Date: Thu, 23 Apr 2020 07:56:17 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 55 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== 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 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 55 Monday came - so did Edward and I - followed by Thursday and ... you get the picture. Mondays and Thursdays were never less than delightful (to both of us), nor did they become routine, for in that first couple of weeks before poor poxy Gordon's return we were nowhere near exhausting the various ways in which a man of 18 and a boy of 12 might please each other. Lest you should be wondering though: all that came out of our cocks (apart from appetising quantities of precum) was good old-fashioned spunk. I had resolved to be very patient about other possibilities, for until I was certain that a suggestion of that kind might be welcome - or if not welcome, then certainly curiosity-stimulating - I was happy to tread very slowly with Edward. His versatility and sheer animal sexiness made each Monday and Thursday afternoon entirely satisfactory without exotic variations. One Thursday two weeks into term he told me that Gordon was back. "Got here this morning. Seems fine now, but like a cat on hot bricks." "How do you mean?" "He said he hasn't had a wank for three weeks and promised that tonight we should be treated to a volcanic experience." "Those were his words?" (We were resting after Round One, he in my arms as usual, his head on my chest.) "No. What he actually said was 'I haven't come since this fucking thing started 'cos I felt lousy at first, then I didn't feel like it, and when I did my bloody brother was in the same room 'cos he fucking got it.' I can't see why that would stop him wanking - it's not as though his brother hasn't got a cock." "How old's the brother?" "9, I think." "Well there you are then. Poor Gordon is suffering from big-brother-can't-set-a-bad-example-itis. It can be very troublesome." Edward chuckled. "You may be right, Dab. Still, tonight will be worth it, I'm sure." "You all wank in bed then?" "Course. Not a lot of spunk though. Most of them are still dry, only Gordon, me and three others can shoot. But tonight Gordon will hit the fucking ceiling." I had been somewhat dilatory in my Chapel attendance since coming up, for the last thing I wanted was to establish a daily presence. Edward and I had discussed this, he saying that he didn't blame me, and I saying that while seeing him - and the shrimp - each day was stimulating to the soul, seeing him unshrouded was a lot nicer. He had snuggled even closer when I said that. "Yeah," he murmured, "I like it better too." So we had agreed that I would attend once a week on a Sunday so that I could get my fill of them being all angelic, and to allow for any contact to be made after. Edward told me that Colin was in the habit of repairing to licensed premises with the choir men after Matins. "'Thirsting after righteousness', he calls it", Edward explained. "What do the boys do?" "Nothing - nothing fixed, that is. Lunch isn't until 1.15 and God's finished with us by just after 12. Why?" "Why don't you and I thirst after righteousness too? I'm sure we can be confident of nourishing liquids being available." Edward's grin appeared. "Yeah," he whispered, "you bet, Dab. We can have plenty of time." So it was that Sunday's routine became established from the word go. The Sunday after Gordon's return was the first time I had seen him since February. As far as I could tell his face was unmarked by his experience, and his blond head looked even more luscious than it had nine months earlier. The shrimp was no longer next to Edward, but had his back to me. A different treble was clearly in charge of him now. I looked a question at Edward, my eyes flicking towards Gordon, and my cock gave a lurch when I saw a small nod. Drinks for three, then. By the time there was a single knock shortly after midday I was in a high old state of excitement. Edward and Gordon practically fell over themselves getting in, much to my amusement. "Are you still getting over your monumental cum from last night, Gordon?" I asked. Gordon blushed - always a pretty sight in a blond. "How did you know, Dab?" I told him that Edward's description of what was expected had left me in no doubt that something memorable would be on the cards, for I remembered Stubbs and his fine demonstration so many years earlier. "Did it reach the ceiling?" Gordon thought probably not quite, "but it was the biggest cum I've ever done." "You won't be ready for another then," said Edward cruelly, "so you can just watch." "Fuck you, Edward," said Gordon happily, "Dab will make sure he sees what you lot saw last night." Too right, I thought, although I would rather taste it than see it. Still, there was no need to tell either of them that - not yet, anyway. "So, what's the plan, boys? How long have we got?" Edward said that they would need to be out of my door, showered and dressed, by 1.05 at the latest. It was then 12.10, so we had 40 minutes in bed if they were to shower and seem angelic at lunch. Edward was keen to exert bragging rights over Gordon, and spent no time (while all three of us were stripping) in telling the poor boy