Dave had been a new arrival at the school. He was shorter than the other boys with brown scatty hair and a widish face. His outstanding feature was he bottom whoch was fantastically rounded - perfect in every way. He was in my science class which involved a lot of gathering round the teacher's large work table on our lab stools. Every lesson I would make sure that I pulled my stool up behind Dave so that his amazing arse was in full view. I then spent most of the scientific demonstrations pretending to look at my norebook whilst in reality keeping my eyes firmly on Dave's shapely buttocks. I would lean forward so that I could get as close to his bottom as possible and I can remember the detail of the fine twill on his grey school trousers. Many happy lessons were spent gazing at Dave's assets and he became my new firm favourite until he left at age 16. As a 16 year ole he was caned for carving his name onto the desks in one of the classrooms and with my fascination of the cane and his bottom, this was so arousing.

One science lesson all we had to do was to revise and by angling my stool and workbook, I gave a presentable impression of someone rapt in revision whereas I spent thrity glorious minutes staring non-stop at his behind. I can only remember seeing his bare bottom once, when he and his mate Rob, had been caught out not having a shower. They were made to strip naked and head into the showers and I can remember the excitement of seeing his white underpants descending and his pinkish buttocks wobble into the shower. I enjoyed his return, his uncut 16 year old cock dangling there beautifully.

Also into that shower went Rob, a taller lad with cute freckles. On his return I was able to stroke his naked flesh without him realising. Rob may have been gay. I fantasise about him to this day and what might have been. He too was caned for the carving incident and he complained to me a few days later that he had got more strokes and it was unfair. Also, he told me, his bottom was bruised, and I think I must have said I didn't believe him because I'm sure he offered to prove it. Never happened worst luck. Rob was rather lovely and a bit picked upon. Other boys frequently bullied him by squeezing his balls. Once I saw this happen whilst he was totally naked. Another time he was whcked on his bare bum by other boys. He complained to me about it as he pulled his underpants on and I gave him another strong whack across his already sore buttocks.

Ywo other boys in my class also brought me great pleasure and one of them, I'm sure was gay like me.

It's amazing that I managed to get any qualifications in maths because I spent two years of maths classes doing very lettle else but to stare at the bottoms and to wank. John and Keith sat in front of me for two years and their rear views became etched in my mind so that all these years later I can still see the images that so excited my young 14 year old developing body. Keith was fair haired and slender. He was one of the last boys in our year to develop - I can remember another boy pointing out his little cock as we got showered after games, commenting that unlike our now substancial organs, his was still a small appendage. There was nothing undeveloped about his bottom though.

He sat to the right of John and as he worked he leaned forward or to the side. When this happened, and it happened a lot, his blazer rode up his back and there before me was the most famtastic profile. He wore lighter grey trousers and the curves of his bbuttocks filled them out nicely. I must have spent more time looking at his bpttom than anyone elses over the years. Each lesson, once the teacher had started I would become transfixed and my cock would start to enlarge. Using the technique that I had used in English with David, I would trap my blazer button in the desk and then, rather than strip off,  I would just remove my cock and start wanking. Every school day for two years I wanked off in maths. After a while a handkerchief had to come out as well to mop up the newly created cum that began accompanying the orgasms. I was also wanking off once or twice more a day over this two year period.

John was shorter with a roundish head and dark hair that fell in a fringe. He wore darker trousers and his blazer fell lower down so that most of the time his bottom was covered. From time to time his blazer did lift to reveal a thin view showing rounded buttocks and a delicious crack. Occasionally he would lean right the way forward to show his full form. Because seeing John's bottom was quite a rare sight, the view of it was really arousing. His bare bum was just as pretty and I had once got a feel of it in the changing rooms. 

So from 14 to 16 my maths boys provided me with daily orgasms and a regular buttock feast. I was also attracted to lots of other lads at this time, one of whom became my new favourite - another David and his friend Rob.

Towards the end of our third year at secondary school I turned 14. Around this time I began to find other boys exciting and the one I lusted after most was Tony. All of this was unrequited. I'm not sure I knew what being gay was - I did know that ogling at other boys in class and especially their grey trouser clad bottoms, wasn't what other lads did. I kept it to myself. Tony sat next to me in another lesson so I got plenty of opportunity to see the curves of his behind as he worked at his desk. there were no wanking opportunities in this lesson because we were on the front row. Still, for about three months Tony was my hero. However, I was also beginning to notice lots of other boys, both in my year and in the two years below. I started to give them marks out of ten each week for how lovely they were. I can remember the book I did it in.

