This story is erotic fiction. If you are under eighteen, or if there is any other legal prohibition on you reading this type of material, you should leave this page now. Both I and Nifty disclaim any responsibility for the consequences that may arise from you ignoring this recommendation.
The story concerns underage boys having sex with each other and with an adult male. If this is not the type of thing that you wish to read, I wonder how you got here in the first place. I suggest that you leave this page immediately.
If you do decide to read on, please remember that this story is fiction. Do not try this at home!
Feedback will be more than welcome. Please send you comments to email@example.com and I’ll get back to you.
By Van Deeman
Mr. Jones pulled a pillow into the middle of the bed, covering it with an old towel.
“You know where I want you,” he said.
Northam complied readily, lying on his tummy, the pillow beneath his hips, his legs spread apart. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d been in this position. Mr. Jones knelt between the boy’s legs, admiring the beautiful twelve year old lying submissively in front of him, his long legs slim but well muscled, his back strong and athletic, his ear lobes just visible under his wavy blond hair. But all were surpassed by Northam’s bottom, the most perfect specimen the man could imagine, the reddening around the boy’s anus a clear indication of the activities to which it had been subject.
Mr. Jones lowered himself into position, guiding his penis onto the boy’s sphincter, penetrating him with a singe thrust. He continued to press down, driving his rampant seven inch cock deeper and deeper into Northam’s rectum, finally thrusting it over the lad’s knobbly prostate. Northam sighed with satisfaction.
“You love this, don’t you?” Mr. Jones growled.
“Oh yes sir!” Northam enthused, anticipating what was about to happen.
Mr. Jones set to work, fucking the boy remorselessly. Northam moaned and whimpered, consumed by the wonderful sensations that his housemaster was giving him. His four and a half inch uncut penis throbbed and tingled, boyish precum leaking from the tip. Suddenly he shuddered from head to toe. His breathing became harsh and uneven, his sphincter tightening abruptly around the man’s invading cock. A moment later, his penis jerked wildly, little jets of watery fluid spurting onto the towel.
“Oh, you sexy boy!” Mr. Jones rasped. “That was what you wanted! Now get ready for what I’ve got for you!”
He thrust in one final time, his balls churning into action. Thick creamy semen surged through his cock, spurting powerfully into the boy’s rectum. After several seconds, he gently withdrew. He lay down, breathing heavily. Northam turned to face him.
“This is the boy I want you to work on,” Mr. Jones said, passing Northam a school photograph. It depicted a boy with hazel eyes, elfin features and dark, collar length hair. “He’s in Third Year. His name’s Ainsworth.”
“Oh, he’s cute, isn’t he sir?” Northam cooed.
“Oh yes,” Mr. Jones assured him. “He’s very slim too.”
“Sounds wonderful, sir!” Northam said, visualising the ten year old’s small, firm bottom.
“As you might guess, he’s not the most robust, “Mr. Jones went on. “Just recently, he’s been picked on by these two, Bennett and Armstrong.”
He passed Northam two more photographs, this time of rather rough looking boys.
“Oafs, the pair of them,” Mr Jones went on.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we sir?” Northam ventured.
“I think you should deal with it,” Mr. Jones said. “Be as severe as you like. You have my full backing.” He kissed Northam on the forehead. “Right, lesson over!” he added. “You’d better be going.”
Northam hurried to the bathroom, depositing the housemaster’s spunk in the toilet bowl. After wiping himself, he returned to the bed-sitting room. He dressed in his school uniform, white cotton briefs, white school shirt, the black tie with the school crest and gold pinstripes, a grey v-necked sweater with black and gold trim, and tight grey shorts that showed off most of his thighs. Finally he pulled on his grey knee-length socks and neat black shoes.
“Thank you sir,” he said, standing up. “I’m going now.”
“We’ll have another lesson the day after tomorrow,” Mr. Jones said, smiling. “I’ll look forward to hearing how you’ve been getting on.”
- - - - - - - - - - -
Officially, Northam visited the housemaster’s flat for extra mathematics lessons. In a few weeks, he would be sitting the scholarship examination, and his mathematics, so Mr. Jones said, needed attention, a deception in which Northam willingly participated. Seducing him had been easy. Mr. Jones had done it two years ago, within a month of arriving at the school. Though outwardly confident, the boy had welcomed the new housemaster’s attention and been eager for each sexual experience that the man had given him.
