Date: Tue, 20 Jun 2017 13:08:22 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Fourteen again Chapter 52 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 52 It took us only 40 minutes to get to our destination. During that time, as we roared through the early morning - it was getting on for 3 am - I clung to Ace's leather-clad body. In the last three hours my life, already in something of a topsy-turvy condition, had endured a major change. I was in no doubt that I was deeply attached to Ace and that he felt the same about me. King's remarks only served to reinforce that. Why, even now, was I using words like 'deeply attached'? What was I afraid of? I knew perfectly well that in less than 11 days I would leave 1957 for ever, and certainly die. That didn't bother me: after all it was the Faustian bargain I'd made with the fairy. What would it do to Ace if he and suddenly accepted that we loved each other? Could a man of 28 love a 14-year-old? Certainly he could have a full-blown sexual relationship with one, and I had no doubt that both of us wanted to explore that a lot more. But love? I didn't waste time wondering whether a 14-year-old could love a man of 28 as there weren't any 14-year-olds in this equation right now. A man of 90 knew all that he would ever know about what being in love felt like, and I knew that this was real. So had my feelings for Jack, and more strongly for Robin, been, but this feeling was in spades, doubled, and with an overtrick. How on earth was I to resolve it? We roared through the night and I got no nearer finding out. The only thing I could focus on was that I had 10 days to live, 10 days to enjoy myself without thought for anything thereafter, and 10 days in which to do my best to make sure that no-one - Jack, Robin or Ace - were traumatised by whatever they might feel after I'd gone. And while I was debating all this I remembered how much fun Barry had been, and Steve, and Marcel and Yves. Would I see them again? Ace turned in to a bungalow in the outskirts of Harlow, followed by King. They parked their bikes and I got off and stretched. I was stiff from clinging on to Ace so tightly. "This is us," he said, and led us inside. It was like walking into an Amsterdam gay bar of the 1990s, or perhaps Amsterdam gay bars were done up like Berlin gay bars of the 1930s, which seemed quite likely. Once inside the front door the small hall was respectable enough, with nothing to show that behind the doors leading off it were rooms furnished in an unusual way for 1950s Essex. Apart from a normal kitchen and 'best room' (no doubt used only for visitors), they had knocked the two bedrooms and the bathroom into a large very well-equipped gay paradise. Each end of the room - the two original bedrooms - had a big double bed. The wet area in between had a large bath, not as big as the one Steve and I had played in only yesterday, but big enough for three. There were two shower heads and a toilet. The bathroom floor had been dug out about six inches and the whole middle wet area was tiled to slope downwards to an open drain in the middle. This was laid out for some wild goings-on, and I liked what I was seeing. Ace and King had decorated their ends of the playroom differently. King had a series of erotic and very explicit paintings of men and young boys doing naughty things. Ace's end was entirely covered in mirror: wherever you were you couldn't avoid seeing everything that was happening. I noticed that there were no doors. "Don't you mind not having any privacy?" I asked Ace as he brought me in. "We're twins, Jack. We shared a womb, we've done everything together for the whole of our lives. We don't have any secrets - why would we want privacy?" "But this is equipped for sex parties. Don't the other guys mind?" "Do you?" (I shook my head) "well then. That's the kind of parties we have." King came in with three mugs of tea. "I guess you could do with refreshment after your journey," he said, grinning. "And after my exertions earlier," I replied, "a boy needs filling up." Ace reached over and took my hand - an unexpectedly tender gesture which confirmed all I had imagined - "There'll be plenty of that, Jack, if that's what you want." King sighed. "Jack," he said, "Ace has this problem. He falls in love all the time." "Shut it, King," said Ace without rancour, "this one's different; I just know it." "Yes, dear," replied his brother with an air of weary patience. "No, I mean it. I've fucked enough kids to be able to tell the difference between lust and something more. I tell you, this is a fucking sight more." I wasn't happy about this discussion going on over my head, so I broke it up by finishing my tea, putting my mug down, taking