Sebastian gay escort

Chapter 1 My name is Sebastian Watson. Nothing special about that, you might think, other than the fact that the name Sebastian is not much used anymore today. Well, it may become clearer if I tell you that my full name is a ponderous Sebastian Aloysius Mortimer Watson. Yes, indeed, I am a 'scion', to use their word, of what is considered in upper class American society, to use again their words, 'an old family'. Old and good families, whatever they are, always lumber their offspring with names that no normal person would ever think of using.

Sebastian is bad enough, but I have some to accept it as I am always addressed as Sebastian and never, ever as Seb; but I ask you, Aloysius Mortimer—where on earth did my late parents ever dig up these prehistoric names? What on earth were they thinking about when they lumbered their only child with them?

But that is precisely what 'old families' do. What the hell is an old family anyway - aren't all families old?

Sebastian - The Male Escort - Part 1 of 6

Well, I will tell you: And so, they are able to tell you that their line dates back to before the war of independence or whenever. In fact Joe Blow has just as long a lineage, but it had never been recorded and so, like most folks he can barely go back much beyond his grandparents and rarely can he tell you the maiden name of either grandmother. That, my friends, is the only difference. American tradition requires everyone to have, if not an actual middle name, at least a middle initial - it always asks for that on those printed forms one gets through the post, so I decided to simplify things and call myself Sebastian David Watson, or Sebastian D.

What on earth would I have done otherwise, lumbered with two middle initials? The standard American form has space for only one letter: You can, you know, use any name you wish as long as you are not intent on committing a crime. In my case, of course, coming from a true blue 'old family' I know that we have been around in Boston since My forbears did not come over on the Mayflower, but we count nevertheless as part of the Boston would be aristocracy.

We Watsons may not qualify to socialize with the Cabots or the Lodges, they are the ones, in case you had forgotten, who converse only with God but we hold - or rather held - our own in Boston society, even though we never had the cash really to live up to it. Well, lumbered as I was with my prehistoric names, I was orphaned at the age of two, when both my parents were killed in a car crash and so I have no recollection of them.

We were a very small family: I was an only child as had been my mother and my father had but one elder sister, Agatha Amelia Dorothea Watson Oh yes, they did not stint on names, even for the girls! I am pretty sure the 'maiden' bit was a correct designation as she had no time for men at all and lived a solitary life, wrapped up in religion and 'good works', whatever they might be. However Aunt Agatha, as I subsequently called her, had that true sense of duty which goes with being from a 'good family' and became my legal guardian from my earliest age.

[ PRICES ]

She was a totally remote woman who really had no time for children and engaged a series of nurses and governesses to look after me, until, at the tender age of eleven, she shipped me off to a boy's boarding school, the Sheldon Academy for Boys, which was located in a small community of the same name in rural up-state New York.

The Sheldon Academy was a private school catering for about boys and attracted boys from those apocryphal good families for two reasons. Firstly, it promised a rigorous old-fashioned education modelled on that practiced in English public schools, and secondly, which was possibly more important in the eyes of many of the people sending their charges there, it offered supervised board and lodgings to the pupils out of term time.

In other words, here was a place where, for a fee, you could enrol your offspring and not have to see them at all any more, unless you wanted to, until they reached the age of eighteen and left the school to pursue either a college education or find a job!


  • popular gay dating apps by country.
  • best gay hookup site.
  • Sebastian, 29, versatile gay escort in Birmingham - Gay Escort Club!
  • Sebastian - The Male Escort, - Part 1 of 6 - Sex Stories!
  • The Internet's Most Desired Gay Male Escorts Tell All!

So, Sheldon was not only a school but it had a side activity as a sort of orphanage, for semi-abandoned children, to which group I numbered. I exaggerate here somewhat, as even the most callous of parents or guardians felt it morally necessary to see their charges a few times during the year, but make no mistake, those of us who spent vacations at the school usually received the odd visit from our parents or guardian, but only very rarely went home.

In my case, I never ever went back to my Aunt Agatha's house I cannot bring myself to call it home until I left Sheldon aged eighteen and had to find a job. So, as you can see, from my entering Sheldon aged eleven and leaving aged eighteen plus, my school days were equivalent to a prison sentence, with no remission! I was one of these 'lucky' lads!

Sebastian, 29 years old, versatile gay escort in Birmingham, United Kingdom.

Aunt Agatha religiously came to see me four times a year it was a sort of sacred duty and took me out to lunch, for which as I discovered, much later in my life, she had paid for entirely out of my inheritance, but from the time I entered the school, aged eleven until the day I left aged eighteen, I never ever went back to Agatha's house! Incredible but true: So, of home life I had absolutely none; I lived in an expensive institution and had to make the best of it.

But it was not all bad, for I had some congenial schoolmates and overall, I was not unhappy: However, when I finally left Sheldon aged eighteen and a half, I had no clear idea what my future life would be. Chapter 2 The Sheldon Academy was run by an expatriate Brit, who himself was a product of the old style English public school system. He had run this establishment on the same lines for over thirty years and saw himself as a sort of God, to put fear into the hearts of his pupils.

