Date: Fri, 1 Sep 2017 14:37:18 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Lion-King Chapter 17 Lion-King 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 fresh young lads 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 17 I've reached the 70s at last. The decade when, for the second time, my life changed completely. Soon I'll no longer be seeing Leo on this journey: Leo, whose marching beside me on 1 July 1972 altered everything; Leo, who led me out of the long years of bitter darkness; Leo, whose example of love has made this journey necessary. I said goodbye to Leo a month ago now, in 2017. The only Leo I'm seeing now as I travel back is an image, but he's still incredibly real, and he always will be. 31 August 1979 saw us on an ordinary day in Harlow. I was in the office dealing with the details of yet another of our 'conversions'. We'd done nearly 100 by then, almost all as a result of personal recommendations from satisfied (often gratifyingly satisfied) clients. I say "we" - after Ace died I needed help to carry on the business. At that stage most of the work had nothing to do with 'conversions', but by now I'd set up two divisions: one doing run-of-the-mill building work, all of it within 20 miles of Harlow, and the other, more specialised, building playrooms for rich queers. I did this all over the country, and had recruited two nice lads to help me. I'll be telling you more about them in a few days time. Altogether I employed five men now: a foreman and two crew for the normal stuff, and my two working under (and occasionally on top of) me. It was a satisfying working arrangement for all concerned. The normal guys knew all about my side of the business, but since I only hired other queers there was no difficulty. Nor, I have to say, was there any shortage of potential recruits. I was running one of the most profitable building firms in the Home Counties, not least because I had no competition whatever. The perks were good too, for the staff as well as management. When Ace died I couldn't face doing the Oxford job, and the professor who had engaged us was very understanding. At that time I was on my own, and wrecked emotionally. It was over a year before I could face that kind of work again, and by then the professor was no longer interested. Today Leo's at the office as usual. We've got into a routine since he moved in seven years ago. He leaves home to commute, like millions of other people, and he comes home again in the evening knackered. It's a crazy life. I try to make sure that home like is as stress-free as possible. It's nearly 7 o'clock. Leo will be home any minute. I've made his favourite dinner - I'm not sure why, as it's not a special occasion. I suppose it's just one of the small things married couples do because they love each other. Not that Leo and I are married yet - that won't happen for over 30 years, but we feel married. Three hours later we're off to bed. Leo's told me about his day; I've told him about my plan to convert an out-building near Birmingham. All very domestic. By 11 we're asleep in each other's arms. "I" am smiling invisibly in the corner. Rex and Leo have a good life together. We're entirely contented with what's been dealt to us. Today was a typical day in our lives, and although it contains nothing remotely sexual "I" wanted to share it with you. Love is about so much more than fucking. ***** Not that fucking isn't pretty important. 31 August 1977 saw us celebrating our fifth anniversary. I had discovered that this was the wooden anniversary, so I'd planned something involving lots of wood. It was all set for the weekend after 1 July - The Big Date - but it had to be cancelled at a few days notice because I broke my arm. The hospital said I'd be as right as rain in two months, so we rearranged the surprise - Leo had no idea what it was - for today. July and August were a real pain. Leo made himself useful in all sorts of ways about the house. He always did the cooking in our Tangier flat and I did the cooking here, so Leo had to master British cuisine using the sort of food he could buy in the local Sainsbury's - quite a change from the Tangier souk. "The boys aren't as nice either," he grumbled. I pointed out that all he needed to find on his quest was one boy, but even that seemed beyond him. I reminded him what had happened a few years ago and he grinned. "Yes, he was a good find. He'll be what, nearly 19 now. I wonder what he's up to." As well as his busyness in the kitchen Leo also helped with other, more personal, tasks. Washing, showering, drying all came within his remit. As did preventing an unwelcome build-up of erotic tension. It was refreshing to have to modify our usual sexual behaviour for several weeks. Leo's lips were no stranger to my cock, of course, but until then I hadn't discovered that he was a considerate masturbator as well. After all, which queer couple wastes time on wanking when there are so many more deeply satisfying