"New Balls, Please!"

by Ivor Slipper

It just didn't happen when I was there and I can't believe it happened prior to then. There wasn't an official rule banning it, but you simply didn't do it, except in a few very particular circumstances. At the Archbishop Laud school you simply didn't fraternise with boys who were in years either above or below, your own. I suppose that may have changed by now; after all the early 1970s are a lifetime away – ancient history almost as far as the kids of today are concerned – and a hell of a lot has changed in the just short of fifty years that have elapsed.

It did though make sense. After all you were in an all boy boarding school which meant that during the school term you spent virtually twenty four hours a day in the company of the boys who were either in your dorm at night or in your classes during the day, and in a lot of cases, in both. Consequently you didn't need to look outside that group to find your friends, they were there all round you. It simply wasn't the done thing to try and make friends with boys who were one year younger than you, let alone two. Thus you weren't looking for friends there and neither were boys older than you looking to make friends with you.

As I said earlier, there were a few exceptional circumstances in which boys of different ages would mix. There was the choir, where boys of all ages participated; also the amateur dramatics group where the same thing happened; a few societies or clubs, such as those for chess and the stamp collectors; and then there was sport. However, sport didn't give much opportunity for mixing as generally teams were organised on an age basis. It was only if you really excelled at a team sport that you might be elevated to play with older boys, but it was more usual for it to happen if you were good at an individual sport such as swimming, or in my case, tennis.

Both my parents were very good tennis players; indeed they had met while playing tennis and subsequently fallen in love, became engaged and later married. I came along a couple of years after they had married and proved to be their only child – no doubles or mixed doubles for them as a result of their sex life off the court! When I say they were very good players I am not talking in terms of national status but they were both good enough to play on a few occasions for the county in which we lived. It was thus inevitable that they both spent a large amount of their free time at weekends virtually throughout the year, and in the evenings during the summer, playing tennis. It was equally inevitable that I accompanied them from a very young age. Initially I would be a disinterested onlooker who at some point changed to being an interested one and by the time I was about seven I had been bought my first racquet and could be seen hitting a ball against a wall at the club while my parents played the real game on either a hard or grass court. It was only a year or so before I progressed to playing the real game myself. As such I was a few years younger than most of the junior members at the club, but that proved to be an ideal way in which to improve my game. By the time I was ten or eleven I could play against any of the junior members and more often than not, beat them.

It was as I was approaching the age of eleven that my parents decided it could be a good thing for me to go to a private school. We lived on the eastern outskirts of London and all the schools in our area were comprehensive. They did not have a terribly good reputation - either academically or for sporting achievement. I was very keen on sport and apart from my tennis I also played football and cricket as well as being a keen swimmer. The proposition was discussed with me and in many ways it sounded attractive. Being an only child I was fairly independent, although I did have friends at my junior school, but none that I would miss greatly. The idea of boarding sounded quite exciting in some ways and although I would miss my parents we decided that if we found a suitable school within a reasonable distance they could come and visit me at weekends.

Thus the die was cast and my parents approached various schools to ascertain availability and cost. In the end the options were narrowed down to three – provided that I passed their entrance exam. Those actually proved to be a doddle and so the final choice was more or less left in my hands. And that was how I came to start at the Archbishop Laud school.

To be honest being away from home was more of a shock to my system than I had anticipated. I never got to the stage where I was crying myself to sleep, but there were a few nights in the early weeks when I got close and did wonder if I'd made the right decision. I think it was the regimentation and the lack of privacy that got to me initially, but most of the boys in my dorm were in the same boat and it wasn't long before friendships started to be made. Once that had happened then life took on a much brighter hue.

One of the things that had appealed to me about this school was the fact that it had four hard tennis courts and the same number of grass ones, although they could only be used in the summer. Sport was compulsory, but that wasn't a problem to me. I'd played cricket at my junior school and also football, but it was a bit of a shock to find that it was rugby that was played at AL. Can't say I enjoyed rugby much. Because I was quick on my feet I usually ended up playing in the three-quarters and most often on the wing. That normally meant standing around like a spare part for most of the game in the hope that the ball was passed as far as you without one of the other threes dropping it. It was thus mostly cold, wet and unpleasant. At least with football you seemed to keep moving around and could be more involved in the game, but that was the situation. For me tennis was much more enjoyable; you were always moving around - even if only to pick up the next balls to serve. Fortunately it was known that I was good at tennis so I was given permission to use the courts at the weekend.

