Date: Sat, 23 Oct 2010 09:11:38 +0000 From: Josh Long Subject: A Circle of Hazel Trees: Young But Not Too Young A collection of short stories, each complete in itself, but linked to the others by a common setting and interwoven events. Warning: these stories, all works of fiction and imagination, contain graphic descriptions of sex between an adult male and teenage boys. If reading such material is illegal in your state or country, or because of your age, you are advised not to continue. For those who do continue, I hope the time spent reading them is considered time enjoyably spent. YOUNG, BUT NOT TOO YOUNG Late July, a Friday afternoon and the last full week of term, and David Masters was supervising the year 7 boys through the showers after their energetic games' lesson. Two days past his fortieth birthday, David would normally have regarded this part of his job with some enthusiasm, but boys of late twelve and very early thirteen held no interest for him. That others liked their boys this age was something he was well aware of, but it was a taste he did not subscribe to, not really understanding why anyone should want a boy whose cock was still undeveloped and incapable of spurting. Boys only became interesting for David when they had something you could get a hand round, not just be able to use finger and thumb on, and, very importantly, had something that spurted lovely, tasty cream into your mouth when you were sucking them. For David, boys became interesting when they were about fourteen, desirable when they were fifteen and passed beyond bothering with when hair ruined their legs. He didn't ignore the boys as they noisily showered; of course he didn't. They were boys after all, and he wasn't going to waste the chance of checking out those who might provide possible, future, entertainment for his eyes, and, maybe if he was really lucky, for more than just his eyes. He regarded them with much the same attitude as a gardener might regard young seedlings, trying to spot the ones that would develop into something special. In David's eyes, this was a valid exercise, a sort of early weeding out. A pretty face might hold promise, a slender body and long, coltish legs would be worth noting down and watching as it developed; but sometimes the pretty face and slender body was ruined by the lack of a foreskin, and foreskin was very important to David. It was, he thought, so disappointing to mark a boy down for bedding, pursue him and flirt with him and finally to get a hand inside his underwear only to find he had been circumcised. He would still bed the boy, naturally, enjoy his cream; but it was always so much nicer when that cream spurted from a well foreskinned cock, especially so when that foreskin was long and tight. Yes, ok, it was a fetish, David was happy with that; perhaps it was just a tiny bit kinky to like cocks of that nature, but what the hell, everyone has their own particular fancies! David's eyes slid, with an almost professional interest, over slender chests and slim, smooth thighs; noting those who's, as yet undeveloped and hairless groins, showed something that might be worth following up in a year or two. His slightly detached observation switched to one of active interest as a boy casually made his naked way to the showers. Most of the boys dashed in, conscious of their nudity, and covered themselves as quickly as possible when they left; but this boy didn't. He casually shed his shirt, shorts and underwear, ignored his towel, and sauntered into the shower room almost as though he was flaunting his possessions. David's eyes widened and he drew in a slow, deep breath as he focussed on the boy. If he was flaunting himself, then he had reason to do so. A well-built boy, a little taller than most of his age group, and, unlike the rest of his class, he had pubic hair; not much, but enough to draw attention to what was below. A cock that had started to grow, to lengthen and thicken into adolescence; a cock that hinted of at least four inches of hardness; a cock that owned an ample foreskin and hung limply over balls that had obviously dropped and were already producing the cream that David so loved: and this on a boy of barely thirteen, a boy whose legs were smooth as silk; a boy of an age that would not normally have interested David. But David was interested, very interested, very interested indeed! He knew this boy; he lived opposite David, in a small hamlet in rural, ancient Wiltshire, which contained nothing else that was of an age to have any appeal for a teen loving man. `Roy' was the boy's name, and Roy was a boy David had already casually listed down as one he would need to watch as the months went by. He'd only seen the boy clothed before, but now, after seeing in some detail what the boy possessed, now he was determined to get to know him better, not in the future, but now! Yes, he was young, but a boy with a cock that spunked was not, as far as David was concerned, too young! If he could hook, and reel in, a boy who at no more than a few weeks past his thirteenth birthday, could feed him mouthfuls of protein, how much pleasure would he get before hair grew on those already full thighs? Roy made his casual way to the showers, crossing the changing room aware of the eyes