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About a year later I was at school away from home at Lincoln. I did not have a particularly enjoyable time; I was academically good compared to most, and other boys picked on me because of this. I was still being attracted to other boys, but because in those days it was still very taboo, I desperately tried to 'do the proper thing' and put such thoughts out of my mind. Indeed it was only the lucky few who had not been heavily indoctrinated by their parents, the media and their mates, against going with guys, since they were born. The word gay had not yet entered the homosexual world. I remember one particularly stocky boy, whose body I lusted after. He was an absolute shit, and I had to keep clear of him to avoid being beaten up. But I had heard that he had forcibly tried it on with another boy, which stoked my fantasy. Why couldn't it have been me?
But, in one way, I did get one over on him! He had this pair of nylon swimming trunks, bright, bright red in colour, which I really wanted. A couple of times I 'borrowed' them and put them on, giving myself an instant hard-on, and then I spunked in them with very little further effort. I remember rubbing the hot spunk against my face and thinking how nice it smelt. I had to hide myself in the toilet in the library, where no-one ever went; that was the only place I felt safe doing this. I wonder if he ever knew what went on with those trunks. I'm digressing; but it's interesting that I was getting my kicks out of balloons, before I ever got off with another guy.
One afternoon, after school, I went into the town, having decided to buy a balloon. I was really nervous about this, knowing what it meant to me. I had thought about it for quite a while, and went out with only a sixpenny piece. This would by me a balloon, but wouldn't get much else, so I would have little reason to falter at the final moment. I had made such a big thing of it in my mind; it sounds way over the top now, but here was me, in my mid teens, going out to buy a sex toy, where I thought I was the only one who had a fetish for that sex toy!! I had bought balloons as a kid, but now I was buying one for sex.
So I walked down the high street, and went into Woolworths. I found my way to the toy counter, being determined not to go back now. My nervousness had been put aside. I picked up one red balloon from the rack. They were round balloons, I guess about 8 inchers. I guess I must have had this thing for the colour red; I still do, but not in the hankie code!! (if you want to know what colours I am into these days, you'll have to ask me!!). I handed over my sixpenny piece (a tanner, to those who remember the name) to the woman behind the counter. I don't think I blushed at all, I was so certain in what I was doing, that any doubts had gone out of my mind. She put it in a small brown paper bag (one balloon, on its own in a small brown paper bag), which I put in my pocket; and I collected my tuppence change.
I went back to the boarding school, thinking that I'd done something really important. In fact I had. I then started to think about where and when I would get to play with it. The practicalities were now looming in front of me. It wasn't going to be that day, because it was now time for evening meal, and then it would be homework until bedtime. But although I had it in my pocket, still in its paper bag, I did secretly get it out of its bag, and gaze at it longingly every now and then, feeling very excited. I was certain, that somehow, sometime I would blow it up and rub it against my cock and balls. Even the thought kept giving me a hard-on; it didn't half make doing homework interesting!
The next day, after school,I grabbed a couple of exercise books, and headed for the library; making out that I was going to do some extra reading. People probably believed me, as they had me down as a swot. Hey, but no, I wasn't this time. I went into the toilet cubicle at the library, and sat down on the toilet. I managed to fish out the paper bag containing the red balloon from my trouser pocket, and got it out of the bag. In an instant I was hard. I struggled to undo my trousers, and pulled them and my underpants down. I put the balloon to my lips and started to blow it up. My cock was absolutely rock hard. I blew it up as hard as I dared (I didn't want it to burst, as it would make such a noise, and I'd get found out; besides I was scared of them bursting).
Holding the hard balloon by the neck I hit it against the side of my erect cock. The effect was magical. I was in absolute heaven. The balloon was my ultimate sex plaything. At that instant, it didn't matter to me that I had a really weird fetish. I just had me and my balloon and was playing with it. That was all I needed. And wasn't it fun. I hit it against my cock over and over again. I rejoiced in the appearance and the sound it made when it hit me. I wondered how hard I could hit before it burst. And then I found out that, actaully, it became too hard for my cock before the balloon suffered at all.
Then I had the idea of squashing it between my crotch and the wall. I do remember that it wasn't very easy in that small toilet cubicle, but I managed to get it between my crotch and the door, and pushed my hips against it. The feeling of the tight surface of the balloon pushing back against my cock and balls and legs was great. Watching it get squashed out of shape was exciting. Pushing against it, and feeling it push back. (Yeah, I still like that). And then I noticed that there was a very particular smell coming off this balloon. Although I'd smelt rubber before, such as in a tyre repair shop, this was now the smell of sex. This was what sex smelt like! And this was what sex felt like. (I had still not had any form of sexual contact with another person. I knew I did not fancy sex with women - the idea didn't do anything for me, and I had been convinced that sex with men was evil).
Still holding it by the neck,I held it in front of my face and looked at it. Gazed at it. Held it against my face. By now my cock was raging, desperately wanting to cum. So, here was I, standing up, with my face pushing the balloon against the door of a toilet (one hand still holding the neck), my cock as hard as it had ever been, and my other hand grabbed hold of my erect cock. I did not know whether to concentrate on my face against the balloon, or the feeling in my cock as I was wanking off. I didn't need to wonder about this for much longer; It only took a few strokes of my hand, and I spunked all over my hand and the toilet door.
I had never felt ashamed about cumming, and didn't worry about where the spunk went. I was quite happy to wipe my hand on my undies, and put my willy away, without having to obliterate every speck of cum. So, I had had sex with a balloon. It must have been sex, because I got a hard-on and I had cum. But I still thought I was the only one. I can't remember exactly what happened to that balloon; I know I put it back in its bag, and I'm sure I played with it again, but I haven't got any memories of it.
If you are enjoying this personal history, let me know!
On to History Chapter 4. Back to Ferdie's home page.
