last-of-the-line-108

21 Ağustos 2022 Kapalı Yazar: analsex

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ass

Subject: Last of the Line – Chapter 108 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 108 That night has stayed in my memory ever since. I had had sex with Henry on many occasions, and that was to be the last. It was the only time I, or any of us apart from Henry, ever had sex with Peter, but sex with Peter was not something that any of us would forget quickly. As Henry had told us, and we could all see, Peter was blessed with five inches of perfect boyhood. Although there wasn’t a hair to be seen we soon found that his balls were very busy indeed. While he was sucking Jack’s cock – no, that does the boy no justice. While he had the whole of Jack’s cock down his throat Henry whispered that Peter had once cum five times in a night. This feat had been the talk of the choir when news of it leaked out of the treble line. Money had been staked on Peter’s likely performance with us that night, and (as he was to be the major beneficiary if all went to plan) Peter had, according to Henry, `kept his hands off it for 17 days’. Three of the choirmen had put together a plan whereby Peter would receive £2 the first time he came, with each successive cum earning double. The only requirement was that Henry was to witness spunk leaving Peter’s cock each time. Cuming inside an enclosed space of whatever kind would render that orgasm a non-earner. A dry cum would not count. Peter, according to Henry, had set his sights on going back to Fisher richer by £62. We would, as would Henry, see. Jack always came quickly when a new 13-year-old was on offer, and when the 13-year-old was as skilled a cock-sucker as Peter `quickly’ meant about three minutes. “Oh Jesus,” he moaned as Peter’s fingers stroked his balls as they fired jet after jet of spunk over the boy’s tonsils. Peter took care that every drop was carefully removed. “I want to suck all four of you,” he said, “but in between I want to cum too.” Henry said that he’d told me about the need for all Peter’s cums to be on display, but that he was prepared to allow a cum in someone’s mouth to count if the happy recipient displayed a mouthful before swallowing. “Up someone’s arse is not on though.” Billy stepped up to the plate. “I’ll fuck you, and you’ll cum on your belly before I’m done.” Peter eyed the bend and grinned. “I’ve not been fucked by a banana before.” “You’ll love it,” I said, “it reaches the parts other cocks don’t reach.” Peter stretched out a hand and stroked Billy’s cock. “So hard and so hot,” he whispered, “I need it in me, Billy.” Like a true professional he needed no instruction to lie on his back and put his knees by his ears. Had he been given such orders he would have laughed. Once on his back he fixed his eyes on Billy’s. “Come and get it,” he said seductively, and as Billy touched his cock-head to the boy’s arse lips he tucked both ankles behind his head. “That’s his party trick,” said Henry, who saw himself as Master of Ceremonies. The effect of his positioning was that his arse was wide open, as were his legs. “He’s greased,” said the MC, “we both are.” Billy set to with a will. Billy’s cock did what it said on the tin, as it were. Peter’s grin widened. “That’s new, I love it.” Billy gave him a couple of minutes of deep hard fucking then almost pulled out and placed his cock where he thought Peter’s prostate was likely to be and made repeated short fast fucking motions. As I expected Peter’s eyes closed and £2 was rung up on the cash register. It would be the cum producing the least money, but the quantity was awesome for a 13-year-old, even one with 17 days of stored-up spunk. Henry said that he had observed it carefully, and it could now be got rid of. Hamish got there first, beating Jack (who attacked from the other side) by a short head. The spunk was soon gone. Billy reverted to a deep fucking. He leaned forward, still deep inside, and whispered, “in, or on?” “In. I love the feeling of a man’s spunk squirting out of his cock right inside me.” He had come to the right place. So had Billy a few seconds later. As he felt Billy’s spunk Peter grabbed his still half-hard cock and wanked himself fast. Billy was still inside when Henry said “£4”. Peter sighed happily. “I like it here. Who wants to be sucked next?” Hamish leaned over the prone Peter. “I’m Jack’s boyfriend, so you ought to taste mine while you can still remember the taste of his.” Quite where Hamish had got this from I didn’t know, but Hamish had been living with us – and thus with Jack – for six months by now. Before kneeling over Peter he spent several seconds with his lips round Peter’s cock, the foreskin drawn back so that all the spunky residue could be licked up. “Mmm, that’s so sexy,” murmured Peter, “my cock loves being sucked.” He seemed to cover all the bases – he loved having someone cum in his mouth, he loved having someone cum up his arse and he could cum himself pleasingly quickly after a huge gushing. If we were to find out how good he was at fucking he’d have to whip it out at just the right moment if he was to profit from kilis escort it, and that required a degree of self-control rare in a boy of 13. Hamish finished sampling the delights and presented himself. “Your turn,” he said. Peter opened his mouth and put out his tongue. Hamish moved an inch forward and contact