that followed him. Eyes always followed him when he went into the showers, the eyes of other boys, full of both jealousy and admiration; eyes that belonged to boys who wished their equipment was as well developed as his. But there was another set of eyes fixed on him this time, Roy could sense it; he could feel those eyes centre in on his centre as clearly as he would have seen the red dot of a gun's laser sighter. He didn't turn his head to check on the location of those eyes, he didn't need to. They felt different from the usual stares; no jealousy; admiration yes, but a different admiration from that shown by twelve year old boys; this was an admiration tinged with something else..........appreciation, perhaps? Or something more than just appreciation, something like desire? Not being a shy boy, Roy had no qualms about being looked at, quite the opposite, in fact. He deliberately shed all his clothes in the changing rooms, with never any attempt to conceal the bits some other boys tried so hard to prevent from appearing in public. He always made his way unhurriedly to the showers so that the eyes that followed his progress had plenty of time to observe and admire and he enjoyed the jealousy behind those eyes. Roy was top dog in his class in terms of cock development, and he relished the position. `Look as much as you want, and eat your hearts out,' was his reaction to the looks that came the way of his naked body. Now there was this other type of look, a look that brought with it a degree of interest, and, knowing exactly what he was doing, Roy paused and spoke to another boy, turning a little as he did so, allowing those other eyes an uninterrupted, full frontal view. He felt the look intensify, but still he made no effort to send his own eyes on a search for the owner of the look, he already knew who that was. No twelve year old would look at him like that, so the looker must be the teacher, a man who lived near him and had shown no apparent interest in his existence before this moment. `Like seein' me cock, though, don't you!' Roy thought to himself as he turned again and headed into the showers He dismissed the look and his thought as he laughed and teased with the other boys under the warm spray, but the look was back again as he emerged and made his way back to his towel and his clothes. "Go on, then," Roy thought and turned to present his full glory to the staring eyes, "Have a good gawk!" There was no immediate thought in Roy's mind that this would lead to other things, no suggestion that his cock was available for more than just looking at, but having it looked at by a man did stir something within him. He knew, without having to think about it, that the owner of the staring eyes wanted more than just eye contact with his cock, but that knowledge neither bothered nor excited him; it was interesting, slightly amusing in a way, and probably something he'd think about later when he next wanked, but for now it was just one of those things. Once he'd got his clothes on, he promptly forgot about it. David didn't forget about it though, he was already trying to work out a plan that would lead to having that well-developed, thirteen year old cock creaming in his mouth. Young Roy had a bit of a reputation at school; he'd been caught smoking more than once, and was known to be less than fully attentive in class, not at all averse to telling his teachers exactly what they could do with themselves, and this, as far as David was concerned, made young Roy very interesting. If the boy was already into tobacco, there was a decent chance he wouldn't reject the opportunity of indulging in alcohol, and if David could get a few beers inside him there might be a very good chance he could get a hand inside somewhere as well. All he needed was the opportunity. David was no novice when it came to getting inside boys' underwear, and his strike rate was decently high. If he succeeded, then young Roy would be the seventh to yield up his delights in the six years David had been teaching at this school, plus one more, who was educated elsewhere. His high success rate wasn't down to luck, it was more a matter of careful selection. Firstly, the boy had to appeal to him, and that wasn't just a matter of good looks or a decent body. True, a stunningly attractive boy would draw his initial interest and there had been a lot of gorgeous lads who had sat in his classes and had him wishing that they were sitting there naked, but he'd known there was no future in attempting anything other than covert, appreciative looks leading to imaginary appearances in later masturbation fantasies. Giving boys practical sex education was not something he was supposed to do, so however much his cock thought how nice it would be to have a particular set of adolescent lips around it, those lips had to belong to a boy whose character and behaviour held out hope that the lip-owner would be happy to use them for cock sucking purposes and not for telling parents or headmasters that Mr. Masters had attempted to seduce him. This pre-condition ruled out a good three quarters of the boys who were physically desirable, and for David that meant not overweight. Skinny was okay, but not fat; looks mattered not at all -- David had enjoyed delightful