Early September came around soon enough and I was back at school, in what they call the Lower Sixth Form in the UK, equivalent to a Junior in the US (more or less). I'd spent all but a few days of the holidays with my family, which was OK but not where a sixteen-year-old with a newly discovered sex drive wanted to be. Since I'd left school in July, I had lost touch with Roberts, and I missed our Sunday afternoon sessions naked on his narrow bed. I was sleeping badly, and wanking two or three times a night; I was ready to get back to the randy male company of the dorm.

A regular feature of Saturday afternoons (mornings of course being school work, such is boarding school life) was the cross-country run, which I had always enjoyed, being a fairly capable runner over the distance. We set out in a pack in our brief nylon school shorts, tight butts and taught thighs on display (maybe that's why I enjoyed the cross country...). About halfway round the course we were all pretty well strung out when an older boy passed me, and then settled in just ahead. This was OK, he had a great body, and I was intrigued to realise I could plainly see the black straps of a jockstrap stretched over his muscular buttocks under the thin nylon. We went along like this for half a mile or so when the track widened, and he dropped back to run at my side.

He introduced himself as Mike, from one of the other boarding houses so our paths hadn't crossed before. Then he said something that got my full attention.

'I was camping last month with a friend of yours, Roberts. He said I should look you up. Well, actually he said I should look you up and you might be looking for a friend.'

You can imagine I was not sure where this was going. Had Mike been talking to Roberts about me in the holidays, and if so what the fuck had been said?

The next thing Mike said left no room for doubt.

'He also said you had a great ass, which I have to agree with having run behind you for a mile or so. Mind you, when he said that his cock was halfway down my throat. He said I reminded him of you.

'So I think we both know where we are coming from, and we both know how to keep a secret. If you're interested when we get back to the locker room there's an idea you might like...'

Having dropped his bombshell he grinned, pulled ahead and left me to contemplate his jockstrap for the rest of the run.

Given the daze I was in by then, I ended up in a good spot, maybe tenth or so in a pack of fifty runners. We all piled into the locker room, and the air was full of crude comments and the showers full of naked bodies in no time. Mike was off to one side, still in his running gear, and he caught my eyes and smiled. I went over and he surprised me by saying we had a meeting with Mr. Peters in his office.

Mr. Peters was one of the schoolmasters. He was a recent recruit to the teaching staff, having been there only a couple of years, and he was in his mid-twenties. Officially he was Assistant Sports Master, which meant he got the short straw of working at the weekends and evenings while the more senior Sports Master put his feet up. It's also worth saying that Mr. Peters was a gay guy's wet dream. He was tall and slim, and as fit as a twenty-five-year-old sports master can be. We knew this, apart from anything else, from the fact that he would run two miles on the school track every morning while we were on our way to class. He had a killer ass and more than a suspicion of a bulge in his shorts. So if he wanted me to do something, there was a good chance I'd do it for sure.

I knew Mr. Peters was in charge of the school athletics program, which is why he was here today supervising the Cross Country. Mike and I went to Mr Peter's office and we sat round a table, while he explained he was looking for Mike to be this year's Athletics Captain, and Mike had suggested me for Vice-Captain, which would mean I got to coach the under-sixteen teams and help Mike with the inter-schools Cross Country in the winter, and the spring and summer program of sprint and distance races.

'Of course,' said Mike, 'this will mean helping me here Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, putting kit away, closing up the locker rooms and so on, as Mr. Peters would be leaving the keys to us to look after.' I thought about those keys for all of five seconds, and readily agreed to the idea.

While all this was being discussed the locker room fell quiet, and we realised the guys had all showered, dressed and headed back to their houses. The only people who were still in running kit were Mike and me... and then Mr. Peters dropped his little surprise in the shape of the locker room keys, which he fished out of his pocket and slid across the table.

'Lock up after you leave, guys, make sure everyone has cleared out, I've an appointment,' he said, then grabbed his jacket, pulled the door shut behind him, and we heard the decisive click of the lock snapping shut.

So there were Mike and I, alone in the locker room with the full permission of school authority, and about to get naked in the shower...