was made. Peter put his arms round Hamish’s waist and drew him right in. “Oh God! I’ve never had it in a 13-year-old’s throat before,” he groaned. “Have you had any of it in a 13-year-old?” asked Billy. Hamish shook his head. Henry said quietly that having it in an 11-year-old was a treat to be enjoyed too. Hamish, despite six months of living with us, hadn’t managed to slow things down with a 13-year-old at the helm, and the skilled Peter had Highland cum in his mouth a lot sooner than Hamish would have wished. “Tasty,” said the connoisseur, “and nothing like Jack’s.” Jack put his arms round Hamish, still kneeling over Peter, his cock soft against the boy’s chin. He leant over to catch the last drop, moving instantly to kiss his boyfriend – a kiss which continued while Peter watched, a big grin on his lips. “You two really are in love, aren’t you.” Hamish untangled himself. “Aye, but we’re not above playing elsewhere. Now it’s my turn to sample you, young Peter. Are you ready for number 3?” That expression was used again, and Hamish did. “It’s musky,” he said after a moment’s sampling, “and tangy and … oh, hell, it’s so sexy-making.” He knelt in a quasi-69, waggling his arse in front of Peter’s face in an unsubtle invitation. Peter was evidently no stranger to plying his tongue and lips an another boy’s arse. Henry told us that ‘doing each other like that’ was regarded among the current batch of trebles as being both the height of depravity and the height of pleasure. I don’t think I was the only one who had a moment’s regret that my adolescence, not without a great deal of sexual activity, had not included mutual rimming – well, not at 13 anyway. Hamish’s lips were busy and I noticed Peter raising his hips off the bed. “I think he wants fingers,” said the ever-watchful Billy, positioned at that end where his eyes hadn’t left a recently-fucked arse, albeit one as yet unspunked-in. Hamish reached down and rubbed two fingers round and round Peter’s arse lips. Peter’s arse lips mouthed the message that entry would be welcome. Three fingers went in. Peter hummed contentedly. It wasn’t long before the attention Hamish was paying to Peter’s cock and his arse attracted the attention of his balls. Henry was well aware of Peter’s approaching-orgasm signs and went round to perform his inspection. “Soon,” he muttered. Hamish was only too well aware of the belly convulsing under him and delivery was made. Noisily on this occasion as Peter groaned, his mouth clamped on Hamish’s arse. “Show,” demanded Hamish. Hamish opened his mouth. “OK. £8. You can swallow.” “I need a rest,” said Peter, “three cums in half an hour takes it out of you.” Hamish took his time. “Mmm,” he said, “that’s tasty. I wonder how 13 compares with an 11-year-old vintage.” “I’m ready if you are,” said Henry simply, “I’ve been waiting for this all evening. I’ve only ever done it with Dab. You don’t mind, Dab?” “Of course not, Henry. We’re all here to fuck each other.” ***** By midnight Peter had reached his target, and he was out of it completely by the time his fifth cum appeared. Three or four drops, “but it counts all right,” said Henry, adding, “I bet he’ll be desperate to try for another in the morning.” Jack and Hamish took him to bed with them while Henry cuddled between Billy and me. “Peter loved it when you fucked him, Billy,” he said in a little-boy voice, “please would you fuck me the same way?” “On your back then, Henry.” Henry had not expected the matter to last quite as long: Billy gave him one of his wonderful long fucks while I stroked his face and teased his nipples. After a while Billy pulled out (“no” from Henry) and lay on his back. “On top of me, Henry,” he whispered. I helped him onto Billy’s cock. Had Henry been on the same earning scale as Peter he would have amassed £30 by the time Billy groaned and at last filled the boy’s arse. “Stay in me, Billy,” he whispered, “I love the feeling of your cock.” I kissed him. Billy was asleep on Billy’s chest; Billy slipped out; so did a big gush of spunk. In normal circumstances I would have dealt with it, but when you have a recently-fucked 11-year-old in your bed fast asleep on your lover circumstances are not normal. No, indeed! Shortly before 8 o’clock I was awakened by someone shaking my shoulder. Peter. “Dab, I want to cum again. £64 will be worth having a sore cock for. I’ve done it twice on my belly, and once each in Hamish’s mouth and Jack’s mouth and on Billy last night. I haven’t done it with you, and it’s your house. I put my arms out. Billy and Henry were still asleep, Henry in Billy’s arms. “How do you want it?” I whispered, “shall I suck you off?” He nodded, “yes, and I’ll suck you too.” It was an agreeable way to start the day. “Have they fucked you this morning?” He shook his head. “Billy fucked me last night and so did Jack – I love great bog cocks.” “In that case I’ll rim you, because I love what comes out of great big cocks, and if it’s been in a boy’s arse all night it will be even raunchier. Come on.” I got on my back and he climbed aboard, his mouth fastening on my cock and his arse – raunchy indeed – in front of my face. I buried my nose in him, inhaling the night’s pleasure. My kıbrıs escort tongue was soon busy, as was his. Reaching to get his cock in my mouth would have been difficult, so I didn’t suck him off after all, though I managed to get his balls in my mouth briefly. Wise