Date: Sat, 16 Sep 2017 17:13:41 +0000 (UTC)
From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com>
Subject: Lion-King Chapter 24

Lion-King by badboi666

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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

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Chapter 24

It's 31 August 1961 - the date I earmarked many days ago when I would make
an effort to locate Robin.  He'd be 17 now, far too young to be on an
Electoral Roll.  I would need to be much more guileful if I were to find
him.  All I knew from the papers Jason had given me was the description
Jack - Peter as he still was then - had written about their few days
together.  And the only useful thing apart from Robin's age (13 ½) was
that he had a 16-year-old brother called Luke.  He might just come in
useful.  I put on a suit and tie.  Today I was going to be a lawyer.

I went to the Headquarters of the Boy Scouts in London and asked to see
someone who could help me with a delicate enquiry.  A young man came out
from the office and we sat while I explained my problem.  He quickly worked
out that the matter was way above his level of competence, so (I had
expected this) I allowed myself gradually to be escalated upwards through
the hierarchy.  The third person I saw was wiling to see what he could do.

I explained that I was representing the Estate of a widow who had died some
months ago.  One of the clauses in her Will was a bequest of £25, and
this was where the difficulty lay.  Apparently a scout had rescued her dog
from being drowned a few years earlier and she had never thanked him
properly.  She wished to thank him now with the legacy of £25.
Unfortunately, I told him, my client knew only that the boy was called
Robin, that he had a brother called Luke, and that the rescue had taken
place in Norwich.  She didn't know whether Robin lived in Norwich, but she
thought it likely.  "Do you keep records on scout membership?" I asked, "I
believe the rescue took place a few years ago."  He thought a bit.  "I'm
sure there will be a record somewhere," he said, "but whether it's here or
in Norwich I will have to look into."  Would I care to wait while he did
the looking into?  I would indeed.  Would I like a cup of coffee?  I would
indeed.  A bit of me hoped that the cup of coffee would be brought by a
beautiful boy clad only in vine-leaves.

As it happened the vine-leaf-clad boy was a middle-aged woman, but the
coffee was good, as were the two biscuits.  My man returned after 20
minutes.  "So sorry to have kept you so long," he said, producing a file.
This, he told me, contained details of all Norfolk scout troops.  From the
look of the file the scout movement must have started in about 1700.
"Norwich, you say ... hmm ... yes, here we are."  There were several troops
in Norwich apparently, and there were about 8 pages to plough through.  I
remembered that Robin had been introduced to sex by big brother Luke, who
had been initiated himself at scout camp in what must have been 1953.  So
both brothers would be on the list.  "We're looking for a Robin and a
brother Luke, I believe," I said, "the Will mentions that Robin had a
brother, although he isn't a beneficiary."  Several pages were studied.

"Yes, here we are," he said.  "There are four Robins who were scouts in one
or other Norwich troop between 1955 and 1960 - I think that's a wide enough
range?"  I agreed.  "The good news is that only one of them shares a
surname with a scout called Luke in the same troop."  He beamed.  "I think
we've solved your problem.  Young Robin will be thrilled, I'm sure."  He
wrote down Robin's address and I took myself off to bear the good news to
the unsuspecting Robin.

I got to Norwich - train, not bike of course - by mid afternoon and took a
taxi to the address.  A nice middle-class house.  The parents were likely
to find a visit from a solicitor unthreatening.  I hoped that Robin's
parents hadn't moved since the scout archive had been collected.  I rang
the doorbell.  A woman answered and I explained that I was looking for
Robin Hargreaves - her son?

She invited me in - you did that with complete strangers wearing a business
suit in those days.  I told her that I was a lawyer and that Robin was to
receive a small sum in someone's Will.  I was apologetic and explained that
I couldn't really go into more detail until I'd met Robin.  Would he be
home soon?  She told me that he would be starting his last year at school
the following week, but that she expected him back for tea at 5 o'clock.
She had no idea what he got up to, but she was confident he wouldn't be
late.  Would I care to wait?  It was now half past four.

She gave me cup of tea and a biscuit and we chatted about this and that.  I
learned that Luke ("that's my elder boy - he's 20 now") was due to finish
National Service in six weeks.  He was serving in Germany and couldn't wait
to get home.  Robin was the bright one, not that Luke wasn't clever, his
mother wished me to know, but Robin was going to take his A-levels next
year and they hoped he'd pass well enough to go to university.  "He won't
have to do National Service now they've stopped it," she said.  Luke
apparently was envious of his brother in this regard.  Further conversation
was stopped by Robin's return for his tea.