He came, apparently, from a very upper, upper English background and rejoiced in the name of Ambrose Archibold Cedric Woodderowffe Pryce. That's a master's degree from the University of Cambridge, England, in case you did not know. Yes you've got it; that was his name, with that ridiculous collection of double letters, which was pronounced, so he drilled into us, Woodruff Priss.

Poppers have been happening in a big way, even in the straight community as of late. What are some of your favs? Are they the norm on a job? When you leave the house you have your keys, wallets, cell phone. When I leave the house I have my lube, my condoms and my poppers. The client provides cock rings and other paraphernalia. The grossest was a lb. I think that covers both grossest and oddest.

Also, his dick was uncut and smelled like cheese. Have there been any knife a bitch moments? We went back to his place and he was doing heroin while I went in the bathroom to douche myself. When I came back he was sitting on the couch doped up. I asked to what degree, and he jumped on me and began to choke me furiously for two minutes.

I kicked my legs and tried to escape. Afterwards he immediately apologised and I ran without even trying to get the other half of the money. Are there any particularly pleasurable experiences you can recall?

Harry & Sebastian Gay Kiss Scene (1080p HD)

What kinds of interactions turn you on? Charlie loved being shafted and had never expressed any desire to have a return match, as it were. And now, years later, although I saw Charlie naked both in the showers and when we were alone together, I cannot, for the life in me, recollect what his cock was like!

All I know is that I was chivvied in a good natured envious, I guess way in the showers by my classmates, because I had, by the time I turned eighteen on January 1 , an absolutely formidable piece of man- meat, which was the envy of everyone who saw it. And so it was that when we left Sheldon, Charlie and I simply said goodbye, as if we were both going home for the vacation and after that I neither saw nor heard from him ever again. It was as if our relationship had been for nothing.

Neither of us had any emotional attachment to the other and we just parted, as friends, but without any lasting memories the one for the other. In retrospect, our liaison had been one of sheer physical necessity and when we parted, I guess we both expected that somehow we would each find an agreeably partner to pick up where we had left off.

Sex Stories, Erotic Stories, Porn Stories, XNXX Stories, Adult Stories, XXX Stories

But, before we leave Sheldon behind forever and allow my memories of my time there to fade, it is worthwhile recounting what happened to that slimy bastard of a sports master, Mr Simmons, easily the most heartily hated master at my time at the school. It was in that Mr Simmons suddenly, as if by magic, disappeared from the school. We the boys learned of his departure at the Monday morning assembly, when Woody Prick , the headmaster among his customary comments, suddenly announced that on the previous Saturday evening, Mr Simmons had been taken violently ill and had had to be carted off to hospital.

What the illness was and to which hospital he had been taken were left unsaid. Well, of course, there was a tremendous buzz of intrigue among us boys as to what had happened to Mr. Simmons, but nothing more was ever said about him. His illness, if illness he had had, clearly prevented him from ever returning to Sheldon, for within a few days, a temporary PE teacher was in place and within a month the post was filled by a full time new face, Mr. Chadwick, who turned out to be a very popular staff member, both with the boys and his colleagues, alike. I am jumping ahead of myself here, as it is worthwhile recounting what actually happened regarding Mr.

Chapter 5 It was several years later and at the time I was already well established as a Male escort in New York. One of my regular clients worked at a high level in a well-known firm of publishers. I had just finished servicing his needs late one afternoon, when out of the blue, he invited me to a cocktail party which was being given that evening in honour of one of their new authors, for whom they had just published an anthology of his poems.

Sebastian Finds Himself - Gay Male - mailing.zunfeld.com

I was not really sure why he should give me this invitation, but having nothing better to do that evening, I accepted, and so, together we walked to the nearby hotel, where the party was being held. Well, you can imagine my surprise, when I discovered that the new author in whose honour the party was being given was none other than Mr Crowther, my old teacher of English literature at Sheldon. He was as surprised as I was to meet me there and I simply told him that I was an acquaintance of one of the senior staff at the firm and that he had invited me to join him, quite unexpectedly.

Mr Crowther had no idea what I did for a living and I avoided touching on the subject. The upshot was that he asked me to stay on at the end of the party and have dinner with him, which I willingly did. And, over the meal, among other things we discussed about Sheldon, here out of the blue, I finally learned the facts leading up to the demise of Mr Simmons, which I will allow Mr. Crowther to tell us in his own words. Simmons came into the classroom, as a result of which Mr.

Simmons had placed him on the Punishment Parade list, with the result I was now looking at. I was amazed that such a minor offence, if one could even call it an offence at all, had given rise to such a severe beating. So, my suspicions became aroused and I took to visiting the dorms on Friday evenings after the headmaster had carried out his weekly beating exercise and I rapidly became appalled at the brutality with which the cane had been used on the naked buttocks of the boys.

More often than not boys were being punished for piffling misdemeanours, which in no way merited the severe beatings being inflicted on them. Simmons always had in his hand in the gym. His buttocks were an angry red and I learned that this was a regular occurrence during gym classes. Mr Simmons lashed out at any boy whom he thought was slacking, so that after every class there were always a few boys with sore posteriors.