Date: Sat, 6 May 2017 11:06:35 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Fourteen Again Chapter 34 Fourteen again by badboi666 =============================================================================== This story is - guess what! - fantasy. If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with a 14-year-old then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Remember the three things: 1 Cum 2 Wipe 3 Donate =============================================================================== Chapter 34 His name was Robin and he was, as he put it proudly, 13 ½. He lived in Norwich with his parents and his brother (16). This was his third scout camp, and he had had so much fun at the last one that he hard been hard all week looking forward to this one. What kind of fun? He explained that Luke (his brother) had returned from his first scout camp four years ago full of excitement which he had been keen to share with Robin. The excitement was wanking with other boys, and Luke - until then a frequent if solitary wanker - had had doors opened to him behind which were revealed splendours so good that his brother, until then much despised, had to be invited to share them. Robin, then 9 ½, had observed Luke's bedtime activities (of which Luke was unaware) and, together with snatched behind-the-bike-sheds conversations at school, he had put two and two together. His wankings were not as frequent or, judging from the overheard moans, as satisfying as his brother's appeared to be. But after all, he was only 9 ½. All that had changed four years ago after Luke's return from having his eyes opened. Since then Robin had dutifully wanked Luke most days, and Luke had grudgingly agreed to reciprocate. Robin had been fascinated by Luke's initial spunky cums, and had noted that they had developed from modest seepages to strong squirts to fucking great jets, as he described them to me. Robin's first proper cum had happened on his thirteenth birthday. Luke had promised him a special present. Luke had been fooling about with another boy, a bit older than himself, at school and had been the recipient of his first blow job a few days before the birthday. Instruction in technique had been given, and he duly gave his kid brother the best birthday present of his life. To his surprise (and delight) Luke got a small mouthful of Birthday Boy's spunk. Their nocturnal habits had been modified thenceforward, and now blow jobs were routinely given and received. All that was made clear to me in the time it took for us to walk slowly round three fields. It was made clear to Robin that I was of a like mind as far as the attraction of cock-sucking was concerned. We had to plan when ("right now!" said Robin, "I'm horny - I haven't cum for days.") and where. This was harder as scout camps are not laid out with fellatio stations at every corner. The bogs were far too risky. The only place was the woods. "What time do you have to be in your tent?" I asked. "Oh, there's all sorts of stuff going on - I could be anywhere - so long as I'm in the tent by 9.30. Lights out at 10. And, if it's anything like last year, cocks out by one minute past." "I don't suppose you could sneak out after lights out?" "No, not if there's fun to be had in our tent. I can't miss out on the first night 'cos that's when any action will be sorted out." Clearly scout camp - to which I had never been as a boy - was a whole lot randier than I had imagined. If Robin's lusts were to be satisfied by me it would have to be before lights out. It was now approaching 8 o'clock: we had well over an hour. "Come on," I said, and led him towards the wood. When we got to the boundary wall he was in two minds. He would be going into forbidden territory in broad daylight. On the other hand he would be getting his cock sucked by a new mouth. No contest really, and we were over the wall in seconds. I led him into the well-wooded part I had found earlier. We would have plenty of warning of anyone approaching, but since the only people likely to be approaching were other scouts bent on no-good behaviour it didn't seem to matter a great deal. We agreed that each of us would suck the other's cock and swallow his spunk. We tossed a coin to see who went first - he won and elected to suck me. I dropped my shorts ("Fuck me, you aren't wearing pants!") and he knelt down in front of me. I needn't describe what he did: he did it very well, trained and practised as he was. He used his hands to knead my arse cheeks but made no attempt to get his fingers involved. I warned him of my incipient release ("mmm!") and allowed myself to flow unrestrained into his sucking mouth ("MMM!") which remained on my cock until every drop had been skilfully sucked clean. "You are some cock-sucker, Robin," I said, "and I've been sucked off by plenty of people. That was up there with the best." Not strictly true, but still in the top quarter anyway. "Really?" "Yeah, really." He gave my sensitive head a quick last lick and stood up. "My turn," he said, with a grin. He dropped his shorts, revealing white pants, well tented. I knelt and gently eased them over his cock. I had seen it, and admired it, in the shitter, but now it was stiff and luscious. 5 inches, cut, very little hair. I licked up the underside from his balls to the tip and a drop of pre-cum appeared, duly licked up. I kneaded his arse cheeks and moved my fingers nearer his hole. I wanted to see how he reacted to that. Another long luscious lick, another drop of nectar, fingers nearer to his hole. "I love what you're doing, Peter, keep at it." I took one of his balls into my mouth and his knees started to give way. "Oh God, that's good. I'll do that to Luke, it's fantastic." We were getting on like a house on fire. I engulfed his cock in my mouth and swirled my tongue all round his glans, over and under, and kneaded his arse cheeks vigorously. By now he was red hot and the heat coming from his cock was inflaming me, even though I'd only cum a few minutes earlier. I quickly licked a finger and rubbed it over his arsehole. "Oh fuck, Peter." "Nice?" "You bet. Luke tried to fuck me once, but this is much nicer." One to remember, Luke, I thought - spend some time on foreplay, preferably with his cock in your mouth - it never fails. My tongue and lips were bringing Robin to a peak of tension - soon his balls would burst and his spunk pour into me. Quick lick of my finger again and ... in it went up to the second knuckle ... "oh fucking hell, yesyesyes, aaah!" his eyes tight shut, his entire body as taut as a bowstring, his hips thrusting and his cock pouring spunk into me, jet after jet. My mouth was full of his cum and although I swallowed as fast as I could some escaped and ran down my chin. I counted seven strong squirts before he