Date: Sat, 1 Jul 2017 21:55:57 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Fourteen Again Chapter 56 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 56 The arrangements for the next few days being now in place the three of us spent about two seconds wondering what to do next. There being no obvious alternative to simply getting down to it, we all removed our clothes and piled onto Bob's bed. Jack's ginger pubes - always a turn-on - worked their usual trick on me, and my cock was hard well before either of the others. "My, you're quick," said Bob, whose cock was visibly stiffening at the thought of what we'd be up to, "what shall we do?" I kept quiet, wanting to let Bob and Jack decide on the plan. Jack spoke up. "I think each of us should fuck one of the others, and suck the other one. That way everybody gets a fuck and a suck as well." I admired his mathematical approach. "How will we decide which one to fuck and which one to suck?" asked Bob. "The boy that fucks me is the boy I'm going to suck," said Jack, "it's easy. All we need to decide is one thing, and the rest all follow." Bob said, "You've said nothing, Peter, so you choose. Do you want to fuck me or Jack?" I had no hesitation. "I've never fucked Bob, so that's what I'm choosing." "Now? The first thing?" "Yeah, why not. I want to get inside that arse of yours, Bob. Get the lube." Soon all was ready. Bob spread a bath towel on his bed and the lube was put ready. I could imagine Greg getting very excited at the prospect of what his cameras would reveal. Bob was used to having an audience, as I was now. I wondered if Jack knew - probably not: why would they tell him and run the risk of his never coming back? "On all fours, Bob," I said, "I want quality arse time before I fuck you." He got into position and I knelt behind him. "Jack, stand over him facing me and hold his arse cheeks apart," I ordered, "I want a good look at where I'm going adventuring." It was just another arse, of course, but because it was the arse to which I was going to devote much attention in the next quarter of an hour it became A Very Special Arse. Flawless, hairless, pink, winking a welcome. I licked up his crack from his balls and Bob shuddered. More licking, more shuddering. Next time the tongue lingered at the rosebud, licking round the target. The target opened slightly. "Mmm!" from the target's owner. Another couple of tongue swipes opened the rosebud a bit wider. A lubed finger slipped in all the way. "Mmmm! Another couple, Peter," I see, I thought, he wants fisted: he loved that last time, but this is for me, so I'll fist him, but no rotation on his prostate - I don't want him cumming until I've cum up him first. In go fingers two and three, with sighs of content coming from the other end. Fingers out, lots of lube, fist formed, fist inserted ... slowly, slowly, all the way just like King fucked me that first time ... hold it steady ... "oh, fuck, Peter, that's good" ... fist out fast and sudden ... lubed fist wrapped round my cock which - WHAM! - is thrust all the way in, causing Bob to lurch forward onto his front. Luckily I was prepared for this, so my cock remained embedded in him. I grabbed his hips and lifted them slightly off the bed. His shoulders and knees are on his bed; I'm deep inside him; he's moaning happily and calling upon his Maker. It seems I am being instructed to proceed, and indeed to proceed with all haste. So I start the fucking process. I was sufficiently turned on by all this, and by his excitement, translated somehow not just into my ears, but into my cock through some strange arse-cock mechanism, that I spurted my cum up into him after about 15 seconds. I did not remain silent while I did this, adding no doubt to Greg's joy. My cumming so swiftly meant that Bob hadn't cum yet. The plan was that Jack would suck Bob's cock, and he, being the mathematician, had worked this out and was ready. "Whip it out, Peter, and Bob'll turn over so I can get him off." This wasn't precisely what I wanted - I like letting my cock soften while it's still up the hot moist arse I've just fucked, but I was happy to go along with Jack's urgency to get his lips round Bob's still hard cock, so, as requested, I whipped it out. "Aaaah!", of regret, I trust, from Bob, immediately followed - as he turned over - by "aaah!" of delight as Jack took his urgent cock into his soft mouth, sucking, licking, sucking ... receiving jets of hot cum from Bob, who lasted about as long as I had ... swallowing ... licking the final drops. "Wow!" said Bob. "Two down and four to go," I said, to show the mathematician that I could count too. The mathematician was the only one who hadn't come yet, so he was keen to find a receptacle in which to do so. Would it be my arse, or my mouth? "Come on Peter," he said, "I want your mouth round my cock." This was fine by me: I could suck him off soon after coming myself