Date: Fri, 10 Jul 2020 17:36:50 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line - Chapter 74 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. NOTE to the reader: "Peter Brown" aka badboi666 is, as you might guess, not in the first flush of youth: indeed he is well into the you'll-die-if-you-get-this-fucking-thing age cohort. It has been his habit in all his stories published here to be two or three chapters ahead of publication. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post all outstanding chapters together with a synopsis of what is still to come. Then, if he snuffs it, you can at least have some idea of what befell Dab in the end. A bit like Edwin Dro 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 74 After Hamish had gone we set off for Inverness. Luckily we were able to find everything we needed, and the shops promised that it would all be delivered before we left to go back home. On the way we had discussed the matter of a suitable van. Billy had pointed out that we would need to bring stuff from Uttoxeter when we came in September, so it made more sense to buy a van at home. I asked him what he was thinking of. "A new sling, for one thing. We flung out the one that was here, remember?" It was true: when we examined it carefully a year earlier we'd found that the leather was rotted, so we'd dismantled it (with great difficulty) and put the metal bits in the recycling place in Lairg. "We'll get one from Seb," I said, and immediately felt guilty that Seb's injuries had been forgotten in the heady rush of the last couple of days. "I'll zip Dodo," said Billy, "and see how he is. "You can mention Hamish - that'll give them something to think about." ***** Dunstable had been careful in engaging workmen during the previous winter. Through McKenzie he'd arranged for local men to do the decoration and electrical work - wiring and so on - and install the white goods. There had been men in to look at the roof and make sure that all the windows were watertight. Once they had all finished - by the end of April - the more specialised plumbers moved in. They had not been local. I'd been tickled on reading the message from Ace and Jack. Whoever they were it was obvious that they were a team of queer plumbers who made a speciality of installing wet playrooms, and this was exactly what Dunstable had discovered for me over 65 years later. When we got home I made a point of telling him how pleased I was - we were - at the result. He told me they were based in Manchester, and he had found them `through the grapevine', as he put it. He was as amused as I had been when I showed him the letter from Ace and Jack. Billy and I had made good use of the facilities and were keen to do so properly once we'd installed the sling in September. ***** When Hamish pedalled up the track for his next adventure he was in a state of great excitement. "I've got news," he said. News, it seemed, took precedence over sex, so whatever it was the news must be pressing. The three of us sat in the kitchen, Billy and I with coffee and Hamish with Irn-Bru which we had bought specially in Inverness. "I'm to be 15 soon and they sent me a letter about what I'm to do." We must have looked puzzled because he explained that 15-year-olds had to make a choice about staying at school or leaving. "And if I leave school I've got to do land-service or do National Service in the fucking army. My dad thinks it has to be land-service, but I don't know. I don't want to go in the army but I don't know whether it should be school or land-service." It seemed to be different in Scotland. "Can't you get a job like your dad's, on the railway or something?" asked Billy. Hamish shook his head. "Not if I don't do three years in the army first." It was true - Bradley's policy was still being followed. "Are you likely to stay at school until you're old enough to go to college?" I asked. Hamish shook his head, "I'm not that bright, Dab." I asked him what land-service meant in Scotland as it was likely to be different from what we had at home. The two countries no longer did things the same after Scotland left the UK when I was a child. "I have to work on the land in some way - on a farm or something. You have to do it for three years, like the army, but you don't get shot at. I don't know if there's any farms round here that take land-service boys - most of them are family-run and they don't need kids apart from their own." "When do you have to make your mind up?" "Not till the end of July. School starts in the middle of August." Neither Billy nor I could make any useful suggestion, even about the sort of things he'd have to think about. There was no easy answer such as the ones I'd come up with for Dodo and Jack. I could hardly uproot him from his family and give him a job on the Estate. We sat in silence for a few minutes, each thinking about what Hamish might do. At length he put his empty can down. "Well, we can't sit here blethering all morning," he said, "there's work to be done." He stood up. "Come on, you two, I need you to go to work on me." Billy and I stood up. "That sounds like a good idea, Hamish. If your balls are as full as Dab's and mine we'll have to watch we don't hit the ceiling." Two minutes later we were all stripped, and