what he and I had got up to in his absence. Gordon was quick to point out that it was only fair that he should be afforded every opportunity of catching up, "and that means just me and Dab a good few times without you." Edward hadn't seen that coming. "That's what comes of bragging," I said, "here's my idea. Gordon comes to visit on Mondays at 4 - you're free then, I take it, as Edward has been?" Gordon nodded vigorously. "OK, and you, boastful Edward, come on Thursdays, and both of you come on Sundays. Agreed?" Edward glared at Gordon, whose return glare was equally ferocious. "Or I could just do without altogether," I said. Amity was instantly achieved, and Gordon indicated that the massive cum he'd had the night before, "and the biggie I'm going to have any minute," would be excellent forerunners to the "fucking enormous one I'm going to have with you tomorrow, Dab." "Ones," I murmured. "Ones," agreed Gordon, "can we get on with it now?" By mutual consent Gordon got first dibs at my cock, feasting upon it with all the restraint of a newly-born calf. Edward smiled a superior sort of smile and - we were all on the bed by this time, I on my back - knelt on my chest, offering his hard cock to my lips. "Go on, Dab, you know you can't resist." I licked it - his foreskin was retracted and the wet innocence of the thing wrought its usual magic: a combination of a musky, slightly pissy smell (always a delight, as you know) - was there a trace of first-thing-in-the-morning spunk? - and the gorgeous promise of what his balls would soon produce. "Before we go too far, Gordon down there, do you want me to fuck you?" "Mmm." "If that was 'yes' don't make me cum then, because I want the first cum to be up your arse. There's always tomorrow." "Mmm," but he eased off a bit and contented himself with licking rather than trying to suck my cock down his throat. "I need to do it in your mouth, Dab," said Edward, accepting that he was unlikely to get fucked. "OK, but make it swift if I'm to have a chance of giving both your arses what they need." Edward's face brightened considerably - a fuck might be on the cards after all - and he helped things along (once my lips were round his cock) by wanking. "You can fuck me first next time," he panted - for he was closer than I had thought, "and Gordon gets a long one ... aaah!" and a jet of 12-year-old spunk shot over my tongue ... and another ... and another. "Oh fuck, Dab," but that was all he could say before rolling off to one side, "go on, Gordon's waited long enough. Get it in there and welcome him back." It wasn't the most romantic invitation for a fuck, but neither Gordon nor I cared greatly. Gordon crawled up the bed and lay on top of me. We kissed for a minute or two. "It's good to be back," he whispered, "can we really do this as often as that?" "Of course we can. Just make damn sure no-one sees you coming up here, or finds out. Edward knows the drill. Now how do you want it?" He answered by rolling off me and lying on his back, his knees by his ears. "Guess!" he whispered. "Better make sure he's clean," said Edward helpfully. He was. I made very sure. He was also well-lubricated - had they had grease up their arses throughout Chapel? (No, I learned. Grease had been inserted in the choir bogs after the removal of surplices and gowns.) I climbed aboard and Gordon let me in. 'Let' doesn't really do it justice: 'kidnapped' might be better. "Aaah!" he groaned as inch by inch my cock found its way in the dark, "that's the first cock I've had in since last term." "Good thing it hasn't healed up," said cruel Edward. "No fear of that now though, is there," retorted the owner of the not-healed-up-and-now-being-fucked arse. I didn't last as long as I would have liked. It was, after all, only the second time I had fucked him. Still, tomorrow would be a more leisurely affair. Thus after less than ten minutes Gordon's arse was filled with Cunliffe spunk and his tongue and mine were busy bonding. It was a pleasant surprise to feel Edward's tongue seeking to explore my arse - "mmm, yes," I muttered - and as my business with Gordon was done I eased back, allowing Edward better access to my arse while I bent over Gordon's cock - that famous and recent deliverer of the biggest cum of its life. He sighed deeply - as you do when you're 12 and you've just been fucked and your cock is being sucked by the best cocksucker it has encountered. (Cocks, especially while in someone's mouth, are notoriously fickle when it comes to comparing the skill of the mouth doing it RIGHT NOW to the skill of any mouths fortunate enough to have been encountered in the past.) Gordon was away somewhere else; I was in my element with one 12-year-old's cock in my mouth and another 12-year-old's tongue questing hungrily round my arsehole; Edward, to judge from the moans he was making, was happy in his work too. Then Gordon groaned and I felt again the hot urgent joy of a boy coming unrestrained in my mouth. "Yesss! Oh ... oh ... aaah!", the last being a sigh of contentment. "Better than last night, Gordon?" "Mmm. Not as big, but in a nicer place." I kissed him again. "Is that my spunk?" "Who else's?" "Mmm. I quite like it." "Haven't you tasted it before?" I said. He shook his head. Something