Let us hereby declare that anyone reading this takes full responsibility for their actions. And if you don’t know what sort of stuff you’re going to be reading by now, well, words fail me.
Toby’s life at school seems to be getting better all the time; he might even start enjoying it soon. So read on and enjoy! Feedback is always welcome, as if you didn’t know. Please send your comments to firstname.lastname@example.org and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
TOBY’S STORY ; CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Being with Ian is great and it’s not just the sex. After working hard all day, spending ten or fifteen minutes alone with him is exactly what I need, even if we spend most of it chatting and cuddling. He’s bright, he’s funny and he makes me feel good about myself. I still don’t know why he picked me the way he did, but I’m certainly not complaining. Of course, the sex is, like, something else. He always wants me to bum him and I’m not going to say no, now am I? What a cute kid! I never expected him to be like that; he’s amazing.
He’s down on all fours. I’ve been pounding his arse for the best part of five minutes, fondling his stubby little dick at the same time. He moans quietly, spurring me on to even greater efforts. He’s getting close; I can feel it. A moment later he bucks violently, his bum tightening around my cock. Within a few seconds I’m there too. Instinctively, I slam right into him. My cock jerks into action, my spunk spurting over and over into his cute little bum. Oh yeah! That’s one thing I’ll never tire of doing!
I slowly pull out. He flips himself over, grinning up at me.
“Tobeee!” he breathes. “That was fantastic; I love having you inside me!”
“Any time you want,” I tell him, grinning back. “So would you be on for another foursome then?”
“Yeah, of course I would!” he says, starting to get back into his clothes. “You mean with Craig and Dominic again?”
“Uh-uh,” I say, “Rob and Peter.”
“Who’s Peter?” he asks.
“Peter Cranham in third year; he’s Rob’s boy.”
“Oh, right,” he says. “Well that’s cool. When?”
“Friday evening, meet outside the art room at half past seven, okay?”
“Yes, sure,” he says. “We must have a foursome with Max and Gavin sometime. Would you like that?”
“Maybe,” I say guardedly. “I don’t want too many people knowing about the trunk store, that’s all.”
“Oh, well I’ll see you Friday then,” he says,
He gives me a beautiful kiss and makes his way down from the attic. I finish getting dressed. I’m glad he didn’t push the idea of a foursome with Max and Gavin. Now don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of fucking Gavin a lot, but Max just isn’t someone I have a lot of time for. You might be surprised by that because he’s something of a rebel in his own way. But his idea of rebelling is to drop out, and that’s not my style at all. I want to do things, change things, make things happen. Dropping out never got anyone anywhere.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Really good teachers command your attention; that’s what Mr. Randall does. In most other classes you can switch off if you want to, but not in his; you can’t let your attention wander for a moment.
“Right, gentlemen,” he says. “We’ve been studying the Gospels for several weeks now. Today, I want to pause for a while. I want you to think about what you’ve learned, then ask yourself what sort of a man Jesus was.”
There’s an uneasy silence; nobody wants to be the first to speak.
“So let me ask you,” he continues, “was he posh?”
He canvasses a few of the kids. Rob and Dominic are fairly sure he wasn’t; Idiot Face doesn’t know and Craig doesn’t seem too sure either.
“Of course he wasn’t!” Mr Randall explodes. “For all anyone knew at the time, he was a carpenter’s son from some two-horse town up in the hills in Galilee; of course he wasn’t posh! So how d’you think he’d have spoken?”
“A bit rough,” William suggests.
“Maybe,” he responds. “What d’you think, Toby?”
“Very ordinary and down to Earth,” I say.
“I think that’s right,” he says. “In the main, the people that came to listen to him were just ordinary, working people, and they came because he spoke in a way that they understood. Anything else? What about his accent?”
“He spoke with a Galilean accent,” Justin says.
“And how d’you know that?” he asks.
“After Jesus was arrested he was taken to the house of the High Priest,” Justin responds. “Peter followed, and stood warming himself by the fire outside. Some of the people there said that they could tell he was one of Jesus’ followers because of the way he spoke, like a Galilean.”
I have to stop myself giggling. Justin’s a really good kid, a great laugh, but his dad’s Dean of Salisbury Cathedral, which is one step away from being a bishop. Justin knows this stuff inside out. Man, that is so weird!
“Excellent!” Mr. Randall says, clearly impressed. “So what did Jesus think of the Jewish establishment, you know, the scribes and the Pharisees and the regular rabbis that taught in the synagogues?”
Even I know the answer to this one. I put my hand up.
“Well, Toby?” Mr. Randall says.
“He was very critical of them,” I say.
“He certainly was!” he agrees. “Think about what he called them: ‘you blind guides’, ‘you bunch of hypocrites’, ‘you brood of vipers’, ‘like whited sepulchres, all clean on the outside, all rotting corruption within’. That’s pretty strong stuff; it’s not surprising they didn’t like him much, is it? So they used to turn up where he was preaching and try to trip him up. Then what happened?”
“They couldn’t,” Dominic says.