ways of cumming? However, I'm straying from today's little excitement. Our Wooden Anniversary. Looking back on it, this was probably the riskiest thing we ever did in our 45 years together, but at the time the risk seemed worth running. Had it gone wrong I suppose we'd have been coming out of prison when we were getting on for 60. But of course it didn't go wrong. One of my local 'conversions' was for a guy in Chelmsford. He found me in the usual way, through a recommendation from a satisfied client. It turned out that he had been entertained in the one I'd done in Ipswich and wanted one like it. Anyway, none of the history is relevant. What matters is that he was very much in the closet - not a problem with me, but I had to be a bit more careful about disguising his playroom from anyone visiting the rest of his house. I was used to that though. He was in the closet because he was a schoolmaster, and also ran (I nearly said 'was involved with') a local scout group. Needless to say he chose these professions because they brought boys within range. When I finished conversions and I liked the guy I was usually prepared to offer a discount on the agreed price provided I could attend the Grand Opening (with my guest, of course). After I met Leo I stopped offering these discounts to guys who wanted to fuck me, but BL I wasn't fussy. Since 1972 the discount has been offered only to guys who, like me - us - want to play with boys of a certain age. My schoolmaster friend, who told me that his name was John (I wasn't fussy about names if they paid cash, as most of them did), was very specific about his conversion. He lived in a Victorian detached house which had belonged to his parents, so there was no mortgage to hinder major internal changes. The upstairs consisted of three rooms and a bathroom. It was to become one bedroom, not connected to the other room, and a large L-shaped playroom with the bathroom, or what remained of it, at the angle of the L. I ripped out all the plumbing fixtures, which dated from before the War, and installed wet-wall extending well into the two other rooms. Internal walls were largely demolished, leaving only the minimum necessary to hold the roof up. The usual sloping floor meant that everything would drain centrally. So far so normal. One room was furnished with the biggest bed I'd ever seen at that time - around 7 feet long and fully 12 feet across. The interesting bit was the other room, or dungeon as John liked to call it. It had a sling, wall bars and various rings for attaching things to, some high, some low. This man was decidedly kinky, but his money was excellent. I expect Mummy and Daddy left him a bit more than just the house. I've described all this because this was where I'd planned our wooden adventure. The opening, to which Leo couldn't come - he was abroad on business - had been last January. I had phoned John in June to see whether he was willing to host something special for us, knowing that the opening had been something out of the ordinary. He said he would see what he could do, and agreed to phone me in a few days. Well, as I've told you, that's when I broke my bloody arm, so that plans had to be deferred. John was quite pleased, he said, because that gave him more time. How many would there be, he had asked. Oh, just the two of us and yourself, of course. "Fine, I'll get three then. Same as last time for you?" I agreed: the last time had been well worth repeating. "My partner Leo likes the same kind," I said. John pronounced himself satisfied with my requirements. "31 August then?" I agreed, and asked how much. John thought a bit. "If you're staying until September -" (I indicated that we would indeed do just than) "- let's say £250." I agreed. It was steep. but wooden anniversaries don't come round every year. Now I've given you the background I can get on with telling you about our adventure in Chelmsford. "I" am invisible again, but that won't impair the veracity of what is reported. There may be slightly shaky bits while "I" have an orgasm, but you'll forgive than, no doubt. I'd told Leo that the treat was arranged, and that he had to be home by 5. By 6 we were showered and dressed. By 6.30 we were in the best restaurant in Chelmsford having a nice dinner. By 8 we were knocking at John's door. By midnight we were absolutely exhausted, all 6 of us. It's the four hours in between I expect you'd like to hear about. John welcomed us in and I introduced Leo. "The boys are in the sitting room," he said, "come and meet them." Leo had no idea what was coming: I knew, but it was several months since I'd been here. Would Eric have changed? Three boys were sitting on a large sofa with glasses of squash in their hands. They stood as we came in, and John introduced them to us. "Eric, you'll remember Rex; Francis, this is Leo; Rex, Leo, this delightful boy is George." The boys all smiled, knowing with whom they were to be paired, at least initially. It crossed my mind