Peter sensed that we didn’t fit. “Just keep on at my arse, Dab, it’s magic what you’re doing,” and he returned his mouth to his work. I don’t know how it works, but my brain seems to know that a 13-year-old is at work, rather than someone of greater years, and the balls seemed to get the message too, for I was soon approaching release. “Yes, yes,” I moaned into his arse as I began to jerk as a healthy morning load shot out of me into his warm welcoming mouth. When I subsided he pushed his arse back even harder onto my mouth and raised himself. His fist flew. 30 seconds later he groaned. Henry had been awakened by the vigorous thrashing and looked over his shoulder to see three good lines of spunk shoot from Peter’s cock onto my belly. Despite being half asleep he was onto it almost before Peter’s cock had subsided. “Breakfast!” he cried. My cock was added to his meal, and my spunk soon joined Peter’s. Henry wasn’t going to leave without a ration of Billy’s as well. Breakfast – proper breakfast, that is – was a subdued feast. This was no doubt partly because the tour was over and the choir would disperse until October. Some of them had graduated – the two men who were a couple – and for them the fellowship of the choir was at an end. They were the liveliest, perhaps because they had been able to sleep together for over a year, and so the freedom afforded in a double bed wasn’t that unusual. For the men who had had a boy in their bed the opportunity for things other than sleep had not been wasted. Curiously the boys seemed as lively as they had been the evening before. It was the men who were slower to recover. When it was time to leave Henry gave me a big cuddle. “I’ll miss you, Dab,” he said, “but I will never forget you.” He broke off to look me in the eye. “Thank you,” he whispered. Peter was not to be outdone in his farewell. “Thanks for a super time, Dab. I didn’t know you fixed it all. Last night was special.” His hug was reserved for Billy. I couldn’t hear what he whispered but it made Billy laugh. Derek Montmorency and one of the trebles came to shake my hand. “Your house is charmed, Dab,” said Derek, “I know you and Billy, and Jack and Hamish are couples, and so are our two lovebirds, but last night the magic landed on us.” He and his boy were so obviously newly in love, their eyes glittering, their hands tightly clasped together. “Freddy told me he loved me, and I told him I felt exactly the same.” “It’s true,” said Freddy, a pretty boy of 13 with blue eyes to die for, “because we both cried.” That’s a good test of being in love, Freddy,” I said, “Billy and I used to cry a lot.” “Still do,” added Billy happily. When Rivers appeared with the other five they all piled into the bus. “Blimey,” said Hamish. It was hard to disagree. Billy told me that Peter had asked him to tell me that he, Peter, wouldn’t be happy until he found someone who loved him who had a big bent cock. “I was to tell you specifically that you were, in his view, the nicest man ever as well as the luckiest in having a boyfriend with a magic bent cock.” “Don’t let it go to your head, Billy.” “No, your lordship, it goes somewhere quite different.” ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Ben had moved in with me not long after we’d found we loved each other. I dreaded it in a way – either Ben would have to live a lie in Uttoxeter by being a servant during the day and my lover at night, or he would be presented as what he was. At least in 1971 what we would be doing was no longer illegal, but it was still regarded as taboo by most people. I wasn’t bothered about what the servants thought: if any proved hostile they could find work somewhere else; no, it was Arthur’s reaction which worried me. The day of Ben’s arrival drew closer and I still hadn’t solved it. Arthur’s 15th birthday was the next week. I remembered the fun we gad both had five years earlier on the Blackpool roller-coasters. Perhaps he was about to be hit by a roller-coaster of a different kind. At breakfast on his last day as a 14-year-old I asked him what treat he would like the next day. He didn’t hesitate. “I want you to treat me as an adult, Father. I’m not a fool, you know.” “In what way ‘treat you as an adult’? Is it time you want to be shown how to run the Estate, Arthur?” “No, though I’d like that too.” He was embarrassed, his red hair – like mine – always seemed to heighten his blushing. “I mean boys, Father. I’ve seen how you look at some of the other boys when you take me back to school. It’s the same way some of the beaks look at some of us. I don’t mind – they aren’t interested in me and I’m not interested in them either – and you’ve never said or done anything. Gosh! I feel such a fool saying all this.” His embarrassment grew. “What I mean is … if you fancy boys … I don’t mind.” I was taken aback. I had thought that my covert glances at some of his fellow pupils had not been noticed. “When I was 8 I was seduced by your grandfather. Before you leap to condemn him I must tell you that I loved it, loved everything we did – he and I and the other boys – men, really, I suppose – in the house in Ottawa. I loved your mother dearly, and from the moment I met her until years after her death she was the only kırıkkale escort person in my heart – or my bed. I vowed that I would never do to you what James did to me. Although I was glad about what we had done it was not my right to