Initially when I went there the first couple of times I was viewed with suspicion by the more senior boys who perhaps thought I had somehow managed to get out of rugby. But their views soon had to change once I'd started to play and beat some of them. It was a bit of a balancing act for me though. I wanted to prove I was good, but at the same time I sensed I could get myself a reputation as being a bighead if I beat too many of them. So I adopted a policy of not always playing flat out which seemed to work and I was accepted.

By the time my second summer at AL came around I was invited to play for the school team. We played doubles against other schools in our vicinity and the team comprised usually four pairs. It always did when matches were held at home because we had four courts, but sometimes if we visited other schools we might be reduced to three pairs because that was the number of courts they had.

Because we played on our courts throughout the year our coach had the opportunity to try out various pairings. I was left handed and not everyone liked playing with a leftie, but one weekend I had been paired with Chris Bailey. He was right handed and a year older than me, but we just clicked. After a while we almost seemed to instinctively know what the other was going to do, so we became very good with our court coverage and ability to return balls that would have defeated other pairs. Indeed that year we played as our No 2 pair and achieved a number of good results. By the following year because the two who had been the No 1 pair had left the school we automatically became the No 1 pair despite our youth – Chris was fifteen and I was only fourteen.

We had also become friends, but only within the limits that were normal within the school. Chris persuaded me to join the Debating society and I persuaded him to join the Chess club – a hobby I had taken up some years previously. Both of these extended the opportunities for us to spend time in each other's company. However, as we didn't sleep in the same dorm our friendship was never anything other than just being 'pals'.

It so happened that we both lived in London. Actually, Chris did indeed live in London, and a pretty central part of it at that – Highgate – which even in my tender years I knew to be one of the areas where the rich people lived. I, on the other hand, could really only claim to live in London because of the 'Greater London' expansion. My parents preferred to say that we lived in Essex, which is where Buckhurst Hill was, but to me Essex conjured up mental pictures of places like Southend and Basildon, so I normally told anyone who wanted to know that I lived on the outskirts of London. And that was indeed true, but because we were on the Central Line it did take only about three quarters of an hour to be in Oxford Street or some such place.

Chris and I had a very good 'season' that summer term and went through it unbeaten, which earned us lots of praise from the sports master and indeed a special mention from the Head at the end of school Assembly. Even so, it came as a bit of a surprise when Chris asked me if I fancied meeting up during the holidays. I immediately agreed; we exchanged phone numbers and he said he'd give me a ring once we'd both had a chance to enjoy being at home for a few days.

He was true to his word and about a week after I'd got home he called one evening. My mother had answered the phone and of course she knew all about my doubles partner so they had a little chat before she passed the phone to me. After we'd exchanged the usual sort of pleasantries he asked if I fancied meeting him on the following Tuesday in Hyde Park. I said 'yes' and then thought I'd best check with my mum that she was happy for me to do so. She had no objections so it was agreed that we'd meet at 2pm. Chris told me that I had to wear my tennis gear, but that I needn't bother to bring a racquet. On the basis that he lived much nearer than I did, I presumed that either he was bringing racquets for both of us, or that it would be possible to hire one wherever it was we were going to play.

I set off in plenty of time and being well outside of rush hour the tube was not crowded – at least until we got into the central zone where quickly all the seats were taken and people were standing. Naturally once all the seats were taken I gave mine up to an older lady and stood holding onto one of the posts that separated the seats from the doorway. As Chris had asked I'd dressed for a game of tennis, but wasn't wearing all white as I would if playing at school. I'd put on a pair of Dunlop 'Green Flash' plimsolls and had on a pair of white socks with three red bands at the top, that came up to just below my knees. I was wearing a pair of pale grey shorts that were made of a material that gave off a sort of sheen. They had white stripes up the side and there was a slit of about three inches on the outside of each leg that the stripe went down. They were quite short and showed almost a foot of my leg above the knee. However, they were very comfortable and with the split in the leg enabled me to move easily on the court. I also had on a loose fitting grey t-shirt with a cap sleeve and had remembered to put on my watch so I could keep a check on the time.

