Fellowship of the Schoolboy Ring 7

WARNING: This story – a fictional one - contains sex between a minor and an adult. Do not read the contents if it will offend you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town, city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.

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Fellowship of the Schoolboy Ring.

By John Teller.

Part seven.

Alan Parnell speaks.

The bus is ten minutes late. Brice will be getting worried. He always does when you're late. But you like being late. He hugs you that little bit harder; his kiss is that little bit more passionate when you're late. That's because he loves you so much and has been worried that no harm has come to you while you were on the way over. You smile when you see the now familiar entrance to the drive that leads up to your new house.

******************

He took you to see it before he bought it. Wanted to know what you thought of it. It was empty. He had a key. He took you in the TT, pulling into the driveway that was embraced by variegated laurels each side of the long drive and past two large copper beech trees that grow in the long front garden. Detached. No neighbours. Well, there are neighbours, but because the house is mature and so are the gardens, the house is quite private. Set in its own grounds, and the empty rooms echoed to your laughter as you explored it. Then he made you sort of angry when he refused to have sex in the bedroom you both decided was to be the main one. You sulked for twenty minutes, and then joined in the fun of more exploration. But you got your revenge later when you told him you didn't want the new house because it would mean you wouldn't be able to see him at the bus stop before you got on the school bus. He thought you were serious until you couldn't help but laugh at the face he pulled, and then he grabbed you and pretended to beat you. Then you kissed, and you got your own way - as you usually do - when the kiss became passionate and he couldn't resist your body. Well, not when you undid your jeans and pushed them and your underpants down. It was just his mouth suckling on you until he gave you your reward. But it was enough to last you until you got back home. Boyish fervour, he calls it. You call it boy sex. He likes that. You only need to tell him that you need boy sex and you can get him to do anything you want... with cream... for both of you. You adore his cream as much as he loves yours, and now you're almost thirteen, it's thicker now than it was when you first met, and more plentiful, especially after an enforced absence.

******************

You crunch your way up the gravel drive, use the side door to go in, and grin at him when he looks up at you from the dining table in the kitchen. He looks at his watch. "You're ten minutes late again!"

"You missed me?"

He grins. "Not really. The chicken pie is in the oven. Are you hungry?"

"Starving. But I was hoping we might do stuff before we ate?"

"Boy fervour?"

You grin. "Boy sex. It's been a week. I can't eat until we've done stuff. I've been thinking about it all the way here on the bus. Just a quick one, pleeeeease! On the sofa and then we can eat. It won't take five minutes."

He grins. "I know your five minutes. Especially after you haven't been here for a week."

You go to him and wrap your arms around his neck, stare into his beautiful eyes, and plead, "Don't be rotten! You know I won't enjoy dinner unless I can settle down properly. Have a feel. It won't go down." His hands slide up your thighs and settle on your hardness, and you shudder at the pleasure of your lover's hands on you at last. A week is a long time for a boy who loves having sex with the sexiest man in the world; the man who can take you to great heights of passion that leave you drained and so satisfied that you always collapse into him afterwards to enjoy the other part of what you are: the loving side, which is almost as important as the sexual side of what you are as a couple. But that won't happen after this first time. Afterwards, you'll have chicken pie and chips and gravy.

He gets up and switches the oven off. "Upstairs."

You tease him. "Not the sofa?"

He grabs your hand and pulls you to the door. "The sofa is no good for what I've got in mind."

******************

Nails scratching down your back; kisses on your neck; then teeth; then more kisses, on your shoulders and down to your swollen nipples. After almost a year, he knows every part of you that will leave you helpless to do as he will, to do what you need; to give you both the supreme pleasure you desire. Almost a year of you being his boy, and him being your man; almost a year of exploration and discovery: man and boy discovering each other within the passions of the deep love you share.