He stopped abruptly as he came into the room and saw me.  This was all the
confirmation I needed, as I knew that he had seen Ace with Jack at Norwich
Station the day they parted.  I needed to get him out of the house in order
to have the conversation I'd taken all this trouble to engineer, so I
explained briefly what my business was and asked if he would mind coming to
my office where the details could be sorted.  "You go, dear," said Mrs
Hargreaves, "your tea isn't made yet."  Robin and I left and we walked
towards the town centre.

"I know you," he said, "you were in Norwich with Peter that day."  I
explained that the person he'd seen then was my identical twin brother Ace.
"Yes, that was his name."  He paused, rummaging in his mind to recollect
what had been said that day.  "I remember he said he had a twin ... King,
was it?  And you're King?"  I nodded and put out my hand.  He shook it
warmly.  "I want to hear everything about Peter - no, wait, you called him
Jack, right? - and your brother."  This was going to be easier than I had
thought - no subterfuge would be needed - but the news would hit hard.

"I'm not a lawyer.  I told your mother that story because I was desperate
to meet you - the Robin that Jack had written about.  I'm sorry to tell you
that Ace and Jack were both killed when Ace's bike hit a wall.  It was only
a few days after you saw then in 1957."  Robin was badly shaken by this.
"We need to get a brandy inside you," I said, and led him into a nearby pub
where I ordered a pint for me and a brandy for him.  By the time he'd
swallowed it and got over the heat of his first shot of spirits I felt he
was ready to hear the rest.  "I had some difficulty finding you, because
all I had was Jack's story."  "What do you mean, Jack's story?  If he's
dead how could he tell you?"  I explained that Jack had kept a detailed
diary of everything he did, and that he didn't spare any details.  "Before
you get worried, Robin, I share the things you and Jack got up to.  Before
he died I fucked him nearly as much as Ace did.  We both loved him."  "We
all loved him," said Robin quietly.  "I know," I said, "and I don't know
anyone who's more missed.  His diary is safe with me.  The only use I've
made of it is to find some of the other boys who were important.  You're
the last on my list, and I'm not going to be looking any further.  Is there
anything you want to ask me?"  He was quiet for a couple of minutes,
digesting my sad news.  "Did he die quickly?"  "Immediately - he wouldn't
have known anything about it."  "And did Ace really love him?"  I assured
him that Ace's feeling for Jack was the real thing, and that I had no doubt
at all that if the accident hadn't happened they would still be together,
and probably would be until they were a pair of old men.  He smiled at the
thought.

"Let me ask you something," I said.  "Jack told you that Luke would be your
biggest ally in your relationship with Oliver.  What happened to you?"  He
grinned.  "I told Luke, and as Jack had expected he was intrigued.  We had
threesomes that year quite often, but Luke found 'lurve' with a local girl
at Christmas when we was just 17 and that was the end of messing about with
a pair of 14-year-old boys.  Still, he kept on being a good big brother and
sometimes pretended that I was with him when I was up to no good with Olly.
Olly and I are still boyfriends.  We're at different schools and we're both
doing A-levels next year.  Life's pretty good, all things considered."  I
smiled.  "So all's well that ends well.  Now about the cover story.  I told
him about the widow and her dog, and how brave he had been in rescuing it.
I solemnly produced five crisp £5 notes and handed them over with due
ceremony.  "I can't take this," he protested, "it's all made up."  I agreed
that it was made up, but that his mother knew the outline of the story and
would wish to hear about the £25 bequest.  "Take it, Robin.  You didn't
rescue a non-existent dog, but you did share a few days of high emotion
with the only person, apart from my brother, that I've ever loved.  And
that's priceless."  Bugger me, but I was starting to cry.  I wasn't the
only one.

I stood up to leave.  "Before you go," he said, "are you staying in Norwich
tonight?"  I told him I had no plans.  I could hardly say that at the
stroke of midnight I'd be in Harlow two years ago.  "Well, how about we
meet again at around 8?  I have to get home for tea, or Mum'll worry, but
I'd like to meet later and continue this conversation.  There's a nice pub
I go to near the Station - the 'Coach & Horses'.  You can get food there.
Can we meet at around 8?"  I agreed.  I liked Robin and I had to eat
somewhere.  We left the pub and he headed home for his tea.  I strolled
towards the city centre and wandered about.  It's a nice city, and I
enjoyed sight-seeing there.  By 6.30 I was heading for the C & H and by 7 I
had a satisfying meal ordered and a pint of real ale - but it always was in
those days - winking at me.