all hard. "I need a piss before we get down to it," said Hamish. Billy looked a question at me but I shook my head. I didn't think Hamish was ready for more esoteric activities yet. When he came to visit us in September and was confronted with an erection of a different kind in the middle bit of the room it might be appropriate to indicate the purpose for which it had been installed; there was no hurry. So Hamish pissed, but he did so without embarrassment in full view (and hearing) of us. He joined us on the bed. "Have you been a good boy, Hamish, and done what I said?" He nodded. "It's the longest I've been without coming since I first learned to do it. It's not been easy." I smiled. "The reward will be worth it, I promise," and I gave him a gentle kiss. "Since we won't be here when it's your birthday I think you should have your present from us today." He grinned. "That sounds fun, Dab. What is it." "It's whatever you like, Hamish. Billy and I will do whatever you want in the next two hours. You choose." Hamish had not expected that. Until that moment the various things the three of us had done had been either at our instigation, or agreed by the three of us. Now for the first time he was being let loose in the toy-shop, as it were, to play with whatever he fancied. And like any small child let loose in a toy-shop he was spoilt for choice. Billy and I waited patiently. After a couple of minutes Hamish turned to me - he was lying between us as usual - and said very solemnly that he would like to fuck me. "Do you mind, Dab?" "Of course I don't mind, Hamish. We said it's your choice. Is that the only thing? It won't take two hours." Hamish laughed. "I know that, but before I fuck you you've got to fuck me like Billy did - properly." I turned to Billy. "Do you mind being left off Hamish's shopping list? Maybe if you ask him nicely he'll think of things he'll let you do." It would have been hard to choose which of the two of them had the more wicked grin. Certainly Billy had more ideas in his mind than Hamish had, but this was Hamish's treat and Billy wisely kept silent. "I want to do to Billy's arse what he did to yours before he fucked you." "It's called rimming," said the arse's owner, "or do you mean the fingering bit?" "Both," whispered Hamish. I caught Billy's eye and mouthed a single syllable. He nodded, "why not?" "Why not what?" said Hamish, aware that a message had been exchanged. "All in good time, lad," I said, "and if you're going to nuzzle Billy's arse that means you and I ought to get on with it. Will I fuck you first, or you fuck me?" "You fuck me," whispered Hamish, and drew his knees up to his ears. "Is this right?" Hamish's arse was there before me - unblemished, not as much as a spot to be seen, a brown wrinkled treasure cave waiting to be explored. I knelt between his legs and put my hands under his buttocks. The entrance to the treasure was only a few inches from me. My tongue reached out to seek admittance. Hamish wriggled; my tongue quested for a moment then decided to prolong the approach by exploring Hamish's perineum all the way from where it emerged from his back to his tight ball sac. The line joining the two halves of his body was very sensitive as my tongue traced it; Hamish wriggled some more and Billy, squatting behind Hamish's head holding the boy's hands, brought the appearance of three big drops of precum to my attention. "You can have them if you like, Billy," whispered Hamish. Billy, keen to participate in as much of Hamish's birthday present as possible, bent forward to take the boy's cock into his mouth. "Don't make him come," I said, "not yet." Billy contented himself by using one hand (he knelt on the hand that was released lest Hamish tried to move it) to draw Hamish's foreskin back, an action which caused more precum to be available for licking. "Happy birthday," whispered Billy, "many happy returns." It was time for a full-scale tongue job on Hamish's arse, and I bathed all the affected parts lovingly. When I took one of balls into my mouth the shudder - and the moans - were a good indication that Hamish was enjoying his treat as much as I was in delivering it. I touched a greased finger to the doorway. "I'm dry in there," he gasped. "Don't worry, I'll see to that," I murmured, making a mental note to discuss greasing with him at a quieter moment. The greased finger slipped in, joined by a second. "Mmm, that's so nice, Dab." My fingers went in search of their target and soon found it. Hamish shuddered again. "What was that - do it again, Dab, it was electric." More to be talked about afterwards, I decided: play now, explain later. If the boy really hadn't come since he was last here then the size of it would be worth seeing - for him as much as for us oldies - so I decided to make him cum before I fucked him - it was pretty likely I could make him cum again anyway. "Enjoy this," I said softly and set my fingers to their task. Immediately the moans became more intense, culminating in a loud aaah! as his cock flung two days'-worth of spunk high into the air. "Fuck it, Hamish! that's huge," said Billy as five big ropes of white fire landed on Hamish's face and chest. While Hamish was still up in the air Billy bent over the boy and got most of it in his