… There was one in particular who stood out from the rest so far as I was concerned. I will refer to him as Robert, although that was not his name. He was tall and slender with a well-toned body. His head sported a mop of very dark wavy hair, hair that matched the dark tufts at the centre of his chest and running in a trail down to his genitals. His cock hung down straight and true, centred between two neatly hung balls in a loose sac. To me he was the epitome of male beauty. He was a prefect and as such was given the task to keep the juniors in line as they went into school and about the building during the day. That was where his god-like image all but fell off the pedestal upon which I had placed him. Robert was a bully. He liked his power over the younger students and would punch those who offended him or stamp on their feet, as we stood in line ready to march into school at the beginning of the day.
It was his bullying ways that were the origin of my fantasy about him. In those far off days the popular film entertainment was the Western. Week in and week out we would enjoy the adventures of cowboys and shake with vicarious fear as they were captured and prepared for torture by hordes of Native Americans. A favourite torture was to lash the victim to stakes with leather throngs, as he lay stretched out on the ground stripped to the waist to be left to the merciless rays of the noonday sun and the possibility of an attack by a rattler or a nest of voracious ants. This scenario was what I had in mind for Robert only in my fantasy the fear in his dark brown eyes with their long black lashes would not be anything to do with sun, snakes or even ants. His fate at my hands would be the humiliation of being jerked off by a punk he so obviously despised. Even now I see him squirming on the ground as he struggles to free himself. His efforts are in vain as I ply my attention to his stiff and erect cock, as I push back the folds of skin that all but cover the head that peeps so temptingly at me whenever this object of desire stands naked and proud in the locker room. His cum would splash onto his taught abdomen and I would delight in the embarrassment this would cause him.

As the years have passed and I have widened my horizons, so to speak, I have been able to embellish the attention I would apply to that glorious upstanding example of turgid manhood. Where in my innocence I would have jerked him to a climax, I would now be more likely to suck and lick and drool on his tool! My dream of giving Robert this humiliating attack on his member never reaches the point where I have to release him from his bonds. What he might then do to me in turn could well be the basis of another fantasy, assuming always that he would not merely thrash me to a pulp!
Robert’s cock was for me a means to revenge myself through lust upon a bully. Lust took a completely different form when I think about Martin, another guy. He and I were good pals and spent a fair amount of time together, hiking, boating and cycling. Our friendship was ever platonic and I often wonder whether he had any idea of the desire he aroused in me. He came from a fairly poor background as his father had died from a heart condition after a very long illness when Martin was about fourteen or so. His mother worked hard to keep both brothers in a good clean home. Something that struck me about Martin was the fact that he never wore underwear. Winter or summer he went what we now refer to as ‘commando’. This was not through choice but hard economics. His mother could not afford to buy her sons items of clothing that would remain unseen and so could be deemed unnecessary.
Martin and I would often swim along with the rest of our friends and it was through this activity and going to the gym that I became aware of his lack of undergarments. I always remember the occasion when he pulled up his pants and his dick got caught up in the fly. The action lifted the considerably sized piece of equipment, balls and all and ppointed them in my direction. Martin must have caught the gleam in my eye, for although he made no comment he gave me a look that I can see even now, so many years later. His eyes told me you can look but you can’t touch! How I have longed for a further look since but alas for whatever reason, I never, ever saw that delicious cock and balls again. We remained good friends and I would visit him and his wife from time to time until his job moved him far away and we completely lost touch. On the odd occasion, my mind will wander back to that event and I ponder on the thought of what might have been had Martin played along with my less than innocent intentions.
Another incident that caused my mind to race in a quite salacious manner was during the time I was serving in the armed forces. One evening, after a hot and humid day, I wandered down to the showers and stood soaking myself under the comforting stream of water when I was aware of voices coming into the shower room. Perhaps I should explain that the civilian staff normally used this particular shower room and while it was not exactly ‘off limits’ to us serving men, we did have our own facilities. I liked to use these showers as, after the staff had left, they afforded me with a greater degree of privacy. You see my problem was the fact that I was inclined to get an embarrassing erection if I was to take a shower with other guys. I was cut, while the majority of other guys were not and I would be subject to ribald remarks about donkeys and the like.
To get back to my story, I heard voices. Two guys had come into the shower room and I had - yes you’ve guessed it – a raging hard-on. If there is such a thing as wood, I was displaying the next best thing to a timber yard! I stuck my head round the side of the shower cubicle and saw that two very fanciable fellow soldiers had entered with just towels around their waists. They saw me look at them and both seemed somewhat sheepish. Now I had long admired both these two guys from a distance. They were very similar in appearance; about 5 foot 10 inches tall, well developed and really good-looking. They were both, how shall I put it, a ‘bit nice’. They were not the butch working class type that most of the other guys in the unit happened to be. From their reaction to my presence I gained the impression that they may well have had something more than just a shower in mind, in fact they almost turned and left when they saw me.
My concern was my rod sticking out as though it was a saucepan handle! I turned off the shower, grabbed my towel and tied it around my waist trapping my erection so that it was pressed flat but upright against my body. The bulge must have been very obvious to the pair of them but in their confusion over my presence they merely said “Hi!” in a strained and dry-voiced manner as I made my way back to my room. My active brain has since indulged in everything from voyeurism to dreams of a threesome involving those two handsome specimens. I often wish that I could turn the clock back and play out that little scenario in quite a different way.