Northam had squealed the first time Mr. Jones had penetrated him. In time honoured tradition, the housemaster had simply stuffed the boy’s underpants into his mouth, certain in the knowledge that once he began to work on the boy’s prostate, the shock and pain would be quickly forgotten. It was not a misjudgement. Northam was such a beautiful boy, Mr. Jones reflected, and so amenable, but in less than a year he would start at his public school. A successor would have to be found.
Though casual sex among the boys was quite common, it was mainly limited to mutual masturbation. Relationships between boys and masters, though not unknown, had to be kept strictly out of sight. Mr. Jones was an outstanding teacher. His appointment to teach mathematics and run the boarding house had been a great success. He was liked and respected by boys, parents and colleagues. Even so, discretion was essential. He needed to tread carefully, especially as the current third year contained nobody that he could easily seduce himself.
And so he had called on Northam’s services. The boy had been producing spunk for several weeks. It was time, Mr. Jones considered, for him to initiate a younger boy. And so he’d broached the idea. Northam had jumped at it.
Mr. Jones’ reasoning was simple. The artistic, intelligent Ainsworth, though very attractive, was sensitive and somewhat withdrawn. If he rejected Northam’s advances, nothing had been lost. If Northam was successful, however, not only would a successor have been found, but both he and Northam would have a cute ten year old to fuck.
- - - - - - - - - -
Northam found no difficulty in locating Ainsworth. Keeping an eye on him would a pleasure. The boy was even cuter than the photograph had suggested, his bottom even more delectable than he’d imagined. Ainsworth seemed to be something of a loner, Northam observed, an obvious target for the bullies.
He didn’t have to wait long for them to put in an appearance. As Ainsworth stood on his own they swaggered up to him, taunting him, pushing him, one of them casually kicking him in the shins. It was time for action. Northam strode towards them.
“You two!” he snapped. “Stay right where you are!”
They turned to face him, shocked that anyone had intervened.
“We weren’t doing anything,” the kicker bleated.
“So if I were to kick you, you’d think I wasn’t doing anything?” Northam suggested. “You’re pathetic! Name?”
The boy didn’t answer.
“I asked you your name,” Northam repeated coldly, “Or have you forgotten it?”
“Bennett,” the boy replied sullenly.
“Show me,” Northam insisted.
Bennett pulled his school diary from his bag. As he did so, his accomplice attempted to slip away. Northam shot out a hand, grabbing him by the hair.
“I don’t recall telling you to go anywhere!” Northam snarled, pulling him back. “I want your school diary, now!”
The boy handed it over.
“Armstrong.” Northam sneered. “Bennett and Armstrong. You are a disgrace!”
He placed his right foot on top of Bennett’s left.
“Oh, look!” he said mockingly. “Your foot seems to be under mine. Now let me spell this out for you. I’m going to be watching you. If I catch you bullying Ainsworth again, or any other boy for that matter, I will report the matter to Mr. Jones. And you know what he’ll do, don’t you?”
Fear showed in their eyes. Unintelligent as they were, they knew exactly what the housemaster would do. They’d both been caned before, a couple of strokes on the hand for insolence and insubordination, so they knew all about the power of Mr. Jones right arm. And for bullying it would be much worse, six strokes on the bottom, with only the scant protection afforded by their underpants, a painful, humiliating experience that neither of them wished to undergo. Since his arrival, Mr. Jones had only caned two boys in this manner, but it had established his reputation.
“Off you go then!” Northam ordered, removing his foot from on top of Bennett’s.
The bullies strong slunk away.
“Are you alright, Ainsworth?” Northam asked, smiling at the bewildered ten year old. “Mr. Jones was concerned that you might be getting picked on. He asked me to keep an eye out for you.”
“Thanks,” Ainsworth answered, his head still spinning from the events of the past couple of minutes.
“So what’s your first name?” Northam asked.
“M-m-mark,” Ainsworth stammered, still hardly able to believe what had just occurred.
“Hi, I’m James Northam,” the older boy said confidently.
Ainsworth was awestruck, mesmerised by the handsome older boy who had dismissed his tormentors with such consummate ease. He was painfully shy and detested the rough games that most of his contemporaries enjoyed. In consequence, most boys simply ignored him. Those that didn’t picked on him. To have this boy-god take an interest in him was almost magical.
“You don’t have to put up with that sort of treatment, Mark,” Northam continued. “If they or anyone else is picking on you, I want you to tell me, okay?”
“Yes, Northam,” Ainsworth acknowledged.
“Call me James,” Northam corrected.
“Yes, James,” Ainsworth responded.
