Date: Sun, 13 Aug 2017 09:23:56 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Lion-King Chapter 7 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 7 31 August 2007. This was a day memorable only for being ghastly. I'd eaten something bad the day before and. spent the whole night and this morning in bed or in the bathroom, leaking copiously and frequently from both ends. I felt well enough by mid-afternoon to sit on the balcony where Leo brought me mint tea now and again. Leo is a lovely man, and I couldn't wish for a kinder husband, but he's not very good with illness. Since all I wanted was to suffer in isolation, if not silence, I wasn't bothered. The mint tea was nice, though, and stayed down. In the evening Mustafa came to sit with me - a kind gesture. Tomorrow he and I would resume relations, but today there is nothing uplifting to report. Mustafa was the least interesting of the five brothers. He knew that it was his turn to contribute to the family's income by being our houseboy for a month, and the twins - only a year older than Mustafa - had no doubt briefed him enthusiastically. He was a later developer than any of the others, and only at 16 had he the sexual development of the other brothers at 13 or 14. Poor Mustafa: he must have come in for some fraternal ribbing. I don't think he enjoyed sex with Leo and me very much. He participated, and when he came his spunk was as plentiful and tasty, and shot as far. But if you left out the 30 seconds before he came and the 30 seconds after, the rest of the time he spent fucking and sucking (and being fucked and sucked) was dutiful, rather than joyous. It wasn't ideal, either, that Mustafa didn't come to us until he was 15. The following year - 2008 - he was 16 and well past the age that Leo and I found exciting. ***** 31 August 2005. Haroun - Hari - is still inconsolable about Amin. I know how he feels. When Ace was killed it was as though my right arm had been cut off. He and I had done everything together, and even the Army, bless them (not two words you'll often find in association with the two immediately preceding), had had the good sense to keep us together. I'd been 28; Hari was only 14, and adolescent boys, even ones as developed in other ways as Hari, haven't had the time to develop protective armour. He knows about Ace - well, he knows about the loss of Ace - so he knows I will understand if he can't handle it. I like Hari - I mean I like him as a boy, not just sexually. He's a nice boy, and we can talk together (not just about Amin and how he misses him) without sex coming into it. I rather like this relationship. Mind you, the sex side is pretty spectacular too. Maybe it's his vulnerability now, maybe it's just that he's older, but sex with Hari in 2005 is a lot more emotionally satisfying than sex with the twins had been in 2003. You'll want to hear about Amin. Tomorrow, two years ago, you'll hear a great deal about him, and I won't spoil your excitement now. Now I'll tell you about his death. It happened four months ago. He and Hari had been out playing some sort of I-dare-you game in the souk and they were beginning to get bored. Hari suggested one last exciting dare, and Amin agreed that it would be the last one. Win or lose one of them would get the other one's body to do what he liked with for a whole hour. You mustn't think that either twin's body was virgin territory, as it were, to his brother: they had been doing pretty much what Ace and I had been doing (and probably all identical twins had been doing since one of them discovered wanking), but they had always maintained reciprocity in their sexual activities since that first day. ("Guess what Abdul showed me after school," Hari, aged 7, had said.). No, this time one twin would have an hour - a whole hour - in which to do whatever he liked, wherever he liked in or on his brother, or, come to that, to manipulate his brother in whatever erotic was his inventiveness could conjure up in 60 minutes. This was a dare well worth winning. (It hasn't escaped you, nor did it escape Hari and Amin, that it wouldn't be a disaster to lose it either.) The dare was accepted. Amin asked what he had to do. "Steal a handful of figs from that stall and run away, but you mustn't get caught or you lose." "Easy," cried Amin, the last sounds he ever made apart from the scream as the lorry ran over him as he dashed out of the souk. When Hari told me this, cradled in my arms (Leo was out somewhere) and sobbing his heart out, it wasn't long before I was sobbing too. There were so many similarities. The suddenness, the road accident, the survivor's feeling of responsibility. Hari had suggested the dare; all those years ago we had wanted to get back to Harlow from Oxford before the rain became too heavy. The rain, the fucking rain, the rain that made Ace skid. The rain that would figure again. What Hari misses, just as I did for several years - until I met Leo, in fact - was The Other. Identical twins are completely unequipped for being alone. Leo enjoyed sex with Hari, and Hari was the only one of the brothers who really enjoyed a threesome (Zeb and Hassan were happy with the occasional threesome, but Hari preferred it that way). His ideal was to have Leo fucking him from behind while I 69ed with him with me underneath. It took a few tries before we got it right, but once we'd worked it out it became the norm for the