There was nothing unusual about the village. The shop made sure to get everyone’s papers in for the morning, people would stop and chat at the garden gate and maybe buy a half dozen eggs, dropping a couple of pounds in the honesty box. If you went down to the pub everyone knew everyone and everyone was there and that was how it should be. There was a roaring fire in the winter, roasts on Sunday, pub quiz on Monday night, the folk musicians came in on Wednesday for a session and a free pitcher of beer as thanks for the tunes, and Saturday was Kev’s almost-world-famous karaoke. They weren’t unfriendly to newcomers either. When Ian and Barbara moved into the house next to the Fowler’s, you know, the one that used to be Terry and Julie’s son’s – oh what was his name? It began with an M, Terry and Julie Strong, M Strong, you know like the actor?

Martin? ...hold on, are you thinking of Mark Strong?

Yes! That was it, Martin, who looks a bit like Mark Strong!

No, he doesn’t,

Yes he does, well, he did, anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Ian and Barbara moved into Mark, no, Martin’s old cottage and they were welcomed by everyone. Barbara even sang which improved Kev’s karaoke night no end! And their son Hugh…

Hugh Bayley leaned on the drystone wall, feet frozen to the spot on the thin grassy verge where he and the other kids waited each day for the coach the school had hired to bring in the kids from the remoter villages in its catchment. His breath caught in the air and hung in billowing clouds as he (and the other kids from the village unlucky enough to not have parents willing to drive them into town) waited. Winter, Hugh had decided, after living in the village for a grand total of three months, was the worst. The old pipes in the house had frozen over again last night and the roads were so icy the coach was almost always late. Almost. If you had the temerity to think you could just get to the bus stop later in winter because the bus was always late then that would be, without fail, the one time the bus turned up on time. So Hugh and all the other long-suffering kids in the village had to wait outside in weak early morning light and often the freezing rain. Waiting for the fucking bus.

‘At least’ thought Hugh as he stared over the road at the ice that had formed overnight in a pothole ‘At least I get to wear reasonable clothes’. Hugh had joined the school in the lower sixth form and that (on top of being a guy) meant that he had been exempt from wearing the, frankly climatically inappropriate school uniform of pumps, tights, and a skirt the girls in the lower school had to wear. The look of having your miniskirt riding so high it barely covers the bum, on the older Year 11 girls, Hugh had to admit was a bit hot but it’s hard to look attractive when you’re trying to avoid hypothermia and frostbite at 7:30 in the morning. They all shivered collectively as the wind blew, subtracting any ambient heat and sucking the temperature firmly below zero.

“Hey, Hugh!” Charlotte Burns, a tall, smiley wand of a person waved at him from the other end of the line against the low stone wall. He turned his head, smiled slightly and gave a little wave back (the solid maximum necessary social interaction anyone could reasonably expect before 9:00 am) and she took that as an invitation to come over with her two friends and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Oooh,” said Maisie, but the novelty had worn off. Charlotte had had a crush a mile high for Hugh from the first time she’d seen him back in late August and was determined to make him her boyfriend.

“Hey Charlotte, hey Maisie, hey Lucy,” said Hugh. This was going to be a long day.

“So you know what you said to me on Bonfire night..?” started Charlotte.

“No…”

Hugh knew exactly what Charlotte was talking about. This had been her opening gambit for the last two weeks. Through the tiredness and annoyance, he had to admire her determination. None of the girls from his old school had really paid him much attention back in the city, let alone pursued him. Maybe they had all known each other too long. When you’ve all known each other since you were eleven or younger you sort of know everything there is to know. There’s no mystery. In the village, however, Hugh was fresh meat and Charlotte had made sure to mark him out as hers as soon as possible. Even if they weren’t going out. If anyone else tried to touch Hugh, they would likely end up very sorry indeed. This morning she was wearing her long straight brown hair loose down the back of her black puffer jacket. Hugh begrudgingly admitted that the blue skinny jeans were doing a good job of showing off her long shapely legs and she was wearing a dark ankle boot with a slight heel. She had a very pretty face with sparkling brown eyes and little dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, like just now.

“Yes, you do, silly,” replied Charlotte, laughing and punching his shoulder, “When I asked if you thought I was pretty and you said, 'Yes, you are,' and…”

There was a crashing splashing of icy puddles breaking and a deep vroom of a labouring diesel engine and a cheer went up from all the denizens of the curbside as Smokey drove the coach down the road.

