Sexual awakening — the Adventures of H
My name is Henry David Cabot and I consider myself to be the luckiest man alive. I was born in Bristol in the early 1960s into an upper middle class family. My father was an accountant, my mother had originally been a teacher but had stayed at home to bring up my younger sister Elizabeth and me. I’m told that there is a distant family link to the, now disgraced, explorer John Cabot but that’s not important to my story.
I was 14 when I discovered just how lucky I was. Like almost every 14 year old my hormones were raging, my body was becoming firmer, my puppy fat was turning to muscle, hair was erupting from my armpits, my groin and my limbs. I’d even had to start shaving every couple of days. I should add here that masturbation was a regular occurrence, maybe twice or three times a day. My body was turning into a grown man but my brain and emotional development were still that of a child. However, that summer would change everything.
Student exchange programmes were very popular, towns and cities were always “twinning”, and my school prided itself on arranging bigger and better exchanges than normal, where possible they lasted almost the whole 6 week summer break. The plan was that you would start the academic year off by writing to your appointed French “pen pal" partner family and over the year you would learn more about them so that when the summer exchange happened you were already primed for what life might be like.
I was fortunate to be paired with a family who lived near Bordeaux, the Devereuxs. Mr Devereux was an architect, Mme Devereux was an artist and they had two children, Marc and Thea, Thea was already away at university and Marc was my pen pal. They lived in a small chateau which they had renovated over the years. It looked fantastic, I felt extremely lucky to be spending a summer in the grounds. As this would be my first trip abroad, I was pretty excited, as you can imagine, but I wasn’t scared, no I saw it as an upcoming adventure. The multitude of letters and latterly the few phone calls we’d exchanged had banished any nerves I might have had so come the day to leave I was totally up for it. My parents left me at the airport, that Saturday morning armed with gifts for the Devereux family and plenty of strong words about behaving myself and setting a good example for the school, and them!
Just over an hour after takeoff the plane glided into land at Bordeaux airport. It wasn’t particularly busy and I was able to collect my bags and wander out into the terminal. The difference in temperature from Bristol was quite a shock. I’d left home under grey threatening skies but here it was wall to wall azure, with just the hint of a gentle breeze to ruffle the flags. I was met by Marc and his family, he was excitedly waving a large homemade sign which read “Bienvenue Henry Cabot”. Mr Devereux shook my hand warmly in both of his and took my bags, Mme Devereux embraced me warmly and gave me a traditional kiss on both cheeks. I noticed that she ran her fingers over her lips after she’d kissed me, but I thought nothing of it.
The drive to their chateau took less than an hour and I admit it, I gasped as I got my first sight of the magnificent towers as we drove slowly down the tree lined drive and pulled to a halt on the gravel that seemed to match the colour of the stones used to build the chateau perfectly. I couldn’t wait to explore. Marc helped me take my bags to my room, yes I had my own room in one of the towers, his was on the floor below mine! My room overlooked the front of the building and gave me a fantastic view of the grounds. I could see for miles across swathes of greenery, but what caught my eye was a large swimming pool away to my right. I was looking forward to jumping into that!
After unpacking with Marc excitedly jumping around me like a puppy, mixing his French and English hilariously, we were called downstairs.
“Mammon wants us to have afternoon tea”, Marc grinned like a Cheshire cat, “she thinks that all English people do”.
“Ok, no problem”, I laughed, “as long as there is some cake as well!”
There was! Mme Devereux had laid on a fantastic spread, a mix of sandwiches and three different types of cake, all delicious — I tried them all, well I wanted to set a good example didn’t I? After we’d cleared the things away Marc took me on a tour of the house and grounds. He showed me the secret passages in the chateau that lead from one bedroom to another, apparently quite a common thing in the “old days” when people wanted to disguise their behaviour!! Marc led the way out of the chateau and showed me the gardens, there was even a lake behind the chateau with swans on it. The whole area was wooded which made it feel private and secluded, the only noises you could hear were from the wildlife, we must have been out and about for at least an hour, there was just so much to see.
The last stop on our tour was the swimming pool and it was even better close up. Hidden from the rest of the grounds by high hedges and only visible from the windows high in the tower in which my bedroom was located it had a diving board at one end and several loungers scattered around the edge. As we bounded round the hedges and onto the poolside I saw that Mme Devereux was leisurely swimming away from us, her body gliding through the water with, what appeared, little effort. She reached the end of the pool and turned back. Seeing us she waved briefly and then continued her length. She came to a stop right beneath us. She stood up and put her hands up to her head pushing her long auburn hair back from her face and making her chest rise up towards me. I couldn’t help it but I could see right down her cleavage, her full breasts were barely contained by her tight fitting swimsuit. I felt myself blushing. Marc was oblivious.
“Why don’t you boys come for a swim? The water’s lovely.” Her voice was breathy and husky.