*******************

It's not all been plain sailing. You almost finished with him when you realised that dad can't accept what's happening. Yes, they sort of sorted it out when dad went to see Brice, but that was for you. But it's not all about you. Your affair with Brice is difficult in so many ways. You've even had to learn how to tell lies, and that's something you hate doing. Not to dad. You never tell lies to dad. But neither do you tell him the whole truth. How can you? You can't tell him that his little boy loves to be fucked and that the sensations of feeling full of your man's cock are amongst your greatest sexual pleasures. You can't tell him that your man's spunk is like nectar to you, and that you have wet dreams about both perverted acts. He knows you're gay, but that's it. Very probably, if he knew everything, it would make him vomit, especially the part of you that likes to be dominated. Your small body is perfect for domination to a big man like Brice. But that part is still difficult. Getting Brice to dominate you when all he wants to do is love you is difficult. And you're still only halfway to getting what you want. Some of your deepest fantasies of being taken are still off limits. Maybe they will happen one day; maybe they won't, but at least you have plenty of time. It's still less than a year. When you're a little older, then maybe you can get Brice to understand you completely. Until then you'll have to continue telling him lies when he asks if you're completely satisfied. Well, that's unfair. You are satisfied when you've done stuff. It's just some of the extreme fantasies you have in your head that aren't, but everybody must have those. Probably Brice has them as well, but there's only so much of yourself you can let out to others, even to the person you go to bed with as often as you can.

But there is one side of what you are that is fully satisfied. Your love for Brice has never waned one bit. In fact, it's grown. He really is the most beautiful and gentle person it's possible to imagine. This is where you're completely compatible. His love for you is all-devouring. He cares about everything you do, even to the point that he bullies you at times, and he's even been in tears when you've been a difficult little sod when he's insisted you study hard. Sometimes he almost tears his hair out when he's trying to get you to understand that your education is the most important part of life at your age. You even ran out of the house once when he was driving you crazy with his demands. That was awful. You thought it was all over. You were like a bear with a sore head for a week, until, that is, dad gave you a right rollicking when he found out what was up with you. That was one of the very few times that dad and Brice spoke to each other. Dad rang Brice up to find out what had gone on, and when Brice had told him what had gone on, in a way that sort of got dad onside a bit. He made you go back to Brice with your tail between your legs. But it wasn't between your legs long. Within half an hour it was pulsating in his mouth. So you tried a bit harder after that, and your school report at the end of the last school year was cause for celebration by both dad and Brice. Separately, of course. And different. Dad took you out to dinner with Aunt Vickie and her family, and Brice fucked you big style until even you were worn out. And an extra bonus was that became the first night you got to have a stayover with Brice. You've had two or three since. In fact you're on one now. Dad's on days, working the whole weekend, and he told you to.

******************

Your body is beginning to quiver with the sensations Brice is giving you as his teeth and tongue and lips arouse the senses only he can whip up, so you drag him roughly back to your face by his hair, crush your lips against his, push your tongue right into his mouth, lock your legs around his waist, grab his cock with both hands, and pull him into you. The moment you feel it slide into its full depth, scraping along the magic button that provides those internal pleasures which drive you crazy with lust, you feel him pulsing, exploding along with you, and when he fills you full of his hot spunk, your own spurts onto your belly as the beautiful feelings overwhelm you.

******************

"More pie?"

You pat your belly, and grin. "No thanks. After what you made me do before we had dinner, I'm full both ends now."

Brice grins and shakes his head. "You're a disgusting little boy."

"But I'm your disgusting little boy, and don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

Brice shrugs his shoulders. "Even though I did make it myself, the pie was delicious, and I did enjoy it."

His retort makes you laugh. But that's Brice. He often makes you laugh with his quick-wittedness. He smiles at you, that wonderful smile that makes you smile every time you recall it. It happens when you're at school; when you're at home with dad and watching the TV, and right now it gives you a warm feeling inside that you're seeing the real thing. It's moments like this when you feel the deepest love you have for this man you met at the bus stop, and that's why you lean forward and reach out a hand to him. After almost a year, you've become telepathic at times, and this is one of those times. Automatically his hand comes out to you. You rub fingers, and then clasp hands. And then you share love through your eyes. After the peak of sex, this is your most precious moment. You can see Brice, and he can see you, and there's no shyness in either of you as you explore the passions of each other. Brice's eyes are full of the love he has for you... and you know he can see the same in yours. Eventually, you ask, "Do you miss the bus stop?"