He was completely under Northam’s spell. Boys called each other by their surnames. First names were hardly ever used. For the older boy to have exchanged first names with him was an unimaginable privilege. He would do anything Northam wanted, anything at all.
- - - - - - - - - -
Following Mr. Jones’s advice, Northam took his time. Although privately desperate for their relationship to advance, he didn’t want to frighten Ainsworth by appearing too eager. So he checked in with him at break times, saying hello and asking if he was alright.
The strategy was perfect. Ainsworth treasured those moments. They were the highlight of his existence. How he wished they could go on longer. Gradually, their encounters stretched to a minute or so, or even a little longer, and always left Ainsworth wanting more.
- - - - - - - - -
With supper over, the boys were free until bedtime. Northam found Ainsworth on the corridor near the junior common room. They chatted for well over a minute, Ainsworth totally enraptured. It was time for Northam to make his move.
“I need a piss,” he said, smiling.
He turned, heading for the toilets near the housemaster’s flat. Without even thinking about it, Ainsworth accompanied him, trotting alongside like a well-trained puppy. Northam stepped up to the urinal and opened his shorts. Standing right next to him, Ainsworth did likewise.
Having finished peeing, Ainsworth was about to re-fasten his shorts, but Northam, it seemed, had not finished. He waited. Still Northam didn’t move. Almost in spite of himself, Ainsworth peeked across. His eyes widened. Northam wasn’t peeing. The older boy’s penis, much larger than his own, was fully erect. More than that, Northam was gently stroking it.
Ainsworth was transfixed, unable to take his eyes off it, his own little spike rising smartly to attention. Northam turned towards him smiling.
“Let’s go in there,” he suggested, indicating the stalls behind them.
“Suppose somebody sees us?” Ainsworth queried.
“Don’t worry,” Northam reassured him. “Jonesy’s busy.”
Ainsworth followed Northam into the furthest stall, the older boy bolting the door behind them. Shorts and briefs were pushed down around their ankles. Northam reached out, wrapping his fingers around Ainsworth’s steel-hard penis, a little under three inches long and about as thick as two pencils side by side, a little nozzle of foreskin covering the tip. Ainsworth nervously returned the favour. It felt so good, fondling and being fondled. He had never experienced anything like it.
“Do you like it?” Northam whispered.
“Yeah!” Ainsworth breathed, his eyes sparkling.
Northam made a snap decision. Although still conscious of the need to take things slowly, Ainsworth was clearly ready for more. He sat on the toilet. Leaning forwards, he took the younger boy’s penis into his mouth, sucking it expertly, his fingers stroking between Ainsworth’s thighs and the sensitive area behind the boy’s marble-sized balls. Ainsworth was almost delirious with pleasure, as though transported to a different world, the magical sensations even better than those he had experienced earlier.
After around a minute, Northam pulled away. He stood up, licking his lips.
“Would you like to suck mine?” he asked gently.
Nervous as he was, Ainsworth couldn’t say no. He sat down, swallowing hard to summon up all his courage. Finally, he leaned forwards, closing his lips over Northam’s rampant cock. It was Northam’s turn to be enraptured. Though totally inexperienced, Ainsworth was remarkably good, the younger boy’s ministrations quickly bringing him close to orgasm.
“You can stop now,” he instructed.
Ainsworth let him go.
“Stand up,” Northam said.
Ainsworth did as he was asked.
“Now rub it,” Northam ordered.
Ainsworth took hold of Northam’s cock, masturbating it enthusiastically. Within a few seconds it came to life in his hand, little jets of boy-cum squirting onto the wall. Ainsworth gently released him.
“That was great!” Northam gasped.
“You peed up the wall!” Ainsworth declared, his eyes as big as saucers.
“That wasn’t pee,” Northam informed him. “It was spunk. Mine’s quite watery at the moment. When I get older it’ll turn white and creamy. That’s how babies are made. Daddy puts his thing into mummy until the spunk comes out. Then sometimes, if things work just right, a baby grows in mummy’s tummy.”
The boys quickly adjusted their pants and shorts, leaving the toilets without anyone seeing them. Ainsworth could hardly take it all in. What he did know was that it had been the most amazing experience of his life. He’d be ready for more any time Northam asked him.
- - - - - - - - - -
Two days later, they were back in the toilets, reprising the activities of their previous encounter. This time however, Northam sucked the younger boy much harder. Once again, Ainsworth was transported to another wonderful world, the tingling in his penis building and building until it was almost overwhelming.