Ace's mug from his hand, putting it down beside mine, and flinging myself at him, my lips seeking out his. Within thirty seconds we were all over each other. King snorted. After a couple of minutes Ace broke off. "We need to talk," he said, "come on, King." The three of us arranged ourselves on Ace's bed, me in his arms and King lying next to use. It was close and warm, and I felt secure. Ace began to talk. "We're builders. Our father started a business and we joined him after leaving school. He died six years ago when we were in Egypt so we got compassionate leave to come home to sort things out. Our mother died when we were 15, so when Dad died we were alone, apart from each other." King smiled. "The army understood our position and we got an early discharge to run the business. The first thing we did was this conversion. After we'd done it and had a few parties here some of our mates said that there must be money in doing up queers' houses like this. It hadn't dawned on us, but we put discreet adverts in the right places - clubs, bars - and within six months we had converted 8 places in London. As the queers couldn't get ordinary builders to do the kind of stuff we did we could charge pretty much what we liked. Now we employ four men so that we can convert three places at the same time." "You should tell him about recruiting the four men," put in King. "No, I think he'll be able to figure it out for himself," said Ace, and gave me a squeeze. "Yeah, I reckon," I said, and squeezed him back. This was becoming very domestic. Ace paused. "That's who we are and what we do," said King. "What Ace won't tell you is that neither of us has any long-term relationships. We're both into one night affairs, like tonight in Ely. We go there, or to some similar place, every Friday night and we've never fucked the same guy twice. Well, that's not strictly true. We've never fucked the same guy on more than one Friday. We fucked one guy five times." King smiled at the memory of this feat. "I can tell you, because Ace won't, that you are something special. I know Ace, and he knows me, and he won't tell you that he loves you. But I can, and I know that he does." A silence fell. I wondered how Ace would react to his brother's declaration on his behalf. "It's true," he said," we've not formed any relationships. I don't know why, maybe it's Mum dying when she did. Maybe it's that the kind of sex we like is so far out that no-one ever looks interested in coming back for more. 12 hours ago if someone had told me that I would meet a 14-year-old, fuck him silly, and fall in love with him I would have thought him crazy. Crazy, but clever, 'cos he'd have got it absolutely right. Come here, you little bugger, and let me kiss you." King smiled. "Well, you two lovebirds," he said, "I've had a busy night, and I'm for bed. If you're going to fuck please do it quietly." "Oh, fuck off, King," said Ace happily. My guess was that now that the 'I love you' hurdle had been crossed (although actually it hadn't been said) there would be less fucking and more cuddling. That was fine, but I would have been dismayed if fucking was to be abandoned. What on earth was I to do? Play for time. "I'm knackered too. Can we just go to bed and sleep?" Ten minutes later King was snoring gently over that side and over here I was lying in Ace's arms, my head on his smooth chest, my nose an inch from the fetching arse of the tattooed boy sucking Ace's tattooed cock. Paradise. Time to worry about all the bees buzzing round my head tomorrow - no, later this morning when we woke. ***** It was nearly midday when King emerged and told us that it was time to stir. "I'm making tea, if you guys want five minutes alone then you have five minutes starting now," and he was gone. I could hear him clattering about in the kitchen. I stroked Ace's cock as he gradually woke. It was fat and full and thrilling. Not 11 inches any more, but still a fine 9 at least. More than enough to satisfy a hungry 14-year-old. I borrowed down and started to fellate him. "Mmm" from above. I used fingers to stroke his balls, marvelling at the smoothness of everything down there. This was certainly a part of the attraction. His cock grew in my hand (and mouth) and "mmm" turned into "aaaah!" as he pulsed four good shots of morning cum into my mouth. Ace would certainly be a cum-sharer, I thought, so while it was still warm in my mouth I scooted up to daylight and gave him a cummy good-morning kiss. "Mmm" again, "breakfast in bed," he said. When King returned we were sitting up side by side like a married couple in a TV sitcom. "Those grins tell me you haven't been idle while I've been slaving away over a hot stove for you," said King. It was good that