Diary of a Shota Boy - Part 17

by

Cosmo

Part 17: The Danes

After being questioned by the UNHCR guy, Jens escorted us into the medical room to see the doctor. The medical room was in another part of the building, towards the back of the house, away from the bustle of the lobby. There was a small anteroom where Jens left Simon-Peter and I to wait. Then an orderly, wearing camouflage battledress, came out of the inner office and asked us to strip down to our underwear. We took our clothes off with a minimum of fuss, laying them all in an irregular pile, and sat on the chairs and waited. As we waited, Simon-Peter sat nervously swinging his legs back and forth under the chair. He looked so cute, sitting there in his tiny Ben 10 boxer briefs, his tight, smooth, hairless little body, so warm and lithe. I don't think I had ever been so turned on by a boy so small. I was horning up for the little guy. Tell the truth, I could have fucked him there and then. Suddenly, Simon-Peter giggled and his flat little tummy tensed as he inhaled. He looked over at me with a mischievous grin, smiling cutely, and at that moment I knew that he could tell exactly what I was thinking. I smiled back and then he did something which I thought was disarmingly insightful and mature.

'Later,' he said, 'You can do it to me again.'

And I knew that he was remembering our feverish fucking from last night when I had busted his little cherry. The memory of it made my little cock stiffen, especially recalling the ecstasy of rooting his tight little cunt, stabbing my little fuckstick up his virgin boychute and depositing my kidspunk deep inside his narrow little pelvis. I wanted to repeat that beautiful memory. I wanted to do it to him again and again. It was like my cock needed him. Oh fuck, I was so horny I had to squeeze my little dick to relieve the aching stiffness, and it sent a delicious jolt of pleasure right through me, radiating right from the depths of my crotch where my little cock was anchored to my balls. It was like a mini orgasm.

At that moment the orderly came in and said he was going to do some routine tests. First he had us stand against the bare wall and took photos with a digital camera. Then he had us place our heads on a little device which shone a beam into the back of our eyes. He said it was to take a scan of our retinas. Those retinal images could be used to identify us. But he also took fingerprints, by rolling our fingers on an inky pad and pressing the tips of our fingers onto a special paper. Finally, he took blood samples. That was the bit Simon-Peter didn't like, and although he didn't protest, I saw his pretty eyes welling up with tears as the needle was inserted into his thin little arm. He said nothing, but you could tell it had hurt him. He tried to hide his tears, and stifled his cries, and my heart just melted for him. He was such a brave little guy. Finally, the orderly wanted to take DNA samples, using a cotton swab on the inside of our mouths. He did just about every available test and took every sample he could. As we sat back down and waited for the doctor, my horny little shota boy mind wondered why the orderly hadn't asked for a sperm sample too. He had taken samples of just about everything else, and that was the one thing I would most gladly have given him. I giggled to myself as we sat there. Simon-Peter smiled complicitly. He knew I was thinking something sexy and dirty. But then, Simon-Peter always did.

Finally, the orderly called us in to see the doctor. Strangely, we were allowed to go in together. The doctor's office had a large desk pushed against the wall, and the doctor was sat on a very low swivel chair. I could see why it was so low, because he seemed to maneuver around the poky little office by wheeling himself around on the chair. The doctor was a mature, gray-haired guy with a long white coat. The doctor was very quiet and unforthcoming and spoke very little, but he had very warm hands, and he fingered and prodded us gently. He had us sit side by side on the high bed, and looked into our mouths to inspect our tongues. Then he shone a little flashlight into our eyes. He pressed a stethoscope onto our chests and listened to our heartbeats. It induced a tiny shock as the cool steel of the stethoscope pressed into my warm skin. Next, he inspected our heads, parting our unkempt hair with a fine-toothed comb. I quite enjoyed that, especially when he was combing the hair on the back of my neck, combing it upwards and fanning the roots of my shaggy blond mop. I guess he was looking for lice. Then he had us hop down off the bed one at a time and lowered the front of our underwear to fondle our little dicks and balls. He even jacked mine, very briefly, retracting the skin between the tips of his fingers, and I remember feeling disappointed that he didn't continue. I wanted him to tighten his fist around it and jack it real hard for me. But he didn't. He tucked my semi-stiff little dick back into my boxer-briefs and let the elastic snap back into place. He did look momentarily into my eyes as he turned back to his desk to write some notes. 'Nothing wrong with YOUR equipment,' it seemed to say, which sent a delightful little sliver of self-satisfaction right through me.

As we were getting dressed, Jens came back to get us. He entered the anteroom just as I was throwing my shirt on, and I thought I saw an approving smile as he caught a glimpse of my body for the second time that day. By this time I suspected Jens probably appreciated a pretty little fuckboy like me. At any rate, I hoped he did. I was very drawn to him.