for the morrow, I decided. Gordon and I needed quality time where Edward wasn't a witness to anything the boy might be unwilling to show ignorance of. Edward was still busy and although I was enjoying it I knew that time was ticking on. I looked at the clock by the bedside - 12.40. There wasn't time to do anything penetrative for Edward, so I took hold of him by the waist and turned him round to a 69 position. By the time I shooed both of them into the shower - a tight fit, but they managed - Edward and I had each enjoyed a mouthful of the other's spunk, earnests of what was to come for the rest of the term. ***** If I were to dwell on each occasion when Edward or Gordon came to spend time with me this memoir would inch far too slowly to a conclusion, and there is much to tell beyond hours of agreeable sex with trebles. As that first term wore on it became increasingly clear that, though Edward had taken the lead in our first fleeting meetings in the preceding winter, it was Gordon who was the more inventive and imaginative in bed. You must not think that sex with Edward was not rewarding, but sex with Gordon was on an altogether higher - or perhaps lower, more earthy - plane. Gordon, not to put too fine a point on it, was as up for anything new and depraved as I was. Thus it was Gordon with whom I first shared piss pleasures, and to Gordon with whom such activities were confined. "Don't tell Ed," he had said one wet afternoon when we had pissed together, "let's keep it our secret." I had no hesitation in agreeing. If Gordon was as keen a piss-hound as our first few explorations of that aspect had suggested then the shower was not going to be adequate for all the activities that we might enjoy together. For one thing it was impossible to pissfuck, and there was nowhere else we could do it. Luckily it was Gordon who lit upon the obvious solution. "When Mark -" (that was the 9-year-old brother in front of whom wanking had been thought taboo) "- and I were little we had a blow-up paddling pool. I wish I could bring it here. Then we could piss in it and it wouldn't matter if it went everywhere." "You are brilliant," I said, embracing him, "as well as the sexiest little monkey I know." "Sexier than Ed?" "Of course, because you're here and he isn't. Sometimes, Gordon, when he's here and you aren't , he can be almost as sexy a little monkey as you." "But he doesn't do piss." "Indeed he doesn't, now come here and let me fuck you." ***** By the following afternoon I had found a shop selling inflatable kids' paddling pools and bought one (luckily in a box, and thus not readily identifiable as a grown-up sex toy when I carried it into college) together with an electric pump. The packaging said it was 8 feet by 4, so there was plenty of room for a man and a boy to get good and wet in it. I had also thought it wise to lay in a supply of disinfectant and cleaning cloths, and by 4 o'clock the following Monday (Sunday's threesome having made no mention of it) it was inflated and placed not far from the shower room door. The only snag was that, if anyone came in without knocking it would be almost the first thing they saw. I hadn't decided how to overcome this difficulty when there was a soft knock and Gordon's blond head appeared round the door. "Jesus, Dab, that's just what we need. I knew we'd be doing that, so I had a lot to drink earlier, but I didn't think you'd get a pool to play in that soon." I held out my arms and we embraced. I kissed the nape of his neck and breathed in the heady scent of boy. Like Gordon I had been stoking up with liquid - in my case beer - before he arrived. "Come on, I'm bursting too, let's get in." Sometimes the romance of taking somebody else's clothes off is an erotic precursor to an hour or two of fun, but that day we both knew instinctively that such romantic foreplay would have been out of place. Gordon, naked, half-hard, a lustful grin on his face stood in the pool at one end; I, naked, half-hard, lust pouring out of my eyes at the sight of a boy, a beautiful blond boy, my beautiful blond boy in my room with his arse, doubtless greased, keenly looking forward to being fucked by my cock. I stepped into the pool at the other end and opened my arms again. We both stepped forward and embraced. "Go on," I whispered, "piss on my, and I will when I feel yours." Gordon giggled. "You're really weird, Dab." I felt his cock pressing into my groin, for he was several inches shorter than I; my cock was against his chest. After a minute during which we both stood stock still (I was still nuzzling his neck) he sighed and I felt a hot gush of piss soaking my cock and running down my legs. "Aaah!" I murmured, "that's so hot, Gordon." "You do it, Dab," he whispered, "I want to feel yours on my belly." I relaxed and my cock obeyed. "Oh Christ," he whispered, "it's far hotter than when we do it in the shower." "Stop if you can," I whispered, "I want some in my mouth." When I felt the stream cease I knelt and his cock, hard and wet, was in my mouth. I nodded. Even though his cock was chubbed he started to piss again. I swallowed all of it, every delicious golden drop of his second-most precious offering. When he finished and I had savoured the last mouthful I looked up. "You like