Eventually my yearning for Tony subsided a little. He had brown slightly frizzy hair and a jolly disposition. However, for classic good looks, it had to be James, another lad in the class who I admired greatly. Later, we would become good friends, although never in anyway sexual. James was tall with beautiful eyes and a cute face. His bottom became my favourite for a while after Tony had faded from grace.

With the start of what was then called year 4, I moved to a new maths class and then the fun really did start.

I can't reme,ber when I started to notice the boy sitting next to me in our English lessons. I would have been 13 at the time, and not particularly interested in the classic book we were reading or the sentence structures we were practising. David was popular. Average size with dark hair and a sweet face with a slightly aquiline nose. The girls were wild about him and after a while, so was I. He was the first boy in our class to claim to have had sex and no-one doubted it. So, I became aware of him sitting next to me each time we went to English, and I started to look forward to the experience. He was totally unaware of the crush I developed, and the strange sexual behaviour that took place next to him most lessons.

We were seated at a double desk by the window, near the back of the classroom. I sat next to the window, meaning I was bordered by desk, wall with wondow, back of chair and D on my left. I discovered that by trapping the button of my blazer into the desk - we had opening lids - I could create a little barrier between D and myself, my blazer hanging like a curtain so I could indulge in my sexual experiences. These were inevitably a wank, which I managed to perfect with minimal movement so as not to attract attention - a little massage of the foreskin over the head and a feeling of great randiness normally brough orgasm, although no cum at this stage, fairly quickly. 

As I started to enjoy his presense more, I began to get more daring, undoing my trousers and slipping them down a bit, and then easing off my white underpants so that I would be sitting with my naked buttocks on the cold wooden chair, my rear view protected by the back of my blazer. This enhanced my wanking sensation, linking it with a sense of danger that has always been a turn on. If the teacher had asked me to stand to read a segment of a book, I'd have been in reak trouble, with a very embarrassing scenario developing and no doubt a visit to the headmaster for a painful caning. But it never happened.

Not only did I enjoy D's looks , but my earlier interes in bottoms returned with a vengengance. I wanted to look at his bum and be close to it and brush against it and lean forward when he was bending over and get as close as possible. I must have seen him naked in the showers although his bare arse doesn't feature in my memoriies. I do remember playing a game with him a year or so later when we were in PE kit where I was daring him to pull my shorts down, which he duly did, leaving me in my Y fronts and not stark naked as I had hoped. My infatuation continued for a number of months until my desires turned to another boy, in another class and Tony had a bigger rounder bottom and lovely light grey trousers that accentuated the curves and crevises.

When I was 10 years old I think I probably fell in love. I had a small group of friends but was quite shy. I know I was wanking regularly and enjoyed being naked although I was none too happy for other boys to see me like this when we showered after games lessons. I can remember being fascinated by another boy going into the showers who had a cut cock. I had never encountered one of these before and was intrigued by the shape and form. My best friend once tried to engage me in conversation about cocks when we were both in the toilets attached to our classroom - the school had been modernised. B commented on the fact that he had a big vein down his cock when it got stiff and did I. I mumbled something incoherent and left the toilets - the first of many opportunities that I have come to regret missing.

The new 7 year old starting included three boys who were great friends and who played together every playtime. Towards the end of that final primary year I began to join in their games and we had a great time. Maybe it was a very strong friendship that I felt - although to them I would have been just this older boy who joined their fun. When weekends came, I would cycle to outside their houses because I missed them so much, on the off chance that they might see me and invite me to play. I also had a great longing inside me, an emmptiness, because they were not there. My parents bought me a new top with a zip up collar and it was just like the one that my favourite young friend wore. I loved wearing this and thinking about him and missing him.

Pretty soon secondary education loomed and I was off to the other side of town to a smallish secondary school where, my first impression, everyone from year 9 onwards were giants. I can rememeber that for the first year we had games along with the boys in the next two year groups, some of whom were like men. We would shower together but I felt no feelings towards anyone, nor was my sexual curiosity aroused. That was all to change. Bus journeys to school began to become slightly embarrasing as I got hard-ons most days and had to cover up the evidence. I became obsessed with other boys getting the cane - I never did - but I tried to recreate the punishments. Time passed and at the age of 13 the hormones started kicking in. Then in my English class I was put next to a boy called David.

As far as I can remember, I have always wanked. I have an uncut cock with quite a tight foreskin that has always had a nice little scrunched up section at the end. The technique I developed as an infant - holding the foreskin over the glanas between thumb and forefinger and moving back and forwards - has stood me in good stead all my life. I know that an orgasm in the school hall at the age of 10 was nothing unusual so I reckon I must have been mastrubating from about age 3. I do remember the sexual enjoyment I got by being naked at this age. Despite being quite shy, when no-one was around at home I would whip round the back of the house where we had a shed. Behind the shed was a store of plantpots and garden canes that my dad used in our largish garden. The canes came in useful in my other sexual obsession - cp. It was the plantpots that I would home in on.