'Bad news,' he announced, keeping the conversation focused, 'There's no transportation to the refugee station until tomorrow.'

Simon-Peter looked at me with a concerned frown. This was all so disorientating for him.

'It's getting late,' Jens continued, 'And we can't risk travelling after dark. Looks like you'll be spending the night here.'

Simon-Peter looked disappointed.

'Aww,' he grumbled.

'It's okay little one,' I reassured him, stroking his head tenderly, 'they'll look after us.'

Jens smiled.

'You ARE like brothers,' he remarked, turning to me, 'You really care don't you?'

I was very flattered by his observation. I put a comforting arm around Simon-Peter as Jens led us out of the doctor's office and back down the busy corridor. I smiled affirmatively. 'Yeah,' I thought to myself, 'I do care about this little boy. I care about him a lot.'

'What's going to happen now?' I asked Jens, as we walked.

'You'll spend the night here. You can get cleaned up and have something to eat. Then in the morning we'll drive you over to Kolina.'

I shrugged resignedly, distinctly unimpressed. Jens saw my expression and laughed.

'Oh, it's not as bad as all that,' he said, with an upbeat tone, 'This is the Danish Sector. It could have been a lot worse. You might have ended up in the Polish or French Sector.'

Jens carried on laughing. His comment indicated that there was a friendly rivalry between the various contingencies of VFOR. He explained that Verolino had been divided into three sectors, each one administered by a different VFOR constituent. This had all been at the behest of the UN, who had passed the peacekeeping role in Verolino from the now defunct UNVERO to this special coalition assembled from amongst the NATO allies. The overall VFOR mission was being overseen by the Americans, with a view to minimizing the conflict, to secure a ceasefire and seek a more permanent solution.

Resigned to staying at Sector HQ for the night, Jens took us to a room on the upper floors of this enormous house. It was a nice bedroom, with twin beds, and long, heavy drapes over the windows. It was very comfortable, and a definite improvement on the bombed-out office building we had slept in the previous night. There was an ensuite bathroom, and I helped Simon-Peter to shower. I briefly considered showering with him, but thought the better of it. I was so horny I don't think we would have got much showering done. Afterwards, they brought us up some dinner on a tray which we ate in our room.

Finally, freshly washed and with his tummy full, Simon-Peter climbed onto the bed, ready for sleep. Simon-Peter didn't like being left alone, so I laid down next to him. It was so hot, we didn't bother to get under the covers. We just laid on top of the bed naked, propped up on the pillows, and he rested his little head in my armpit. Barely a moment had passed before I turned and looked down at him.

'Okay little one?'

No answer.

I saw that his eyes were gently closed and he was already asleep. He was so exhausted he must have fallen asleep almost as soon as his little head hit the pillow. I was mildly disappointed. I wasn't going to get to fuck him tonight after all. I didn't really mind. It had been a long, tiring and disorienting day for him, and I just watched him for a little while as he slept.

I got up and left Simon-Peter to sleep. I gently pulled the sheet over him. He let out a little moan in his sleep. It was so hot that he kicked the covers off, even as he slept, and his naked little body just sprawled there unconscious, one knee out to the side, his head turned the other way, and one arm up with a hand resting on the pillow. It was so cute. I laid down on the other bed and looked over at him. I enjoyed watching him sleep, and I liked the way his little chest rose and fell with each inaudible breath. His limp little todger nestled in his hairless crotch like a shriveled little slug. He was so beautiful, and I was so horny, I had thought to climb into his bed and just use his little body, even with him asleep. I could probably spunk him without even waking him up. I was pretty horned up by the idea of squirting my kidspunk onto him while he slept. There was nothing I enjoyed more than seeing his baby-soft skin glistening with droplets of my kiddiesperm. What turned me on more than that was the idea that Simon-Peter liked it. A couple of times he had woken up in the morning and seen the thin film of powdery little stains that had dried on his skin, and he had thought it quite exciting that I had done that in his sleep. He loved stuff like that. Simon-Peter was such a dirty, horny little tyke.