“Of course they couldn’t!” Mr. Randall says. “He was far too good for them. And it didn’t stop there.”
He refers us to a passage where Jesus and his followers went to the Temple. Jesus made a whip out of cords and began throwing out all the traders and money-changers.
“So how d’you think that went down?” he asks.
“The traders would have been furious,” Rob says.
“You bet they would!” Mr. Randall says. “So all the top establishment people, you know the priests of the Temple, the senior rabbis and so on got together to discuss what they should do about this man who was upsetting their cosy little world. And what did they decide?”
“They decided to have him killed,” Craig answers.
“That’s right,” Mr. Randall says. “They did what authoritarian regimes always do when someone comes along threatening the status quo; they decided to get rid of him. They’d arrest him on trumped up charges, put on a show trial and have him executed.” He turns to me. “So if you’re looking for a real rebel leader, someone who was prepared to stand up to the establishment and speak out against injustice, even at the risk of his own life, you don’t need to look much further.”
I can’t help admiring this guy; he’s got me again. I can’t argue with a word he’s said. But more than that, I admire his passion, his enthusiasm and the way he never talks down to us like most teachers do. I still don’t believe in God, but I can’t just dismiss it as a load of nonsense any more, and that’s down to him. He’s made me think. Man, he is good!
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It’s morning break. I go for a piss then make my way out of the building. As I head out onto the playground, Peter and Selwyn are waiting for me.
“We’ve got something to tell you,” Peter says. “Well, Selwyn has. Not here though; is there somewhere we can go?”
“Let’s go to my dorm,” I say. “There won’t be anyone there now.”
I lead the way and usher them inside. We sit on my bed.
“You know when you told Peter to go and snitch on me?” Selwyn says. “Halford said he was going to write to my parents. Well, this morning he called me into his office. He’d still got the letter, said he must have forgotten to send it. He said I’d been behaving much better recently and asked me if I thought he still needed to send it. I said I didn’t think he did. He asked me if I was sure, ‘cause he wouldn’t want to rip it up then have to write another one in a few weeks time. So I said I was sure and he ripped it up and threw it in the bin.”
Halford amazes me; sometimes he can be an absolute bastard, other times he does stuff like that. I don’t get it.
“That’s cool, man,” I say. “But he didn’t forget, did he? He never forgets anything.”
“No,” he says shaking his head. “I think mum must have spoken to him, told him about what’s been happening at home. Peter told you about what was happening with my dad?”
“Yeah, I was worried,” I tell him. “I thought that might have been why he beat you at half term.”
“Nah, it was just ‘cause he got drunk. It’s always when he’s drunk.”
“So how long has it been going on?” I ask.
“A year or so,” he says, looking at the floor.
“That’s bad, man!” I say. “You shouldn’t have to put up with that. Doesn’t your mum do anything?”
“She tries, but when he’s like that she can’t really stop him. He usually says sorry afterwards but sometimes he was too drunk to even remember he did it.”
“You should tell someone,” I say. “Go to the police, show them the marks. He could get put in jail for beating you like that.”
“I can’t do that!” he says. “If he got put in jail he’d lose his job too; then what’d happen to us? Mum hasn’t worked since before I was born. I’ve got two younger sisters; Claire’s only four. We’d lose the house, everything. I might even get put in a kids’ home.”
“Shit,” I say. “I’m sorry, man; I don’t know what you can do. But if things are getting bad and you want a chat any time, I’m here, okay?”
“You’re cool,” he says, grinning. “I need to say thanks anyway.”
“What for?” I ask.
“For doing what you did. It made me stop behaving like an idiot.”
“Well, it has to be hard dealing with that. I don’t get on with my dad, but he’s never hit me or anything.”
“Yeah, but what I was doing still wasn’t right, was it, taking it out on other kids?” he says. “And it was just making things worse. I lost all my mates, well everyone except Grant; it was stupid.”
“So how’s Grant getting on?” I ask.
“He’s okay,” Selwyn says, sounding non-committal. “He was really upset after what you and Rob made him do. His problem is that he thinks he’s useless. That’s what his mum and dad tell him; so do the teachers.”
“Well, he shouldn’t think that,” I say. “He’s the biggest kid in third year, isn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Selwyn concedes.
“He’s pretty strong too, from what I hear, “I continue. “He could get into the school rugby team next year if he put his mind to it. He’d have to work at it, gym training and that, and he’d have to be more careful about what he eats instead of just stuffing his face with sweets and crisps the whole time. But he could do it if he wanted to.”
“Oh,” Selwyn says. “I never thought of that.”
The bell sounds for the end of break.
“Well, we’d better be going,” I say, “Thanks for telling me. And remember what I said, okay?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he says. “I will.”
We make our way out and head to our next class.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It’s dead on half past seven when I reach the art room. Rob and Ian are already there.
“Where’s Peter?” I ask.
“Oh, he’ll be here,” Rob says casually. “Punctuality isn’t one of his strong points.”