“Ooh, gotta go, um, bye!” said Charlotte as she, Maisie, and Lucy ran back to join her friends waiting at the front of the queue.

Smokey was, everyone agreed, an absolute legend. He let you talk and play music or swap seats, his only rules were no smoking and nothing illegal. He was loved by every kid in the village and he would get that bus to school no matter what. There was a story that he had once been a Judo instructor and had fought Chuck Norris, but the second bit was mostly Harry Miller peddling the eternally hilarious Chuck Norris running gag. But there was a story of a time Smokey had found a kid, Fred Albright, had brought a knife onto the bus and he had legit thrown him off when Fred had threatened him with it.

There was a cake sale today. Hugh found out after hearing a couple of Year 8s talking excitedly on the bus. Hugh’s old school had never had cake sales. 'Who would even buy the cake?' thought Hugh. 'Who would bother to bring it?' But here the kids had their 50p and 20p coins and were talking about what they were going to get and if there were going to be cupcakes again. The bus rolled along. The older kids were chatting about other, less boring things but Hugh knew that they wouldn’t have forgotten either, and probably had a pound or two to get a nice slice of the big cakes they sold too.

***

Hugh’s worst-case scenario day did not (as luck would have it) transpire that day. He managed to make his avoidance of Charlotte seem effortless and even kept out of the way of Steve Burrow who hated Hugh for being a toff and a boffin. Hugh had thought everyone had agreed that that sort of crap was not cool since at least Year 10. Nevertheless, Steve had peaked at fourteen and was damned if he was going to not at least try to bully the new kid.

While at school, Hugh hung out with Chris and Jack as much as possible. He had met Chris in Maths and they had gotten along really well from the off. Jack was one of Chris’ oldest friends but when the forms were swapped around during GCSEs they had ended up in different classes despite being in the same set for basically everything. Hugh had met Jack in Chemistry. Chris and Jack were very happy to hang out with Hugh, especially as it meant they could hang out together again and they spent lunch and most of their free periods together. To add to his blessings, Hugh had been glad to see that this was not a day when he had Psychology. He liked the subject and the teacher in it was good but it was the one class he shared with Charlotte Burns and he was seriously considering dropping the subject next year, even though he was predicted an A.

“Yeah, but she is fit, though,” opined Jack philosophically through a sandwich at break. The cafeteria was packed (it being such a cold day outside) and Hugh, Jack, and Chris were in a corner that was technically put aside for sixth-formers. They had a couple of computers and the space was jealously guarded but it was just as noisy as anywhere else in the hall.

“I mean, sure, she’s on the netball team, she’s gotta be...”

“Don’t be a prick Chris,” said Jack again, looking at Chris’s smug face, “You know what I mean, she’s, like, really properly fit.”

“You ask her out, then,” replied Hugh with mild exasperation, “I’m just not interested.”

“Well I don’t see why not,” replied Jack suffering from a severe deficit of sympathy for his friend being chased by objectively one of the hottest girls in the year. “Mate, she is literally, like, she’s basically begging you.”

“I’m not interested, ok? Jeez.”

“I just don’t get it, Bayley, what’s your problem?”

“Hey, Hugh, do you think you could set me up with Maisie? You know...”

“Yes, Chris, I know. And no, I’m not doing it.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t even want you to set me up with like Charlotte. At least ask out Maisie for me?”

“You ask her out.”

"No way.”

“Why not?”

“Chris, you’re just scared of her because she punched you in the arm at Hallowe’en and gave you a dead arm for like an hour and...”

Just then Jack’s eyes wandered and Hugh and Chris followed them to see Nicole Fowler -or at least- the long curling blonde hair, bronze puffer jacket and shapely arse and legs wrapped in the tight pale blue skinny jeans of Nicole Fowler.

“Lol,” commented Chris adroitly as he and Hugh turned back as Jack continued watching Nicole -sandwich forgotten- for a good fifteen seconds. Jack sighed, apparently to himself and tuned back to see Hugh and Chris grinning at him.

“What? What, fuck off,” said Jack defensively, going red at the ears. “No, no, I don’t care. Whatever. Fuck off.”

The other two let Jack cool off a bit. Chris said, “Hugh, have you done the homework for Friday yet?”