"No, but I do miss my Bus Stop Boy. I can recall him now."

"What was he like?"

"Beautiful. Exciting. I'd spend the day in a melancholy mood if I didn't see him. I used to study him, trying to work out how beautiful his body was beneath his school uniform. Occasionally he'd lift his jacket and I'd get a glimpse of his lovely bottom."

You giggle. "I used to lift my jacket up on purpose sometimes when I knew you were looking at me from the upstairs window. Sometimes I used to pretend to scratch it so it showed up the shape of it."

"When did you first know that I fancied you?"

You shrug your shoulders. "I didn't really know that you did, but I always hoped you did. When I was on the bus from my house to the school bus stop, I was always plotting stuff. I always stood facing your house when I was by it. It was my place. I wanted you to see me properly, and I always wanted to look my best for you." You giggle. "I used to try and make myself really good looking for you."

Brice grins. "That wasn't difficult. I used to love it when you frowned. I took a picture of you once when you were frowning."

You laugh. "Did you? Have you still got it?"

"Yes... and a lot more I took of you."

"Can we look at them?"

"I'll go and get them. They're in the bedroom. You go and sit on the sofa and I'll bring them down."

*****************

Brice places the two photograph albums on the sofa beside him while you snuggle up to him and he wraps an arm around your shoulders. Then he picks one up and places it on his knee, but before he opens it, he says, "There are some in here of Sinclair. If you want me to get to the ones of just you, then you'll have to turn the other way while I find them."

"No, that's okay. I like Sinclair."

You feel Brice's arm tighten around you a little, and then he says, "You might not like him so much if you see some of the ones in here."

"Why?"

"Some of them are... shall we say... a little intimate?"

You look into Brice's face. "Intimate? You mean sexy?"

"I suppose you could say that."

"Pornographic?"

"No. we didn't go there. Well, we didn't take any photographs of us doing anything together if that's what you mean, and nor did we take any that were outright sexy stuff."

You grin at him. "That's a shame. Never mind. Let's look at them."

Brice chuckles. "Well don't say I didn't warn you."

******************

You really should be jealous, but you're not. Some of the photographs are intimate. You knew Sinclair was a sexy bugger, but you didn't realize what a sexy bugger he really was. Not only was he a sexy bugger, he was an exhibitionist as well, and he loved showing off his nakedness. You chuckle at Brice when you point out that in some of them Sinclair is aroused.

Brice chuckles, and says, "Taking photographs of him naked was an art of its own, and in some of them I had to wait a quarter of an hour before I could take one with him not sporting an erection." Then, with a nice squeeze, he adds, "Sinclair reminds me of someone else I know." That makes you giggle, so you put the album on Brice's lap, undo your zip, and show him your hard cock. He grins, and asks, "Why is that hard again?"

"Because looking at Sinclair's body has made it hard. I'll bet me and him could have had some fun together with you. We could have taken turns."

"Taken turns with what?"

You grin up at him. "You know. Don't tell me he didn't like it up his bum like I do."

Brice grins. "There was very little difference between you two."

You point at a naked picture of Sinclair. "His cock was a bit bigger than mine. Does that mean you're disappointed with mine?"

"He was older then. Yours will be as big as his when you're fourteen."

You smirk. "If I push the ruler down really hard, I can get it to twelve centimetres now."

"Twelve centimetres. Almost five inches in old money. Not bad for a little `un. But that's cheating. Unless you're really in heat, I'd say it wasn't much more than ten centimetres. But it is a chunky little thing, so that makes up for it."

You chuckle. "It's never going to be as big as yours, but that doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

You smirk at him again. "Because I'm the getter, not the giver."