I pace the corridor nervously; I hate being kept waiting. A minute or so later Peter comes scuttling along. We walk the few yards to the trunk store. I let us in and lock the door from the inside. Unlike the foursome with Dom and Craig, this time Rob and I have got it all planned out. I set to work on Peter while he starts on Ian. I help Peter off with his sweater and unbutton his shirt. He takes it off and drops it on the floor.
“Are we getting naked?” he asks.
“Oh yeah” I say, grinning at him.
“Cool!” he responds. “That’s what we did last week when I came here with Rob.”
He eagerly returns the favour, his fingers pulling at my shirt buttons. Within a few seconds we’re both naked from the waist up. Peter might not be the cutest kid in third year, but he’s got a great body, slim without being skinny; I like that. I’m surprised he’s not more into sport than he is. We kick off our shoes. He reaches forward, undoes the clip at the top of my shorts and pulls down the zip. I wiggle my hips so that they fall round my ankles. I step out of them. Now it’s my turn. I suck in a breath. Peter’s legs look pretty good in his school shorts; in just his tight white briefs they are perfect, and he’s got the most beautiful arse. It’s no wonder Rob likes bumming him so much.
His cock’s sticking right up in the front of his briefs, clearly quite a good size for an eleven year old. I reach forward and pull them down. Oh yes! Almost four inches, fairly slim and uncut, his foreskin just covering the tip; that is a nice one! His balls are quite large too, though still pulled up tight in their sac. This is going to be more fun than I thought. I kneel down in front of him, examining him closely. There’s not a trace of hair on him, the same as me, I guess. I flick out my tongue, licking all over his cock. Yeah, that is a nice one! I take it into my mouth, sucking it right down to the base. It’s the perfect size for me; I could suck it all day.
I take the KY out of my shorts and smear it over my fingers. I run my hand up between Peter’s legs and along his crack. I reach his bum-hole, tickling it for a couple of seconds. I don’t have to push. Peter flexes his knees, sitting back on my finger. It goes right up him. I hit his prostate, his cock twitching in my mouth. I glance to my left. Ian and Rob are both naked. Rob’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Ian’s kneeling in front of him, sucking him off. He’s taking Rob’s cock right down his throat. Man, that is something else! In front of me, Peter’s stroking my hair, pumping his cock into my mouth while fucking himself on my finger. Man! That is hot! His breathing gets harsh and uneven. He pushes my head right down, his cock jerking powerfully in my mouth. After a few seconds he lets me go and carefully pulls out.
“That was good, man!” I say, grinning up at him. “You’ll be able to cum soon.”
I get to my feet. He pulls my briefs down. Without waiting to be asked he’s down on his knees with my cock in his mouth. He’s good too, just like Rob told me, working his tongue all over it, his fingers caressing my balls. I look across at the bed. Ian’s down on all fours with Rob’s finger up his arse. I wonder how he’ll react to having Rob’s dick up there. Well, we’ll soon find out. I’m starting to get close.
“You’d better stop now,” I say quietly. “I don’t want to cum yet.”
Peter pulls off, grinning and licking his lips. Man, he is sexy! I nod to Rob.
“Time to do it, man,” I say.
He gets off the bed and helps me move the trunk into the middle of the floor. I get Ian bent over one side of the trunk while Rob bends Peter over the other, the two younger kids in the same positions that Dom and I occupied just a few months ago. Rob and I grin at each other.
“Count of three,” I mouth. “One, two, three!”
At the same instant we each stick it up our boy. We start to fuck. I look across. Rob always looks very athletic, but standing there with his dick thrusting in and out of Peter’s bum he looks unbelievable. It’s getting me so steamed up I’ll cum before I want to if I’m not careful. I’ve got to film them doing that! We’ve only been going for a minute or so and I’m already getting close. I look across at Rob.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
As arranged we both pull out.
“Just stay where you are,” I whisper in Ian’s ear.
Rob and I change places. I give the signal and we’re off again. The look on Ian’s face, the mixture of pain and pleasure as he gets Rob’s big one up him, is unforgettable. But right now I’ve got something else to concentrate on. My cock’s being gripped tight my Peter’s hot little arse and I’m going to give him what he needs. I build up the pace, bumming him as hard as I can, Peter’s moans and gasps telling me how much he’s enjoying it. I reach down and play with his dick, hard as iron and throbbing like crazy. He shudders violently, dry-cumming for the second time in barely five minutes. He’s taken me right over the edge. I give him the whole thing, the spunk unloading over and over into his firm, round bum. On the other side of the trunk Rob’s cumming too, his body covered in a sheen of perspiration. After a few seconds we both pull out. Man! That was wild!
Our younger friends stand up. Ian’s looking a bit uncomfortable.
“Are you okay?” I whisper in his ear.
“I’m a bit sore,” he says. “Rob fucks really hard. He cums a lot too, doesn’t he? I’m all messy.”
“Yeah,” I say.
I drop down behind him. His bum’s bright red. Rob’s spunk is leaking out and trickling down his legs. I use some cotton wool to gently clean him up, slipping a fresh piece into his underpants as he pulls them on.
“I think I’ll stick with you,” he says, giving me a little grin. “You’re the one I really like.”
Well, I can’t argue with that.