“What, the calculus stuff? Didn’t we get that yesterday?”

“Yeah, but you know how they are. We’ll get more tomorrow.”

“I’ve been snowed under with Economics coursework.”

Chris pulled a face. “Eugh I forgot you did Economics. Why do I even like you, Bayley?”

“Seriously?” replied Hugh, “Chris, you do Philosophy.”

“And?” shot Chris with mock defensiveness, “it’s cool, I like it. I got given a copy of the Matrix.”

“I think you’ll find that Physics is objectively the best subject,” interjected Jack.

“Fuck off, Jack,” replied Chris, “everyone knows Physics is just applied Maths.”

“Yeah, Maths forever!” added Hugh, giving Chris a high-five.

***

“So Hugh, are you an arse guy or a boobs guy?”

Hugh was walking down the corridor after Economics with Nora. He liked Nora, she was fun, fit and usually hung out with the boys because she thought they were “less drama”.

“Ummm, I sort of like both?” replied Hugh.

“Yeah, but if you had to choose like one: like if you had to choose between like a girl with no arse but big boobs or a girl with small boobs but a big arse, which would you choose?”

“Umm, I think it would depend on what they were like?”

Nora sighed and Hugh could never tell if she was fishing or not. “That doesn’t matter here, Hugh. Which one?”

“But I like both!” Hugh protested.

“Fuckin’ hell, Hugh, answer the fucking question.”

“Fine,” said Hugh. “Boobs, I guess.”

Nora smiled. “So you like boobs more? Is that why you don’t want to go out with Charlotte?”

“What the fuck, Nora? No! Like, I think she’s got nice, uh, tits… Uh...” defended Hugh, going red in the face and feeling increasingly uncomfortable downstairs, “I, I just don’t fancy her.”

Nora smiled. Hugh liked it when she smiled but he didn’t feel like it was a “good-things-for-Hugh” smile.

“I’ve never heard you swear before,” she said in a sing-song voice.

“I swear. Just not a lot,” replied Hugh defensively.

“Oh yeah? I thought you were boring?”

“Wow, ouch, Nora.”

“Yeah, I thought you were boring and that was why you’d go out with Charlotte.”

“I’m not going to go out with Charlotte. Jeez.”

“Yeah, she is pretty vapid,” replied Nora, “I’d judge you if you did go out with her.”

“I don’t think she’s vapid, Nora. I think she’s nice.”

“Yeah, I know you think her boobs are nice.”

- twitch -

“That’s not what I meant. I mean: she’s a nice person, but I just don’t want to go out with her.” Hugh decided to try and flip the script: “What about you Nora?”

“What do you mean, what about me?”

“I dunno, like, do you prefer a nice ass or… I dunno, a strong chest?”

“Oh, cute arse definitely,” winked Nora. Hugh looked at her smiling and tried to ignore her cleavage.

-twitch -

“Well, see you later,” she sang. They had reached the end of the corridor which opened up into a large, low-ceilinged atrium and Nora sped off towards the Languages department. Not before, perhaps accidentally, slapping Hugh on the arse.

– twitch -

“Hey, Hugh!” It was Jack. Hugh exhaled, smiled, and walked over; glad to be free of the confusion of the previous conversation. Chris came up behind them holding a big slice of cake. “They’ve got coffee cake and carrot cake!” he said with a grin, “love cake sales.”

“What were you chatting to Nora about?” asked Jack.

“Oh, nothing really; she asked me if I liked asses or boobs more and thought that me like, liking boobs more was the reason I won’t go out with Charlotte.”

“And is it?” asked Jack.

“No Jack, of course not,” replied Hugh.

“Yeah Jack, our Hugh’s pure of heart,” chimed in Chris, “he’d rather shag Nora.”

Jack snorted.

“What the hell Chris?” shot Hugh, going red.

“Mate, you’ve been hard since your conversation with Nora. I was following you, just dipped back to get cake and there you were chatting with Jack with a bit of a stiffy. Now I know our Jack’s not much in the looks department-”

“-Hey!”

“So I knew it wasn’t because of him but I heard what you and Nora had been chatting about and I bet she noticed too.”

“What? you think so?” said Hugh, a bit panicky.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. Nora’s a flirt and a tease, she won’t judge you for it.”