Suddenly, his body convulsed. He gasped for air, his legs feeling so unsteady he had to hold onto Northam’s head to stop himself falling. In the next instant his little boy-spike swelled and pulsed, trying desperately to pump out the spunk that his balls were not yet able to make. Northam let him go, looking up and smiling.
“You had an orgasm,” Northam informed the bewildered Ainsworth. “That’s the proper name for it. Yours was dry. When you’re older, spunk will come out. We call it cumming. You won’t be able to do that just yet.”
Ainsworth knew what to do, first sucking then masturbating the older boy until the little watery jets spurted onto the wall. He was hooked. Although his orgasm had been intense, almost painful, he could hardly wait until they could do it again.
- - - - - - - - -
They visited the toilets near the housemaster’s flat every other day. Ainsworth was sure they’d be caught, but they weren’t. This seemed odd. Mr. Jones had his finger on the pulse and all the boys knew it. In this instance, however, he seemed to be totally oblivious to what was happening just a few yards from his rooms.
Two weeks had passed since their first encounter, their routine now well established. Ainsworth was sitting on the toilet confidently sucking Northam’s cock. His technique had improved immeasurably.
“You’d better stop,” Northam advised.
Ainsworth ignored him, sucking the older boy even harder.
I’m going to cum!” Northam warned.
Still Ainsworth continued. A moment later, Northam’s cock jerked in his mouth, little jets of liquid coating his tongue. It didn’t taste of anything much, Ainsworth considered. It was slightly tangy, but that was all. It certainly didn’t taste bad. And it couldn’t do him any harm, could it? He was sure it couldn’t. He took a deep breath and gulped it down, licking the head of Northam’s penis to make sure he’d taken every drop. Finally he eased himself away.
“I never thought you’d do that!” Northam whispered, smiling beatifically. “That was fantastic!”
Ainsworth glowed inwardly. He’d been sure that Northam would like what he’d just done. The events of the last few minutes had proved how right he’d been.
- - - - - - - - -
“Yesterday, Ainsworth sucked me right off,” Northam reported proudly.
“You didn’t make him, did you?” Mr. Jones enquired, concerned that Northam might have rushed things.
“No, of course not,” Northam assured him. “I warned him just like I always do. He just kept going! It was unbelievable! He swallowed it too. I didn’t make him do that either.”
“Excellent!” Mr Jones cooed. “You’ll still need to take care over the last part though. That could still go wrong, especially as he’s so slim.”
“I will, I promise,” Northam answered. “I’m not going to mess it up now.”
“So you’ll fuck him over the toilet?” Mr. Jones speculated.
“Why don’t you come into the bathroom and show me?” the housemaster suggested.
He followed the boy through. Northam stood in front of the toilet. Standing behind him, Mr Jones reached around to undo the boy’s shorts, easing them over his hips. They fell to the floor. Mr. Jones knelt down, pulling Northam’s underpants down to his ankles.
“Now bend over!” he ordered.
Northam did as he was told resting his hands on the toilet seat. Mr. Jones crawled closer, his tongue lapping eagerly at the boy’s anus before pushing right inside.
“Oh sir! Sir!” Northam moaned. “I want your thing in my boy-hole!”
Mr Jones got to his feet. He moved in close, burying his well-lubed cock deep in Northam’s rectum. He held the boy round the thighs, fucking him remorselessly, his firm, flat stomach banging repeatedly against Northam’s bottom.
“Here it cums!” he growled.
“Oh yes sir!” Northam moaned. “Fill me up!”
Mr. Jones did not disappoint, copious amounts of creamy man-spunk flooding into Northam’s bottom. Finally he withdrew. Northam stood up. He was desperate to cum. He turned around. Mr. Jones was kneeling in front of him. The housemaster plunged down on the twelve year old’s cock, sucking it as though it was the last chance he would ever get.
Within seconds, Northam’s penis exploded into action, his spunk squirting into the man’s mouth. His orgasm, however, had an inevitable side-effect, a wad of the housemaster’s semen spurting from his anus and trickling down his legs. Mr. Jones was delighted, licking up the last drops of Northam’s spunk before gently releasing the boy’s sensitive cock.
“Your spunk’s developing beautifully,” he commented, smiling. “It’s much tastier than it was. I’m not surprised Ainsworth liked it.”
- - - - - - - - -
Northam sat on the toilet, sucking steadily on Ainsworth’s penis. It was time for the next step. He retrieved the tube of gel from the pocket of his shorts, smearing some over his right index finger. He quickly located Ainsworth’s tight puckered hole, his finger gently circling it. Ainsworth did not protest. He simply stood there.