mouth. "Share, Hamish," I said, "kiss Billy and taste it - it's hot." Hamish would have walked on live coals at that point, so doing something like kissing Billy didn't hold him back for an instant. When I saw that they two of them were glued together sharing the birthday feast I greased my cock and slowly pushed it in. Hamish gave out a deep groan, but his lips stayed fastened to Billy's. When I was all the way in I kept it there, pulling Hamish's hips so that every last bit of me was as in as I could get it. Billy, watching me out of the corner of his eye, released Hamish's lips. "Your spunk is tasty, Hamish, isn't it?" he whispered. Hamish nodded. He was still panting after what must have been the biggest cum of his life. "Go on, Dab, I need it now. Hard." "Sure?" "Yeah. This is the last hard fuck I'll ever get when I'm 14." Despite his confidence that he could take a hard fuck I gave him only 80% - there would be plenty of time for 100% hard fucks when he wasn't 14 any more. As it was he grunted and groaned encouragingly and I kept at it for a good five minutes before the sheer erotic joy of fucking a 14-year-old brought me to the boil. Hamish was already learning - he sensed that I was close - and he made an instant decision. "Do it on me, Dab," he said softly, "I want to see it." He was only just in time. Two more deep thrusts all the way into his gorgeous arse then I whipped it out and the three of us enjoyed the spectacle of an adult's two-day load coating the chest and belly of his willing boy, a boy still glowing with his own mammoth spunking. "Jesus!" breathed Hamish in awe, "will I do that much when I'm grown up?" "Oh yes, Hamish," whispered Billy, "there's no doubt of that. Now I'm going to clean you up. Do you want to share Dab's as well?" Hamish hesitated for about half a second before nodding. "Only if I get some too," I said as I rocked back on my heels. "You're one top-grade fuck, Hamish. Pity you can't tell anyone." For the first time since we had been intimate Hamish's blush returned. "Aye." An hour later Billy had to conclude that while Hamish was not yet a top-grade performer at the various things which might be done (short of fucking) to an arse, he was a most excellent pupil. I had been close at hand to tell, and occasionally show, him what could be done with lips, tongue and fingers, all of which he plied with gusto. Billy was nowhere near coming, but I don't think any of us expected Hamish to conjure up spunk on his first attempt. When he'd been at it for a while, and fingers had been inserted I told him about the prostate. "Remember when I rubbed something up your arse and you practically leapt a foot in the air? Well, what I rubbed was your prostate and what it does is give all the lively little sperms your busy little balls make some nice juice to swim in. All males have one, and as you found out, it reacts very well to being rubbed." "Mmm." "If you're lucky when you're being fucked whoever-it-is will have a cock that rubs against it. Mine doesn't but Billy's is curved and might well hit the spot." "Mmm." Billy, still being attended to while this instruction was being given, said that the curve in his cock would only rub Hamish's prostate if Hamish was being fucked from behind. "Your prostate's at the back," he explained, "see if you can find it. It's quite a way in." I suggested Hamish should stick two fingers in and feel around. Hamish inserted; Hamish scouted around; Billy twitched. "Was that it?" "I think so, Hamish, he certainly jumped. Do it again." Billy twitched again. Hamish enjoyed further exploration in precisely that area. Billy's cock leaked a long string of precum. I drew it to Hamish's attention. "You did that, Hamish, and it's your reward. Go for it." Hamish went for it. Billy's cock - or most of it anyway - was in Hamish's mouth and he was lapping everything up. Billy held the red head which was unexpectedly bringing him close to coming. "I'm near," he muttered, "you choose where, Hamish." Hamish earned his cocksucking spurs that day. Having tasted, albeit at one remove, his own spunk and mine he was determined to get Billy's straight from the tap. As it was clear that he wasn't about to let go Billy just let things take their course. It didn't take long. "Oh fuck, Hamish ... aah! ... yes," and I saw Billy's stomach muscles ripple as his balls added icing to the birthday feast. "Yessss, yessss ... oh God." I tapped Hamish's shoulder. He looked out of the corner of his eye. "Share, Hamish, that way we all get the treat." I was astonished how Hamish's kissing technique had progressed in a mere two days. The spunk he'd harvested from Billy was filling his mouth as our tongues danced together, and the familiar taste of Billy in such an unexpected (but highly erotic) place made tears come to my eyes. I kept them tight shut: I didn't want to have to explain complex emotions at that moment. We needed a break after that. Beer, and Irn-Bru aided by chocolate biscuits, refreshed us for the final act. Hamish asked lots of questions, this time without hesitation or blushing, and we did our best to answer them, even the very personal ones about how Billy and I had first found out we loved each other. The fact that a boy of his age could ask about love in the context of two men