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Epiphany 

Simon awoke from a deep sleep to the familiar fuss of excited whispers. His eyes shot open, momentarily terrified that he was the focus of attention from the other members of Yew House. The Sixth Form dormitory suite had not proved to be safe, save maybe for Cheeseman, who was the tallest, strongest, and cruelest amongst them. 

He exhaled softly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. No, he wasn’t the target now. 

Actually, he wasn’t sure if “target” was the correct word, not with the way that Cheeseman was standing back, arms folded, a look of consternation on his face. Was it appreciation? Simon was unfamiliar with how to interpret his classmate’s open-mouthed stare. 

His eyes followed Cheeseman’s gaze, and was brought to Barrow and Skinner, both kneeling at the side of Edwin Payne’s bed. 

“Woah…” Simon couldn’t help but murmur, for the first time seeing what the others saw.

Edwin.

Wow.

This was rather unexpected.

Unprecedented , even. 

The boys had been prepping for a nice, unwholesome game of toe-fitty. Skinner had the string hanging loosely in his hand to prove it. So, they’d been intending on startling Edwin from his bed by yanking him by his toe, but when they moved Edwin’s sheets back to get their plan in place, they’d been met by the sight of, well…

The sight of Edwin caught up in what must have been a dream. He was supporting a tent in his nightclothes so tall that Simon wondered if he wasn’t still asleep himself. And oh, if the way the cotton fabric darkened into a round pool around the top of the tent was any indication, it was a very nice dream. 

It was then, perhaps finally coming around to the multiple sets of eyes examining him, or perhaps having reached a particularly stimulating place in his slumber, that Edwin awoke with a soft groan. Simon could hardly believe his eyes, but he swore he saw a distinct twitch . 

That was, oh… oh! He twitched back in solidarity, which was not at all surprising or upsetting. He had to stop from getting a literal grip on himself. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

Edwin, gaining consciousness, gasped a loud, horrified gasp and sprung up from bed, knocking Barrow and Skinner out of the way. He grabbed for his trousers, scrambling into them as he fled the room entirely, leaving the crowd of boys stunned.

“Never would have guessed,” Cheeseman murmured, shaking his head slowly. 

***

Escalation

In the next few days, Simon was consumed, wrecked even, with the memory of Edwin’s erection. 

Was it an optical illusion? A trick of the eye due to light and shadow? Or was his prick really that massive? How did they compare, side to side? What was the girth like? Was there a curve? A vein? Was it as pink and pretty as Edwin’s lips? 

And what had Edwin been dreaming about to get himself so big, anyway? 

He doodled a litany of cocks all around the margins of his workbooks, imagining exactly what Edwin’s might have really looked like, But it wasn’t enough. 

Simon had to know. Had to see it with his own two eyes.

So he began to scheme.

And if he was half-hard under his desk plotting it all out, well, that was no one’s business but his.

It wasn’t like he fancied Edwin Payne. He just, well, he was just curious, right?

His cock knocked against his thigh in defiance. 

“Oh, do shut up,” Simon warned it. 

***

Attempt No.1: Bathtime

While there were many activities that were conducted as a group at St. Hillarions. The boys all studied together, ate together, exercised together, and prayed together. But one thing that they decidedly did not do together was bathe. Bathing was a private affair. 

However, it was also a distinctly naked affair. 

So Simon figured he’d have a great chance at getting a peek at Edwin as God made him. 

That’s how he found himself hiding in the linen cupboard, hoping and waiting. 

It’d been a long evening. He thought he’d been privy to some ugly lads before, but Cheeseman, Skinner, Barrows, and even the old House Master had all come and gone for the evening, leaving a bad taste in Simon’s mouth. Lopsided, bulbous, shriveled. At least, he reassured himself, he didn’t enjoy seeing all those pricks.

He’d almost given up hope when the door to the bathroom creaked open and, peeking out from the sliver he had cracked the cabinet, Simon watched Edwin enter the washroom. 

Yes, he thought, yes, yes, finally. C’mon, now, trousers off, and let’s have a peek! 

And just as Edwin had shed his outer layers and stripped down to his combination suit, disaster struck.

Simon had been so preoccupied, mouth-watering, and his heart beginning to pound in his ears that he had not noticed the large, hairy spider that had crawled from the depths of the cabinet and made its way upon his shoulder. Not until the blasted thing had dropped down his arm and tickled his wrist.

“Ah! Ahh!” Simon panicked, screaming and flinging the cupboard door open, exiting in a panic before the realization hit him that his cover had been, most unfortunately, blown.

Simon didn’t even catch the spider, as it jumped from his body and scurried away as though it had never even been there. 

“Simon?!” Edwin exclaimed, hugging into himself modestly. 

Simon sheepishly grinned, anger with the spider turning to anxiety and guilt. “Hullo, Payne. Was just, uh, looking for something I lost earlier.”

“In the cupboard?!”

Simon’s grin faded into a scowl. “Just what are you accusing me of, Payne?” 

“W-well, nothing, but…” Edwin’s hands went up defensively, and Simon’s eyes were immediately drawn to inspect the state of Edwin’s groin. Before he got a good look, Edwin seemed to understand, and moved one hand back down to shield himself. 

There was nothing more for Simon to do but abort his mission. 

So Simon plucked a clean towel from the cupboard and shook his head, “Ah, here it is! Now get out of my way, Payne before I tell everyone you tried to trap me here against my will.”