sex with more than one boy whose facial appearance would have ruled him out of even the preliminary rounds in any boy beauty contest, but whose flesh, from the neck downwards, would have stiffened the cock of any right thinking adult male. It was a pre-condition, David knew, that had meant a few boys had slipped through his net, but he was willing to accept those losses as a reasonable cost for staying out of prison. Teenage boys tend to be pack animals, herding together for mutual protection. A boy who is not part of a pack is prey, and the pack will rip him to pieces; a boy who is not part of a pack is a boy who will be bullied -- verbally, physically or both. Sometimes, such a boy will seek the protection of a superior force, giving his body to a man in return for apparent safety from the pack. But often in those cases, the pack will circle, snarl from a distance and spread rumour, knowing that rumour will be sufficient to destroy reputation, and that far from being safe in the man's arms, both man and boy can be eaten alive. David avoided those boys. But there are other boys, boys who might run with the pack but are not part of the pack, boys who use the pack as a cover, boys who command the pack's respect. They are superior to the pack and the pack know it. They may be bigger and stronger than any other pack member, they may have athletic prowess that the pack respect and admire, they may have skills and intelligence beyond the pack norm, but they do not flaunt their superiority and they are not rejected by the pack, they are welcomed by it because when such a boy is part of a pack, the pack feels stronger, superior. Those boys David did not avoid, those boys he sought, tracked, examined and, if they seemed suitable, he hunted. Firstly, the boy had to be one who was obviously comfortable in the company of a man. This didn't mean that the boy was panting after sex, just that he was relaxed and able to regard an adult male as a member of the same species; something that again eliminated a huge number of prospects, so many teenagers regarding adults as no more than shades who inconveniently occupied the same planet as themselves; as being the natural enemies of the pack. Secondly the boy had to be one who was not confined into the straitjacket of teenage peer behaviour; any boy who was so confined would never be able to accept that he could have so much more fun with the contents of his briefs or boxers than conventional teenage mores considered acceptable. The boys David considered, examined and eventually pursued were the boys whose attitudes and behaviour demonstrated that they were both adventurous enough to be willing to `try anything once', and secure enough with themselves to dismiss and forget anything they tried and decided that once was enough. That happened from time to time and David's list of `scored boys' included several who had given him a couple of hours of fun, but then, despite him wanting more, declined repeat performances, deciding that, enjoyable as it had been, it was not for them. In many such cases they had remained friends, but not `friends with benefits'. These were boys who could go in and out of the pack at will. Young Roy seemed to tick all the relevant boxes, so the question was how to get to know him enough to be sure that those ticks were real and that pursuit and eventual seduction had a reasonable chance of success, and that the risk of bringing the pack down in baying pursuit was minimal or nil. Whilst David was working this out, Roy was doing some thinking of his own. With six older brothers, Roy had been aware from a very early age that cock was not just for pissing with and that older boys liked to give their equipment some regular, nightly exercise. Not that any of his brothers had made any attempt to introduce him to that particular form of recreational activity, but, following the age old learning method of copying, Roy had been dealing with his increasingly frequent erections for two or three years and it was a form of exercise that gave him considerable and consistent pleasure. Now, as he lay, naked as he always was when he went to bed, gently playing with his ample foreskin, something he'd discovered long ago teased his cock into an almost painful, pre-wanking hardness, he was recalling those moments in the school showers that afternoon. "He really did have a fuckin' good stare," Roy thought to himself, and, as his cock hardened, he added another thought, "Reckon he wanted to do more than just stare at it." He switched from just playing with his foreskin to using index finger and thumb to stimulate just the very tip of his now solid cock, gripping only quite lightly, teasing his organ into demanding a full fist grip and the inevitable, vigorous pounding that would follow. "Reckon the fuckin' dirty cunt fancies me," and finding that thought interesting, moved from finger tips to full hand, wanking furiously to an orgasm caused, in his mind, not by his own pounding right hand, but by a wide variety of activities visited on him by his near neighbour and teacher. Even after his spunk had squirted and begun to make fresh stains to join the already existing ones on his bed sheet, even in those post-orgasmic moments when boys sometimes wonder if the wank