Shortly before 8 o'clock in came Robin with another lad the same age.  This
must by Olly, I thought.  I wondered how much of my story Robin had told
him.  All of it, I soon learned.  After we had introduced each other and I
had got two more pints in Olly said, "So you know all the dreadful things
that went on in that tent?"  I nodded, allowing a smile to cross my lips.
"And you're not shocked?"  I shook my head.  "All of it?" he persisted.  I
nodded, "Every last disgusting delightful detail.  And I'll tell you
something else, you two.  I'm so bloody envious you wouldn't believe it."
Olly turned to Robin.  "Told you," he said, "anyone who feels like that is
certainly up for it."  Robin felt the need to explain.  "I phoned Olly
after tea and we met.  I told him all about what you'd told me, and Peter's
diary, and that if you'd read about me and Peter you must have read about
the tent and the fun we all had.  And Olly said that if you knew all that
and you wanted to meet me then what you really wanted was to fuck me."  I
was taken aback by this.  "No," I said, "the reason I wanted to meet you
was purely to find out that you were all right.  But now that you mention
it," I paused to let them wonder what was coming, "fucking the pair of you
would be very pleasing indeed.  Don't misunderstand me, please.  Any
activity needn't be restricted to fucking."  Gales of laughter greeted
this.  A second round was got in by Robin; after all, he could afford it.
While he was at the bar Olly asked quietly if I had meant it seriously.  "I
did if you did," I replied, "but where?"

'Where' didn't turn out to be a problem.  Olly's parents were on holiday
and Olly had been left at home to feed the cat and water the plants - tasks
which he said were a very small price to pay in return for having the
freedom of his house for two weeks of concentrated fucking.  It would be
Olly's pleasure to show me the plants and to administer sexual pleasures in
his bed.  The cat was optional.  Robin would be joining us.  When Robin
came back with the beer this hastily-contrived plan was laid before him.
"Drink up then," he said, "we've work to do."

Olly's parents' house wasn't far away away, and after we'd downed the
second beer we were there by half past eight.  As we walked there we did
one of those how-many-handshakes things.  I said that I had fucked Ace, and
Ace had fucked Peter; he had fucked Robin and Robin had fucked Olly.  "No,
it's shorter than that," said Olly.  "You say you've fucked Peter and Peter
fucked me."  I said that I looked forward to making the chain even shorter.
More laughter - I liked these boys.  They were easy companions to an old
bugger like me, nearly twice their age.  When we got to Olly's place he
took us up to his room.  He had a good-sized double bed, and he and Robin
had clearly made fairly recent use of it.  The room reeked of sex and the
bed was crumpled.  "I like the cosy feeling you have here," I said.  Olly
grinned.  "Yeah.  I'll have to have it hosed down before they get back."

Soon, very soon, we were all naked and ready, very ready, for action.
Robin and Olly had beautifully fit athletic bodies.  They were quite alike
in their interesting areas.  Both had decent-sized uncut cocks.  Olly's
balls hung much lower than Robin's but, despite the demands made on them in
Olly's parents' absence, both sets were full and promising.  Neither of
them had much hair - did they shave occasionally, I wondered.  Like a pair
of mannequins they twirled before my feasting eyes, grinning like monkeys.
"Would you like to see our arse, kind sir?" asked Olly.  They didn't wait
for an answer but stopped their pirouetting facing away from me, legs
apart.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing when they both bent forward to
touch their toes.  Two things quickly became apparent.  The first was that
they were clearly both gymnasts (they told me later that they competed for
their county, and were fierce rivals in inter-school competitions: "the
loser isn't allowed to cum for three days," said Robin); of more immediate
interest were two lovely arseholes, pinky-brown and ready for action.  Not
a hair to be seen either.

"We generally toss a coin to see who's top today," said Olly, "but as we
have a guest we'll allow you to choose what's going to happen."  I had to
think quickly: I had in practice got a bit under three hours.  "I want each
of you to cum in my mouth," I said, "as I love the taste of fresh cum."
The boys agreed that delivering this boon would be pleasing for them as
well.  I went on.  "I'd like to fuck both of you if you think you can take
it."  I said this teasingly, partly to see what reaction I got.  Neither of
them seemed much bothered by the likely ordeal of being penetrated by my
nine hard inches; on the contrary I formed the impression that it would be
entirely to their liking.  Their cocks were about two inches shorter than
mine, so the last two inches might well be the Heineken ones.  "Why don't
you toss the ritual coin to see who gets in my mouth first?"