years after Amin died. Today was no exception. It started, as it usually did, in bed after our siesta. Hari, as always in the middle, turned to Leo and planted his lips on Leo's cock. Leo's cock generally wakes from siesta more quickly than Leo's brain, but the two organs are used to receiving messages, and Leo's body gets the picture fast enough. Leo's cock hardened under Hari's ministrations, and when the boy was satisfied he turned his attention to me. The combination of Leo's lips on mine ("Come on, Rex, Hari's hungry again") and Hari's lips on my cock were sufficient encouragement. Foreplay with Hari isn't necessary - he keeps his arse in a state or permanent readiness - but foreplay with a boy is always pleasant, so I spend an unnecessary five minutes checking with my tongue and a finger or two that Leo would not harm the boy when he plunged in. Leo's always amused, in a tolerant way, by my absorption with this task, and kept himself up to the mark by allowing Hari to suck his cock for the necessary five minutes. I indicated to Leo that we could now proceed. I laid down on my back and Hari got into position on top of me, his shoulders and chest on my belly, his arse in the air and his cock by my mouth. He and I could suck each other's cock and, with minimal effort, each other's balls, while Hari's arse would be open and available, begging for Leo's cock to stretch it. Hari's arse isn't exactly magic, but it comes close. In the ordinary way his rosebud is a slightly darker shade of brown - not much, but noticeable - than his perineum, just like all boys. It's when he gets excited that things change. Whether it's a genetic thing in this family, or whether these boys learn quickly from the treatment their arses get from Leo and me, I'll never know, but it doesn't take much from a questing tongue or finger for the rosebud to open, inviting the visitor in. Apart from Faruq's sons no other boy's arse has done this. The wrinkled bud widens, the wrinkles disappear as the ring opens, the pink lips appear almost beckoning like a flower does to a bee: come in, friend, and gather my nectar. Before I surrender possession of this gorgeous arse to Leo I give it a licking. It takes only three or four swipes for it to be bee-time. Much as I want nectar it's not for me today. Leo will do the gathering before he fucks the boy. I gazed at Hari's cock before taking it in: slim, hard, brown, straight as a nail, 5 inches of adolescent power and lust. His balls, inches from my eyes, were hairless and full of promise. Soon the magic would start and the complicated, but always thrilling, process of getting spunk out of those plums in their soft suede sack, up the length of his lovely cock, spurting out of the wide piss-slit in the flaring head of his cock, and into my dark warm mouth, would start again. I put my lips round his cock and, as I did so, felt Hari's lips on mine. I felt Leo move into position behind Hari, and felt Hari's body press forward - more cock in my mouth - as Leo rimmed him and a few minutes later started to fuck him. The three of us were in no hurry. We had perfected this way of love-making over many hot Tangier afternoons. Hari was unusual for a teenager in that he was happy to let his orgasm come in its own good time, brought on by Leo and me at our pace. (Having said that, his morning cum in my mouth was always a much more urgent affair, seldom lasting more than a minute or two: but always a delightful minute or two for both of us.) We'd been spit-roasting Hari for twenty minutes when Leo began to speed up. The boy and I knew this signal, and we stopped sucking each other: Hari is going to get bounced about as Leo's urgency mounts. We content each other with long lascivious licks, with cock-heads getting much attention. Leo fucks faster and faster and then he's there, he's filling Hari's gorgeous arse with cum. After his spurting cock has finished he stays in, keeping still while still stretching Hari: it's my turn now. Hari and I return to the sucking - it's urgent now. Once Hari can feel Leo's cum in him he needs me to cum in his mouth. His tongue and lips are skilled, and soon I can feel my balls tightening. I can still deliver a useful load, and I feel it in my cock and pulsing onto Hari's tongue. He purrs - there's no other word for it - as my spunk coats his tongue before he swirls it round his mouth and swallows it. He's not a sharer, this boy. Now Leo pulls out and Hari quickly turns round. I press my face into the boy's arse, pulling his cheeks apart and getting my lips onto their target. I savour the heady scent of the boy's recently-fucked arse and lovely Leo's cum. Two of the hottest tastes in the world. After five minutes Hari's arse is clean enough to eat your lunch from - as I have just done with Leo's mid-afternoon snack. There's still time for a nice relaxing cuddle, so we get back into bed and snooze, Leo on his side, I on mine, and slim, fulfilled Hari in between us. I can feel Leo stroking the boy's chest - Leo's good at nipples - while I run my fingers lightly over his belly. I'm writing this, as usual, at 11 before we sleep and I am whisked back another two years, but it's only 11.40 and there's still time for another touch of Hari in the night ... =============================================================================== badboi666@btinternet.com is where you should sent comments and suggestions