Whilst Simon-Peter slept, I suddenly realized that this was the first moment I had had to reflect on the events of the day. I too was exhausted, but I really couldn't sleep. So I laid on my bed in this strange room, in this strange place, still not quite sure what was going to happen to us, and I just pondered the concept that Ciggy might be dead. It was quite a strange sentiment that I was grappling with. I wasn't exactly shocked by the news about that transporter being shot down. Just saddened and disappointed. Saddened that Ciggy might have been aboard that aircraft and disappointed that our plans hadn't worked out. The future Ciggy had assured for us both, and which was only possible with his intervention, might be gone forever, never to be realized. And yet, I didn't quite believe it. Ciggy couldn't be dead. Not the clever, wily, resourceful young mercenary who had everything worked out. Not the beautiful, handsome, sexy young man who was kind and gentle and considerate. It just wasn't possible. I remember thinking, if it was true, then it was quite ironic. Ironic that Ciggy was the only guy I ever truly felt something for, and yet he was the only one I would never have the pleasure of fucking. For such an experienced and prolific little fuckboy like me, that had to be the ultimate irony. Somehow I just couldn't get used to the idea. I don't know why, but somewhere, deep down, I still believed Ciggy was alive.

As I laid on my bed naked, with all these thoughts running through my mind, I realized my little dick was poking up long and stiff in my crotch. I really felt like jacking it. I was so horny. I had been horned up for most of the day. It was one of those days where everything seemed to induce an erection. I couldn't even pinpoint what had triggered it this time, whether it was Simon-Peter, or thoughts of Ciggy, or just the fact that I was a horny little fuckboy who needed sex all the time, and who had a dick that was in the habit of constantly clamoring for attention. Little Cloud never liked to be neglected for too long.

I started thinking about Jens, the friendly Danish sergeant who had brought us in and had been our escort in the house. He had been so kind and considerate to us, and I liked him. I had a feeling he liked me too. I really wanted to just hang out with him. I was lonely and horny. Simon-Peter was asleep and I badly needed the company of an older guy. Sometimes we fuckboys just felt the need to be around older guys, I guess in the same way they craved the company of younger boys. It was a very symbiotic relationship. So I decided to go and seek out the soldiers. I know Jens had warned me to stay in my room, but my little dick was inordinately stiff with horniness and I needed to feel it spunking with a big adult dick rooting me hard up my little cunt, sticking it to me roughly, fucking the spunk out of me. A lot of boys couldn't do that - spunk from having their cunt rooted - but I could. I was one of the lucky ones. If I had my little button stroked in just the right way, or pummeled hard through the sides of my chute, I could have a good hard cum without even touching my little dick. Fuck, I wanted the spunk fucked out of me real bad. My little dick was so hard in my pants it was hurting with stiffness. Little Cloud was so engorged it was actually painful.

I pulled on my jeans - no underwear - and slipped on a shirt, without bothering to button it up. Then I silently unlatched the door and I crept out of our room barefoot. It was late and the house was quiet, so I padded softly down the big staircase to the lower parts of the house where I knew the Danish soldiers hung out. One wing of the house was given over to their living quarters, and they were billeted in bunks of twos or threes in the various rooms that led off the corridor that ran the entire length of that wing. It was only accessible from the central lobby, so I paused at the bottom of the stairs, sneaking past the guy sitting at the computer at the far end of the lobby, by the entrance. He was too busy staring into the computer screen to even notice me. I followed the long passageway, with my bare feet padding silently on the dusty wooden floor. There was an open door at the end which opened into a large room where the lights were turned down very low. A flickering glow was emanating. There were lots of male voices, chatting and laughing. It sounded like the soldiers were socializing and generally having fun, exchanging witticisms and sharing the laughter. I sidled up to the open doorway and stood on the threshold looking in. There was a sofa and various armchairs around about where the soldiers had made themselves at home. There was a large flat-screen TV burbling away in the background, which is where the flickering glow was coming from. I guessed this was the soldiers' mess room. At the back of the room, by a big high window, there was a well-lit pool table and there were four soldiers circling it with their cues, chatting and taking pot shots in a very laissez faire kind of way. Others were variously reading, smoking or playing cards. Nearly all of them were drinking bottles of beer. It was so hot that some had their camouflage jackets unbuttoned and hanging open, or were simply lounging around shirtless, their little metal dog tags strung about their necks on ball-chains. They were all very young and handsome, and a fair number of them were blonds. Oh fuck, so many erotic delights on offer, it was like stumbling across an Aladdin's cave of sexual spoils.

One of the soldiers on the sofa nearest the door lowered his newspaper, having spotted me, and said something in Danish to the others. They all looked around, but hardly batted an eyelid. They saw me, but didn't really stop what they were doing. The soldier on the sofa uttered a further remark in Danish, to which they all laughed, then he reverted back to me and spoke to me in English.

'Looking for something, young man?'

This was the first moment that I realized that these Danish soldiers all spoke English as well as Danish, and they seemed to be able to switch from one to the other with consummate ease. I wondered if English was perhaps a second language in Denmark.

'You could say that,' I replied cryptically, furtively grabbing my stiffie through my pants at the same time. I didn't even realize I was doing it.

He laughed. They always seemed to find me funny.

'Is Jens here?' I asked, timidly.