choose a path for you in the matter of sex. You’re old enough now to choose for yourself.” “Father, I’m still too young to choose. When I said I wasn’t interested in the beaks I didn’t mean I was some kind of monkish virgin. We boys fool around, but … well, that’s it really.” He stopped suddenly, and I guessed there was more to come. I kept my mouth shut, but smiled. After a long pause he smiled too. “I do have a special friend,” he said quietly, “but just one. We do things together, the same things that some of the beaks want to do, and the same things grandfather probably did to you.” “In that case you and he are behaving just like any other teenagers. You’re right: you’re too young to know your own road. You may choose mine, you may not. As you know, mine changed – twice – so you shouldn’t feel that any choice you make now sets your life in concrete.” He nodded. I felt able to take the next step. When I told him all he said was that he’d prefer it if Ben didn’t move in until after he’d gone back to school. As that was only two weeks away I agreed. “By the Christmas holidays you and Ben will be established and I’ll have got used to the idea. You never know, I might invite Piers home to keep me warm in bed.” I had no idea whether he was joking or not. ***** Christmas came, but there was no sign of Piers. Arthur and Ben treated each other warily for the first day or two, but soon seemed to accept the other as being friendly, but nothing beyond that. It wasn’t ideal, but it could have been much worse. ***** I had a phone call from Ace in April 1972. Was I still wanting them to come? We agreed to meet to discuss final plans the next week. They were doing a conversion in Coventry and I agreed to drive to see them. They gave me the address of the property they were working in, and we agreed to meet there. “The owner won’t mind and you can see the sort of things that we can do,” Jack told me. When I got there I was amazed at what they were doing. It’s one thing being told what can be done to make a wet room, but quite another to stand in a half-finished one and have all the details pointed out. “I want one just like this,” I said. “OK, but the details will have to fit into your house, Bertie. Your big room is quite a bit bigger than this.” We agree to meet in their hotel that evening to go through the fine details. “We’ll show you our plans,” said Jack, “and if you like them we can come to you when we’re finished here – say three weeks.” Ace added that there was still time to make changes, “we haven’t ordered anything yet.” That evening they went through every detail with me, and I was happy to agree to it all. “You’ll stay with me while you’re working. There’s nowhere in the village and I’ve plenty of bedrooms.” Ace nodded. “That helps. When we finish here every night we have to trek two miles to this place when we’d rather carry on until it’s dark. Being on the premises is better.” They asked me to have dinner with them, but Arthur was at home and I wanted time with him before he went back to school. “We’ll eat together often enough at Inverthrum.” We shook hands on the deal: they would start on 22 May. ***** I won’t describe the building work – it’s not particularly interesting. What matters is the result. They worked solidly for almost three weeks. They broke for a beer-and-sandwiches lunch as near to 12.30 as they could. “Ace is a creature of habit,” Jack told me one day, “and he knocks off at 5.30 unless we’re pouring concrete.” As they had started straight after breakfast (prepared by my own fair hands at 8 each morning) I wasn’t complaining. I looked in occasionally when asked, but otherwise left them to it. At the beginning of the third week Ace put his head round the study door midway through the afternoon. “Have you thought about the house-warming do?” “How do you mean, Ace?” He came in and I asked him to sit down. “Usually when we do one of these the owner has a party – a select one – to welcome his friends to the new playroom and its special facilities. We like to be there, not just for the fun, but to make sure that everything’s working properly. I’ll be honest though, Bertie, it’s 99% for the fun.” During the two weeks they had been staying under my roof I had come to know just how much fun time spent with the two of them was. They were completely relaxed about a threesome, and equally relaxed, as Ace put it on about Day Four, should I prefer to invite just one of them into my bed. By that time we had spent the night together twice and, much as I found the idea of three in a bed stimulating, at my age three was one more than I could really enjoy. Ace had the biggest cock I have ever seen, damn nearly 11 inches of it, and when you are fucked by 11 inches you know you’ve been fucked. And Ace was a brilliant fucker. Jack wasn’t as big, but he was more considerate, and much more versatile. I wouldn’t want you to think that Ace was a one-trick pony by any means, but Jack – Jack was the ideal lover. Happy to be top or bottom, equally skilled with cock and mouth, and inventive as a bagful of monkeys. The first time he and I spent the night together he told me (in between bouts: I need plenty of recovery time) about how he and Ace met. He’d been only 14 and his story was fascinating. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 109 as the house-warming is enjoyed. Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32