fantasies they had just indulged in were the sort of things they should think about, Roy had no problems with the images that had been so vivid in his mind; vivid, but just a little unfocussed because he had no practical experience on which to construct them. Sex, for thirteen year old Roy, had been confined to the very frequent wanks that he indulged in, and his hormone charged mind was in no mood to make unnecessary distinctions as to the nature of alternative methods of satisfying the demands of his already refilling balls. If there was a chance that someone might do his wanking for him, then Roy was not the slightest bit bothered that the someone was an adult male and not an adolescent female. Sex was, after all, sex, and Roy wanted sex! Roy's problem was now a simple one, how to get his teacher's hand on his cock? No worries about the legality, and certainly none about the morality; there was a chance of some real sex and Roy was gagging for real sex. And so, while David Masters was trying to work out how he could, without exciting suspicion, get to do his vital background research, to find out more about the boy's personality and decide if it would be safe to proceed with a programme of calculated seduction leading to a removal of the boy's underwear, Roy was thinking about how he could create a situation whereby his underwear could be removed. Even the horniest thirteen year old knows that he couldn't just go up to a teacher, drop his school trousers and say, "I know you want it, so go ahead and have it," so Roy needed a plan that would make it obvious he was up for sex and all that his teacher needed to do was organise the time and place. The answer was blindingly simple and obvious, all he had to do was `accidentally' bump into him a few times, let himself be found wandering around in the woods around his teacher's house; that should do it. They'd talk, sex would be suggested and agreed to. The precise details of how that would happen were not relevant. His teacher fancied Roy's cock, Roy was happy to let his teacher have his cock; no problem! Roy slipped off into blissful sleep, cupping his balls and secure in the certainty that, in the very near future, it would not be his hand that was cupping those very active sperm makers. It was hot, too hot to be practical for any of the formal gardening that needed doing, but ideal for casually wandering around the two acres of woodland that adjoined his house. David's was the only property in the hamlet that was so blessed, the other cottages having once been labourers' dwellings, each with its own smallish rectangle of garden intended for the growing of vegetables to supply the families' tables. He liked his bit of woodland, it was his own private place, though it was unfenced and, from time to time, used as a playground by whatever children happened to be around. One spot in particular he liked most; a circle of hazel trees, too regular to have grown by accident and too random for David, or any of the other locals, to have the remotest idea why it was there. There were stories, as there always are in rural settlements, and this little circle of trees enclosing, not rough scrub as might have been expected, but an almost lawn like area of low grass, so low it was almost as though sheep grazed on it, except that there were no sheep, was known locally as `The Witches Coven'. It was deep in the middle of his patch of woodland, almost surrounded by a painful barrier of bramble, blackthorn and hawthorn, the only wound free approach being a rough path from his house. Because of its natural barrier and because of its name (and therefore the probability in young minds that it was haunted) and because the path was visible from David's lounge windows, local children never ventured there and it was very much a private place. Whether it had ever been the location of satanic or any other rituals was something for the individual imagination, but it had, since David had bought the place, been the site of copulation with a fair number of boys. It never ceased to amaze David that a boy, who would stoutly defend his anal virtue inside a comfortable house, would surrender it almost recklessly in the al fresco setting of The Witches Coven. Perhaps, David fantasised as he made his way along the path, coolbox in hand, full of chilled beer, plus half a bottle of something a bit stronger, that was the real secret of the place; that, long ago, it had been the location of some long forgotten fertility rites and that the old magic of invocated sex still lingered there. Whatever the truth, it was certainly a place where David liked to shed his clothes and masturbate to the dreams of naked boys, as well as take real boys there to fuck. He stopped a few paces away from the opening in the hazels, staring in surprise. His secret place was not secret; it contained a boy and not a boy that David had brought there! And not just any boy, but the boy who's well formed thirteen year old genitalia he had so avidly devoured with his eyes in the showers yesterday! And the boy, if not naked this time, was certainly half way there, his discarded shirt leaving his upper half open to David's instantly lascivious gaze. "Roy," he almost gasped, "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Just