I guess I did stand out somewhat dressed like that in central London! Plus which my arms and legs were very tanned – indeed virtually my whole body was. The previous summer we had spent a fortnight on the Costa del Sol and I'd acquired a very nice sun tan there all over my body with the exception of the area which had been covered by my speedos. That tan had been topped up on the exposed limbs while playing tennis last term. All in all I did look rather different to the average young person.

As I said the carriage got crowded one we got as far as Liverpool Street which was where I gave up my seat. It was only a few stops to Marble Arch so I didn't mind standing. I did sense, almost feel, on a couple of occasions that people were pressing up against me more than was necessary, as although the train was crowded it wasn't packed. Indeed once when the train lurched a man actually put his hands on my bum - to steady himself I guessed.

After getting off at Marble Arch I made my way into Hyde Park. We'd decided on a meeting place, and although I hardly knew the park I was fairly confident I headed to the right place. My watch told me that I'd arrived just after 1.45, so I had about fifteen minutes to wait, but hopefully Chris would be early. Anyway, I found this individual wooden seat near the lake and sat down to wait.

It was very strange as within a few minutes a couple of men had come up to me. The first one asked me if I was free, so I told him I was waiting for someone. The second one asked if I'd like him to buy me a drink, which I declined. Then a third one came along and suggested that if I went with him he'd show me a good time! By this point I was getting quite concerned and was hoping that Chris would soon arrive.

About five minutes before he was due another boy came along. He looked about the same age as me. He had long blond hair that came down to his shoulders, a sleeveless black t-shirt and the shortest pair of blue denim shorts I'd ever seen. They only came down just below his groin and fitted him so tightly I wondered how he could walk. Of course as he came towards me I also couldn't help noticing the way those shorts bulged at the front. The boy came right up to me.

"Oi! What you doing in my spot. Fuck off outa here." he growled at me.

"I'm just waiting for someone. The seat was free so I sat here." I replied.

"You fuckin' find somewhere fuckin' else to meet your fuckin' customers! You ain't 'aving my spot."

Now he looked angry and glancing down I could see him balling a fist.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just waiting for a pal to have a game of tennis."

He started to laugh.

"Fuckin' 'ell. That's what yer calls yer ball games is it?"

I looked puzzled, having no idea what he was talking about.

"Oh fuck! Yer really are 'ere ter play fuckin' tennis aintcha?"

"Of course - why else would I be dressed like this?"

He crouched down beside me. As he did so I waited for the sound of those shorts ripping, but they must have been contained some sort of stretch material.

"Look, kid." I almost laughed when he called me 'kid' as I sure I was at least as old as him. "I dunno if yer mate set yer up or if yer didn't understand where 'e meant yer to meet 'im, but this is where us kids come looking for punters."

I still didn't understand what he meant which he must have guessed.

"Fuck it kid. I'm a runaway. Left 'ome, came to the bright lights an' found I gotta sell me body to survive."

"Oh shit. I'd no…..idea."

"Nah, should've known just lookin' atcha – yer too clean an' innocent lookin'. But ya could make good money," he finished with a chuckle, before adding, "punters pay top whack for new flesh."

I stood up.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"Hey, I think yer mate might be at the caff. Saw some young bloke dressed a bit like you sat outside as I came past."

"Thanks. I'll try there. Thanks. Best of luck!."

He just grinned at me and said nothing. After I'd walked a little way in the direction of where he'd pointed when he mentioned the café, I looked back. He was talking to an older man and as I watched the man put his arm round the kid's shoulder and they walked off together.

It didn't take me long to find the café and I quickly saw Chris sat outside it at a table with a glass of something in front of him. Immediately he saw me he put a finger in the cleft between his lip and his nose and a little smile appeared on his face. He was certainly dressed for tennis being in full Fred Perry gear – white tennis shirt with red piping on collar and hem; white tennis shorts with matching red piping; plain white socks and white tennis shoes. Very smart he looked.