that John was taking the most incredible risk - how did he know that Leo wasn't a vice cop whom I'd brought along in order to blackmail a schoolmaster? But the thought didn't stay long. Eric was a couple of inches taller than he'd been when I spent most of the night fucking him in January. He grinned, anticipating more of the same. "Hi Eric," I said, "it's good to see you again. You've grown." He laughed, "You wait," he said, "it's not the only thing." Music to an old pervert's ears. Eric, I should tell you, is just 14. He is hairless in the places that matter; he is uncut; his cock was 5 inches in January, but clearly now bigger. Eric's capacity for squirting spunk wasn't all that great in January, but his orgasms were explosively wonderful to him (and to me, come to that). Francis took Leo's hand and drew him to the sofa. "These others all know each other," Leo said quietly, "but we have the pleasure of getting to know each other for the first time." Francis smiled. "I'll enjoy that," he said, "but John wouldn't have invited me if he didn't know a lot about me, and what I like." "I think that finding out will be something special," said Leo. By this time all six of us were paired. "Before you get too comfortable," said John, "let's go upstairs." This was evidently the routine, since all three boys leapt up and dashed up the stairs, leaving us old folk bringing up the rear. Not because we were slow or anything, but all three of us liked watching boys' arses. Did I tell you they were naked when we came in? No? Sorry. Perhaps this is the time to tell you about Francis and George. They were brothers, now 14 and 13. All three were in John's scout group, but not in the school at which he taught. I found out later, nuzzling quietly into Eric's ear during one of our quiet recovery interludes, that the discovery of Eric's sexual availability (and that was putting it mildly, believe me) had been made last summer at camp. John had been seduced - yes, it was that way round - and Eric, once he'd landed his prize, had quickly enrolled Francis and George. I felt sorry for John, having to service three horny lads at camp, but my sorrow was well-laced with envy. So far his wickednesses had escaped notice: long may they continue to do so! Eric suddenly seemed strangely familiar. Overtones of Jack maybe. Anyway, whatever the reason, Eric and I were very quick to resume the tempestuous nature of our first meeting in January. "I was really pissed off when John called this off in July," he said, "when you broke your arm. I hope it's OK now." I assured him that my arm, like the rest of me, was in fighting form. "Good," he said, "because I've been looking forward to being fucked by you for 61 days. That's nearly 1,500 hours. And what a boy looks forward to being fucked for that long his balls start to hurt. So get on with it please, Rex." I am a good guest, so I was happy to comply. Ten minutes later Eric had had the first fuck of the night, and had pronounced it well worth waiting for. Cum trickled from his arse. John had got George up in the sling. Leo and I hadn't used slings, and I hadn't been in once since quite a few years BL. George was clearly used to it, and was the willing recipient of his older brother's right arm. I noticed that the sling was positioned over the drain, so it seemed likely that someone would get pissed on sooner or later. John thrust Francis aside - he was just the warm-up act, it seemed, and pushed his cock (thick, but not very long) into George. George sighed, "Oh, John, that's good. You know what I need." George, just 13, had worked out what pressed his buttons, assisted no doubt by his brother and his scoutmaster. Brother had warmed up his prostate, scoutmaster was now pummelling it and stretching the boy's arse lips, bringing a magical smile to his face. "Go on, John, harder." John increased the severity of the fucking the boy's arse was receiving. George suddenly came onto his belly, a spunky offering which lasted precisely three seconds before Francis licked it up, and offered it to Leo, who accepted the kiss. Francis then drew Leo to the bed where he took Leo's cock into his mouth. John speeded up again and "aaah!" came deep inside George. "I can feel your cock shooting," he cried, "it's so hot, John." I wondered whether the drain would be put to use ... it was. George said, "I can feel you pissing now, John," and evidently that was the signal for George to piss as well. Had they known that Leo wasn't into piss? Was that why Francis had dragged him away to the safety of the bed? Eric sensed the twitch in my cock at the sight of George's cock pouring piss onto his chest. "You like that, don't you?" he said, "I remember now. I'll get in the sling next and we can do what they've just dome." I agreed that this would be a good idea. I had to remind myself that this was an anniversary treat, with much wood, for Leo. I couldn't just ignore him. He and Francis were entwined in a complicated fuck. Francis