Marc raced off ahead of me to get changed. “Meet you back here”, he called over his shoulder. I jogged after him, my blush fading but my stiff willy definitely not going away. As soon as I got to my room I rushed into the bathroom and dropped my trousers, it was sticking right up and twitching at me. I had to sort it right away. I began to wank it in long firm strokes, then faster and faster as I imagined what those breasts might look like freed from their cage. I could feel the pressure in my balls building and before I knew it I’d shot my load into the toilet. That felt better, hey my first wank in France. I cleaned myself up and had a piss and then hunted out my swimming shorts. I’d brought a couple of pairs and I figured I’d choose the looser fitting ones, I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, especially if Mme Devereux could see the effect she was having on me!
Marc was already in the pool by the time I got there, he was playing catch with his mother. “What kept you?”, she said, “We’ve started the games without you”.
“Sorry, I couldn’t find my costume. My mother had packed them along with my pants”. I felt my cheeks burning so dropped my towel on one of the loungers and jumped into the pool, fast, to cool down!
“I’m going to have a rest and read my book, you boys can play with yourselves.” She laughed at what she’d said and swam to the side of the pool. I watched as she pulled herself out and onto the side in a single fluid movement. Jesus she had a fantastic body. She bent over her lounger as she smoothed her towel out, the firm round cheeks of her ass presented directly to me, there was no way I was getting out the water anytime soon!
Marc and I splashed around, lay on lilos and had a great time. Mme Devereux was still laying on her lounger, the heat of the day was still strong, I had shot her a few sly glances and I was pretty sure that she’d seen me doing it. Finally Marc had had enough and we climbed out of the pool to dry off. Mme Devereux raised herself on one elbow and looked across at us. She didn’t say anything but I could feel her eyes burning into me behind her large sunglasses. But that was all. She soon left us saying that she had to start preparing dinner. Marc and I lay in the afternoon heat and listened to some music. I don’t remember what it was, my mind wasn’t focusing on that.
At dinner Mr Devereux announced that he had to go away for business. One of his clients’ building projects was at a crucial stage and he needed to be there to keep the client calm and to ensure that everything went smoothly and stayed on plan. What I didn’t know then was that Marc had to go into school on Monday morning, there were some school tests he had yet to complete — which meant that I would have to manage on my own, well Mme Devereux would be there of course.
I remembered that I had brought them presents from home, so I made my excuses and dashed upstairs to retrieve them. My parents had bought a book on the life of Isumbard Kingdom Brunel for Mr Devereux. Brunel was a famous engineer who had built ships, bridges, railways, many many things. Mr Devereux seemed delighted. My mother had made a selection of jams for Mme Devereux which she said would be on the table for breakfast. I had got hold of a Bristol City football shirt for Marc and he ripped his own shirt off at the dinner table and put it on. Thankfully it fitted great, actually there was still a bit of room for him to grow into!
After that excitement Saturday evening was uneventful, Marc and I played computer games till late and his parents retired to their salon, quite early. When I finally hit the hay I was pretty tired, but not too tired for a nice slow wank. I lay back on my bed and my hand found my rapidly hardening willy. I closed my eyes and the sight of Mme Devereux emerging from the swimming pool, water dripping from her hair, her costume tight to her body, revealing every curve. Her nipples were hard and bursting to get through the material restraining them. She moved in slow motion, she stood right in front of me, her fingers brushed across her lips. What did that mean? She looked at me and that was enough, my willy exploded, it was hard to keep quiet, it felt so wonderful. My come juices kept flowing, each time my willy jerked another spurt landed on my tummy and my chest. That was a good one!
I scooted off to my bathroom and cleaned myself up. I flushed the evidence down the loo and hopped into bed. I was asleep in an instant and slept like a log. I’m lucky like that I can sleep anywhere.
I was woken on Sunday morning by the sound of Mr Devereux shouting up the stairs to me. “Attention, Henry, c’est le temp pour le petit dejeuner”, although he pronounced it ‘En-ri”, “we’re off to the market so it’s time for breakfast.” No time for my early morning wank then. I dashed into the bathroom and had a quick wash, well my pits and my bits that is, brushed my teeth and hair, and put on a t-shirt, clean pants and my denim shorts then ran down the stairs to breakfast.
Breakfast was brilliant, croissants, pain au chocolat, eggs, bacon, sweet orange juice and tea or coffee. I wasn’t really a tea of coffee drinker, maybe a weak tea but I’d always found coffee to be harsh, bitter even, definitely not to my tastes but when I tried the coffee here it was totally different, rich, yet smooth, I loved it!
I also loved the market. It was in the next village but it seemed like people had come from all over the place. There were hundreds of stalls and people hustling and bustling everywhere. I was a bit overwhelmed what with all the noise, especially as I was finding it hard to understand enough of what was being said and shouted all around me. I felt a hand on my arm, it was Mme Devereux, she guided me through the madness until the place opened up. I liked her touch and was a bit lost when she let me go.