'Hey Jens!' he called out, 'You got a visitor!'

Jens appeared from another doorway at the far end of the room, shirtless and with his hair wet. He was ruffling his head with a towel, clearly having just stepped out of the shower. When he spotted me, he broke into a smile and didn't seem fazed in the least.

'Hey pretty boy!' he called out.

He actually seemed pleased to see me.

He beckoned me over, waving me towards him, so that I had to walk the entire length of the room to get to him. The other soldiers were so laid back and mellow, they just smiled benevolently. One winked at me, and one at the pool table said something lewd in Danish. I could tell it was some kind of smutty remark because they all laughed. I didn't mind. The most important thing was that they seemed to have no objection to me being there.

'Hi pretty boy,' Jens said, warmly, 'Come to see where we hang out?'

I nodded, pleased that he was so receptive and comfortable about me being there.

'Couldn't sleep,' I replied, smiling precociously.

He laughed, either unconvinced or unconcerned. At any rate he seemed quite relaxed about it.

For the first time I got a good look at Jens. Without his helmet, I had an unimpeded view of his face and head. His hair was cut fairly short. It was quite fine and wispy in texture and was a beautiful shade of ash blond. It was still damp and was sticking up in uneven little spikes where he had ruffled it with the towel. He had quite a smooth, brave looking face, with a high forehead and slightly pouting cheeks, which gave him a kind of moody, smoldering expression. His eyes were a bright, inviting shade of azure blue. He was extremely handsome. He was wearing only his battledress pants and was barefoot and shirtless. I had been right about him - he kept in good shape. He had a very attractive physique, with such perfect musculature that he could easily have passed for a catwalk model. He wasn't overly muscly, but his body had a lovely taut smoothness to it, and such good definition that he just exuded sex appeal. He was very slim, with a big chest and broad shoulders and a shallow groove at the center of his powerful chest which ran all the way down to his ridged stomach. Below his navel, there was a thin line of lightly-colored hair which disappeared tantalizingly under the waistband of his battledress pants. He was simply beautiful - a perfect specimen of maleness.

'Wanna beer?' Jens asked, proffering a bottle with the cap already levered off.

'Okay,' I said, rather too readily.

I didn't really like beer, but I could tolerate it just to be sociable. What I liked was that Jens thrust the cold beer into my hand, then got another one for himself, then he put a very fatherly and affectionate arm around my shoulders and steered me over to the sofa. He kicked another soldier out of the way, so that he had to move his feet to make room for us. Jens sat down, and he practically pulled me onto the sofa next to him, with his strong arm still across my shoulders. I was already feeling at ease and welcomed his attention. He seemed so down to earth and relaxed.

'Everyone, this is Cloud,' he announced, and you could detect a hint of pride in his voice as he said it.

The others all halfheartedly nodded and murmured their greetings. I was amazed that they were all so relaxed about me being there and didn't seem in the least objecting to Jens being so affectionate. I liked these Danes. They were apparently not averse to what Jens was doing. Maybe they were all into boy ass as well. Maybe these Danes were all casual boyfuckers at heart. They were so inclusive, so friendly, so open. Oh fuck, it was like stumbling upon a little vault of paradise.

As Jens and I drank our beers, I watched another of the soldiers come and sit cross-legged on the floor by the sofa. It was Emil, the soldier that had found us and had brought us in with Jens that morning. He had very light brown hair that was shorn quite closely, almost a crew-cut, giving it a velvety texture. I felt like I wanted to run my palm over it. He had very classic Nordic features. He was also very handsome, with pink, ruddy cheeks and piercing green eyes. Emil reached over and offered an ashtray with a smoldering joint tipped up on the edge.

'Want some joint?' he asked.

I realized he was offering it to me. I looked at Jens, to seek guidance, but he seemed content to let me do whatever I wanted, so I took it. I leaned back on the sofa with the ashtray on my lap and took a couple of tokes.

'That's it pretty boy,' said Jens, 'anything goes around here.'

I took that to mean that I had free reign to do whatever I liked. I was only a very occasional smoker, so as I inhaled, the smoke tickled my lungs, causing me to cough. Jens didn't seem to notice. As soon as the smoke reached my brain, I was momentarily dizzy, and my whole body was infused by a warm mellowness that made me want to melt into Jens's embrace. I turned towards him and laid my head on his smooth, powerful chest. He was fresh out of the shower, clean and warm, and his skin smelled of sweet, mildly scented pine. I breathed in his aroma and he dipped his head and kissed the top of my head. Jens gently wrested the fragile little stub of the joint from between my fingers and took a couple of drags himself, puffing his cheeks and blowing streams of bluish smoke straight up into the air. For a few moments we just sat there enjoying the calming, relaxing effects of the joint, and we both smiled at each other, acknowledging the fact that we were feeling good.