“So you’re not gonna shag Charlotte now?” teased Jack.

“No. Jeez, Jack. When did I say I was going to do her?”

“You don’t have to go out with someone to do them,” observed Jack.

“He wants to shag Nora,” insisted Chris.

“Yeah, but that’s never going to happen,” said Jack flatly, “So you might as well do Charlotte.”

“Jesus Jack. Come on, let's go to Chemistry.” Hugh sighed resignedly, his cock still, uncomfortably, refusing to go down.

“Hugh, relax. It’s lunch now. We’ve got like an hour ‘till Chemistry. Let’s find somewhere where we can eat our lunch and Chris can mainline coffee cake,” soothed Jack.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Chris, who had, as if by magic, acquired more cake.

***

In fact, Hugh was pretty free of Charlotte Burns (besides Psychology and intrusive sex fantasies) until Tuesday next week when there was a knock on the door of the house. His mum answered it.

“Oh hello.”

“Hello Mrs Bayley, is Hugh in?”

“Yes, he is. Who should I say..?”

“Maisie,” said Maisie.

“And Lucy Millard, Mrs Bayley,” added Lucy.

“And Maisie Millard,” added Maisie glowering at Lucy.

“Oh Maisie and Lucy, of course. Maisie, how’s your Mum getting along with the choir?”

“Oh very well, Mrs Bayley,” said Maisie smiling a little.

“Please, call me Barbara,” said Mrs Bayley as she ushered the girls in out of the cold, “do you want a cup of tea, squash, lemonade?”

“Oh lemonade please, Barbara,” said Maisie.

“I’ll have a cup of tea please, Barbara,” said Lucy with an air of competitive maturity.

“Ooh, ooh, oh I don’t know!” sagged Maisie, who was wavering now between he deep unfathomable love of Lemonade and her desire to look as grown up as her cousin.

“Lucy, is your Dad getting any better?”

“Yes, Mrs – Barbara, thank you.”

“No, I will have lemonade,” said Maisie forcefully.

Barbara looked at her and could only think to say, “Good dear,” and made the drinks. Then she left the kitchen and called up the stairs.

Hugh had been sitting and praying as hard as an atheist seventeen-year-old can do that Maisie and Lucy Millard had not just come to the door, his mum had not just let them in and had not just offered to make them drinks. All his hopes were shattered when his mum called up to him. It was not that he disliked Maisie and Lucy; they were a bit odd, but nice enough; you might even call them pretty, but Hugh’s heart was leadened by the fact that wherever Tweedledum and Tweedledee were - Charlotte Burns was never far behind. ‘At least,’ he thought as he slumped down the stairs and put on his best, ‘Nice to see you’ smile, ‘if not spatially then certainly temporally.’

“Hi Maisie, hi Lucy,” he said as he entered the kitchen, with as much lightness as his doom-laden spirit could manage.

“Hi Hugh!” they both replied.

“Mrs – Barbara, is it ok if Hugh comes to hang out with us for a bit?” asked Lucy.

“Well, I suppose so, you’ll all be warm and safe out?” questioned Barbara.

“Yeah, we’ve got our hats and coats,” said Lucy.

“And I’ve got a torch!” added Maisie.

Barbara smiled at the two girls. “Well Hugh, better get your coat on, and don’t forget your phone.”

“Yes Mum,” came the reply deep from within the tortured soul of the embarrassed Hugh, as he went to get his coat and favourite warm hat.

“Hold on I need to finish my tea,” said Lucy as Maisie downed her lemonade and rushed back to the front door.

“Maisie dear, come this way and use the back door. Hugh’s just putting his boots on,” called Barbara as Maisie bounced down the hall.

Barbara had (for want of a better word) corralled Maisie by the time Hugh and Lucy were both ready and opened the back door onto the darkening evening.

“You all be safe ok? Supper’s at 7:30, Hugh, ok?”

“Ok, Mum. Love you.”

“Love you too, dear. Be safe.”

Lucy, Maisie and Hugh had left the crunch of the gravel drive behind and were walking down the road when Hugh asked:

“Maisie, you know Chris?”

“Chris Massey?” asked Maisie turning up to look at Hugh.

“Yeah, Chris Massey. You know he likes you right?”

“God, Hugh,” replied Lucy, “everyone knows Chris and Maisie like each other. It’s not, like, a new thing.”