that, don't you, Dab," he said softly. It was his turn to kneel, but as he turned away from me I knew it was a pissfuck he wanted. "I've waited ages for this, Dab, ever since we first did pissing stuff together. Please piss up my arse - I want to feel what it's like." I got him in position and touched my cockhead to his arse lips - already pink and welcoming. I pissed on the outside and he squirmed. "Oh fuck, that's hot, but get it in, Dab, all the way, don't waste it outside." The rest of my bladder's contents were poured into him exactly where he wanted - deep inside. "Don't try to keep it in," I murmured, "because when it comes out it's almost as hot as when it goes in." Inevitably I was soon filling him faster than his rectum could accommodate and piss started to leak out of him, running down his thighs. "Oooh! you're right - that's ... oh Dab, wank me, wank me hard, I need ..." I reached round and held his hot hard cock - a good 5 inches or proud boy - and did as he had begged. He must have been very close, for he came and his arse muscles tightened on me well before I had finished pissing. His groans were worryingly loud, and I decided that the oak would be sported from then on. Let the rest of the staircase be curious. As soon as he had stopped groaning and his cock had finished spurting into the pool he muttered that he had an urgent desire to be fucked, and that he would be obliged if that fuck were to be very swift and with little regard to the avoidance of any discomfort he might feel. I smiled to myself, knowing that in a pool that size any piss which might get squirted out in a ferocious fuck was unlikely to escape over the gunwales. "OK, kid, hold on." To my considerable surprise I lasted a lot longer than I had expected. Pissfucks are generally short affairs, certainly when compared to those long loving fucks that Billy and I shared (and Jack too). On this occasion it must have been getting on for a quarter of an hour before I suddenly knew that it was imminent. "Here comes, Gordon," I breathed, plunging in one last time while my cock strove to get up under his ribs. Each pulse of my cock was accompanied by an involuntary squeeze as I gripped more tightly round his waist. At last it was over. "Fucking hell, Dab, you squirted nine times! You've never done that before." I felt it. Every one of those nine had taken a lot out of me. I slipped out and lay on my back in the piss, exhausted. I closed my eyes. "I'm knackered," I whispered. A minute or so later I felt a stream of piss aimed at my cock. I opened my eyes. Gordon was standing over me, his face beaming, his cock straining to make me even wetter. "I liked that," he said. "Mmm," was all I could muster by way of reply, but my smile matched his. ***** I hope that gives you a flavour of what I got up to with Edward and Gordon. All three of us enjoyed what we did, but inevitably the sessions were not greatly different (although, as you know, Edward and I did different things from those Gordon and I enjoyed). By the following May, when Gordon was 13, he and I planned a special celebration. Exams had finished a week earlier, and we were in that glorious time when we - undergraduates, that is - had nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. An impossible idea came into my mind - getting Edward and Gordon away for a night in Uttoxeter with Billy and Jack, but when I asked the boys if they could get away for a night it was clear that it was not on. Gordon's parents naturally had a birthday occasion planned, so the celebration he and I shared was a few days after he turned 13. It was memorable, the more so for him because I had invited Billy for the weekend and told him to bring Jack as well. That meant that Edward and Gordon each had their first sight of a black cock as big as Jack's, their first taste of spunk from a black cock, and - after some initial hesitation - the first feeling of a cock - any cock - that size up inside. "Am I really bigger than any of the men who fuck you?" Jack had asked incredulously. Edward and Gordon considered the matter, and Edward admitted that Colin's was probably that big, "but he's ancient and you're, what, 16?" "15," said Jack, "so if I come back next summer there'll be even more." "Yum yum," muttered Gordon. I wanted to finish the story of my freshman's year, but there had been much to discover at home during the Christmas vacation, when Seth's travels took him to a certain establishment in Bayswater, and the Cunliffe fortunes began to take an upward turn. ***** I found Billy and Jack as keen to welcome me home as I was to see them again. I'd kept them both in the loop about Edward and Gordon, so there was much ribaldry from Jack in particular, who apologised profusely for not being "pink and pure, like your two cherubs". I reached over - we were in bed when he said it - and gently peeled his foreskin back. "See, you're just as pink as they are, and what's more - you're here. They did their best, the two of them, to satisfy my needs, but you, Jack, have inches to spare." I loved Billy's deep chuckle. It was good to be home. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 56 as Seth's story continues. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================