havin' a wander through the woods; thought this'd be a good place to have a sit down," Roy smiled cheekily, noting with satisfaction that the man's eyes were gazing at his nipples with as much avid attention as his own eyes would have stared at a girl's tits. "Don't mind, do you?" "No," David said, his eyes still glued to the two brown nubs, "No, I don't mind at all. Just wondered how you got here without me seeing you." "Dunno; praps you weren't lookin'." "No, perhaps I wasn't," David agreed, going into the circle of trees and putting his coolbox on the grass floor. "You ain't got any drink in there, have you?" Roy asked hopefully, "Me mouth's drier than a witch's tit." Stage one of David's research was completed; Roy's reaction to his arrival was enough to satisfy him that procedure to pre-seduction status was safe. "Only got beer, I'm afraid, and you might be a bit young for that," he said as casually as he could. "Fuck off!" Roy snorted, "No way!" "I see," David mused, "And I suppose you're going to tell me you're not too young for a fag to go with it?" "You got fags as well? Wicked!" Roy chortled and moved from sitting to lying on the soft, mossy grass, shifting a bit when David sat so the view he was presenting wasn't spoiled in any way. The first can safely necked and the first cigarette finished, Roy was wondering why things weren't going to plan. They were now both lying on the grass, close, but not too close, and although David's eyes had spent lots of time admiring the naked chest near him, and even more than one attempt to see if there was any discernable bulge in Roy's jeans, he had said and done nothing that could even remotely be associated with sex. That was not how it should have been, not at all how it had been in Roy's imagination. Here he was, alone and half naked with a guy who he was certain wanted his cock, and nothing had happened; surely some move on him should have been made by now? What the fuck was he supposed to do? "Fuckin' hot, init," he said, "Fuckin' boilin' in these jeans." He didn't know why he said it; the words had just come into his mind and out of his mouth. It was just the sort of moment David had been wondering how he could engineer, a chance to move their inconsequential chat into a more definite area. "Should have worn shorts," he grinned, "Let your legs get a bit of air." "An' got me skin ripped off gettin' through all them fuckin' brambles," Roy responded. "Fuckin' lovely!" "No brambles in here," David pointed out, "Just nice, comfortable grass." "Yeh, an' like I'm wearin' shorts under me jeans," Roy snorted back. "I don't mind if you want to drink beer in your boxers," David suggested, "Won't bother me." `Bet it fuckin' wouldn't,' Roy thought, and then realised this might actually be the beginning of the move he had been hoping for. "Briefs, not boxers," Roy told him. "Whatever;" David paused, let a moment's silence hang in the air, before adding, "Though how you can wear briefs in this weather beats me. You must have boiled balls." "Fuckin' right!" Roy confirmed. "But feel free if you want to get those jeans off and give your legs a chance to breathe. Makes no odds to me, they're your legs, not mine." This, Roy thought, was a bit better, he had a perfect excuse to get his jeans off; now all he needed was something to make the next step happen and his briefs to go as well so the guy could get at his cock. `Please,' Roy prayed silently, `Please let him go for my cock! I want my cock dealt with, I want him to make me spunk!' It was imagination, of course, it was his heart pounding at the possibility of the sex he so craved for, but Roy could have sworn he felt the ground under him move ever so slightly as he made a condition he knew would be agreed to; "Yeh, okay, but only if I can have another beer." `You can have as many beers as you want if it means I can get at that cock,' David thought; he thought it, but he said, "Feel free, help yourself;" and the ground moved for him as well as his heartbeat increased. Roy prised himself from the ground, helped himself to a beer from the coolbox, carefully opened it, took a deep swig and then, facing David, unbuckled his belt, undid the button on his jeans, slid down the zip, eased down his jeans and stepped carefully out of them, making it as close to a strip tease as he knew how. He posed for just a second before returning to the ground, lying just as close as he had been before. David's eyes never left the boy's groin, noting the distinct swelling inside his black briefs. The boy wasn't hard, but he certainly was not in a fully flaccid state either. `Oh, I want that cock!' David thought, his heart pounding now; `I really, really want that cock!' And again his blood thumped hard enough to make it feel as though it was the earth, not his heart, that was thumping. But instead of reaching for the boy's groin, he reached for the last beer instead. "Give us a fag," Roy demanded. David extended the packet, but Roy shook his head; "I said give us one," and he held up his hand, holding his beer can to indicate that he couldn't take one for himself. David sighed, extracted a cigarette and held it out towards the boy, who promptly opened his mouth for David to put it in. Sighing again, David leaned forward, holding