“Then why don’t you two go out?” asked Hugh, puzzled.

“’cause he’s stupid,” said Maisie.

“Chris looked like he was going to ask her out at Hallowe’en but he totally fucked it,” explained Lucy.

“Ah,” replied Hugh.

“I’d do him if he asked me,” said Maisie.

“What the fuck, Maze?” retorted Lucy, hitting her on the arm, “You can’t just say stuff like that with him around.”

“Why not? Hugh’s a friend,” said Maisie, who had run to the other side of Hugh to hide from further punching and was holding onto his arm like a shield.

“Yeah but you can’t talk about, like, wanting to do his friends!” exclaimed Lucy, outraged.

“Why not? Bet he has a six-pack. Hugh, does he have a six-pack?” Maisie entreated, pressing his right arm into her side as they walked.

“Yeah? I think so,” replied Hugh, not feeling sure what to do. He was feeling a bit flustered. Even through her big old waxed cotton coat, he could tell - with his arm held firmly in Maisie’s grip - that she had pretty big tits and his hand dangled, not sure what to do with itself, at about hip height. That and he was now imagining Maisie and Chris having sex and that was definitely making him feel both awkward and very turned on. His cock stirred, but in the dark neither of the girls noticed.

They had been walking through the middle of the village in the last hints of twilight and as they left the lights of living rooms and kitchens, the clear night sky was revealed as a blanket of stars with a waxing moon casting gentle slivery light from high in its canopy. Orion stirred and leapt into prominence, that celestial hunter and unfortunate lover. Hugh had never really looked at the sky before coming to the countryside but it had quickly become one of his favourite things. He had been given a book a few years ago by an uncle who was the adventuring type; about how to tell your way using nature. It had never really interested Hugh before but he’d recently picked it up again and now knew that Orion’s belt lay almost along the Sky’s equator and he smiled as he spotted the Milky Way, that absurdly stupendous cascade of stars. The skeletal silhouettes of deciduous trees, dormant on either side of the lane was his only indication that there was anything else out there in the gloom. The night felt clean, the cool air crisp, the darkness pure. Without the orange tinge of streetlights reflected off cloud that often gives city nights a restless and muggy quality, Hugh felt himself relax as they walked over to Barrow farm and an evening with Charlotte.

***

It was the end of Wednesday afternoon, which was, for sixth formers, mandatory-self directed PE time. It didn’t make much sense to Hugh but it meant that he could play hockey and he and Chris had been with a group of other sixth formers on the astroturf and were walking slowly back with ball bag, well behind the rest of the group.

“Hey man, I really think you’d have a shot with Maisie, you know,” said Hugh, as nonchalantly as possible.

Chris looked for a moment like he’d been slapped in the face, but very quickly recovered.

“Oh yeah?” he said guardedly, “what makes you say that?”

“Maisie said so to me last night.”

“What? Maisie? You were hanging out with Maisie last night?”

“Yeah, and Lucy and Charlotte. The Burns have a little wood behind their garden and we sat out there and ate pizza and drank some cider.”

“Bloody hell mate,” said Chris looking impressed, “how did that happen?”

“Well, I think Charlotte sent Maisie and Lucy to come and get me. They turned up at my door and mum let them in and before I knew it I was on my way to hang out with them in Charlotte’s wood.”

Chris snorted. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Anyway she said she really fancies you and not gonna lie, mate, she gave me a hug and even through her coat I could tell her boobs were really big.” Hugh thought he could get away with a little lie, a white lie. It wasn’t not the truth, he just wasn’t sure about telling Chris about everything that had happened last night.

“I know, right?” replied Chris with a grin as they got to the sports cupboard and put the hockey ball bag away. “Last summer when she’d walk around wearing those strappy tops I used to get hard so fast. She so hot.”

“You mean she’s got big boobs,” countered Hugh sardonically, “you would have had no problem answering Nora’s question would you?”

“Wow, jeez man,” replied Chris. “One, Nora would never ask me that question because she doesn’t like me.”

“Really, why?”

“We were really good friends in lower school but we had a massive argument at like, the end of Year 11 and, I dunno, we haven’t patched things up.”

“I’m sorry mate,” replied Hugh.