I felt a bit unsure of what was coming as I walked over to the locker where I'd left my towel and clothes. I didn't have much time to worry though - as I lifted my shirt over my head, Mike was right behind me, his hands on my bare chest and his fingers squeezing my nipples. I gasped and pushed back, to feel the bulge of his jock in the crack of my ass. I felt the familiar wash of lust overcome any inhibitions I might have had, and a moment later he'd spun me round and our tongues were in each other's mouths, the breath hard in our chests, and our cocks rubbing against each other through our shorts.

Suddenly my brain fused. I lost all sense of time, indeed sense of anything beyond a consuming lust for sex.

I dropped to my knees and tugged his shorts off, revealing his tightly packed jock, the pouch of an almost transparent open mesh. I couldn't resist licking and sucking on the taut fabric over his cock and balls, which he surely seemed to enjoy judging by the way he was squirming and panting, his hands in my hair as he shoved his crotch into my face. Overwhelmed by his raw masculine smell, I grabbed his thighs to hold myself up, alternately flooding the pouch of his jock with saliva, and sucking the wetness back into my mouth, determined to get every taste and scent of his sex.

I slid my hands under the waistband of his jock, and in moments it joined his shorts on the floor, and I got my first chance to admire his now hard and dripping cock. Seven inches of smooth, straight, uncut shaft sprung from his crotch, thick veins running along the underside, and his foreskin pulled back by the strength of his erection, now pointing almost straight up to the ceiling. There was clear fluid seeping from his hole, running back down his shaft until I smoothed it over his cock with my hand, relishing the slippery hot feel of him. He groaned out a deep sensual moan, pulled me to my feet, slid his hands inside my shorts to hold my ass, pulling our bodies tightly together.

'I think,' he gasped, 'we'd better get in the shower before one of us cums all over the floor.'

I stripped off my shorts and socks, earning an appreciative moan when my tight butt was finally exposed, along with six or so inches of cut cock that was about as hard as Mike's by now.

'Oh fuck,' he said, running his hands over my curves. 'That's one fabulous naked ass.' He spread my cheeks and slid a finger up my crack, to my intense pleasure. My mouth was on his again, matching the probing of his finger in my ass with my tongue in his mouth.

'I think maybe we could use some soap,' he gasped when, after some long time (a minute? an hour? forever?), we broke apart.

We headed into the shower and cranked up the flow. Standing panting, facing each other and a couple of feet apart we soaped up and watched each other's hands roaming over our bodies, sluicing the sweat and heat. There was a moment when Mike's expression changed; he moved toward me and turned my to face the wall.

'Lean on your arms,' he said, 'spread your legs for me.' I did as he asked, leaning forwards, my ass pushed back and my legs spread, ready for what I hoped was coming next. His hot wet tongue was still a shock as he shoved it right into my ass - I gasped, moaned loudly, writhing and thrusting my ass against his face. This was what I wanted, needed - nerves on fire, the sense of molten pleasure flowing through me. Without stopping his furious ass eating, he reached a soapy hand round to my cock and brought me to the edge in seconds. He turned me round, my butt slamming against the unyielding tiles of the shower room, and told me to reach up and grab onto a pipe running under the ceiling. I was spread-eagled, arms and legs apart, cock hard and high.

'I think a little payback comes next,' he grinned. Then my cock was sucked into his mouth. I swear I screamed, muscles in my stretched arms standing out hard on my skin. And then he pulled back, leaving me high and dry, panting for release. So he did it again, and again until I was literally begging him to get me off.

With a smile he stood, his cock touching mine, wrapped his soapy fist around both our shafts and in moments we were spraying cum onto our chests to drip to the floor. Pulse after pulse, rope after rope, the two streams blending and falling together, splashing around us as we dropped exhausted to the floor and lay back under the shower.

'You do realise,' Mike gasped, 'we get to do this every Wednesday and Saturday for the next six months.'

'Fuck...' was all I could manage in response.

And we did. Well, we didn't fuck exactly, that happened a little later in my story, but we spent many happy hours in that shower, and only imagination limited the explorations and pleasures of hands, fingers, mouths, cocks, nipples, armpits and every other square inch of flesh we had.

As time went on I realised what's probably been obvious to you since the beginning of my story. That I was a natural anal bottom, happiest with my butt spread and my legs wide apart feeling the intense pleasure that stimulation back there triggers. I knew before long the time would come for my first real ass fucking, but Mike and I never quite got there, and really I was waiting for someone more experienced to be my first.

And then the summer holidays after my seventeenth birthday came along, and things worked out just perfectly...