Brice grins. "Just as well then. Anyway, I like it just as it is. It's a comfortable mouthful."

You give him another smirk. "And yours is a comfortable bumful."

He laughs. "You weren't saying that when we first did it. You used to squeal like a stuck pig."

You laugh. "Liar! I used to tell you when it was hurting. What did you expect me to do? Take all of it on the first go?"

Brice snorts. "It took you about four months. I thought at one time that I was going to have to give up on you."

You reach your head up and kiss his cheek. "Bet you're glad you didn't now though, eh? What did you think when we got it right up, that time when I made you do it while I was watching the scene of Jeroen taking it and we had it on repeat on the VLC Player? Do you know how I managed it?"

"No. How did you manage it?"

You giggle. "I pretended you were Walt."

Brice glares at you. "You little bastard! Really?"

"No. I'm kidding you. I was pretending I was Jeroen, and he didn't put up too much fuss, so I pushed out like you'd told me to do, and in it went. I was dead chuffed when I felt your belly on my bum. How long did it take Sinclair to get you all inside him?"

"Thirty seconds."

You stare into his face. "You're kidding me!"

He grins at you. "I'm kidding you. Probably about forty seconds. Anyway, I want to look at the photographs of you and not Sinclair. So if you can tear yourself away from the porn, can we look at those please?"

"Where are they?"

Brice giggles. "In the other album."

"Then why did you have us looking at this one first?"

"Because I'm clever. Now you've seen those pictures of Sinclair, you'll be as randy as hell when we go to bed."

You snigger. "I'm that now, so can we go to bed now?"

Brice shakes his head. "No. I want to see the little man I fell in love with... the little man who is my whole world."

********************

"I remember what I was doing when you took that one."

"What were you doing?" asks Brice.

You chuckle. "Look at my left hand. It's in my trouser pocket. I was playing with it and made it come while I was thinking about you."

"Was it nice?"

"It was always nice."

"Always nice? How often did you do it?"

You giggle. "Quite a lot. Did you like me in my school uniform?"

"Uhuh. I remember the first time I saw you. Your uniform was brand new. I used to fantasise about taking it off slowly so I could get to what was underneath it. The new boy at the bus stop. It's a pity I can't publish sexy stories like that. It would make a great title."

You still haven't zipped up, so you pull your cock out again and play with it. Then you grin at Brice, and say, "You could write the story and put pictures of this in it to illustrate it. That would be really sexy. I'll come in my uniform next time I come, and we can start on the story."

"We?"

You laugh. "Yes... we! I'll help you with the story, and you can do illustrations with me stripping off a bit at a time. It will be great fun. It's a pity we can't do it now."

Brice gives you a naughty look. "What time does your dad get home?"

"Why?"

"Well... what about if I took you home and you sort of borrowed your uniform for this weekend?"

********** *********** *********** ********** ***********

Brice Washington-Thompson speaks.

When Alan comes down the stairs dressed in his school uniform, including his school bag, and his hair set up exactly as he does it when he's going to school, your cock immediately goes hard in your pants. But something else happens... you fall in love yet again with this special young man who's stolen your heart.

Fall in love yet again. That happens often. Regularly, in fact... probably once a week when you haven't seen him for a week. He walks through the door and the sight of him turns your tummy over. And the reason for that is because your love for him has never waned. This affair could have turned out to be just one of those crushes, but it's stood the test of time... time being almost a year. And after almost a year when he presents himself in his school uniform, you start all over again.

He grins at you; stands there seductively, and then shyly asks, "Do you like me?"

You go to him, straighten his tie, tuck the collar of his shirt in properly, and then look into his beautiful, blue eyes. "Yes, I like you very much. Do you like me?"

He smiles up at you. "Yes. I dream about you sometimes."

"What do you dream about?"

He flickers his eyelids and furrows his brow. "I dream that you might love me."

"And if I tell you that I also dream about you loving me, what would you say to that, young man?"

"I think I'd be pleased, but I'm also a bit worried."