the cigarette just above the filter tip, leaned forward so he could reach the boy's mouth and went to drop it on the extended tongue. Before he could let it go, Roy's mouth closed, lips round David's cigarette holding finger and thumb and slowly sucked it from his grip, before moving his head slowly back and sliding his still lightly closed lips from David's finger. It was incredibly sensual, and, had it been done by someone other than a thirteen year old boy, David would instantly have taken it as a sexual suggestion, but, since the subject of sex hadn't been raised the whole time they had been in the hazel circle, David took it as simply the act of a now less than sober boy. `He must know what he's doing,' David thought, and stared again at the boy's briefs, now longing to get inside them. "Ta," Roy said and waited for David to light his cigarette for him. "We're out of beers now, an' I'll have to go home soon," Roy said as he put his now empty can on the grass. "True," David agreed, "But there is this." He had no desire for the almost naked boy to leave now, so he reached into the cool box and pulled out a half full bottle of peach brandy. "What is it?" the boy asked, holding out his hand for the bottle. David passed it to him and Roy promptly uncorked it, sniffed it and lifted it to his lips. "Neat," he pronounced after taking a sip, and then followed the sip with a healthy gulp. "Well neat," he amended and lay back, the sunlight filtering through the hazels, making what David thought very attractive patterns on his almost naked body. "Doing things like that could get you into trouble," David said, softly. "Like what?" David waited until Roy had finished his cigarette, then held out another, just as he had done before, and Roy took it just as he had done before; again David's finger was sucked sensuously. "Like that," he almost whispered. "What sorta trouble?" the boy's voice was as low as David's. "This sort of trouble," David, putting aside all the demands of being sensible, ignoring all the risks associated with his action, reached out his hand again, not with a cigarette for the boy's mouth this time, but daringly and dangerously, directly onto the boy's briefs covered groin. If he'd misread the signals, the boy would object, verbally or violently, but instead of any objection, the boy took another swig of peach brandy, and said, "Probably won't get nothin' out of it; had too much booze." Through the thin cotton of his briefs, David could feel the boy starting to stir, and, in the absence of any objections, pressed his hand against the rising within. "I don't know," he said, "There seems to be signs of life." Roy giggled and rolled onto his back, which David took as an invitation to squeeze the developing hardness. Roy said nothing, simply closing his eyes and waiting for the worst to happen. When the worst, or perhaps the best so far, did happen and David's hand worked its way inside, down into his briefs and grasped the now rampant flesh within, he opened his eyes again, looked directly into David face and said, "Took you fuckin' long enough!" He moved again, sitting up and feverishly plunging his hand up the leg of David's shorts and, finding no underwear to restrict him, pulling David's almost as solid thick, six inches out into the air. They didn't stay in the air for long, the boy going straight down and taking them in his mouth. David gasped, in sudden shock and delight at the feel of those full, thirteen year old lips suckling him, a gasp that turned into a moan of pleasure as it became obvious that the boy had no intention of making this a quick taste. His hand tightened round the boy rod he was holding, relishing the velvet slide of skin around the rigidity beneath. "Thought you had to go home," he muttered when his brain came back enough for him to mutter. "Lied," the boy grunted, taking his mouth from David's cock only long enough to grunt. David eased the boy away, not because he wanted to stop him but because he wanted, needed, to remove his briefs and deal with the boy properly. Before he could do so, Roy beat him to it, almost ripping his briefs off in his eagerness to be naked for David to get at him properly. Without hesitation, David tore off his own shorts as well. The moment all unnecessary clothing was removed Roy returned his mouth to where it had been. "You done this before?" David croaked and the boy paused in his oral administrations just long enough to say, "No." It took only a few shifts in body position before David was able to swallow the four and a bit boy inches that so demanded his own oral attention and a frantic few minutes of mutual fellatio followed before Roy pulled away and changed position again, presenting his rear to David in an obvious invitation, begging for him to enter. Lust overcame logic, and although David knew there was no way his thick adult cock could penetrate an unopened, dry, virgin, thirteen year old hole, he still presented his rod to the boy's pleading entrance. To his amazement he felt the boy's sphinctre begin to yield, its hot lips parting to admit the tip of his prick. The sensation was indescribable; he'd fucked boys before, of course he had, he'd fucked five here, on this very grass in the circle of hazel trees, and