was almost engulfed by Leo's body, with his cock was deep inside the boy. The boy was loving it, to judge by the rhythmic squeals every time Leo stuck his cock in - such squeals are much more erotic than rhythmic bed-springs, and the four of us who weren't part of the coupling all grinned as we heard them. George and John had finished pissing and George took his cock out. The drain was put to considerable use. George hopped out of the sling and went to lie beside Leo and Francis. I was a bit concerned that a piss-wet George might put Leo off his stroke, but my worries were misplaced. George managed to find Leo's arse in the tangle of bodies and gave it his tongue treatment. When he dared to put a finger in Leo gave a howl of delight and unloaded himself into Francis. Francis gave a howl of delight and unloaded himself into the crush of bellies near his cock. I gave a howl of delight and said "Happy anniversary, Leo!" "I" gave an unheard howl of delight as "my" invisible cock shot invisible spunk onto me. I felt a strange feeling as I watched, as though a goose had walked over my grave. George and John took themselves, still wet, to the shower where they cleaned each other up. Soon after they went to bed, tactfully leaving the four of us to celebrate our anniversary as we wished. An hour or two later I saw them cuddled together, fast asleep. Good old scout camp, I thought, and immediately my mind went to Robin. He'd be 33 or so now - just about the same age as John. Leo and I had had our first orgasm, and we needed a rest before the next. The four of us got on the other side of the large bed, leaving John and George to sleep. "This is our anniversary," I said to Leo, and I want to fuck you to say thank you for being who you are, and for saving me." He smiled. "I'd like that. Shall we ask these two delightful creatures to watch, or should they be encouraged to join in?" His eyes sparkled. "Let's let them make up their own minds," I said, "they'll be very welcome to help us if they want to." Leo likes it when I fuck him face-to-face. He lay on his back, his legs drawn up. I got down to give his arse the treatment he loves so much: tongue, fingers, no hurry. Francis saw that there was plenty of room for him to climb on top of Leo and 69 him. This gave Leo what he really wanted, which was the opportunity to do to Francis's lovely 14-year-old unblemished (but much-fucked) arse what I was doing to his much-loved, but somewhat lived-in arse. For 20 minutes arses were loved and licked and fingered and generally treated to much worship. Eric was not idle while this was happening. He remembered from January that I too have an arse which enjoys attention, especially from boys his age, and managed - thanks to the slimness which made him so attractive - to crawl under me and get his mouth in exactly the right place. Only Eric's arse is not being attended to: I would put that right later. "Fuck me, love," muttered Leo eventually, "I want you in me." Because I love Rex, and sex between us is special, I'm not going into details. I fucked him, and, as always, he loved it and so did I. Eric and Francis had sat back and watched, their involvement not so complete as to inhibit them from enjoying each other's cocks in a little 69 ballet. A couple of minutes after we'd finished the boys came, about 20 seconds apart, into each other's mouth, and I was pleased to see that both swallowed enthusiastically. All four of needed rest time again. Leo reached for Francis and Eric came into my arms. We kissed and I caught the sharp taste of what can only have been Francis's spunk. I leant down to suck Eric's cock. Yes, the flavour was quite different. Ah! boys. Not that long after - half an hour at most - Eric whispered that he needed to piss. "Sling time?" I said. "Yes, let's." Sex with Eric in January had been memorable, as indeed had been sex with Eric an hour or two ago, but sex with Eric in the sling was in the top 10 of all my sexual encounters in a long, and frequently disgraceful, life. He hopped up into what was, to judge by the look on his face, a position familiar to him. He snuggled forward, his arse completely open and defenceless, his ankles high up in the stirrups and his wrists in the cuffs. He grinned. "Come on then. I need attention." John had a sling whose height could be adjusted - it cost a fair bit extra, I remembered - and I raised Eric until his arse was at the right level for me to attend to it without bending. A few turns of the handle brought his beautiful rear up to Rex face level. There it glistened with some of my cum. I blew gently onto his lips, still puffy and red: they twitched, opening and closing briefly. I touched them with the tip of my tongue, blowing as I did so. Usually boys' arses open up under this treatment, especially if they're used to being fucked, and Eric's was no exception. After a bit of tongue attention his arse could open (I think he was making some muscular effort) enough to allow a