I sipped my beer and looked around the room as I sat contentedly next to Jens. To one side of the room they had a long table with snacks laid out. It appeared to be a type of buffet, with lots of slices of dark bread piled high with various toppings. I figured it must be something quintessentially Danish. It was very colorful. They had demolished most of it, and left behind a trail of scraps they had dropped all over the table. But there were still a few of these little morsels left untouched and they looked infinitely more edifying than what Simon-Peter and I had had for dinner - some kind of insipid stew with a thin gravy that had hardly any meat in it. Jens saw me looking at the little spread of goodies and he spoke to one of his colleagues who happily put a few random slices onto a plate and passed it to him. Jens took one of the toppings and stuffed it into my mouth.

'Here, have a piece of Danish sausage,' he said, pressing it between my lips.

The others all laughed. They were always laughing. These Danes had an excellent sense of humor. Or perhaps they were just all stoned. It was difficult to tell. I chewed gratefully, swallowing Jens's offering without hesitation. It was delicious. No sooner had I swallowed it, Jens offered me another piece. He was feeding me. For some reason I was very touched by that. It was a very affectionate and even erotic gesture, with overt sexual overtones. I was flattered and aroused by it at the same time.

Suddenly, I felt such deep affection for this handsome Danish soldier that I instinctively turned and put my arms around him, even as he sat there, so that I was almost thrown across him. He reciprocated this act of affection by pulling me onto his lap. He was so strong that he was able to lift my whole body with apparent ease. He dug his hand under my knees and hauled me across him, placing me sideways on his lap, so that my butt was resting directly on his crotch. He held me tightly. That was more comfortable. I could feel his muscled chest against me and I enjoyed his proximity, basking in his attention. Feeling happy and secure, I tilted my head back and he kissed me on the lips. It was exquisite. I knew then that this was what we both wanted.

I decided to relax and enjoy the attention Jens was giving me. As soon as I laid back against Jens's chest, he nuzzled against my cheek. I could feel the faint roughness of the stubbly little bristles of his beard against my face. He gave me a sidelong kiss on the corner of my lips. I could smell the beer on his breath. Under my butt, his cock was hardening. This young Danish soldier was inordinately into me, and he ran one hand over my body where my unfastened shirt had fallen open. His warm palm was stroking my chest and tummy, feeling me up all over, running his big hand over my diminutive shoulders and under my arms, where it tickled slightly. He was squeezing my underdeveloped pecs and even pinching my nipples. I squirmed in his lap every time he did that. At this point I had no doubt, Jens knew exactly what he was doing.

When Jens's hand went straight to my crotch, I melted with pleasure. He didn't even look for my stiffie, it was like he knew it was there and homed in on the exact spot. He felt the ridge of my hard little dick, trapped awkwardly up against my abdomen, and he traced his fingertips up and down the underside of it, stroking it gently through my pants. I could tell that it was the touch of an experienced boyfucker, and at that moment I knew that my objective had been realized. I felt something like a scientist on the verge of some earth-shattering discovery. Good sex was in the offing and these handsome Danish soldiers were going to assure my evening. I wanted to get naked with them. I wanted to suck and fuck with them. I wanted their big adults dicks all over me, pumping my little snatch full of jizz and spraying their hot, creamy loads over my naked little body. Fuck, I was so horny.

Some of the other soldiers came and sat down around the sofa, finally wanting to be a part of what was going on, and they variously settled cross-legged or stretched out on the floor in front of the TV. Emil took out some paraphernalia to roll another joint with. I sipped my beer and just watched them. Then Jens whispered into my ear.

'You're so pretty,' he was saying, as he continued stroking me and feeling me up.

I absorbed his compliments with a self-satisfied smirk, still sitting in his lap, staring straight ahead. I had the feeling it was something he had been anxious to tell me all day.

'Bet you have a beautiful cock,' he went on, cruelly squeezing my dick through my pants as he said it.

I nodded. It felt so good.

'Wanna show me your pretty little cock?'

I nodded.

Jens unzipped my flies and dug his fingers into my pants. He hesitated when he detected that I had no underwear on, and he knew immediately that it was for his benefit. Then he wrapped his big fingers around my throbbing little cock and I melted in his embrace.

'You wanna play with me, pretty boy?' he whispered into my ear, more as an observation than a question.

I nodded.

Then I knew for sure that Jens was an experienced boyfucker. 'Playing' was the shota boy term for fucking around, a familiar fuckboy euphemism for getting down and dirty with an older man.