without any difficulty. The first round had been very fast for both of us; I wanted this to be drawn out. "OK," I said, "lie down on your back and stretch your arms and legs as far apart as you can - like a big X. Bob, can you lie beside Jack's head and smooch?" I had never kissed Bob, but I'd seen him give Dan a quick kiss the other day, so I didn't think he's have a problem with a tonsil job with Jack. Jack beamed, suggesting to me that he'd never kissed Bob either, and was keen to try it. Bob didn't demur from my suggestion, and laid himself down at right angles to Jack's body, with his lips already glued to Jack's. Jack's cock, with its halo of gorgeous ginger pubes, was hard and eager. I bent down. I've described my cock-sucking technique often enough already, and Jack had been on the receiving end a few times. I did what I always do: licking from his balls to the tip of his cock, concentrating on his fraenum - you know how it goes. Now and again I lifted his legs onto my shoulders, allowing me to reach (just) his arsehole. It got a good licking, but his cock was insistent. Precum was leaking copiously - that's the real benefit of long and slow foreplay, as distinct from the urgent fucking I'd done earlier. Each has its place, of course. I mentioned the precum to Bob, who left Jack's mouth long enough to lick some up - quite a lot, actually - and return to Jack's mouth with a morsel to share. Jack was finding it impossible to lie still, what with the intense kissing from Bob and the impending orgasm his balls were winding up to. "Mmmmmph!" from Jack told me that he was near ... and ... "aaaah! oh fuck!" (hard to be certain, given that Bob's mouth was still clamped over Jack's) Jack came gloriously into my mouth. I do love the taste of his spunk. As the other two mouths were happily engaged in gnawing each other I kept Jack's offering to myself, slowly rolling it over my tongue and savouring every last essence. Magic! Bob unclamped himself. "I haven't kissed anyone like that before," he said, "not that hard anyway." "Like it?" I asked. He grinned, "you bet. Jack's a great kisser!" This looked like being a happy little band of brothers when I was a million miles away at the end of the month. No worries there. We were half-way through our mini-orgy and that other famous teenage appetite became urgent: food. "Food," said Bob loudly, and we dragged our clothes back on. I knew that Greg would have something for us, warned as he had been by Bob's shout. We dawdled, and by the time we got down to the kitchen Greg was busying himself, giving a casual observer the idea that he had been preparing lunch all the time. "Hungry, boys?" he enquired, all innocent. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," I said, "although that would be a bigger challenge than I'm used to." Greg grinned, "A chestnut, maybe, you'd like that, I think." One day, I said to myself, I must get Greg on his own and have a serious talk - but I know this won't happen. If he wasn't so creepy he'd be quite fun, I think. We bent to the enjoyable task of refuelling ourselves. "Did you have any luck with the shopping, Greg?" I asked. "I wondered when you'd ask. Yes, I got it yesterday. When are you coming to see it?" "Not today, Greg, it'll take too long to rig up. How about Thursday? If I ask nicely maybe Bob'll let me stay here on Wednesday night" (Bob nodded vigorously) "and Steve and I can give it a test run on Thursday." Bob rolled his eyes heavenward, but said nothing. Jack didn't notice any of this as he was still scoffing seconds of treacle pudding. The week was planning out nicely. "Thanks, Greg, that was smashing," I said, keen to reinforce my 14-year-old credentials, "and thanks for the shopping. Did I give you enough?" "You gave me too much, but I bought one or two things which I think you'll like. You'll see them on Thursday, and until then my lips are sealed." This last said with a very queeny swish. I wonder what goodies he had got for us. Kinky, most likely - good! Full of lunch we trooped back up to Bob's love nest. None of us felt much like doing anything too energetic, so we slumped, as 14-year-olds do, and talked about everything under the sun. An hour passed and our minds returned to the reason for our being there. There was still no sign of Steve. Next up, we decided, was Bob fucking Jack. I reclined in Roman style to watch them at it. It was interesting to be a spectator with no expectations that I would be called upon to join in. Bob decided that Jack should be on his back: I prefer fucking this way if I care about the guy I'm fucking - I get to see his face. If all I'm there for is filling an arse with cock, then doing it from behind gets me further in. This way had the advantage for me that a spectator would get to see both faces. Bob lubed up and set to work. He didn't spend much time getting Jack ready - a couple of minutes of finger-work at most - before he teased Jack's waiting arsehole with the tip of his cock. Jack's face was tense up to this point, but as Bob slowly pushed in Jack's face relaxed and he smiled. "This is great, Bob, fill me up with your fat cock." I said this kind of thing, and countless guys had said it to me, but hearing it from the audience, as it were, it sounded odd. I didn't think these two had a boyfriend relationship - why should they? - but clearly Bob filled a huge gap in Jack's life simply by being another boy who was happy to spend time with him. The fucking was a bonus - a big one, true, but the friendship was pretty important. And what went for Bob would go for Steve and Barry too. And given the 'holy fucking hell' it might include the mighty Dan as well. Bob is concentrating too hard, I think. This isn't a competition. What matters is that the two of them enjoy what they're doing, or having done to them. Jack, on the other hand, is as relaxed as you can be while being fucked. He's smiling, his eyes are closed, he's concentrating all his mind on the erotic sensations generated deep inside his arse by the rhythmic thrusting of another boy's cock, knowing that soon the thrusting will get more urgent, faster, and that a hot lava-flow of teen spunk will gush up into him. Will he feel the gushing? He doesn't know - he hopes so, because he's felt that when I've fucked him and ... oh! ... oh! ... Bob's there and Bob's cock is pulsing, pulsing and - YES! he did feel the spunk coating his guts and oh! God! he needs to cum now and he puts his hand on his cock and wanks himself and - ooof! - his own cum flies out of his cock onto his belly past his gorgeous ginger pubes and, his eyes still tight shut, he feels me leap over to lick his cum up and I'm kissing him and he can taste his cum and he says "Oh! Christ! this is so fucking great." He opens his eyes and we gaze at each other. "That was good, kid," I say. "Mmmm." Bob, who has done all the work, is temporarily excluded from our emotional little duo. I'm going to be involved in both of the final scenes in our afternoon performance. Jack will fuck me - that's the best part as far as I'm concerned, and as he's only just come, it'll not happen for an hour or so. Before then Bob will suck me off and I'll come in his mouth. Not just yet though. We must give Greg time to change his film, or whatever he does. "What's Steve up to?" I asked Bob. "He's gone to see a pal of his in Enfield," he said. "He's very secretive about what they get up to. It may be what he does with you, but I don't think so. If it was he'd have said something. I don't mind, by the way, you and he can do what you like. It's just that it's not something that I want to join in with." "That's fine, Bob," I said, "I understand. It's not everyone's cup of tea. I wonder what they do if it's not that." Jack was curious. "You're all being very coy," he said, "what is it that you and Steve do that Bob doesn't?" No point in telling a lie, I thought. If I do and Steve tells him some time (and in Steve's shoes I would be looking for a new playmate once August is finished and I'm no longer around) then he'll think me a complete shit. Bob felt under no obligation to spare anyone's feelings, however. "They like playing with each other's shit," he said. Jack was stunned, but said nothing. I could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as he digested this new information. "Anyway," went on Bob, unaware of Jack's reaction, "that's fine, but it's not my idea of fun. That's why I came over to your place last week, and why I'm coming again on Thursday. OK?" Jack nodded. I was still wondering what Steve got up to in Enfield. Maybe I'd find out on Thursday. Bob noticed that this conversation had caused my cock to harden again. "This pervert's cock likes shit talk - look at it!" and he knelt down and took me in his mouth. Bob's sucking, like his fucking, wasn't particularly imaginative today, but he coaxed me to a nice orgasm and swallowed what I unloaded into him. I gave him a thank-you kiss, but my spunk had gone before I put my lips to his, Ah well! The cream on the cookie was still to come: a nice fucking from my beloved Jack: the first boy I'd met this month, and the one for whom our chance meeting (a nicer way of saying 'my seduction') at Kings Cross had made the biggest change. I decided that Jack was going to be one of the happy ones in life. His metamorphosis from lonely caterpillar to outgoing energetic (and sexually active) butterfly was a delight to see. I was going to spend tonight with him, and tomorrow we'd visit Barry. My time with Jack would end soon, and I'd miss him. But not yet! This would the third time I'd be fucked by Jack. The first time he fucked me was the first time he'd fucked anybody, and I'd had to tell him what to do. He was on his back and I lowered myself onto his cock. The second time it was part of a three-way session with Barry