"Did you set me up?" I asked as I sat down in the chair opposite him.

"Set you up? What do you mean?"

"I've been sat on a chair down there by the lake for the last twenty minutes or so in which time three men have tried to pick me up. Finally a kid explained the facts of life to me!"

Chris doubled up laughing. It took him all of a minute to recover.

"You must have misheard me. I said to meet at the café near the lake as opposed to the café on the other side of the park. I didn't say to meet at the lake. Yeah, I've heard that's a pick up point for rent boys."

That was something else I'd learnt today – my education was being expanded.

He asked me if I wanted a drink and went to get me a lemonade. We sat and talked for a while discussing how our holidays had gone thus far and then I asked him where were going to go to play tennis.

"Oh, we're not playing tennis." Chris responded.

"So what are we doing and why are we both dressed in our tennis gear?"

"I thought it was going to be hot today and I reckoned we'd easily be able to spot each other in our kit. As for what we're doing, I've got a little treat in store for you."

"What's that?"

"I thought we'd go to the cinema."

It seemed a strange thing to do on a hot afternoon, but I agreed. Of course being the West End the cinema was air conditioned and thus nice and cool inside. Chris insisted in paying for both our tickets which pleased me as I hadn't brought a lot of money with me; indeed I just had a couple of notes tucked inside one of my socks and a small amount of change in the pocket of my shorts.

I clearly recall what the film was that we saw. It was called 'Callan' starring Edward Woodward as a British spy, come assassin. I believe it was a follow up to a TV series, but I'd never seen that so I had no idea what to expect. The cinema was fairly deserted as evidently most people had better things to do on a decent summer's day. Chris headed for a row at the side and led the way to a couple of seats. We'd been there for about ten minutes when I felt his right hand touching my left knee. After a couple of minutes it began to slide slowly upwards until it reached the hem of my shorts.

Now I'd been pretty naïve with the boy in the park, but having spent a couple of years at a boarding school I wasn't totally dumb. I wanked, probably every day and twice on Sundays, as the saying goes. I'd also wanked off with a couple of other boys in the dorm. 'Mutuals' after lights out was a fairly common practice. Thus I had a pretty good idea of what Chris wanted and where this could lead. The strange thing was though that although I'd played a lot of tennis with Chris and often seen him naked in the showers afterwards, it was only in the last few weeks of the term that I'd started to think of him in a sexual way. I'd started to fantasise about him tossing me off and now it seemed that could actually happen.

As his fingers had stroked their way up my leg I'd gone hard and now had this five inch rigid pole in my shorts. My fantasies had never extended as far as being tossed off in a public place and our current location added more than a frisson of excitement to what was happening. I guess there was a risk of us getting caught, but it was dark and the place was pretty empty, so the chances seemed small. But the main thought I had was simply – where else would an opportunity ever occur again?

I reached my left hand down, picked up his right and placed it directly over my prick. 'Nice' he murmured, "wanna feel mine?" Indeed I did and I moved my left hand onto the front of his shorts where his own hardness was very evident.

He moved his hand from where I'd placed it and his fingers started to explore up inside the leg of my shorts. I wasn't wearing any underpants and as the shorts were loose fitting, his fingers soon made contact with my balls. It was hard to keep silent as he rolled them around. Then as suddenly as they'd arrived, they were gone.

"Lift up," he whispered. I did and with him pulling on one leg and me pushing on the other, my shorts were lowered to knee level. The bottom of my t-shirt had dropped into my lap so I used one hand to raise it and give him access. I felt his hand come onto my foreskin and start to tease it forwards and then slowly back, causing me to give little moans of pleasure.

He stopped and I looked at him before looking around to see if someone had spotted us, but everything looked as it had before.

"You know I've wanted to do this for you for ages David. No chance at school, so had to set this up to see how you felt."

"Do I feel good?" I whispered with a chuckle.