was good - there can't have been many examples of queerdom in his experience for him to be so easy about it. We couldn't answer his biggest questions, of course. Where he would find other queer boys (the words he used), would he be lucky and find someone to love, what was he going to do? I cuddled him. "You've got your whole life in front of you, Hamish, and right now all you have to do is enjoy it. The big decision you have to make is school or land-service. Why not ask one of the teachers. Is there one who you feel would give you a sensible answer?" He thought for a moment then, "yes. Mr Ogilvie. I like him. I'll go and ask him." I kissed him, "well done, Hamish. Do it soon, then you can tell us what he says when you come next time." Hamish was pleased that the idea of a next time was floated. "When are you away again?" "Four days from now." He looked pleased. "We've got another present for you, a real one this time," said Billy, "would you like it now, or after you've fucked his lordship?" Hamish giggled. "I can't get used to you calling him that. After, I think." "In that case," I said, finishing my beer, "it's time you got on with it. I decided I wanted to be on my back. It might not be the most wonderful fuck I was ever going to have, but there is something deeply heart-warming (other parts will be warmed as well) about looking at a boy of his age - any age, really, but 14-going-on-15 is pretty special - as he enjoys his first fuck, however brief it turns out to be. The concentration as he first gets it in, the expression of sheer awe once it's in and he knows he's cleared the biggest hurdle of his young life, the delight as he starts to fuck, the discovery that the sensation of his cock going backwards and forwards in a wet arse is 50 million times better than a wank, the awful realisation that he's not going to last much longer, the desperate final plunge in as deep as he can get it, the overpowering orgasm heightened by its location and the build-up, the little death that any orgasm is (but bigger a death because the orgasm was bigger - miles bigger), the shrinking, the slipping out, the being enfolded by his lordship, the sheer unbelievable wonderfulness of being alive, being ... loved? If there were tears they were kissed away. Hamish, spent in my arms, looked up at me, his eyes glittering. "Gosh!" he whispered. Gosh indeed, I thought. "Next time you'll last longer, I promise," I whispered, "but that was nearly as good for me as it was for you. I promise that too." And it was true. I stroked his ginger hair and kissed it. I wished there was a way we could ... no, Dab, leave it. He's got to make his own decisions in his own way at his own pace. Anyway, you don't know what Mr Ogilvie might say. Billy let us stay together like that for several minutes before he suggested that on this occasion a shower was really necessary. I had to agree. The scent of a well-fucked boy (and one who has had his first fuck) is one Billy and I can't get enough of, but that day Hamish would be unmistakably ripe by the time he got home. "Shower now, Hamish - we all will - then run around the garden and work up a healthy sweat before you go home. They won't suspect a thing then." I think it was the 'we all will' which persuaded him. He was fascinated by the arrangement: until then he'd not commented on it, but now that it was to be used for more than just pissing his curiosity overcame him. "What is this for, all this stuff in the middle? Why are there two showers and two loos? And the funny stuff on the wall?" "Choose a shower and I'll tell you," I said. Naturally Hamish stood by the nearest shower and I turned it on; he waited until it was running hot (sensible boy, for the cold was cold indeed) and stepped under it, whereupon I joined him. Billy, aware that there wasn't room for anything interesting to happen with three of us under one shower, chose the other and watched. "Come on, Hamish, I'll do your back," I said, and plied the affected part with gel. Hamish shivered, but not with cold. "I like that, Dab," he murmured then, a few moments later, "I like that even more." I was washing his arse crack. "I don't suppose they'll insist of a full body examination when you get home, but just in case ..." and his cock and balls were the objects of my further attention. Another two minutes and both of us were free from any evidence of a busy few hours. "I need a piss," said Hamish, "all this water running's made me want." Here was a moment of choice for me. Piss play was fairly advanced stuff for a beginner, but on the other hand he had been insistent about things he wanted to know about. "You can piss here in the shower. It all goes down the same drain." "But you're here too." "So? The reason we have two loos and two showers and the wall you can wipe down is that it's allowed for you to piss anywhere in this middle bit. Look," and I pointed to Billy who had taken his cue and was pissing in a fine arc under the other shower. If Hamish showed disgust that would be that, and future play would be confined to the bedroom. I waited to see what he would do. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 75 as Hamish reacts, and life at Inverthrum goes on. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================