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A man sexually dominates his ex.
"Honestly, I said, I don't know why you've been sent here. I know Matron has seen this magazine, or something like it, a hundred times. It's not un-natural, after all, to want to take a peek if ladies are offering to show you their bits for a couple of quid, now is it?
"He took a breath and straightened himself up and I gave his shoulder a pat. He was quite a nicely built young lad - one of the rugby players, I remembered.
"Look, I said, I daresay there's a school rule against having this sort of thing on the premises and I know I'm supposed to warn you that masturbation weakens body and soul, so consider yourself lectured. But it'd be worse for you to lie awake all night worrying that you're some kind of pervert, when you're just a normal teenage boy. So just sit down for a minute and I'll make us a cup of tea and we'll have a talk and that'll be the end of it, eh?
"He relaxed a bit and smiled and I made the tea.
"So tell me, what's it like for a man, I asked. I know when I was your age I was aching down there all the time. Couldn't keep my hands off myself.
"His eyes bulged. He said he didn't know women did it. Innocent days, eh. Oh aye, I said. We drank a bit of tea while he digested that one.
"What I'm saying, I said - You don't have to be ashamed of it. Just be a bit discreet.
"He shrugged. He said there was no privacy. In that place, everything was designed against it. The dormitories were shared. Even the toilets only had half-doors, so masters and prefects could check the position of your feet and peer over the top if they wanted to. Sounds really pervy now, doesn't it?
"I said if he was desperate, he could always come in here and do it. And he said: What, in front of you?
"Now that wasn't what I'd meant. I meant he could use the wash room. But when he said it, a little thrill went through me and I found myself saying Why not? I'm a nurse, after all. I'd be interested to see how you do it. Good for my professional education and all that.
"I pushed the magazine towards him. Show me what gets you going, I said. And I locked the door.
"When he picked up his magazine, it more or less fell open at a picture of a council-house blonde with brown eyes and, I noticed, brown roots. She was pretty though, with small tits and bee-sting nipples. She was pulling down her pants and looking into the camera with her lips parted and she had something in her eyes which would stir anybody. I got up and moved around my patient, to look over his shoulder. I picked up a clean towel on the way and I laid that on the desk in front of him. Stand up, I whispered, and he did, and I reached around in front of him and undid his belt and pushed down his kecks. His cock sprang out in front of him, huge against his skinny stomach. He had a young man's bush of newly-grown brown hair, around the base of it, but otherwise he was white and hairless and kind of virginal looking. Go on, I said. Show me what you do. And he made a hole with his fist and gave himself the first couple of strokes. I reached around and took hold of his prick, which looked even bigger in my small hands. I had a silver ring on the middle finger of my left hand, with a small blue stone, which I never knew the nameof, and I remember thinking it added a touch of class to the picture. I stroked down on his balls with one hand and worked the skin over his shiny knob with the other.
"It wasn't the first time I'd held a cock but in those days, if you touched a lad, that was the foreplay done and he'd be in you as soon as he got his johnny on.