fucked them all many times more than once, but never had a boy opened so easily, and opened with no preparation. He knew that, somehow, he could push on, slide his hard cock deep inside the boy's tunnel and do so with no resistance, no pain, but Roy stopped him. "Not all the way," he croaked, his voice thick with the same lust as David, "Just in and out like it is now. It fuckin' feels amazin'." Somehow David obeyed, stopping himself from thrusting all the way inside the boy's hot, begging to be fucked bowels, making himself give the boy no more than the tip of his sword and knowing that the boy under him was fighting the urge to push himself deeper, holding back on his desire to have the entire weapon sheathed inside him. He wanted to be fucked, he so, so wanted to be fucked, to have that thick cock inside him, pumping its life creating spunk deep into his insides, but something was telling him `not this time, this time you must worship his cock with your mouth, eat his sperms, just as he will worship your cock and eat your spunk; and you must do it together.' Moments, minutes, ages later, Roy rolled away, onto his back, his arms reaching for the man, pulling him back down on top of him, gluing their mouths together and sending his tongue in search of adult tonsils. David responded, sending his own tongue on an exploration of the boy's mouth, finding his tongue to twist and dance with while their hands forced themselves between their close pressed bodies to seek and grasp hot, hard tubes of lust. Breaking the deep, blood-boiling kiss, David turned and swung his legs over the boy so he could drive his cock into the mouth that opened to receive it while his own head went down so he could engulf the four and a bit inches of boy he now craved with a desire that was almost frightening in its intensity. He drove his own cock down, feeling it go deep into the boy's mouth, feeling the tightness as it went into his throat; incredibly this boy who claimed to have never had cock before was deep throating him as though it was something he did every day. Knowing, and not knowing why he knew, that no restraint was needed, David thrust hard and deep into the boy's throat, and as he did so, the boy thrust upwards with his own hips until both man and boy had lips pressed against their pubes, the entirety of their love rods in the hot, wet heaven of cock adoring mouths. This was no gentle sucking where the mouth is used to pleasure cock, no oral admiration of the shaft of joy, no tongue searching for balls to bathe or perineum to stimulate; this was simple, mutual face fucking of an intensity that David had never experienced nor the boy even knew was possible. "Cumming," David gasped, expecting the boy to pull off, to not want in this, his first ever encounter, to have his mouth filled with hot spunk, but instead of taking his mouth from David's cock, he sucked in his cheeks so that David was held fast and his prick exploded in its hot, wet prison, jetting spunk down the boy's throat and filling his mouth with what could not be instantly swallowed. David's body went limp, shuddering in post-orgasmic release, but his mouth stayed full of thrusting boy cock, and, knowing his own orgasm, and this violent, uninhibited, cock worshiping union, would not be truly complete until the boy had, in turn, filled mouth with sperm, he forced himself to work with the boy, meeting Roy's upwards thrusts with downward ones of his head until the boy's body stiffened, his legs went rigid and his cock fired its teenage canon blasts of hot cream. "Fuckin' awesome," Roy breathed as David went in search of his cigarettes and lighter. "Sorry about almost fucking you," David apologised when he'd slipped a cigarette between lips that still had traces of spunk around them. "Nah, that's okay," Roy croaked, his throat sore from swallowing David's cock, "I dunno why, but somethin' made me stop you goin' all the way in. I guess I just wanted you to spunk in me mouth this time." "Did it hurt?" David was concerned; fucking boys was good, hurting them wasn't. "Nah," a pause, "Should it have?" David was at a loss, a cock as thick as his going even just a fraction inside an unprepared, unlubed, virgin hole, should have been screamingly painful, but he could have gone all the way in, balls deep, and the boy would have just opened to welcome him. "I hadn't even rimmed or fingered you," David tried to explain, then made something of a joke of it, adding, "Arses might be designed for fucking, but they usually need to be coaxed into opening up first." Roy shrugged, the complexities of man-boy fucking were of no concern or interest. "Better do that next time," he said. "Next time?" "School holidays soon, an' this is a good place to chill," Roy looked at the ground, crushed his cigarette stub on the grass and then looked up, a big smile on his face; "Spect you'll find me here most afternoons if the weather's decent." "It is a good place to chill," David agreed." He thought for a moment, drew in a breath and confessed, "I often come down here for a beer and a wank." "Bring the beer in case I'm here," Roy grinned, "An' if I am, you won't need to wank." "No, I guess I won't," David agreed and they both grinned as the sunlight filtered through the leaves onto