I should never have listened to Peter.

First he had landed us in detention – sixteen and still being held back to write lines! Now, with only a vague explanation, he had led us from our boys' grammar school, through a gap in the fence to the girls’ one next-door – if you’re unfamiliar with this British term, to attend a grammar school you don’t pay, just pass a test. I had to follow him – he was my best friend. Our final destination was a dead-end alley behind a large brick hall. He grinned proudly at me.

 “The back of the gym?” I asked.

“The changing room,” he corrected, indicating windows at head height, one of which was ajar. I suddenly understood.

“You pervert,” I said.

“Well, you can go home, but you'll miss out.”

“On what?”

“Today the Year Eleven hockey team have training. You know who's on the team?”

“Who?” I could guess.

“Julia. Or are you over her?”

“Yes, actually.” This was mostly true. Julia was a girl I had obsessed over since Year Eight – blonde, blue eyes, very pretty. I had never even spoken to her, and over the past year had accepted the fact I would never get the courage to do so. The curse of the shy.

“Well, pick a new obsession.” He had gone over to the gap in the window. Before I could protest further, he beckoned me over. “They’re coming back!”

My libido overruled my objections, and I joined him. Our view was of the showers, but we could see through to the benches. It was wrong, but I could not stop myself looking. Nor could I prevent the rush of blood to my groin. Peter was ahead of me: I heard the sound of a zip, and I saw he already had his dick in his hand.

“You’re a sex pest!” I whispered.

“Shut up and get yours out, this will be better than any porn,” came the whispered reply.

I hesitated, but my cock was feeling uncomfortably confined. I took it in my hand, slowly pulling back the foreskin. One of the girls was already taking off her top. Next to me, Peter stroked furiously, his mouth open. There weren’t even any bare breasts yet! That was about to change – the girl had turned away from us and was removing her bra. Soon, she would turn around, and–

“Ahem!”

We spun around, dicks in hand, crashing together. We fell in a heap at the feet of a tall, slim woman in her forties, wearing a green tracksuit – the school colours of course. Her brown hair was tied in a severe bun, although not as severe as her facial expression.

“No need to ask you what you were doing,” she said, as we scrambled to our feet. “Don’t try and hide the evidence!” We stopped struggling to do up our pants. “Leave them hanging out. I want you exactly as I found you.”

“I am Mrs. Barker,” she introduced herself. “I am the Hockey Coach, and the Deputy Head. Come!”

Not daring to look at one another, we followed her with cocks dangling ridiculously out of our black school pants. Miraculously, we ran into no other school staff. She held the door to the gym open for us, then shut and bolted it. I swallowed.

“Drop your bags and stand over there. Don’t move!” she commanded, indicating the centre of the netball court. Once we had obeyed, she marched to a door at the back – the changing room – and put her head in. Then she stood guard, glaring at us and tapping her foot.

After a few minutes, the first two hockey players emerged, now in the green skirts, white shirts, and green ties of their uniform. They stopped, obviously confused when they saw us. The shorter girl, a brunette with freckles, glasses, and pigtails, noticed the pale objects hanging out of our pants. She nudged her taller companion. They giggled, and glanced at their teacher.

The latter said nothing until all sixteen girls had come out – including Julia, who recognised me at once. Then she led them to stand in front of us. At this range, any doubts they had about what was hanging out of our pants were banished. They sniggered amongst themselves.

“Ladies,” Mrs. Barker began, “these two… gentlemen were caught looking through the shower window, exactly as they are now. You can guess where their hands were!”

There was a storm of angry cries. Mrs. Barker let them vent, then raised her hand.

“They saw nothing. I found them only minutes after you had gone in. That does not excuse their intent. I want you to have the opportunity to tell them how they’ve made you feel.”

There was another chorus of disgust, then they took turns giving us their opinions. I felt like absolute shit – rightly so. Pete did not look like he was enjoying it, either. Once they had had their say, the teacher addressed us.

“You have two options,” she said. “I can take you to Mr. Locke–“

“No!” Peter had had too many run-ins with our headmaster to risk such a major one.