Jens took my stiffie out, so that it was poking up through the opening in my pants, a naked little column of little boy fuckstick almost drowning in the folds of my jeans. It was heavenly to have Jens holding it in his fingers. He inspected my stiffie quite close, even retracting the foreskin and running his fingers under the rim of my little cockhead, stimulating the most sensitive part of my dick. It was all shiny, greasy with precum, which he rubbed between his fingers.

It was funny, that when Jens took my stiffie out, it looked so small in his big hand. When I had fucked Simon-Peter the other day, my cock had looked so big stuffed into his tiny little cunt, so much so that his pucker looked obscenely stretched around my boycock. But now, in Jens's big hands, my little hairless cock looked just like a little kid's cock.

Jens looked at me with a smile.

'What a beautiful cock you have,' he said.

Jens, like me, knew the true value of paying your little playmates a compliment or two. I was so flattered. Yes, it WAS a nice cock, and it was always so delightful whenever another guy acknowledged it like that.

'Mind if I suck it?' he asked.

'Mind?' I said, humorously, 'I insist.'

He laughed. I was starting to get the hang of their humor. And with that, he bent down and buried his face in my lap, and I felt the heavenly sensation of my little dick being enveloped into his warm, wet mouth, tightly gripped between his tongue and the roof his mouth and he sucked hard. I squealed loudly, not expecting it to hurt so good. I could see the other soldiers in the room cast cursory glances. One of them licked his lips as though relishing the spectacle, but otherwise pretty much carried on with what they were doing. The joint carried on circulating. The strange thing was, no one seemed to mind. Maybe this Jens even had a reputation. Whatever, they seemed to be enjoying the show.

'Cloud?' said Jens, quietly.

'Hmm?' I replied, still in the throes of ecstasy with my little dick in his mouth.

'Get naked for me?' Jens asked, 'I wanna see your body.'

So I did. I hopped up off his lap and put my beer aside and hurriedly ripped off my clothes, even in front of all the other soldiers, and carelessly threw them aside. All I had on was my unbuttoned shirt and jeans, so within seconds I was completely devoid of attire, stripped and standing before them with my stiffie sticking out, waggling eagerly before me. This time they did actually stop what they were doing to watch. I liked that. I was in my element - the center of attention - and once again it made me inordinately horny to have all these eager eyes on me. I hoped that I had made all their big mansize dicks as stiff as iron in their pants. There was a chorus of approving noises, whistles and claps.

'Wow!' they exclaimed, clearly impressed.

'See,' said Jens, 'pretty AND horny.'

'Bet the kid fucks good,' someone called out.

'I can spunk too,' I added, just for good measure.

'You give good head, eh kid?' one called out.

'Yeah, you swallow the evidence?' another shouted.

'How about two cocks at a time?' yet another asked.

I puffed out my chest and gave them a precocious grin.

'I can take you all!' I replied, with a playful sneer.

They all laughed loudly.

'I LOVE this kid!' someone else exclaimed.

Jens leaned over, still sitting on the sofa, and grabbed me from behind. He put his big hands on my hips and pulled me closer to him, planting kisses all the way up my back. He reached around and jacked my little dick as he did so. I melted backwards onto him and his big warm hands stroked my arms and shoulders. I threw my head back and closed my eyes in ecstasy. His lips sent wonderful tingles all the way down my spine. My little dick waggled about uncontrollably in my crotch, stiffly straining upwards with the pleasure. I could see all the other soldiers in the room casting approving and maybe even envious glances at me. I enjoyed their attention.

I couldn't wait. I needed Jens's cock. I wanted to get it out so that I could play with it. I turned and got down on my knees, and reached for his flies. Clearly I had caught him unawares because he looked confused for a moment. I unzipped his flies and dug my hand in. He leaned back, finally acquiescing to my intentions. His cock was hard and substantial in his crotch. I had trouble lifting the stiff rod through the gap in his pants. I fumbled a bit, my little fingers grasping the turgid organ gingerly, and I levered it out. Oh fuck, it was exquisite - hot and hard, with a beautiful tapered head peeking through a neat covering of taut foreskin. I lowered my head and wrapped my lips around it, retracting the skin gently with my teeth, and Jens trembled as my little lips grazed the sensitive head. He had a neat little patch of blond pubes and his crotch smelled clean and fresh. I opened my jaw to maximum aperture, so that my lips were stretched painfully around its girth. I could hear the other soldiers gasping in awe. Then I lowered my head, buried his cock right into the back of my throat and sucked hard. Jens thrust his butt up off the sofa as I did it, unable to resist the temptation to fuck it into me, holding my head down as he did it, so that his spongy cockhead actually stabbed into the back of my throat. Tell the truth it made me gag a little, but I liked it.

'Hey Jens, go easy on the kid,' someone else called over, clearly having witnessed what we were doing.