***

Attempt No.2: On the Pitch

Simon had hardly managed to catch a wink of sleep, so focused (frustrated?) was he with the mishap in the bath. Now, he worried; not only was Edwin perhaps uncomfortable around him, but he was likely suspicious as well.

They weren’t friends, not even friendly. Until now, Simon had seen him as easy pickings. Edwin was an odd sort, always with his nose in a book and never really able to keep up with any of the other fellows’ banter. 

And notoriously clumsy in sports.

Maybe, mused Simon, Edwin’s gigantic prick disrupted his balance or something?

Hmm…

Through breakfast that morning, Simon tried to regain his wits and concentrate on his backup plan: the physical education curriculum. He bit into his toast with vigor, not realizing that he’d bitten it into the shape of a cock and balls until he’d finished drafting up phase two of his plan. He gobbled the rest up before Cheeseman and company noticed.

Operation Tackle-Edwin-Payne-and-Get-a-Good-Handfull would be underway as soon as possible.

He shoved aside his empty plate and stood from the table, only to hear a loud clap of thunder and the downpouring of rain outside.

Well. Perhaps not.

It ended up raining for three days straight.

***

Attempt No.3: The Boys Toilets

After back-to-back fumbles, Simon knew that he had no choice but to double down. He needed to get a good look at Edwin’s cock. He had to. 

He just couldn’t go on like this, not knowing.

Simon made his way into the boys’ toilets. There were three stalls in their suites at Yew House, each with its own door with a lock to close for privacy. The toilets were really one of the only true places to escape the chaos of the dormitory, really. Which made Simon, screwdriver in hand, pause just for a moment before going in to enact his plan.

Carefully, he broke each lock.

That would ensure him access, at least. 

Then, escaping the bathrooms without anyone having seen him, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Bullocks! Did that huge dick have camel-like properties? Why didn’t Edwin have to piss or shit all day?

Simon watched him all evening until just before bed (was this a pattern with Edwin Payne? Was he just trying to wait until everyone else was gone and away?) Edwin finally made a quick dash for the toilets. 

Cheeseman, Barrow, and Skinner were all yawping it up on the other side of the room, passing around photos of ladies with their naughty bits out, which normally Simon would have been trying to get a look at, but no tits in the world were as intriguing– or potentially as accessible– as the monstrous beast nestled in Edwin’s underclothes. 

Simon slipped into the toilets just behind Edwin, waiting a good thirty seconds to ensure that Edwin would have already made it inside the stall.

He bravely soldiered forward, just like his brothers must be doing over in France, he thought. This was Simon’s civic duty. Such a massive hog could not go unwitnessed by the good people of England. This was war-medal-level commitment. 

Just as Simon reached the stall and opened the door, Edwin’s panicked voice sounded from the other slide.

“Occupied!”

But Simon paid no heed, opening the door only to find…

The pretty white orbs of Edwin Payne’s ass as he stood taking a piss. 

“Oh… oops, sorry,” Simon murmured.

Not that it wasn’t a nice ass (it was– shapely yet lean), but that wasn’t what Simon had been anticipating. He hadn’t imagined that Edwin Payne was a stand-up sort of chap.

Simon’s own cock chided him with a proverbial sad-trombone, and Simon backed out of the stall and closed the door again.

Why did fate seem intent on disallowing the only thing he desired out of life!?

***

Interlude

For the umpteenth evening in a row, Simon could not sleep.

Edwin’s cock was front and center on his mind– not that, since that fateful morning, it had ever been far out of his thoughts. 

But now, while everyone else slept, there was nothing else to distract him. Edwin was just a couple headsteads away. Figuring out how to see, and hell, how to get his hands on Edwin was consuming his every breath.

Simon’s body was burning up, cheeks flushed.

He bit his fist, not daring to make a sound and be found out, while his other hand snaked down under his sheets. 

Though it wasn’t as though onanism wasn’t a nightly occurrence in the dormitories, Simon didn’t dare to draw attention to himself. If people got wind of him and wanted to tattle, the headmaster would definitely be angry. After he’d recently had his workbook confiscated and the headmaster noticed the copious phalluses drawn around the margins of his pages, he was already on thin ice.

Yet…

His eyes rolled back in his head as he took himself in hand and squeezed. He was already fully hard, had been all night, and there was no resisting the urges anymore. 

Edwin

Simon rolled his hips, humping through the cup of his hand. He thumbed the wet that had collected at the head of his cock, spreading it along his modest length as he thrust again. 

Edwin!

What would they do, could they do together? Slot up against each other and go? That thought excited him. Rub themselves off as Simon held them both together in his grip? Or maybe both of their hands were there, holding onto each other as they went? 

Or Edwin around his lips? He might choke on it, lose himself on the taste of it as Edwin fucked his mouth. 

What if… Simon’s breath hitched though he managed to hold back from moaning, Edwin fucked between his thighs, drilling down on him, overwhelming him?

Edwin! Edwin!

Simon didn’t last long.

Even after he came, though, he wasn’t satisfied. 

***

Attempt No.4: His Brother’s Book

Skinner sneered, “Demon sacrifice?”

“Give the prat a proper scare!” Simon enthused. 

He’d failed every other way. Surely this time, snagging Edwin out of bed in his night clothes, getting him so frightened he got hard. Wasn’t that how arousal worked? 

It was fool-proof. 

“Yeah, alright, show that little Mary-Ann where he stands,” Cheeseman agreed.

Fake demon sacrifice from Simon’s dumb older brother’s dusty old book?

It was going to be perfect.