"And what are you worried about?"

Alan shrugs his shoulders. "I dunno. I suppose I'm worried that when you find out what I'm really like, you won't like me."

"In what way?"

Another shrug of the shoulders while we play this game. "If you find out that I'm gay, you might not like me."

"Well, you are only eleven, so you really don't know if you're gay or not yet. That will come later."

Alan looks down at the floor. "I knew you'd say that."

"How did you."

He looks up into your face. "Everybody thinks that eleven year old boys don't know what they are. I know what I am. I think I've always known what I am. Does that disgust you?"

You smile at him. "No! Certainly not, but I think you might be disgusted with me."

Alan looks quizzically into your eyes. "Why would I be disgusted with you?"

You pretend to be shy, and touch the collar of his school jacket. "Ever since I first saw you, I've always wanted to kiss you. I suppose you'd be disgusted if I did."

Alan points to the sofa. "Can we sit down a bit?"

You take him gently by the arm, take his schoolbag from him, and point to a seat at the end of the sofa. "Sit there. Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

Alan sits down and smiles. "No, that's alright."

You place the schoolbag on the occasional table in front of you and sit down next to Alan, almost touching him with your hips. When you half-turn towards him, you leg brushes against his knee. You smile at him, put a hand on his thigh, and say, "This is nice." You squeeze his thigh. "You've got nice legs."

He smiles back at you, and then looks down at the hand on his thigh. "They're alright I suppose. You've got strong hands."

"Am I hurting you? Do you want me to remove it?"

Alan looks up at you with a furrowed-brow frown. "No! It isn't hurting. I was just saying that you've got strong hands."

"Do you like strong hands?"

Alan giggles shyly. "Sort of. I dream about your hands sometimes."

You begin to stroke his soft inner thigh with your fingers, and then smile when you ask, "They're silly things to dream about. And what way do you dream about my hands?"

Again Alan giggles shyly. "Sort of what they're doing now."

You stroke his inner thighs just a bit harder, and surreptitiously move your hand up a bit further until your thumb is gently stroking his balls. "Like this?"

He nods. "Uhuh. That's nice."

You lean a bit closer, put your arm behind his shoulders, and whisper in his ear, "Will you let me kiss you?"

"Yes. But I'm a bit scared. I've never done this before with a man."

"Don't you like men?"

Alan pretends to be flustered. "No, I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I do like men, it's just that I've never done it with one before. It will be my very first time."

You smile at him. "And it will be the first time I've kissed a schoolboy."

Alan break the game then, and giggles when he says, "Liar! You bloody liar!"

You wink at him. "I'm dying to get in your schoolboy pants, so I'm not going to tell you the truth, am I!"

"Well get bloody on with it then! My cock is aching like mad!"

You laugh. "Patience, my dear boy. I've got to undress you first. That should be fun." You continue. "You've got beautiful lips. I really would like to kiss them."

Alan shrugs his shoulders. "Okay then. Do we do tongues?"

"I'm not sure. I've never done tongues before. Have you?"

Alan shakes his head. "No. I've never been kissed by a man before."

You lower your head to the front of his, and gently touch his lips with yours. He responds and your lips come together in a gentle kiss. When you break it, you smile at him, and say, "That was nice. Did you like it?"

He nods and licks his lips. "Uhuh. It was nice. You're a nice kisser."

You smile at him. "Can I put my strong hand inside your shirt and feel your body? Would you like that?"

For an answer, Alan undoes the three bottom buttons on his shirt above the waistband of his trousers, then looks into your face, and asks, "Do you want me to take my tie off?"