'Yeah, don't drown the boy,' someone else called out.

They all let out an unrestrained chorus of laughter, guffawing loudly.

'Watch out Cloud,' another called out to me, 'Y'know what Jens's nickname is?'

I looked around enquiringly, twisting my head while still impaled on Jens's massive dick.

'Supersoaker,' he announced.

Everyone laughed. Supersoaker? Oh fuck, I really wanted to see that! I started manipulating that enormous organ, giving it all the attention I could, wrapping my little fingers around it as I bobbed my head up and down, licking the head while my hands massaged the shaft. I wanted to make him cum. I wanted to see this oversized appendage give up its load for me. I was already naked and I wanted it to cover my little shota boy body in scalding hot spunk.

I sensed the other soldiers quieting down as I concentrated on giving Jens a blowjob, and they seemed to be appreciating the spectacle. Jens was seated right back on the sofa, his legs open, and was stroking my head as I knelt before him, performing on his cock. Then I felt someone else brush up against my butt. He was naked too. I felt a hot, hard dick being rubbed over my butt cheeks and another soldier whispered into my ear.

'Can I join in, pretty boy?'

It was Emil. He had obviously shed his clothes and was so horned up by the proceedings that he wanted some of me too. I liked the fact that they were flattering me with their 'pretty boy' moniker. I liked that they were all so considerate and polite. They always asked my permission before doing anything. It showed they respected me as a fuckboy, which was something of a departure from the type of treatment I was afforded at The Saxon Club, where the general perception was that fuckboys commanded very little respect and were only there to be abused. I stopped sucking Jens's dick for a moment to look behind. Emil looked fantastic naked - so smooth and tight. He was so handsome. He had incredibly long, shapely legs. His dick was also long. Not as big as Jens, but technically perfect, very straight, with beautiful proportions. I wanted it up me. I figured it would be nice to have him rooting that gorgeous fuckstick deep into my little cunt while I concentrated on bringing off Jens. As he waited for my answer, he rubbed his cockhead on the curve of my ass, smearing precum over my butt cheek.

'Fuck me,' I pleaded, dispensing with any preliminaries, 'Make it slide in.'

My words seemed to ratchet up the anticipation, and there was this look on Emil's face like he couldn't quite believe this pretty, horny little shota boy was kneeling there before him, waiting - begging - to be fucked.

Breaking off my blowjob for a moment, I twisted around and reached back to center Emil's dick against my star. I adjusted my knees to be at the right height, and I stuck my butt out tantalizingly. He scooted forward, his dick in my clutches, and he held his dick just at the entrance to my hole. He was gently caressing my tight little balls, tickling my little ring, but not attempting to enter me. We both looked at his beautiful dick, then his gaze moved on up to meet mine and I think he saw the need in my expression, which was solemn and flushed. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. He waited, and I knew he was savoring this beautiful moment, trying to appreciate the utter pleasure that my little cunt promised. But he waited too long. To me, those moments of hesitation were sweet torture.

Finally, Emil screwed up his face, mustering his strength, and thrust forward with a single, nasty stab. In one swift motion, his dick sank into me, stabbing my little pucker wide open, and invading my hot little cunt with thick, blood-engorged cockmeat. I moaned loudly, not from pain or pleasure, but sheer relief. In a few more thrusts, his dick was fully inserted into my hungry and eager little snatch, stabbing my hole with his stiffness, stretching my cunt to the limit with its girth, filling my narrow pelvis with his substantial cock. I was impaled on him, helpless to his thrusting, incapacitated by the way he docked his organ into me, with such seamless expertise. Yeah, Emil was an expert boyfucker, and he started thrusting into me pneumatically, relentlessly rooting deep into my little cunt, in pursuit of the ultimate reward: to fill me up with his essence, to inject his eager adult jizz deep into my immature little boycunt, and drench my young hole with his misappropriated fuckwad. I wanted it too. I wanted to feel his hot fuckjuice inside me, warming that magic spot deep inside my chute, accepting his gift into my most intimate place, and rewarding his dick with the ultimate thrill of bursting open inside my veteran little shota boy pleasure box.

As I assimilated the utter pleasure of having these two Danish soldiers to fuck around with, complete with an admiring audience, it was almost like being back at The Saxon Club again. It was reminiscent of the sessions we used to have in the backrooms at the Club, where the clients could pretty much do as they wanted. It was the same kind of libertarian permissiveness where I would service multiple clients, sometimes performing with another shota boy. I couldn't help thinking, as I lowered my lips around Jens's cock once again, that it was just like old times.

