Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2017 15:35:52 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Fourteen Again Chapter 54 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 54 We woke early. Ace was unaccustomed to sharing a bed - as he (or was it King?) had said, their sex was a series of orgies which didn't often end up with sharing a bed to sleep. Ace and I had genuinely slept together, and when I woke I was still lying on him. The pooled cum had dried, and we still smelt pretty raunchy, so we showered again. King was still asleep. It was just after 7 o'clock. "We need to leave around 9," Ace said, "It won't take that long to get there, but I don't want you to be late for Robin." "What will you do when I meet him?" I asked. "Dunno. Have to see when we get there." I liked the way Ace seemed happy to let events just happen; I was (at 14 and at 90+) one of those people who likes to plan every detail - you might have begun to work this out already. I would have to adapt to Ace's way of doing things. The journey was uneventful. I trusted Ace and, although I clung on tightly (I don't imagine he minded too much), I didn't feel any sense of danger as we raced along. In those days there was no speed limit on most roads and we often hovered round the 100 mph mark. We got to Norwich in good time and Ace parked the bike outside the station a few minutes before 11. "I'll wait here," he said, "and when you and Robin decide what you want to do, come and tell me. Then we'll work out what to do about getting you back home." The 'home' word was magic to my ears. The fictional 14-year-old (the orphan one that Ace and King believed me to be) had never had a home; the 90+ one had left home 22 days ago and would never return. The 'me' 14-year-old - the one brought here by the fairy - knew all about 'home' and what emotional baggage and comfort came with it. I hugged Ace. "Oh, Ace, you don't know how much that word means to me." "I think I do, Jack, and I think you know how much I want you to see our home as yours. Now go and see Robin." And he gave me a playful slap on the bottom. Robin was waiting in the main area. Norwich is a terminal station with quite a large circulating area behind the buffers, and when he saw me coming in from the street his eyes lit up and he came rushing to meet me. "Hello, Peter," he panted. Boys didn't normally hug in those days, but we did. Who cared if anyone thought it odd. "How are you? How was camp?" So many questions. He suggested we went into the cafe (still in those days grandly called Refreshment Room) where we ordered cups of tea. We sat at a corner table miles away from any other customers. "Well?" I said. He hesitated. "I don't know how to tell you," he began. "Hey," I said, "don't be nervous. Spit it out, whatever it is." His manner told me everything I needed to know: the only thing I still had to guess was - which of them? "What we did in the woods and in our tent was wonderful," he started, "and I will never forget it for the rest of my life. You did things with me that opened doors I didn't even know existed. We said things to each other that we meant. Then you left and I was miserable. I wanted you back to do things with, and I knew it'd be six days until I saw you again. Then something happened the night you left. I feel bad about it." "Robin, you don't need to feel bad about anything. Whatever that something was, I'm still the Peter I was a week ago." "That's the trouble," he said, his eyes downcast, "I'm not the Robin I was. One of the others saw I was miserable and tried to cheer me up." "And you and he had fantastic sex and you've had fantastic sex with him every night since then, and you and he are boyfriends. Right? And you think I might be hurt. Right?" He nodded, still not raising his face. "Listen," I said, "look at me. I couldn't be happier for you than I am. I thought the times we had were fantastic too, and I meant the words we said. But I'm leaving at the end of the month - maybe sooner - and whatever you and I had was never going to last more than a couple of weeks at most. If one of them - which one was it, by the way, I'm guessing Oliver?" "How did you know?" he gasped. "Easy. You and Sammy had wanking sessions at camp last year but nothing developed. Oliver's new, he's in your troop, so if you fell for anybody it was going to be him. What does Luke think about it?" "He doesn't know." "That's a mistake, Robin. He could be your biggest ally. You and he have regular sex sessions and he's going to notice if your interest is elsewhere. The sooner the three of you get together so that Luke knows the game - and Oliver too, come to that - the better for your relationship with your brother as well as your boyfriend. Has Oliver told you he loves you." "Yes, and