, my god, you have based your thoughts about me on the most superficial of observations and proved yourself right, but I had no idea at all about you until now.
How about it? Shall we give it a try out and see if sex is, in the event, all that it is regularly made out to be and, more importantly to test the water about our own sexuality? As the old saying goes, the proof of the pudding is in the eaten so, what do you say? Shall we sample it?
Here I had been until a few minutes ago, wondering, for what had seemed like an age, how I could find a guy to fuck and now Charlie was handing me his arse on a plate and inviting me to shaft him, so of course I said, yes.
And to lay to rest any doubt about my own sexuality, I told Charlie, yet again that I was gay and that there was no doubt at all about that: So, I said to Charlie that I was game to give it a whirl and then asked him when he thought that out first attempt at coupling should be. I have to say that I did not find this at all unpleasant even though it was the first time that I had ever been touched by another man, other than on the football field.
I could already feel my man-meat stirring between my legs as Charlie dropped to his knees in front of me and took my rapidly hardening cock in his mouth and started sucking hard. Like many inexperience guys, I could hardly control myself and started to exude pre-cum almost immediately.
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My Internet sex education had taught me the rudiments, but now faced with the reality, I was almost in a panic. Fortunately, Charlie had a clear practical bent, and leaned across a table which happened to be in the changing room, and spread his legs, to give me access to his anus. I asked myself whether it would ever fit in what seemed a minute hole — in fact it was not even a hole, but rather a dent: Go ahead and shove your cock into my hole: Just push your knob against it and eventually it will yield and you will be able to shaft me.
Go on, just do it! Just force your dick hard against my hole and according to all I have read, it will yield and you will be able to shaft me with the full length of your piece. Apparently it hurts a bit for me, the first few times a guy gets his arse fucked, but that is all supposed to be part of the experience. Just bloody well do it. It is exactly what I want, what I have been dreaming about for months.
So just do it. Go on, stick it to me!
I guess I must have thought that I would just push my cock into a hole and that would be that. That would have to force myself into my partner was something which I had not at all anticipated. Anyway, no one could doubt that with all the exhortations Charlie had just given me that he wanted me to fuck him, so I went ahead and did what he had asked. I realized almost immediately that if we were going to do this regularly, we needed some form of lubrication to ease the contact between my cock and his rectum as it was all very dry and not very comfortable. On this, our first time together, had no idea at all of trying to please Charlie and bring him to a climax simultaneously with my own.
I simply bashed on and experienced the greatest orgasm I had ever had. Fucking Charlie, I saw, was infinitely better than jerking off myself: I really have no idea what Charlie experienced as I gave him his first taste of a cock up his arse. Chapter 4 So, now you know how I started my sex life, aged 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 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: 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: 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.
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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 , 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 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 which hospital he had been taken were left unsaid. Well, of course, there was a tremendous buzz of intrigue among us boys as to what had happened to Mr.
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Simmons, but nothing more was ever said about him. His illness, if illness he had had, clearly prevented him from ever returning to Sheldon, for within a few days, a temporary PE teacher was in place and within a month the post was filled by a full time new face, Mr. Chadwick, who turned out to be a very popular staff member, both with the boys and his colleagues, alike. I am jumping ahead of myself here, as it is worthwhile recounting what actually happened regarding Mr.
Chapter 5 It was several years later and at the time I was already well established as a Male escort in New York. One of my regular clients worked at a high level in a well-known firm of publishers. I had just finished servicing his needs late one afternoon, when out of the blue, he invited me to a cocktail party which was being given that evening in honour of one of their new authors, for whom they had just published an anthology of his poems.
I was not really sure why he should give me this invitation, but having nothing better to do that evening, I accepted, and so, together we walked to the nearby hotel, where the party was being held. Well, you can imagine my surprise, when I discovered that the new author in whose honour the party was being given was none other than Mr Crowther, my old teacher of English literature at Sheldon. He was as surprised as I was to meet me there and I simply told him that I was an acquaintance of one of the senior staff at the firm and that he had invited me to join him, quite unexpectedly. Mr Crowther had no idea what I did for a living and I avoided touching on the subject.
The upshot was that he asked me to stay on at the end of the party and have dinner with him, which I willingly did.
And, over the meal, among other things we discussed about Sheldon, here out of the blue, I finally learned the facts leading up to the demise of Mr Simmons, which I will allow Mr. Crowther to tell us in his own words.