King was so evidently happy on Ace's behalf that something special was happening. I hoped he wouldn't be jealous or uncomfortable. "By the way, Jack," he said as he handed me my mug, "the fact that you and Ace are in love does not mean that I won't be fucking you as well." My ten days were going to be busy. In the light of what King had said I wondered what was in Ace's mind as far as 'falling in love' was concerned. Was I expected to move in? Surely not. As far as Ace or King knew I was a 14-year-old out on the tiles with unsuspecting parents happily thinking I was innocently having a sleep-over with a chum. In those circumstances any 'love' would have to be conducted extremely discreetly, especially in 1957. It would have been nearly impossible in 2017 (or 2037 or wherever we'd got to). Our 'love' would be a series of secret assignations - great for sex, but hardly ideal for a properly loving relationship. I didn't buy any of the 'you're too young to know' crap, but the practical realities weren't propitious. Oh well, it wasn't really my call, but I would need to have my own mind made up when the time came. Ace and I are still in bed. King is lying at the bottom of our bed. I got out of bed and pulled the bedclothes down. "Sit beside Ace, King, I want to visit the art gallery," I said. Seeing these two lying side by side, naked and vulnerable, was a joy. The tattoos were amazing when seen in the clear light of day. The artwork was incredibly accurate, and the aura of sexuality in what the boys were doing was captured perfectly. "I think these are magic," I said, running my fingers over King's smooth chest. He murmured "Nipples, Jack," so I tweaked them. "Mmm. You can be fiercer." I tweaked and pulled, amazed at how hard his nipples became under my assault. "That's good, but I like to be hurt. Pull harder." I pulled a lot harder and King's reaction was sudden. His cock went from being soft to being wholly erect in about four seconds flat - a thing I'd never seen happen before. Ace chuckled. "That's his party trick, Jack, you've hit the jackpot there." King was panting. "Do that again while you're sucking my cock and I'll fill you up with spunk." Was this an invitation? If so it was one which I was glad to accept. Down to King's cock - all 9 inches now hot and ready: gently I pulled his foreskin back and spent a couple of minutes making sure his fraenum was awake - lips round the glans, but not making any tongue or sucking movements: I wanted him to do the work. When I was ready I reached up and took a nipple between two fingers of each hand. I could hear King's breathing become ragged - this was astonishing - and I tweaked them before pulling as hard as I could. My reward was a cry of "Oh fuck!" from King, a laugh from Ace, and a mouthful of delicious hot cum from King's cock, delivered as a gush into the back of my mouth. "Gimme!" demanded Ace, and he had a mouthful of his brother's cum while the cock that delivered it was still leaking. We rested, King regaining his normal heart beat, and I on Ace's chest, tracing the outline of the boy being rimmed. "Will you do that to me, Ace," I murmured, "I'd like that." Ace bent and kissed the top of my head. "Anything," he said. This was really serious. I was close to surrendering to this completely unexpected turn of events. It would have been so easy. Thank goodness for the little angel who whispered 'Robin' in my ear. I owed him a responsibility, and my gratification had to take second place. "Shower time," said King, recovered from his morning cum. "Come on, you two." Ace and King stood under the two shower heads and I was stuck between them, getting spray from both sides. Ace and King exchanged a questioning look, and Ace nodded. They turned towards me and both began to piss at the same time. My cock didn't stiffen quite as fast as King's had done, but by the time they were half-way through pissing I was up and ready. When they had drained their cocks I said, "OK, who gets mine?" King grinned, "Oh, you're his, Jack. You don't need to ask." Ace knelt, itself an act filled with emotional significance, and took my hard cock in his mouth. At first I couldn't let go: was it that I was too hard, or was there something deeper? "Go on, he wants it," said King, who was maybe aware, as a twin, of the strange emotional entanglements at play. My bladder complied, and Ace's mouth was the receptacle for my morning piss. He didn't spill a drop. Showered and dressed we went to the kitchen where King rustled up some grub. By now it was 1 o'clock. I was waiting for Ace to say what his plans were. ============================================================================== 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