I've told him ..." Tears ran down his cheeks. "Oh, Peter, I've been horrible to you." I got up and went round the table and put my arm round his shoulder. "Stop it, silly, you haven't been horrible, you've fallen in love. Good for you. I'll tell you a secret. So have I. I've been torn in half wondering how to tell you." "Really?" "Yes, Robin, really. Do you want to meet him - he's outside." Robin's hesitation was understandable. "You don't have to," I said. "I'd like to, but give me a minute to wipe my face." While he was making himself presentable I filled him in briefly on what would be outside. "I met this guy - he's 28 - and we both just knew it was real." "Wow! what will your folks think?" "I don't have folks, Robin, I'm an orphan. Ace is the first adult I've ever known who loves me. I'm going to live with him. I've discovered that what I felt for you in Thetford a week ago and what I feel for Ace now are completely different. They're both called love, but they don't feel the same. What we did was great; what you do with Oliver is great; what I do with Ace is great. That's all that matters. I hope you and Oliver make each other as happy as Ace makes me, and I make him. Now come and meet him." We went out of the cafe into the sunshine. Ace was leaning against the bike. I had been gone 20 minutes. "Hi Ace, this is Robin." Ace smiled and gave Robin a hug, to Robin's surprise. "Jack's told me all about you." "Jack?" said Robin. "Yes, it's what he calls me. He's Ace and his twin brother is King, so Jack fits," I explained. Quickly I explained to Ace while Robin stood beside me, embarrassment turning his face scarlet. "Well, Robin," said Ace, "Jack's been pissing himself with guilt worrying about how he'll tell you he's in love with me, and all the time you've been pissing yourself about Oliver. What a daft pair of sods you are. One thing I need to know. Do the two of you want to fuck?" A brutal question at lunchtime on a sunny August day outside Norwich station. I looked at Robin and he looked at me. We both imperceptibly shook our heads. "Good," said Ace, "that means everyone's still feeling the same way they did in Thetford. A bit like how King and I see it: great fucks, great memories, great friends, now move on. Now you two, kiss and let's go." And fuck it, I thought, we will. And we did. "Good luck, Robin," I whispered, "tell Oliver I'm happy for you both." A wordless nod from Robin, near tears again. I got on behind Ace and we rode off back towards Harlow. I was grateful to him for making my parting from Robin quick as well as graceful. Ace stopped at a little place near Newmarket where we stopped for egg and chips. "I was proud of you there," he said, "that was the most generous thing you could have done. I know you wanted to fuck him again, but that would have added to his confusion about his feelings. How come you're so mature?" "That's because I'm an old man inside," I said with a grin, "and quite soon I'm going to have my special old man inside." "Oh, too fucking right, kid." So the serious moment passed. "What's your next act of kindness then?" Ace asked as we sat drinking tea. I decided that full disclosure was needed. "Well," I said, "I have to see Jack to let him down gently. I think that'll be easy because I've introduced him to three other kids our age and he's probably up to no good with them right now. You and King have been above board with me and I want to be honest with you. I want to spend time with Jack and the others because I don't think any of them are boyfriends in the emotional way that Robin and Oliver are ..." Ace interrupted to say "and because you want to fuck them. That's fine with me, I keep telling you. I don't mind how many boys you fuck as long as you come home afterwards. So what's the plan?" I thought about it. Today was 22 August. I had to expect that the fairy's gift would be good until the end of 31 August - that gave me 9 days after today. What did I want to do in that time that didn't involve Ace? I wanted more time with Steve on his own, but I wasn't telling Ace about that - some things are best not shared - and I wanted fuck time with Jack and Barry, and with Bob and Steve, in whatever combinations were likely to be available. I couldn't keep Dan out of my mind, not least because in the size department he and Ace might be interested in comparing notes. God knows how that might work, but I wanted to think about it. I was happy to let the opportunity of an afternoon's sin with my French friends slip by: I had better men to play with now. I was aware too that, despite King's attractiveness and sexual skills, it was Ace whom I loved and Ace who loved me. Knowing we had only a few days together it would have to be my job to see that the two of us had time together. That meant getting