"Every bit as good as I hoped, you cheeky little blighter. Look, I'm going away with my folks at the weekend for two weeks – we've got a place down in Cornwall. Do you want to come? It's got a tennis court so we can play there."

"Sounds good. I'll have to ask my parents and yours will have to speak to them to make the offer, but yes, it sounds great. What's the sleeping arrangements?"

"We would be sharing a room, but it's got twin beds. Bit like a school dorm, only less crowded."

"I might feel lonely and scared in a strange bed in a strange house."

"Don't worry. I'll look after you – you can always share mine."

We both let out very quiet laughs. Throughout the exchange he'd kept hold of my prick, every now and then playing with the foreskin.

"So we'll both have new balls to play with?"

Chris let out a loud laugh as I said that and let go of my prick. I quickly pulled my t-shirt down to cover the area. The nearest person to us glanced our way and shushed us, but that was all. When nothing else happened Chris moved his hand back.

"So, do you want to come?" he asked.

I couldn't stop myself, "Now or next week?" I replied.

"Both," he said, struggling hard to not laugh out loud again. "I've got a hankie in my pocket you can use. Here," he fished it out with his left hand and passed it to me. I placed it over my shorts and he increased the pace of his stroking. Soon I felt myself tensing as ejaculation drew close. He cupped the end of my prick as I came and his hand and the hankie ensured that my shorts stayed free of any tell tale marks.

When I'd recovered I asked Chris if he wanted me to return the favour. Probably wisely he said he thought we'd pushed our luck as far as we should for the afternoon. There'd be plenty of opportunity next week, but if for some reason my parents wouldn't let me go, we'd arrange another meeting in the park during the holiday and watch another film.

By the time the film ended it was the evening rush hour so we went into a nearby Wimpy Bar for a quick burger and a drink. After that I had the pleasure of taking the Central Line back to Buckhurst Hill. Although the peak of the rush hour had passed the carriage was still crowded and I had to stand. Once again I was sure that a couple of people managed a quick feel of my arse. If only they knew it had been sat naked on a cinema seat an hour or so earlier…..

Chris did call later that evening and his mother duly spoke to mine. My parents discussed the invitation and because they had met Chris and his parents, albeit briefly, when they visited me at the school and we'd been involved in a tennis match, they decided it would be alright for me to go.

Thus early the following morning my father drove me to the Baileys' house in Highgate where I and my suitcase were transferred to Mr Bailey's Jaguar Mark X for the trip down to Cornwall.

I have to say they were very friendly and quickly set me at my ease. They were of a higher social standing than my family – he was a barrister at one of the Inns of Court - and as for Mrs Bailey, well she looked after the house, along with a live in lady who did all the cleaning and a lot of the cooking. In view of their money I was surprised that Chris only went to AL as they could have afforded to send him to a much more expensive school. But I found out from him later that both his father and grandfather had attended AL, so it was on the principle of 'what was good enough for me is good enough for you.'

As for the holiday, well that was fantastic. The house was virtually on the beach so Chris and I spent a lot of time there. The weather was warm, no make that hot, and sunny for nearly the entire fortnight, so we did a lot of swimming. Because it was so hot we tended to play tennis either in the mornings while it was still fairly cool, or in the evenings. We also ate out nearly every night as Mrs Bailey didn't want to spend her time cooking, so we visited virtually every pub and restaurant within a twenty mile radius during our stay.

It turned out that Chris' room wasn't exactly a twin bedded one. In an arrangement I'd not seen before it had a twin and a single bed, so I suppose it was originally meant as a family room. In fact the house did have a couple of other bedrooms that I could have slept in, but Chris had told his parents that we preferred to share a room. I guess because we both slept in dorms at school that didn't strike them as strange.

The tone for our two weeks was set on the first night. Both beds had been made up by the woman who came in daily from the village, so at first I had no definite idea what Chris' intentions were. When it came time for us to retire we both said goodnight to his parents and headed upstairs. Chris told me he was going to have a shower and headed off in that direction. When he returned I was sat on the single bed reading a book. He had a towel round his waist and was carrying the clothes he'd been wearing in his hand. I took that as my cue to go and shower and returned attired in similar fashion.

