Chameleons and scallies

By Ben 
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They'd been bugging me for weeks, hanging around on the corner near the local shops, laughing and mocking whenever I passed them. I decided that these nineteen year olds needed to be initiated into a whole new understanding of life.

They're what we call scallies: always dressed in tracksuit bottoms, white sport socks, Rockports or trainers, T-shirt or shirt and baseball cap. They were quite a nice looking bunch of lads too—they'd probably have looked even better if it wasn't for their really short hair cuts. I sometimes wondered if they had a home to go to—they always seemed to be hanging around in the same spot, chatting, drinking, sometimes smoking. They certainly didn't have jobs.

But, aside from bugging me, they had held an attraction to me for some time.

It was no coincidence that I had taken to popping over the shops more often for an odd 'forgotten' thing. Irritating as they no doubt were, their raw attitude held sway over me.

I saw a chance to put my plan into action when walking back from the shop one day and noticing one of the gang, Brian I think he was called, walking towards me on his own. I paused for a second—after all, they always seemed to travel in packs, but a quick glance round showed that no-one else was in sight.

I carried on towards him. He was sauntering towards me, hands in the pockets of his dark blue Adidas trackies, completely uninterested in the world around him. As he drew near, I transferred the shopping bag to my left hand.

He was nearly past me when I raised my hand and moved it towards his neck.

“What're you doin'?” he asked and went to push my hand away, but it was too late, my fingers had brushed across the edge of his chin and he froze.

“Follow me,” I ordered, and he did without question. I took him through the park gates and into a quiet little corner with a bench, where I instructed him to sit. I brushed against his chin again and saw, even through his deadened state, surprise in his eyes to see his face and body standing in front of him.

“Strip.” He removed his clothes down to his underwear ( a tight-fitting pair of white briefs). I was about to tell him to stop, when he pulled these off too, leaving his cock hanging free. I shrugged. What the heck. If I was going to go through with this I might as well dress the part. I stripped my own clothes off quickly, emptied the pockets and then told the lad to put them on, while I pulled on his clothes.

I was amazed at how aroused I was by just pulling on his underwear and then the rest of his garments. I pictured myself as I pulled on the cap, a right scally, with Brian's cute face and body.

He sank back onto the seat and I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He would be out of it for hours, and anyone who did happen to come across him would think he was on drugs, so I knew I would be safe to carry out my plan.

I sauntered out of the park, adopting a cocky walk and made my way up to the shops.

“Where ya been?” yelled the tallest, dark-haired lad. Scott, I think he was called.

I shrugged.

“Took me a bit longer than I planned.”

Scott seemed to accept this answer and offered me a can of cider, which I took a swig from. I felt a thump on the arm and turned to look at John, the other lad in the group.

“I'm gonna ask her tonight. I fuckin' am.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, I am, mate. Nuffin's gonna stop me.”

I nodded. John seemed happy with that.

“Lend us a fiver? I need to get some fags.”

I pulled out Brian's wallet and dug out a fiver. Brian was presumably the one with a bit of spare cash, at least at the moment.

“He's got no chance.”

I glanced at Scott.

“About as much chance as you've got I reckon. Come round here a minute.”

I led him down an alley beside the shops and round the corner. Scott was looking at me suspiciously.

“What's here?”

“Just you.”

I reached out and fondled his cock through his trackies. He pushed me off.

“Oi, Brian, stop acting queer.”

“Come off it, Scott, you haven't had sex in ages. I could give you a bit of relief.”

He looked at me with a puzzled stare, but didn't resist as I lowered his trackies and rubbed his cock through his white boxers. He moaned slightly and I took that as permission to continue. I pulled his boxers down to his knees, sank onto my own and scooped his gorgeous cock into my mouth.

I licked and sucked, enjoying the silky feeling of his skin. Then, to my surprise, as I thought he'd been enjoying it, he pulled his cock out my mouth and pulled me to my feet.

“Good, Bri, but not enough.”

He grabbed me and pushed me with my face against the wall and pulled my trackies and briefs down. Within seconds I could feel the delicious sensation of his cock entering my arse. I'm always as happy to be fucked or sucked as to fuck or suck and I leaned against the wall, enjoying this unexpected state of affairs. Scott's cock pounded away, none too gently, against my arse and then he froze with a growl and I felt his wonderful juices squirting into my arse. He pulled out and turned me round, giving me a quick peck on the lips. My hand was ready and it brushed against his chin.

Like Brian before him, he froze. I brushed again and my form mutated into his own. Quickly I ordered him out of his clothes and put them on myself, for the second time enjoying the joyful and erotic sensation of putting on a scally's underwear and the rest of his clothes.

I told him to wait there ad rushed back down the alley to where John was smoking a cigarette and looking around distractedly.

“Where've ya been, Scott?”

“Just took Brian home. He's got a stomach ache.”

“Too many McDonalds, eh?” I laughed—I had a persona to keep up.

“'S boring here,” I said, “Wanna go somewhere else for a bit?” John looked like he couldn't believe his ears.

“Somewhere else? We always hang out here.”

“How about wandering over to that pub they're demolishing. Might find something worth nickin'.”

His eyes lit up. I'd pushed the right button. We wandered away to the building site and had a good hunt around. After a bit we sat down on a low wall, swigging from cans of cider.

“Well, it was worth a try,” sighed John.

“Yeah,” I replied, “this might be too..” I leaned over and kissed him. He shot up off the wall.

“Oy, you pouf. What do you think you're doing?”

“Hey, John, it's me,Scott. I'm no queer. I just need some action.”

“Not with me!”

“Who else have we got?” I pulled him into another kiss, one hand on the back of his neck, one stroking his arse through the beige material of his trackies. This time he didn't resist. In fact, when I stopped, he pulled back in, his hands moving down to caress my arse. It was just so easy to awaken these feelings in these boys! Finally, we separated.

“I've learnt somethin' I know you'll like,” I whispered, pulling him behind a higher wall and pushing his face against. I sank to my knees and stroked his well-formed arse, kissed it a few times and then pulled his trackies and blue briefs down. I kissed his arse cheeks a few times and then began to explore down his arse crack, testing and tasting with my tongue. He was clean, with a faint masculine aroma. I plunged into teasing his pucker, swirling round and round it before digging in. His groans became louder as I tongue fucked him, until his cock, untended by him, exploded with cum across the wall. I stopped, kissed his pucker goodbye and stood up. He pulled up his briefs and trackies.

“Wow!” he breathed.

My hand reached up and stroked his chin and he froze. I stroked again and felt my features transform into his. Within seconds we had stripped and again swapped clothes. I kissed him one last time and then wandered back to the shops, noticing the looks people gave this apparent scally.

Yeah, I thought, little do you know. I turned and strolled back to my house, wondering what the three boys would think when they finally came to, wearing other people's clothes, and two of them with new gay memories.

The next day I walked over to the shops again and saw them hanging around as usual. They weren't embarrassed. In fact, there seemed to be much more touching and intimacy going on between them. Perhaps I really had done them a favour.

Perhaps I should invite them round to my house for a foursome sometime.


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