As Emil fucked me, I focused on making Jens cum. It was about time one of us shot our wad, and I really wanted to see one of these sexy Danish soldiers give up his load for me. I went to town on Jens, jacking and sucking his enormous dick with all my shota boy expertise, and I eventually had him hyperventilating with the anticipation. His cock was hardening and he was unable to stop himself thrusting up into my mouth.

'That's damn good, pretty boy,' he was saying, his gaze fixed on watching me suck him off, 'Don't stop. You're gonna get a nice reward.'

Jens was heading for his bomb run. There was no turning back, and I knew it was just a question of a few more masterful strokes. I lifted my head for a moment, roughly rubbing my cupped palm over his cockhead.

'Spunk me,' I said, and straightened up, still kneeling between his legs.

Jens gave a little smile of disbelief, but nodded. He knew exactly what I wanted - his spunk all over me.

Emil was still fucking me from behind and instinctively adjusted his angle so he could fuck upwards into me as I straightened up. I leaned back against him, and he held onto my hips. I carried on jacking Jens. Jens widened his eyes and reached out, stroking my chest and tummy, wanting to feel the young body he was about to cover in spunk, the smooth young skin he was about to soil with his steaming hot seed. With a few more hard yanks in my little fist, Jens finally let go. When he cummed, Jens moaned loudly, almost taken by surprise by the sheer pleasure of his orgasm. He doubled up, bringing his knees up and tipping forward, but he aimed his dick in exactly the right place as it released his fuckwad with an angry power and intensity. I thrust my chest out, wanting to feel his hot jizz pelting my young skin.

His spunk was copious and wet. It came out in big spatters that were loose and sloppy. There was so much of it, it was almost as though Jens had this endless reserve of fuckjuice, and he must have managed at least ten really powerful squirts before his volley began to wane. I could feel his bombardment drumming against my chest and tummy as he emitted his load. It went everywhere, spraying all over my arms and shoulders. It was clinging in loose gobs from my nose and chin. It must have got Emil, who was still busily stuffing my little cunt even as this was happening. There were greasy little drips and dribbles all over my chest and tummy, even my balls were wet with it. My stiffie was coated, and it was all over the sofa and the carpet. No matter, Jens was panting with the exertion, clearly catching his breath from the pleasure of his achievement.

I hardly had time to assimilate this spectacular display when Emil wrapped his arm around my chest and panted into my ear, still fucking into me from behind. His breath was warm and moist against my cheek.

'I'm gonna fill you up now, okay?' he warned.

I nodded and started meeting his thrusts in sympathy with that aspiration. I took his hand from my hip and put it on my stiffie. I wanted him to make me cum too. My little dick was so horned up, it wasn't going to take much to tip me over the edge. Paradise was only a few strokes away, and with Emil's beautiful dick hammering against my gland, I was afraid I might cum too soon. Luckily, Emil was in complete control, and he was able to judge the moment perfectly. He wrapped his big fist around my dick and jacked it roughly just as he pummeled my chute harder than ever, and with two or three more powerful thrusts, he sent me into orbit. My whole pubic region contracted hard as my orgasm ignited, so that his cock, still buried in my chute, was strangled tightly, and that sent him over the edge too. His dick let go inside of me, filling my little cunt even as it squeezed out my own orgasm. My little stiffie strained and struggled in my crotch squirting my little kiddie load all over Emil's big fist. I was breathless for a few moments, almost lost in the sheer pleasure of it. At the same time, I could feel my little snatch filling up with warm, creamy spunk, pumping me full to bursting, until my chute was overflowing with wet Danish fuckjuice. Oh fuck, it was fantastic.

I moaned when Emil withdrew. There was a tangible sense of disappointment as he left my hole vacant and dilated. My little ring was throbbing painfully from the punishment of his energetic thrusting. Breathless and spent, I fell back against Emil, thoroughly fucked. He held me in a quite loving embrace, so that my naked little body was clasped securely in his strong arms, and I looked down at my saturated skin, with Jens's splatters of creamy white jizz painted across it. Then I looked back up at Jens with a look of astonishment.

'Wish I could do that,' I said, enviously.

Jens and Emil both laughed loudly, then Jens leaned over so that I was squeezed between them. They both kissed me. My head turned from one to the other, stealing little kisses from each of them, a grateful little fuckboy sandwiched between these two handsome Danish soldiers. It was heavenly. The heady aroma of spent mansperm wafted off my saturated skin. My little fuckstick, still sticking up redundantly, was wet with my own meager offering. With Jens's copious jizz all over me and Emil's inside of me, finally I was satisfied.

'Shit,' said Jens, with a tone of disbelief, 'You're damn good, pretty boy.'

I smiled smugly, his thick gobs of fuckjuice still glued to my face.

'Yeah, I am,' I replied arrogantly, 'and don't you forget it.'

To which they all burst out laughing.

* * * * * *