“Or,” she continued, “you put yourselves at the mercy of the girls.”

The vicious grins that came over some of the girls made me hesitate, but then I saw my friend’s face. He had that look in his wide, blue eyes, like a puppy. He was a lot like a puppy, I realised, with that dark blond hair, rigid though it was with hair gel. Maybe he had been a golden retriever in a previous life.

“We feel it is only right that the girls punish us,” I said, running my hand through my short brown hair and adjusting my glasses nervously.

“Very well. Girls, you have five minutes to come up with something. Keep it legal.”

They pulled away in a whispering huddle. The minutes ticked by. As their discussion grew heated, my dread increased. After consulting with their teacher, they formed a semi-circle around us, arms folded. I couldn’t help finding them all attractive, despite their anger. Julia had chosen a spot exactly in front of me, looking as beautiful as ever.

“Undress,” ordered Nicky, who rode my bus. Olive skin, curly black hair and a delicate face offset the steel in her brown eyes.

Peter started to remove his tie. I swallowed, and did the same. From their smirks and giggles, I guessed they wanted us to do this like a striptease, so I tried not to rush. My hands were shaking too much anyway. My shirt came off easily, but I almost fell over taking off my shoes. I paused, then remembered my cock was already out, rendering modesty pointless, and removed the rest. We stood before them stark naked, just as we had wanted to see them. Revealing my skinny body to the crowd of sixteen-year-old girls made me even more self-conscious standing next to Pete, who was taller and more athletically built than I was.

“Show us what you were doing,” came the next instruction, this time from Jenny. When we’d met before, I’d claimed to be a feminist. The contempt in her voice was palpable.

I reached for my cock, and again started pulling the foreskin back and forth, trying to get hard. Derisive laughs at our staying flaccid did not help. I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down, then opened them and looked straight at Julia. I felt a twitch and relief flooded in when my organ began to swell. This quietened the titters a bit. They were not impressed, but curiosity crept into the faces around us, as both Pete and I grew harder.

I felt better. My erect cock was the one thing about which I had no feelings of inadequacy. It reached almost to my navel, and it felt the perfect thickness in my hand, my thumb just meeting my fingertips on the other side. I sneaked a look at Peter’s – very nice, and probably only a bit shorter than mine, but looked smaller in comparison to his larger body!

“Good idea, Jack,” said the pigtailed brunette with a grin. “Turn to face each other.”

My friend gave me a reproachful look. Like me, he had been enjoying the view – I knew the girls weren’t keen on the uniform, but I loved them in it. On the other hand, I did not object to a chance to admire Peter’s toned naked body. It had been a wet dream about him that had revealed my bisexuality to me.

I brought my right hand to my lips and spat into my palm. Mocking cheers from our audience accompanied me rubbing this natural lubricant over the head of my hard cock. Peter copied me in getting saliva on his hand, but began pumping hard and fast. The squelching made some of the girls burst out laughing. In contrast, I moved my hand slowly down my shaft, then up to the head, round a few times, and down again. My left hand cupped my balls, squeezing gently.

A sigh escaped my lips on each pass of my hand over the tip. Opposite, Peter had his mouth open and eyelids drooping. At the speed his hand was moving, I thought he would cum immediately. With a gasp, he whipped his hand away, dick bouncing. A bead of precum oozed from the tip, but that was all. He grinned, stroked his shaft slowly, then started again.

My mounting excitement generated more saliva, deposited on both hands. All those eyes on me made me nervous enough to delay my orgasm, though I could feel heat rising in my cheeks, and not from embarrassment anymore. I kept one hand travelling over the sensitive head, twisting as I went, and thrusting my hips slowly to meet my stacked fists. Just as the pressure in my groin started to grow, I heard Mrs. Barker’s voice.

“Two glasses, as requested,” she said. “I’m curious to see what for.”

“Soon, Miss,” Julia said, “they look ready to me.”