Olly solemnly produced a coin from beside the bed.  "You call," he said.
"Heads," said Robin.  Heads it was.  I got onto the bed on my back and
Robin knelt over me chest, his cock a few inches from my lips.  I reached
round his hips and felt his arsehole - it was lubed!  "Do you keep yourself
lubed all the time?" I asked.  "No, silly, but it was pretty obvious that
you were going to fuck us after Olly and I talked about it, so we lubed up
before coming to the pub.  Now do something more interesting that just ask
questions, please."  In went a finger, then another, both a long way in and
both producing a mew of pleasure.  "Niiiice!"  A third would, I felt, be
welcome, so I moved him slightly to get right in.  If he hadn't had this
treatment before then he would cum with very little warning, and I didn't
want my treat to go anywhere else but straight into my mouth.  The third
finger went in, and I set about the familiar prostate process.  Robin
yelped, "Oh fuck, Olly, you're going to have to learn this."  Olly was
watching.  "Peter did that to me that night in the tent," he said, "I
remember now."  "Oh God! it's so fucking good I'm nearly there!" cried
Robin, just in time for him to get his cock between my lips.  His cum
wasn't plentiful - just three good pulses - but it was rich and creamy.  I
rolled it round my mouth before swallowing.  "Very tasty," I said, "essence
of boy 1944.  A good vintage."  "Fuck me now," Robin demanded, "I'm boiling
in there."

As I was on my back it seemed only sensible for him to move the few inches
necessary to lower himself onto my cock.  His 'in there' boilingness was
such that when he lowered himself I slipped right in.  I almost said
'without touching the sides' but the sides were hot and wet and welcoming.
I bottomed out (in?) and he groaned.  "Oh God! Olly, this cock is so
fucking big.  You'll love it."  Stimulated by praise of this kind I started
to give the boy what he so urgently sought.  Long slow withdrawal, almost
all the way out, pause while my cockhead stretched his arse lips ("mmm!"),
swift upward thrust all the way in ("aah!"); repeat, as the knitting
patterns say, until the process is complete.  Completion came for me after
about eight minutes, and I poured my first load of 1961 deep up inside a
very sweaty Robin.  I had been concentrating in the last half dozen
strokes, as you do, and I had failed to notice that Robin had squirted a
second coming onto my chest.  I thought I had detected a tightening of the
dark velvet tunnel I was fucking.  I withdrew.  Cum ran out of his arse
onto my wilting cock.  Olly, a true scout, full of preparation, was
standing by (kneeling, actually) and hoovered up all the juicy remains,
smacking his lips theatrically.  "I have made notes," he said, " and once
I've endured the practical I'm sure I can repeat the process.  Now I don't
know about you two, but the beer is pressing."

Both boys knew I had read, and told them that I had enjoyed reading, and
was envious of the actions recorded in, the diary, so they both assumed
that the losing of the beer was something in which all three of us would
participate.  The shower was roomy enough for two, but three was pushing
it.  However we were very happy to press together and soon the beer was
gurgling down the plug, having coated the drinkers on its way.  There
wasn't room to bend down to drink from the tap - a pity, but not a disaster
as the taps had a richer brew to dispense later.

We stood briefly under the hot spray to get the piss off, then quickly
dried off to resume bed-based fun.  It was now Olly's turn.  I repeated
what I had done to Robin half an hour earlier.  Olly's arse was lubed and
my fingers were sucked into his body.  They danced their dance and Olly's
trigger was as sensitive as Robin's had been.  He only just got his cock to
my lips before a fountain of spunk jetted out into me.  There was a lot
more than Robin had produced - perhaps Olly had lost at gymnastics in the
last few days.  We repeated the fuck and I speared Olly less than a minute
after he had deluged my tongue.  I fucked him for about six minutes while
his groans as he bottomed on my cock grew more intense.  Suddenly he lifted
himself off and muttered, "Take me from behind, Rex, and fuck my brains
out."  He knelt and I was in him without a pause.  I fucked him as deep and
hard as I could.  Robin knew his lover's needs, and he laid down under
Olly's body, his lips ready to receive a reward of cum.  I was nearly there
... and I came, four big spurts deep inside Olly's arse.  That put Olly
over the edge and he pulsed into Robin.  Their pattern wasn't to swallow,
but to share, and a passionate smooch ensued.  It lasted a great deal
longer than was necessary for a thorough exchange of bodily fluids.  What
bound these two 17-year-olds together was a lot more than mere fucking.  On
the bed were two boys in love.

We lay together, Robin and Olly in each other's arms and I beside them.
These were the last people I would ever fuck.  I was glad that it had been
so good for all of us.  Leo would have been happy to know that.  Good-bye
again, Leo.  See you soon, I hope.

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<End of Chapter 24>

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