When I got back he was lying on his back on the double bed; of the towel there was no sign. He was erect, displaying the full length of his six inch plus uncircumcised penis. He was gently stroking it and had a smile on his face.

"Do you want some new balls to play with?" he asked.

"I always enjoy serving with new balls."

"In that case you can serve me," Chris retorted with a dirty chuckle.

I needed no further invitation and my towel was thrown onto the single bed where it spent the night. I climbed onto the double one and proceeded to bring Chris off. Once I'd done that he made a point of locking the bedroom door and we snuggled together under a sheet.

It was the first of thirteen nights of varying pleasure and enjoyment. He definitely knew a lot more than I did, but I guess that year difference in our ages explained that. I think I can safely say that while he was a good teacher I was an excellent pupil. By the third night I had been shown how to give a blow job and demonstrated I had mastered the technique the following one. On the fourth night I was shown how it was possible to give each other a blow job at the same time. By the end of the first week we had mastered that to the extent that we could not only coordinate our coming, but also ensure that nothing was wasted. In the second week we moved on to more advanced things. Chris gave me a practical demonstration of rimming and the next night I proved to him I had learnt well. After that, and having told me that if I wanted him to he would stop at any time, came the night on which he fingered my prostate, producing a reaction and an ejaculation the like of which I'd never previously experienced. I simply had to return that favour the following night.

All too soon it was our last night. There was only one way to mark it – yep, we went through our entire repertoire and it was two extremely tired, but happy, boys who left Cornwall the next morning. At least his father's Jaguar gave a very comfortable ride and we both slept for most of the journey.

After we'd got back my parents insisted on inviting him to come and stay with us for a weekend. We had a good time, but with them being in close proximity our opportunities for any sexual activity were minimal – especially as he was given the guest bedroom.

Chris did suggest that I come up to London once more before the end of the holiday, but we agreed beforehand it would be silly to try and replicate the previous time. Thus we both dressed normally and spent our afternoon going round Regent's Park Zoo!

All too soon the summer holiday was over and it was almost time to return to Archbishop Laud. Only I never got there. On the Sunday of the weekend before I was due to go back my father collapsed on court while playing in a tennis tournament. He'd suffered a major heart attack and died instantly. Fortunately, partners for this one had been drawn by lot so he wasn't playing with my mother. I am sure that had they been on court together she would forever had blamed herself in some way, although she would have been in no way responsible. I was also playing in the tournament, but happened to be in a match on another court at the time. At least my being there saved my mother from having to break the news to me later.

It came as a terrible shock to her, to me and to all his friends and relations because everyone had considered him to be a very fit man. Looking back afterwards I can see that while he was far too young to die, going in that way was good for him. I was assured that he would only have suffered momentary pain and if he had contracted something like cancer, his death would have been long drawn out and very painful. Plus he died doing something he loved.

Chris and his parents did come to the funeral which was the last time I saw him. We did exchange occasional letters for a while, but then simply drifted apart.

I have been very grateful for the things that he taught me during that holiday. Even now whenever I am watching Wimbledon on TV and the umpire gives the instruction to the ball boys for 'new balls', I have a little chuckle – sometimes to myself and sometimes out loud. Whenever I do it out loud I get this look of resignation from Roger, my long time partner both on and off the court.

Voting

This story is part of the 2018 story challenge "Inspired by a Picture: Waiting". The other stories may be found at the challenge home page. Please read them, too. The voting period of 22 June to 12 July 2018 is when the voting is open. This story may be rated, below, against a set of criteria, and may be rated against other stories on the challenge home page.

The challenge was to write a story inspired by this picture:

New Balls, Please!

You may tick as many statements as you wish. Stories my also be discussed in detail on the Literary Merit forum If there were further stories about this I'd read them It grabbed my attention early on I had to know what happened I identified with at least one of the cast Gritty - it had an edge to it Realistic - it could have happened that way I found it hard to follow Good characterisation I feel better for having read it It was romantic It was erotic Too much explicit sex It had the right amount of sex, if there was any Not enough explicit sex I have read and enjoyed other work by this author It was true to the picture Current Results