in Slave mode, and in the space of two hours the multiple orgasms were so closely packed that - to my shame - I couldn't remember exactly how we'd done it. This time I wanted to be fucked face-to-face with Jack on top. I wanted him to be in charge while I just relaxed and enjoyed being penetrated. Just about every skill Jack had he had learned from me, and I wanted to enjoy the results, hoping that they would include ideas which his other sex partners had used on him. As soon as he started it was clear that Jack was going to be a considerate lover. He spent several minutes kissing me deeply and passionately, occasionally stroking my cock to make sure it was still there, but going no further. Then he moved down to where the action would be, and gently, gently licked my perineum. After a few minutes I felt a lubed finger teasing the outside of the arse lips - the merest whisper of a touch, gone before it had really started. Then another ... and another, never more than fleeting. I wondered who had taught him that one: it was working a treat on me, as I was desperate to have something - anything - up inside me. Jack knew perfectly well, of course, and wasn't going to oblige me any time soon. The fleeting touches gradually became longer-lasting, but still no penetration. I could feel my arse lips extending, begging something to satisfy their need: every nerve ending in my arse was screaming for more contact. At last, after a good ten minutes of exquisite torture, a finger went in - not far, only about the second knuckle, but the feeling it aroused nearly made me cum, so pent-up was I down there. Luckily Jack realized that he'd got me boiling nicely and that much more delay would not be wise - after all, we had all night to perfect this - so with a small sigh he murmured, "I won't let you off the hook so quickly next time" and removed his finger. Immediately in went the whole of his rigid cock, hard, deep, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting ... "cumming!" ... squirting, squirting, filling my arse with his hot spunk and I'm cumming too with the thrill of feeling him gushing into me. All up my belly. Bob pounced. "God! that was hot; I haven't seen anyone fuck like that." My cum disappeared into Bob's mouth - the second of my loads he'd had that day. Utterly spent the three of us collapsed onto Bob's by now rather messy bed. I imagine Greg's underwear would also be requiring the attentions of a launderer - and repeatedly no doubt as he watched us over and over again. Twenty minutes later it was time to clean up, and we spent a happy sensual, but not sexual, twenty minutes in the shower soaping each other, and helping with those hard-to-reach bits round the back. Jack and I left, reminding Bob that we would be back on Wednesday with Dan, and telling him to make damn sure that Steve was there too. "Remind Steve not to eat meat," I told Bob, "lots of vegetables and fibre." "You are disgusting, the pair of you," said Bob, but as always he said it without rancour. A tolerant lad, was Bob. Jack and I were back at his place. Polly had prepared 'something special', as she put it, but not knowing when we were likely to be back it wouldn't be ready for an hour, "but I'm sure you two can amuse yourselves until then?" We could, and we did, and, no, penises were not involved. We did what 14-year-olds do - we played games. We talked. We spent an hour doing nothing very much, and thoroughly enjoyed being uncomplicated teenagers for a while. After all, there's more to life than fucking, especially when you're doing as much fucking as we were. The 'something special' turned out to be roast duck - something of a rarity in 1957, especially in suburban North London. Polly has really come up trumps, and the really special bit was that she'd provided half a bottle of claret. "I know you're both far too young to be drinking wine, but I know you're both sensible, and a glass each won't kill you. It's time you were allowed to grow up a bit and try adult things." Of course Jack blushed - he really will have to get over this: it's a dead give-away. I grinned. "This is a treat, Polly. It's nice to be grown up." The duck was delicious. The claret was pretty good too, and I was pleased to see that Jack drank it sensibly, tasting it rather than gulping it. Come to think of it he took his claret much like he took the cum that he was offered: in small savoured quantities, enjoying the flavour in his mouth before swallowing. I knew that after duck would come fuck. And so it came to pass. ============================================================================== badboi666 is now on holiday for a week, and won't be posting Chapter 57 until next weekend. By then the duck will be digested and the anticipation of the ensuing fuck will be worth the wait. On holiday, but not out of touch. Keep the comments flowing! 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