I would choose about 5 plantpots and arrange them one on top of the other. Then I would strip naked. The spot I chose to do this was sheltered from view from the house and the garden was not overlooked. I would stand naked in front of the pile of plantpots and then pee into the top one. I would watch as the yellow stream started to make its way through each pot, through the little round hole, and drip into the next one. Once my bladder was empty I would start wanking furiously, watching the pee on its journey, until I reached orgasm.

I can remember doing this frequently and never once I was an adolescent. Sometimes I would just strip off in the bathroom and wank. I found that if I continued to wank once I'd had my orgasm then I would produce a small amount of wee. This was not great so I rarely did it. I once dug a cock sized hole in the ground with the intention of peeing in it. Lying down naked to fill it with urine was a disappointment, because I couldn't go - shame. So I must have been wanking regularly for many years before puberty and sometimes the wanks accompanied pain to my bottom - more of that next time.

I am not sure at what age I became fascinated with my own bottom. I suppose like most children I occasionally rubbed my bottom, running my forefinger down my anal crack and then smelling it. I found the smell then intoxicating - not so keen on it these days. From this exploration of my own body smells came one of my earliest fantasies. At my junior school there were still outside toilets. In my mind I converted these into a secret area underneath the row of cubicles and trough, where only boys could enter. The secret room was divided in two my a wall into which were set a series of oval shaped holes. On one side of the wall was a passageway along which one could walk. The holes were at head height and were designed to sit in from the other side. This meant that anyone walking along the passageway would be presented with a row of bottoms.

However, these were not any bottoms, they were boys' bottoms and they were naked. In my fantasy I sometimes walked along the passageway or, more often, I was one of the boys with my arse sticking through the hole. I am not sure whether I was turned on by the visual feast of buttocks galore because the purpose of the passageway was to provide me and other boys the opportunity to rub our fingers down the anal crack and smell the sweet smell that I loved so much.

I can only think that I had these fantasies prior to adolescence, because they were set in the familiar junior school setting and they did not contain any of the boys who I later came to lust after during puberty. Therefore I have to conclude that I was fixated by boys' bottoms from about the age of 7. This and the telescope incident are the only things regarding bottoms that I can remember from that time, although I do remember falling in love with three boys at junior school and wanking loads - but they are other stories.

This blog, covering my gay experiences from birth to 21, will be no account of wild uninhibited sexual shenanigans, because that never happened to me. I have had countless fantasies over the years about what could have happened and probably what should have happened, had I been a bit more outgoing and brave and a little less shy. But they didn't happen. I lived a celibate life but one of great sexual enjoyment and that is what I intend to share.

There is a debate about whether people are born gay or have gayness thrust upon them. In my case I definitely have been gay as long as I have felt any sexual feelings. There were two key times during my early years that are imprinted upon my memory. The first is probably just an underlining that I have always wanked. I was 10 years old, quiet and reserved, popular with my small group of friends but not one of the lads. We were on the way to morning assembly, down the corridor from our classroom and into the hall. The journey took us past the headmaster's office, a place of forboding where you really didn't want to have to report with a misdemeanor. The headmaster had a good collection of canes and he used them quite vigorously on the buttocks of naughty boys who were sent to him.

I have a lifelong obsession with corporal punishment, gaining much sexual pleasurethroughout my life from reading about it, viewing it and, more recently, experiencing it for myself. I can clearly remember the conversations when the first boy in our year got 6 of the best, the shock when, at age 8, my friend was placed over the headmaster's knee and spanked thoroughly in front of the class, the outrage when a good friend was wrongly caned at age 9. Whilst these events probably contributed to the fear and fascination I feltabout CP, I cannot remember any sexual connection. That morning, the door to the headmaster's study was open and inside he was in the process of caning a young blond lad from the local children's home. The swish, the thwack, the screams, the crying, the fear. As I took my place in the hall I had an orgasm. Just the smallest rub on my shorts and pleasure flooded my body and I remember thinking - it's not usually that quick. So I must have been well into masturbation by age 10.

The second occasion actually happened two years earlier and is confirmation to me that I had feelings towards other boys rather than girls. A boy in our year brought in a magic telescope. It was blessed with the ability to see through clothes, or so the owner claimed. He loaned it at playtime, to his mates, who spent the time creeping up behind various girls and holding it to their rears before exclaiming that they could see their bare bottoms. I longed to get hold of the fascinating object, even though I knew it was all a load of nonsense. However, the object of my desires, I can remember so clearly, were the trousered bottoms of the other boys in the class.