decent-sized plum to be popped in without touching the sides. No plum being readily available I inserted the next best thing - a number of fingers. I started with two as I knew that, although Eric would wish to accept a greater number, the gradual process of seeing how far we could get would be exciting to us both. "Aah!" he said, "I've been looking forward to this all day. If that was two I'm sure I can manage a few more. Let's try, Rex." The third finger enabled me to seek out his prostate while using the index and fourth to separate as far as I thought he could take, keeping his arse wide open. I blew a stream of air into him, and he shuddered as his cock gave a great throb and a small squirt of precum leaked onto his belly. Whether this was air or prostate I didn't know, but it didn't matter greatly. We had a long time before us if we felt like finding out. "OK?" I asked. "Mmm. I like the stretching - no-one else does that." I wondered how many other boys or men had tried. If it had been me aged 13 in that sling it would have been as many as I could find. "Had lots of guys up here then, Eric?" I asked as I continued the stretching and blowing. "Not many boys, just four so far. Boys are great for some things, but they're useless at what you're doing. I like boys for sucking and men for fucking." That seemed straightforward enough. "Why is that then?" "It's pretty obvious, isn't it? You have a whopper of a cock and that's what I like - a big cock stretching my insides. Boys have smaller cocks, but their mouths are just the right si - aaaah!" Another great cock throb, and another pulse of fluid from his cock, but this time it was cum, four great squirts of it. As you'd expect it wasn't wasted. Half in my hand for me and the other half in my hand offered to him. He licked up his own cum, thus starting a nice recycling process for me. "Would you like me to stop so that you can recover>" I asked, ever the considerate pervert. "No, don't you dare! I want more of you up there. Try more of your hand." You are hoping to hear that I fisted him. You will, as I think he was, be disappointed. I got a fourth finger in and he still wanted more, so I made the wedge and got to almost maximum knuckle stretch, but his lips just wouldn't give the last millimetre. Rather than risk tearing him I removed my hand. "Sorry, Eric, it's too risky. Maybe Francis will fist you later." Eric nodded sadly. "Never mind," I said, "I'll kiss it better." This I did, to Eric's considerable delight (much moaning and saying 'yesss' and calling upon his Saviour) and to mine as well. The enormous quantity of wetness to be found in a boy's arse - all of it exquisitely tasty - is to be experienced for oneself. My tongue was in erotic overload. Eventually he whispered, "Oh, for Christ's sake fuck me, Rex, I can't stand any more of this or I'll fucking explode. Pleeeease." I lowered him down so that his arse was at fucking height and proceeded to do as he had asked. His entreaty had been one which suggested that hard and fast (deep went without saying) would be the method of entry most likely to be appreciated, so I stuck my cock in all the way. He cried out loudly, but joyfully, and each time I thrust into him he groaned. These rutting sounds are music to a boy-lover's ears and it wasn't more than three or four minutes before my cock was spewing hot spunk up into him. Shot after shot was glazing the walls of his inner temple. My last shot coincided with his first - a second coming with no contact of his cock. "Happy?" I whispered. "Nearly. Finish it properly, will you? I'm all dirty up there." Two minutes later the drain had done its work. He was wet up there, but there was no longer any trace of my bodily fluids. His entire belly was now awash with his own piss, released contemporaneously with mine, so I helped him out of the sling and into the shower. We cleaned each other (vary carefully: boys' bits must be scrupulously looked after) and hosed down the sling. We got into bed beside Leo and Francis, still actively coupled together. Leo had Francis's cock deep inside his mouth and Francis was on the edge of what would turn out to be his fourth orgasm in four hours. The gasps as we got in beside them were evidence that all was still working in Francis's cock. Leo winked and swallowed. "This boy is very tasty, Rex," he said, "thank you for bringing me here." "Thank you for sticking with me for 5 years," I said, and kissed the only man in my life. The four of us embraced in an unstructured sort of way. We were all tired from our exertions. Cocks, when held, remained soft. That wasn't the case all night though. Unfortunately "I" can't tell you about what we got up to after midnight because "I" was no longer there. It was hot though. Randy 14-year-olds are inventive little buggers, especially with a sling. =============================================================================== badboi666@btinternet.com is where you should send comments and suggestions