You shake your head. "No. I like your school tie. It's nice. Let me just feel at your body." You insert your hand inside his shirt, and begin to stroke his tummy. He sighs deeply. Then you move your hand up onto his chest and begin to play with his nipples. He shudders and closes his eyes, so you take the opportunity to slip your hand out of his shirt and undo the button of his trouser waistband. He pretends not to notice that you have. Once you've done that, you really begin to explore the front of his body, making sure your hand goes underneath his underpants to stroke his lower tummy, but only slightly touching the base of his rigid cock. Teasing time, and you wonder how long this will last before playing the game turns into reality. But Alan is a good actor, and he pretends to be shocked when your fingers actually touch his cock properly. He opens his eyes and stares at you in disbelief. Immediately, you say, "Sorry. I couldn't help it."

He smiles. "It's okay. It was nice actually. Nobody has ever touched me there before."

"Really! Do you want me to touch it again?"

"Will it be better if I slip my trousers down?" Then he adds quickly. "It will be more comfortable for me if I do."

You nod. "If it will be more comfortable for you, then yes. But only if you want to."

Alan nods. "Do you want to do it?" He smiles. "I'm shy."

You smile back at him. "Okay. Can you lift your bum up a bit while I get them down?" Alan lifts his bum, and you work his school trouser down to his knees. "Then you smile at him again, fondle his now naked thighs, and say, "You really have got nice legs. I didn't think they would be this nice. You're really gorgeous under your clothes."

Alan grins shyly. "Am I really? I changed my underpants this morning. Do you like white ones."

You rub your hands over them, including pressing his rock hard cock against his lower belly, and say, "Yes I do. They suit you. Do you mind me doing what I'm doing now?"

Alan looks down at your hand. "No. It's nice." Then he looks at you. "Do you like doing it?"

You nod. "Yes. You've got a really nice thing in there."

Alan giggles. "Thing?"

You grin, and then pinch his cock between your fingers. "Yes... thing, but I can call it your cock if you want me to. I know that sounds rude, but it's fun, and we're having fun, aren't we?"

Alan nods enthusiastically. "It sounds sort of sexy when you say it. Will it be better if I slip my underpants down as well?" He adds quickly. "It will be more comfortable for me if I do."

You nod. "If it will be more comfortable for you, then yes. But only if you want to."

Alan nods. "It will. Do you want to do it?" He smiles. "I'm shy."

You smile back at him. "Okay. Can you lift your bum up a bit while I get them down?" Alan lifts his bum and you work his underpants down to his knees. "Then you smile at him again, fondle his now naked cock, and tell him, "You really have got a nice cock. I didn't think it would be this nice. Can I play with it for a while?"

Alan nods. "If you want to. But before you do, can you take my trousers and underpants right off? It will be more comfortable if you do."

"Of course! Anything to make you more comfortable. After all, this is about making you feel nice. It is nice, isn't it?"

"Yes. I really like doing this. Take my underpants and trousers off and then you can get to me properly." He fiddles with his balls, grins, and says, "You can even play with these afterwards if you want to."

Trousers and underpants off, and Alan relaxes back into the sofa while you play with these if you want to. After a while of playing with his balls and his cock, you ask him, "Does it feel nice?"

He looks down at your hand, and nods. "Yes. Can you go a bit lower with your middle finger?"

You know exactly what he means, but you pretend you don't when you push your middle finger along the seam that leads to his bum, and when you get it slightly into his bum crack, you ask, "Do you mean in here?"

Alan is almost over the edge, but he carries on valiantly. "Yes. Can you get it in a bit further and tickle my bum hole?"He looks at you. "You don't have to if you think it's disgusting."

You smile at him. "No, I don't think it's disgusting. In fact, if you lift your legs up a bit... you know, put your feet on the edge of the sofa, I can get to it properly. That's if you want to, of course!"

(Want to? Alan's feet are on the sofa and he's pulling his bum cheeks wide before you can blink.)

So you start to tickle his sphincter, and after a short while, insert your middle finger. It doesn't take long to find his magic button, and that's when the schoolboy game ends and Alan becomes the experienced loved boy, and shortly after you began manipulating his magic button, and after you've got on your knees in front of him and got his cock in your mouth, he explodes in fantastic schoolboy fashion... gripping your head in a vicelike grip while he pummels at your mouth until three spurts of his boy semen are ejected into the back of your throat.