We stopped, and dread grew in me with each step my erstwhile crush took towards us, carrying a crystal tumbler in each hand. She stopped between us and held them out, a malicious smile on her lips. Pete and I exchanged nervous looks, then took the glasses.

 “We can’t have you making a mess on our nice gym floor, can we?” she said, stepping back.

There was a ripple of laughter from the rest of the team. I had a horrible suspicion of where this would end. Pete just looked confused, then shrugged, spat in his hand and started wanking again.

My erection had drooped a little, but leapt back to full stiffness the moment I wrapped my slippery fingers around the head once more. That familiar warmth in the tip was building immediately I slid my free hand over it. I was on the edge of orgasm, but the jeers from the girls to urge us on were off-putting.

Not for Peter, apparently.

“Oh YESSSS!” he exclaimed suddenly.

“The glass!” several of the girls called out.

His face contorted in ecstasy, he brought the vessel to his cock in time to catch the first stream. I watched it all squirt into the glass from his pulsing member. He slowed, squeezed out the last drops, and smiled at me to the sound of sarcastic clapping.

All attention shifted to me. I took a deep breath, spat into my palm, and started pumping my fist on my cock. I kept my eyes on it, watching the purple head. Heat was building, and I felt my balls tighten. Without prompting, I brought the glass up. I tightened my grip and moaned as the climax hit, eclipsing the catcalls. I managed to hold the tumbler steady enough to catch my ejaculate. I closed my eyes once some control returned to my hands, knowing the last few spurts would be less violent. As the last contraction ended, I became hyper-aware of the cool glass against my skin.

I opened my eyes as Julia approached. She took my tumbler and our eyes connected briefly. She took Peter’s glass and turned to her teammates, holding them up to the light. Wow! I thought my load was big, but Pete’s glass had nearly twice as much!

“Ladies,” Julia said, “I think the boys have enjoyed this too much, don’t you?”

“Yes!” came the group response. That post-orgasmic haze plummeted from my brain into my stomach like lead. I’d had an inkling what might be next, but the impending orgasm made it seem hot – no longer.

“Well, boys, we appreciate these gifts,” Julia said, raising the glasses of semen again, “however, we can’t accept them. Mrs. Barker needs her glasses back, though, so…” She handed them back. I held Peter’s glass, and he mine.

“No, no, no…” Peter shook his head as Julia walked away backwards, laughing.

“I can still walk you over to your headmaster,” Mrs. Barker called out. Peter groaned and shook his head.

“Drink his cum! Drink his cum!” A chant started.

“Fuck!” we mouthed to each other, then turned to face our judges.

The chant got louder, so I raised the tumbler to my lips, eliciting a cheer. The scent of cum almost overpowered me. Peter brought his glass to his mouth, and the girls started a countdown.

“Five! Four! Three!” Deep breath. “Two!” I braced myself. “One! Drink his cum!”

I tipped my head back. The thick substance cascaded over my tongue and filled my mouth before the glass was empty. The girls erupted in laughter and whoops. Peter finished his dose and his grimace turned into laughter, too, at my moustache of his cum. I swallowed, and then tipped the glass back again, trying not to gag. I quite liked the salty-sweet taste, but it was just such a strong, unfamiliar flavour, and felt so thick oozing down my throat. I lifted my glass, still licking the residue from my lips.

Mrs. Barker reclaimed the glasses. “Very good, boys,” she said quietly. “That’s enough for today. You can go.”

“We really are sorry,” I said to the crowd. Some nodded in acknowledgement – including Julia. Most laughed or made wanking gestures. I reached for my underpants.

“I said go!” said Mrs. Barker, sharply. “Get out before I change my mind!”

Peter and I scrambled to grab our clothes then headed for the door.

“Run boys!” Mrs Barker ordered once we were through. With howls of laughter chasing us across the field, we sprinted for the gate on the far side.

“I am never listening to your ideas again,” I panted to Peter when we were through and struggling into our clothes.

“Oh, shut up,” he said, grinning. “You enjoyed that even more than I did!”

He was right, of course. Still, I should never have listened to Peter.