‘Anyway, that’s beside the point because two: I absolutely wouldn’t have had a problem with the question, I’m boobs all the way and three: that was like a week ago Bayley and you’re still thinking about it? That’s still on your mind? Mate, just get drunk together and hook up already for fuck’s sake.”

Talking of boobs and Nora had got Hugh hard again and he was glad when they got to the changing rooms and everyone else was just finishing up.

“Hey mate, you want to get a shower?” asked Chris when they were the last ones left. The changing rooms had showers, but almost no one used them. Why would you get any more naked that you needed to get for longer than necessary, with other people, when lynx existed? Given the frankly carcinogenic concentrations of aerosols in the changing room air (especially when the lower school classes got changed) you might be mistaken in thinking that a quick shower might have been the better option for overall health, but who was going to choose respiration over embarrassment?

“Um, no thanks,” said Hugh. He was still sporting a semi and was a bit shy about it.

“Oh come on, we’re both sweaty and no one else is here. I don’t want to put on my clothes sweaty, come one.”

“I didn’t bring shampoo, or bodywash, or a towel,” replied Hugh.

“You can use mine,” said Chris brightly, “come on Bayley, live a little, what harm’s a shower going to do?”

“Ok, fine,” relented Hugh, stripping down to his boxers and coming into the showers after Chris.

The showers switched on, he turned round and started.

Chris was stood there, stark fucking naked, the water running through his short dark blond hair, over his closed eyes and face, down his neck and running over his shoulders, and pecs. Chris did karate, Hugh had learned and he looked now at the toned arms and his long fingers, water running off them in streams. The rivulets that ran down his chest fell over his abs and down into the brush of.. oh fuck. Hugh realised he was staring straight at Chris’s cock, straight at his cock and balls hanging gently between his thick muscled thighs. His mouth was watered, his legs weakened, and Chris snorted.

“Ha, caught you looking Bayley!”

Hugh felt his face go crimson and he spun around, almost losing his balance.

“Um, Chris, I, um, um.”

Hugh froze as he heard Chris’s footsteps behind him over the showers.

The shower stopped. Chris’s footsteps also stopped.

“Um, um, Chris, the shower.”

“Yeah?” answered Chris breathily over Hugh’s shoulder, “what about the shower?”

“Oh fuck,” said Hugh involuntarily as he felt his friend’s breath over his wet shoulder.

“You’ve got to lather up first Bayley.” said Chris in a low and cock-stiffeningly seductive voice, “here, let me help you.”

“Chris, I, fuck.” Was all Hugh could reply as he felt his friend’s long fingers start to massage shampoo into his scalp.

“Jeeesus, Chris, fuuuuck. I, I haven’t, I haven’t,” burbled Hugh.

“You haven’t what?” asked Chris running his soapy hands over Hugh’s shoulders and down his back, making his friend shudder. “You haven’t done anything like this before? Don’t worry nor have I really, I just saw the way you looked at me and I wanted to. If either of us says 'No' we stop. Ok?”

“Don’t stop,” replied Hugh.

“Ok, I won’t yet but if either of us don’t feel comfortable we say stop, Ok?”

“O-o-ok,” replied Hugh shudderingly.

“Cool,” said Chris “then let's keep going.” He stepped forwards and turned on the shower again. Hugh gasped. Chris’s hands were running down his chest, playing with his nipples before making a bee-line for his cock in his soaked boxers. Chris’s fingers ran up the length of Hugh’s aching erection and he almost passed out from the feeling coupled with Chris’s cock twitching against his arse.

“Silly Bayley, you’ve soaked a perfectly good pair of boxers,” chided Chris teasingly, one hand stroking Hugh’s chest, another cupping his balls. “we’d better take them off before they get dirty.”

“Yeah,” replied Hugh, getting his head a bit more together. He hooked his fingers around the elastic of the boxers and pulled them sensuously down, bending over as he did so.

“Fuck, Bayley,” breathed Chris, just audibly over the sound of the water.

Hugh stood up and reached behind his back and grabbed Chris’s hard cock gently and started to work his had up and down the shaft. “What are you waiting for Massey?” he teased, “this cock won’t stroke itself.”

He exhaled as he felt Chris’s arm reaching round him again and gripping his cock.

The two guys stood for a while, the water spilling over them as they pleasured each other.

“God, I want this as I finger Charlotte,” moaned Hugh as his cock swelled with the thought.