********** ********** *********** **********

Alan Parnell speaks.

You love it when you have a stayover, especially when you've gone to bed at night and done everything you wanted sexually, and before you go to sleep when you're lying naked in Brice's strong arms. Brice is quiet, and so are you. Then you chuckle. You feel his head move above your own that's resting on his shoulder, and he asks, "What are you giggling about, you little bugger?"

"Shall we do it again next week?"

"You mean the schoolboy thing?"

You nod. "Yes. It's one of the sexiest things you've done to me since we watched Fellowship of the Ring that morning when I brought you coffee in bed."

Brice chuckles. "We never did get to The Mountain of Doom. Where were we when it all went off?"

You giggle. "We were in Rivendell. We'd just crossed the river and got away from the Nine Ringwraiths." You giggle even more. "I can just remember hearing the flood washing them away when you really abused me."

Brice chuckles. "Chance would be a fine thing. I've never needed to abuse you since you landed on my doorstep to return Halifaxual. If anything, it's been you who's abused me. You still do it."

"I was on your doorstep to return the photo and the poem, not the bloody book. I was saving your balls again. It's a good job the lads didn't find out that you're a child molester."

Brice snorts. "Bollocks! It wasn't me today who acted like a ten year old pretending he wanted a bloke to fiddle with him."

You laugh. "Eight, actually. I was pretending I was eight again and in junior school. Do you ever fancy a kid that young?"

"No. Some of the little buggers are sexy little sods, but the overwhelming majority of them think it's still for peeing out of at that age. I like my boys to know what they're doing; what they want, and are prepared to go and get it. Just like you."

"And Sinclair?"

"And Sinclair. You couldn't get a fag paper between you two. You're both men abusers."

You chuckle. "So we are, but Sinclair has got one over me."

"And what's that?"

"He gets poems from you. I've never had one."

Brice kisses you on the head. "I've got one just for you."

You look up at him. "Have you really?"

He smiles into your face. "Uhuh. Do you want to hear it?"

You nod. "Can't wait."

He pulls your head down onto his shoulder, wraps his arm tighter around you, you relax completely into his warmth, and he says, "Roses are red, violets are blue, and I'll never find another schoolboy as sexy as you."

That makes you laugh, and you're still grinning when you look up into his face and say, "That was as nice as the one you wrote for your other lover boy. How long did it take you to think that one up?"

He grins at you. "About three seconds. Roughly the same amount of time it takes you to come once I've got my finger through your ring."

Again you laugh. "Ring!"

Brice chuckles. "Fellowship of the Ring. My finger and your magic button. They're best pals. A bit like Gandalf and Frodo."

"But what happens when we get to the Mountain of Doom and Gollum and the ring fall into the Fires of Doom?"

Brice shrugs his shoulders. "Dunno. Nobody knows. But one thing I do know, we've got a hell of a way to go before we do get there, and probably our journey together will be as difficult as that of The Hobbits in Lords of the Ring."

You snuggle closer. "I like being a hobbit. Especially Frodo."

"And why do you especially like being Frodo?"

"Because I've got a magic ring. Once you put your finger through it, I sort of disappear into a land full of fantastic stuff."

"And what about when I put this thing between my legs through it? What happens then?"

You giggle. "I become an elf with magic powers so you can't resist me."

Brice kisses your forehead. "You were that the first time I saw you at the bus stop. Holding you now is magical. Everything about you is magical. I've fallen in love with a little hobbit and his ring."

You snuggle closer. "And I love you, so we now have a perfect Fellowship of the Schoolboy Ring."

Brice laughs; you laugh, and so the journey of the Fellowship of the Schoolboy Ring continues. As Brice said, probably your journey will be difficult, but before it's over, the magic ring and the special love you share will overcome all hurdles. And with that final thought in mind, you ask Brice to switch out the light and then snuggle into his warm, strong arms. Fires of Doom... here we come!

The end.

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to john.thestoryteller@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.