Ace away for a few days with just the two of us. King was, if nothing else, very sensitive to the emotional situation between Ace and me, and would be unlikely to play gooseberry, especially as there was no way he could know that our time together - my time here in 1957 - was so limited. "I think I need to phone Jack and fix up to meet him at his house in London. I'll do that when we get home." I would have to think about how I got Ace away somewhere. "OK," Ace said, "that's fine. You stayed the night there before - do you want to do that again?" I couldn't believe how generous and understanding this lovely man was. "Yes, one last time if you're sure you don't mind." "Jack, I've told you I don't mind about a thousand times: just try to believe me. Go and see Jack, and fuck him and make him happy and be happy yourself. Then come home to me and make me happy. It isn't difficult." My eyes were sparkling. "Let's go home now, Ace." We roared off. My heart sang as I clung to my lover, knowing that the coming days were going to be filled with joy. When we got home King wasn't around. "He's taken himself off to a fuck-in somewhere, I expect," said Ace, "it's what we do on a Sunday." "When will he be back?" "No idea. Could be any time, could be after midnight." "I hope it's later, 'cos I want snuggle time with you, just the two of us," I murmured, stroking the front of his leathers. As he stepped out of them the scent of man filled the room. Until that moment I hadn't realised that he had nothing on underneath his jacket and trousers apart from a leather jock strap. His body smelt gorgeous, his sweat a powerful aphrodisiac. I pushed him onto the bed and jumped onto him, seeking his hairless armpits and licking them as though my life depended on it. I knew we were going to have sex - urgent sex - any minute and, for the first time, I was going to be in control. Ace sensed this and let me go where my hormones took me. I ripped off my clothes as fast as I could: I'm naked and he's in his leather jock. My cock is hard; his is still hidden, but his jock is massively bulging. I'm licking every inch of his chest, his belly, his thighs; I'm down at his feet sucking each toe in turn; I'm slowly licking up his calves, up the inside of his thighs - "turn over, Ace" - I'm licking his arse cheeks, the small of his back; I'm lying on top of him, my cock squeezed between his cheeks; I'm nuzzling deep into his arse crack - the scent is driving me wild with lust; I'm licking, licking, licking - "pass me the lube, Ace" - my hand is lubed; a finger is in his arse, two, three - "more?" "Yeah" - more lube and ... my fist is in - "Aaaah, Jack! yesss" - my fist goes further in; my knuckles rotate over his prostate, over and over and - "Oh, fuuuuuuck!" - and Ace cums, spurt after spurt after spurt into his leather jock, his arse clenching on my fist with each spasm; my fist is out and clamped round my cock and I thrash myself to a big juicy cum all over Ace's back, like his, spurt after spurt and I collapse on his back into my cum and "oh fuck, Ace" and he says "yeah" and we both lie there panting. After a couple of minutes I reach down and lick up all my cum - none for him this time - and "turn over, Ace" - I very carefully ease his jock off his cock. I'm still as horny as fuck, even though I've just come, and the sight and smell of his cum in the jock and all over his gorgeous cock is irresistible. I gorged on his cock, still pretty hard, until it was clean; then I lapped up the still warm cum pooled in his jock. Ace sighed as he watched, "God, Jack, you are one kinky little bugger. Come here and share the feast." So I did. Our kiss lasted much longer than was strictly necessary for the swapping of a mouthful of his cum. It could have lasted for hours, but even though it wasn't that long it felt like it. My whole body was tingling with pleasure - my cock, my balls, my tongue, my lips, my soul. Ace was tingling with pleasure too. "I've had hundreds of fucks - thousands maybe - but I've never had a cum quite like that. Would you be willing to do that to King? He'd go wild." This was really strange. Of course I'd like to do that to King, but what I still couldn't get my head round was Ace's complete openness to sharing me, and allowing me to share. I knew that in a decade's time the Summer of Love in San Francisco would herald an era of sexual sharing like nothing since Roman times, but actually to meet, and love, someone who lived his life like that took some getting used to. "I'd love to, if you're happy. Maybe not just yet though. I need to recover." King's return was now more keenly awaited that it had been half an hour ago. ============================================================================== 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