As we were wandering around the stalls Marc told me about having to go into school the following morning. “It’s only for the morning though. I’ll be back by 2 and we have some fun then. I’m sure Mammon will keep you company until then.”
Mr and Mme Devereux had bought lots of produce at the market and when we got back to the chateau they shoo’d Marc and I out of the way so they could make Sunday lunch. We decided another swim was in order and soon we were splashing around in the warm water. As we messed around we chatted about lots of things, football, music and yes girls. I found it interesting that Marc was thinking about girls and sex but was completely ignorant of the effect his other was having on, well me! We discussed what our perfect woman would be like, I made sure that I didn’t describe Mme Devereux — that would have been a bit tricky! We continued the conversation when we got out `of the pool, the burning hot sun quickly drying us off. While we were laying on our loungers I was aware of the differences in our bodies. Marc was thinner and far less muscled than me, his body was less hairy, he looked younger. I was wearing my speedos that day and I could clearly see that my willy was a lot bigger than his was! (But then I’ve been told I’m a show-er not a grow-er, so that might have made a difference). Just then Mme Devereux appeared. She said it was time for lunch so we’d better get changed sharpish. She watched us as we jogged past her, I definitely saw her fingers trace her lips as I went past and I felt her gaze on me as I padded towards the chateau.
Lunch was a real blow out. We ate our way through a massive duck, with lots of vegetables and several different types of potatoes followed by apple pie and custard. Marc and I were even allowed a small glass of wine, just the one though! It felt very grown up. We were all stuffed and as was the local custom everyone went to their rooms to chill out for a bit, maybe to have a sleep or just sit and read and let your food go down. I thought this was a great idea, after all I’d missed my early morning wank and my balls were beginning to ache!
I stripped off and lay on my bed, I’d opened the windows and the sound of the breeze and the birdsong was so wonderfully relaxing. But not for my willy! It was sticking up begging to be wanked. I massaged my balls until they became almost too sensitive to touch so I redirected my efforts to the shaft of my willy. It felt hot to my touch, hot and hard. I’d never been touched there by anyone else, I was desperate to find out what it was like. I grabbed a pillow and wrapped it around my willy and began to use my hips rather than my hands. I rolled over trapping the pillow under me and tight to my rock hard willy. I rocked my hips forward and back, that felt good, really good. In fact I only just managed to stop myself coming on the pillow. At the last moment I rolled onto my back and whipped the pillow away as my willy throbbed and twitched and sent streams of my come juices into the air, there was lots of it, I was very impressed and satisfied.
I lay there panting just listening to the sounds of the countryside drifting in the window. Then I heard a woman’s voice, calling urgently “Yes, yes, give it to me, deeper, oh yes, god yes”. I leapt to my feet, ignoring the streaks of come on me and stood close to the window.
I couldn’t see anyone but I could now hear a man as well. “You want to fuck him, don’t you? I can tell. You want that fat young cock inside you, don’t you, you horny bitch.”
I felt my willy growing hard again, I started to wank the shaft, it was still sticky from my last wank.
“Yes I do, you know I do, but right now I want you to make me come, Fuck me harder, give me your juice, all of it. Come inside me — now!”
My hand wanked faster and faster, I tried to match the rhythm of their voices I could hear through my window.
The man then began to grunt faster and faster. The woman’s moans also got louder. Then they both cried out in unison and then everything went quiet. Wow! I was pretty damn sure that was Mr and Mme Devereux and it seemed that the soundh ad been coming from an open window along to the left from my room but definitely on the same floor. I came almost immediately, spouts of come erupting from my willy and splashing onto the wooden floor. My legs were shaking, wow that was really amazing!
I listened for a bit to see if there was any more activity and hearing none I sauntered into the bathroom to clean myself, and the floor by the window, up. I went back and lay on the bed and not long after I fell deep asleep. I had some amazing dreams, in one of them I’m pretty sure Mme Devereux came into my room to check up on me — was it a dream or did it really happen?
It transpired that Mr Devereux would drop Marc off at school en route to his client. Apparently the client was in Nice and he might be away for the entire week. Marc would get the local bus back from school and get home around 2pm. I was very tempted to tell Marc what I’d heard that afternoon but something held me back, it felt private, well private for them and me, Marc wasn’t involved was he?
Sunday dinner was a light affair, not surprising after that lunch! Bread, meat and cheese and all very yummy and yes we were allowed another glass of wine, red wine this time. Mme Devereux said it was a Beaujolais, very light and not too alcoholic. It tasted ok, nothing special, just ok. We all curled up on chairs around the open fire and watched some French crime series on TV, it was tricky as I didn’t understand too much of the dialogue but Marc kept up a running commentary which helped a lot. As things start early in France on weekdays we all headed off to bed at just after 10pm. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine or the double wank that afternoon but I had no trouble falling asleep. In fact I slept so deeply I completely missed Marc and Mr Devereux leaving.
Follow this storyline to find out what happens on Monday morning in chapter 2 of The Adventures of H — the boy becomes a man.