stopped. "Bloody hell, Robin, that was amazing. When did you last cum?" "Four days ago. I've been saving it up." I stood up and he noticed the cum running down my chin. "Come here." he said, and, leaning forward, licked it up. He then kissed the tip of my nose and looked me in the eye. I saw only the sexiest boy in Thetford, and I kissed his nose. Our eyes met and one millionth of a second later our mouths met in a fiercely erotic kiss. Two boys, 13 and 14, both with soft cocks still oozing spunk, their shorts at their ankles. Where is Caravaggio when you need him? Moments - minutes - passed. We broke apart. "Time to get back," I said, "will you have any energy left at one minute past ten?" "Dunno, but we'll have to see. Where's your tent?" "Over there," I said vaguely, pointing somewhere in roughly the right direction. "Can we do this again?" asked Robin. "Don't see why not," I replied, "it was bloody good and I certainly want to." "I loved it when your finger went into my arse," he said, "I'd like to try more of that. If being fucked is better than that was then the sooner I get fucked, the better." "I'll have to see what I can do about that," I said, "but it won't be easy finding somewhere to do it. Let me think about it. When can we meet again?" "They'll tell us what tomorrow's plans are at 9.30," he said. "Tell you what. I'll say I have to have a shit at 11. By then any one minute past ten activities should be finished, and if they're not they'll have to carry on without me. Can you be in the same shitter then?" I assured him that I would be there, and we clambered over the boundary wall and made our separate ways - he to his tent and me to wander about looking both purposeful and inconspicuous. If everyone had to be in his tent by 9.30 the last thing I wanted was to be noticed, and enquiry made about why I was not put away for the night. I decided the wood was the best place. Luckily it was a warm night, but by 10.45 I was beginning to feel that this wasn't such a bright idea. I made my way along the outside of the boundary wall until I was only about 30 feet from the site of our assignation. There was no moon, and the only light was from hurricane lamps placed occasionally so that anyone going to the bogs wouldn't get lost. At 10.55 I was in the bog waiting. On the dot of 11 Robin came in. "Did you see anyone on the way here?" I asked. "Yes, unfortunately. A couple of the scoutmasters were patrolling and one of them - not our troop, luckily - asked what I was up to. I told him I had the runs and he told me not to be long. I don't think this is a good place." I had to agree. It was one thing to look at another boy's cock here, as we had done, but it was a dangerous place for any kind of action. "If we're to have a proper session we need to be somewhere safer than this. Anyone could come in, some kid with the runs maybe," I said. He grinned. I asked him what arrangements there were for the next day. "Breakfast at 0800, tidy tent and carry out tasks 0830, assemble for Church Service 0900, games 0930, elevenses 1100, more games, lunch 1300, buses to swimming pool 1400, free after getting back until tea 1700, games until cocoa and buns 2100, in tent 2130, lights out 2200," he recited. "And cocks out 2201 I suppose/" I added, "what happened tonight?" At that precise moment we heard footsteps approaching, so we both whipped our shorts down and took up station as far apart as possible in the shitter. A scoutmaster put his head round the door. He asked Robin if he was OK. "Yes, thanks, I don't know what I've eaten, but I'm OK." The scoutmaster looked at me. "You got the runs too?" "Afraid so, but I'm not too bad." "Well, if you're still feeling groggy in the morning come to the medical tent after breakfast." "Thank you," we both chorused. "Well, good night then. Don't be long." After he'd gone we exchanged relieved looks. "Can you find your way to where we did it today in the woods?" I asked him. "Of course I can," he said proudly, "I'm a boy scout, remember." "Right, how could I forget. How about we meet there as soon as you get back from swimming - no, wait, how about you miss out on swimming, after all, you've got the runs, haven't you?" "What a bright idea," his eyes lit up, "yeah, and there'll be nobody about. Yes, I'll be there at quarter past two." "I'll be there waiting," I said, "and you can tell me all about your one-minute-past-ten happenings. He grinned, "yes, you'll be amused by that." "Can't wait," and I kissed his nose again. And he kissed mine. "See you tomorrow," he whispered, and left. Three minutes later I left too, and made my way back to the woods. I passed a cold uncomfortable night. It was impossible to find a comfortable position in the wood, and after an hour I gave up trying. I walked into Thetford, not with any purpose other than keeping warm by walking. At 2 on a Sunday morning it was deserted. However the station building wasn't locked and I found I could sleep in the waiting room. By 6 I had had enough, and I was worried in case I was discovered. I was hungry too. This wasn't turning out as well as I'd hoped. Sex with Robin was good, and would be better today, but I hadn't thought seriously enough about the other appetites a growing boy needed to satisfy. It didn't seem likely that there would be anywhere open in Thetford early on a Sunday morning. I walked back to the camp and entered over the wall from the wood as I didn't think it would be very clever to walk in through the main gate. The smell of cooking was irresistible so I decided I would brazen it out. I waited until a good-sized gaggle of scots appeared. They didn't have a scoutmaster with them, so I tagged along and managed to get in the queue about half-way through the group. No-one paid the slightest attention. I got to the servery, food was doled out, I picked up a cup of tea and sat down with a different group. Desultory chat occurred, but it was early morning, so little of consequence was said. The other scouts at the table were nice enough, but I wasn't on the hunt any more. Robin's cock (and his arse) were all I lusted after. After a shit - a real one this time - I made off to the woods again to wait for my next appointment with the scout movement - lunch! I used the same tactic, with the same result. This was too easy! By 2, or 1400 as Robin would have recited it, I was at 'our' place in the woods waiting impatiently. Then, as he had promised, Robin came quietly into view. =============================================================================== Will Robin get his wish and be fucked? What else will happen in the bosky woods? badboi666@btinternet.com is where you should sent comments and suggestions. Make sure you drop something Nifty's way at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html