“Charlotte? I thought you wouldn’t touch her?” asked Chris inquisitively, but then not wanting to ruin a good thing he pressed, “you think she’d be ok with that?”

“I, I think so? She said she didn’t mind me getting with other people as long as she was told about it.”

“So you gonna tell her about this?” asked Chris, his cock throbbing in his friend’s hand as he felt the cock in his hand swell a little.

“I mean, I suppose so?” replied Hugh, “you ok with that?” he asked concernedly.

Chris paused for a moment and Hugh’s heart dropped.

“Yeah, fuck it, why not?” replied Chris, “as long as she can keep it a secret.”

“Yeah I think so,” breathed Hugh, “the coven’s pretty good at keeping secrets.”

“The coven?” asked Chris, “like witches?”

‘Umm, yeah? I suppose so? That’s what they call themselves,” replied Hugh.

“Fuck man, are you telling me Charlotte Burns is in a crazy free-love coven?” said Chris incredulously, stroking Hugh’s rock-hard cock even faster.

“Umm, I don’t think it’s necessarily a free-love thing, like Maisie and Lucy are the other members?” answered Hugh.

“Of course they are,” said Chris almost matter-of-factly, “well there we go Bayley, you can fuck me and fuck Nora, mmm, I love how you just swelled at her name, and here I was thinking you couldn’t get any harder.”

“Fuck you,” replied Hugh, pulling on Chris’s cock even faster. “I’m going to make you cum all up my back you bastard.”

“Ha ha, oh, fuck,” replied Chris as to handjob grew more intense, “not if I finish you first Bayley. I bet you wish you were standing here with Nora just panting as your fingers fucked her hot, tight cunt,”

-Hugh throbbed-

“with Charlotte standing nearby with one hand on her tits and another inside her pants, playing with herself as she watches the three of us fuck.”

‘I can’t let him win,’ thought Hugh to himself. He poured as much concentration as he could spare into his reply:

“Wouldn’t you just love it, Chris, if Maisie-”

“-oh fuck,” responded Chris as his cock throbbed.

“pressed her big soapy tits-”

“-Oh Jesus!”

“into your back and played with your balls as I-”

"Shit!” cried Chris as Hugh felt his friend’s cock pulsate as he came hot and hard, right up Hugh’s back. It was all Hugh could do not to cum on the spot.

“Anybody in there?” came the voice of Mr Nicks, the PE teacher from the other end of the changing room, mercifully shielded from a direct view of the showers.

The shock caught Hugh off guard and he came just as hard as Chris had done moments before. Chris had the presence of mind to turn the showers on again and call back: “Yes sir, all’s good. We’re just having a shower.”

“Well, good to hear someone’s using them,” called back Mr Nicks. Hugh was hoping Mr Nicks was not coming in to see them; the water was washing the cum off his back and off his hands, and his cock -the same with Chris- but even a quick glance would have shown Mr Nicks there was far too much semen in the shower for these two to have been ‘just having a shower.’ Mercifully, Mr Nicks didn’t come in any further and said: “Ok, well hurry up and get out. School’s almost over.”

“Yes sir,” they both replied. They heard the door close.

“Jesus Christ!” exclaimed Hugh as Chris burst out laughing, “I was sure he’d come in.”

“And you came so fucking hard!” replied Chris catching his breath, “seriously Bayley, that was fucking hot. Next time I’m sucking your cock,” he added, sucking cum off his fingers.

“Yeah?” said Hugh. After cumming, Hugh was feeling a bit shy again, not shy enough to try and cover up around Chris, whose cock was still leaking cum, delicious salty cum…

“Oh christ!” said Chris as Hugh knelt down and took Chris’ cock in his mouth.

“Jesus. Bayley,stop, we need to go you horny bastard,” he said trying hard not to laugh and gasp at the same time, “later you fucker later.”

Hugh gave him his attempt at puppy-dog eyes but relented and they finished up and left the shower.

Charlotte was waiting outside as they left the changing rooms, “Hey Hugh, hey Chris!” she said and planted a big kiss on Hugh’s face. Chris and he shared a look.

“Come on slow-coach we’re gonna miss the bus!” she said chidingly and set off for the bus at a run.

“See you later Chris!” shouted Hugh as he ran off.

“Later mate!” Turning, Chris froze. “Oh fuck,” he muttered.