their naked bodies. "There's something strange about this place, don't you think?" David asked, his eyes searching the circle of hazel trees. "Like what?" "I don't know, just something." David struggled to say what he felt, what he always felt when he came here. "Like there's no insects or things. We should get bitten to death and have ants crawling all over us, but there's nothing. Don't even get birds in these trees for some reason." "Don't think you'd fancy a bird," Roy sniggered. "Too right," David grinned, "Not when there's something like you as an alternative." He reached for Roy's now soft, and because it was soft, so attractive young prick. Roy sighed as hand found his treasures and fondled them softly. "Really won't get nothin' out of it now," he grinned. "No, but it's nice just as it is." And that was true; playing with a boy's softness was a relaxing comfort in itself, it didn't have to be a prelude to hardness. "Help yourself," Roy shrugged, "It certainly ain't objecting." He settled back on the insect free, soft mossy grass and closed his eyes while David fondled his balls, a fondling that had nothing to do with sex but everything to do with admiration and worship of his most treasured possessions. A hint of breeze stirred the leaves around them and a shaft of sunlight landed on Roy's adored groin. "You're right though," he said with his eyes still shut, "There is somethin' odd about this place. When I got in here I felt so amazingly horny. If you hadn't showed up I was gonna strip an' wank an' spunk on the grass." "I know what you mean," David agreed, almost reverently, "It gets me like that as well; that's why I often come here to wank." And why I bring boys here to fuck, he thought, but did not say. "Strange, init," Roy found himself confessing, "I knew you fancied me from the moment I saw you lookin' at me in the showers," he paused, opened his eyes; "Give us another fag." Cigarette lit, he continued, eyes still open, "I was tryin' to work out how I could make it so you'd do somethin' an' I got the idea of lettin' you find me in the woods. Then I found this place an' soon as I got in here I just wanted to spunk." "And I was trying to work out a way of getting to know you well enough to see if I was in with a chance of being able to seduce you," David confessed as well. "More like me havin' to seduce you," Roy snorted, "Suckin' those fags off yer fingers!" "Dunno why I did it," Roy tried to think it through. "I just knew when I thought about the way you looked at me in the showers that I wanted you to do more than look, an' when I got in here I felt so fuckin' horny. Then when you showed up I knew I had to have sex, an' have it here an' now. No fuckin' messin', I wanted it!" He took a breath, looked at David, his eyes begging that the man who had sucked him would understand; "I wanted cock." David was silent, waiting for the boy to continue. "An' when you didn't do nothin' didn't even make a fuckin' hint you wanted it, I had to do somethin'. I thought about just strippin' and sayin' `if you want it here it is,' but that didn't seem right. So I made up that crap about bein' hot an' thank fuck you took the hint, and once me jeans was off, suckin' yer finger got you goin'." "Certainly did," David agreed, "There was no way your cock was staying untouched after that!" "Fuckin' good job!" Roy sniggered, "I was gaggin' for sex;" he paused and then sniggered again, "As you may have noticed once you'd finally got yer hand on me cock!" "Got me hand on your cock now," David pointed out. "Yeh, an' you can have it there as much as you want; I love it." "Girls?" David asked gently. He didn't need to elaborate, to enquire in detail if Roy's interests might really be in that direction. "Probably," Roy agreed, "I'll fuck `em if I gets the chance; but this is different, special somehow; especially here." "Probably why there's no birds in the trees," David grinned. "Yeh," Roy said softly, and without knowing why, added, "This is a place for cock." He reached out for his briefs and jeans, found them and stood to replace them on his sun dappled body. "See you here tomorrow?" he asked. "If it's not raining." "An' you can do all that other stuff an' then fuck me." "Big thing, Roy, being fucked." "Big thing gonna fuck me," Roy grinned; "But suck me off first an' eat me spunk." "Evert drop you can produce," David whispered, "Every single drop that beautiful cock can produce." "Deal," Roy sniggered, "Days I come here I won't wank, so there's loads for you." "Deal," David echoed. "Praps I should always come here when I need a wank," Roy said softly, "It's a place for wankin'." "It is," David agreed, "I even come down here to wank in the cold and rain, spunk on the grass. Don't know why." Man and boy left the circle of hazel trees together, the boy's head hardly reaching the shoulder he leaned it against. Deep below the grass two roughly carved stone figures, one larger by a crude head than the other, but each with a rampant, outsize phallus, settled back into their earth bed, blanketed by the intertwined roots of the hazels above. They would wait till they were needed once more, be that in a day's time or a century's -- time has no meaning for a carved piece of stone. Hope you enjoyed it, joshcock@hotmail.com