This was the moment of truth. Northam pushed firmly, his finger sliding right into the younger boy’s anus. Once again there was no protest. On the contrary, he had just provided the boy with another unimagined pleasure. Very slowly he began working his finger in and out.
Ainsworth could scarcely believe what was happening. Northam was barely sucking him, but the tingling in his penis was running out of control. Instinctively he grabbed Northam’s hair, his anus clamping tight around the older boy’s finger. Within a second his throbbing boy spike was jerking wildly in Northam’s mouth.
Northam was jubilant. Another step had been successfully completed. From here, it was only a matter of time.
- - - - - - - - -
Ten days had passed. Ainsworth had become accustomed to having not merely one finger inside him, but two. Initially, he’d found the second finger a little painful, but even then he had not protested. Keen to move to the final step, Northam had consulted with Mr. Jones.
“Only if you’re sure,” the housemaster advised.
Northam was sure. In any case, there was little more he could do. This was it. They were finally going to do it. They began as they always did, sensuously lowering each other’s shorts and pants.
“You like having my fingers up your bottom don’t you?” Northam whispered.
Ainsworth grinned and nodded.
“Bend over the toilet,” Northam urged. “It’ll feel even better like that.”
Ainsworth quickly got into position, moaning with quiet delight as the first finger was inserted. For a few seconds, the finger was worked in and out before being joined by a second one. The stimulation increased. Ainsworth was in heaven, but to his disappointment, the fingers slid out. Moments later, however, they returned, or so he thought.
Then it dawned on him. Northam had both hands around his thighs, so it couldn’t be his fingers, could it? The shock almost overwhelmed him. Northam held him firmly. Finally he began to push again, his cock advancing steadily into Ainsworth’s rectum until his stomach pressed against the younger boy’s bottom. He paused, savouring the tight little sheath that was gripping his penis.
Finally he began to fuck, his cock thrusting repeatedly over his young friend’s sex-gland. Ainsworth knew what was going to happen. This was what it had been about, he realised, every bit of it, the introduction, the casual chats, the careful build-up. It had all been so that Northam could fuck him. He didn’t care. The hard young cock massaging that sensitive spot deep inside him was giving him the best feeling of his life, the shock of what Northam was doing totally forgotten.
Northam had been dreaming of this day ever since Mr. Jones had suggested it. Now he was doing it, and it was better, far better than he had ever imagined. He reached down for Ainsworth’s penis, concerned that the younger boy might have lost his erection. But he hadn’t, the boy’s rock hard prong throbbing with his heartbeat. Northam was elated, fondling it eagerly while fucking the boy even harder. Ainsworth shook from head to toe, his sphincter tightening abruptly around Northam’s cock. His penis sprang into action, pulsing wildly between Northam’s fingers.
“Oh fuck!” Northam groaned. “I’m going to cum!”
He buried his cock in the younger boy’s rectum, volleys of boy-spunk squirting deep into Ainsworth’s bottom. He was ecstatic. He had finally done it and it had been the most magical experience ever. Nothing could ever feel as good as that.
- - - - - - - - -
“I did it,” Northam announced triumphantly. “I fucked him!”
“And?” Mr. Jones enquired.
“Fantastic!” Northam stated. “He dry-cummed while I was up him.”
“So he didn’t cry out then?”
“No, just winced a bit when he realised what I was doing. But once I got going, he loved it!”
“Wonderful,” the housemaster cooed. “You’ve done an excellent job. I knew you would. I’ll give you a week or so to get him used to it. Then it’ll be my turn.”
- - - - - - - -
It was Friday lunchtime, a little over a week later. Northam and Ainsworth were back in the toilets. Fucking had become part of their routine. They wouldn’t have dreamed of not doing it. Mr. Jones crept noiselessly into the toilets. The stall next to the wall was occupied, just as he knew it would be. He entered the adjacent one, climbing silently onto the toilet seat. He looked over the partition.
The sight that greeted him was exactly what he’d hoped for. Ainsworth, his shorts and pants around his ankles, his shirt and sweater pushed up under his armpits, was bending over the toilet, his hands gripping the seat. Northam, similarly attired, was standing behind him, energetically thrusting his penis into Ainsworth’s small, tight bottom.
Mr. Jones was overjoyed, his cock bursting to escape the confines of his briefs. Back at his own prep school, such activities had been commonplace, he reflected. At the age of ten he had lost his cherry to the school rugby captain. Two years later, it had been his turn to pop the cork of a cute ten year old. He’d been fucking preteen boys ever since.
Northam grinned up at him. Reaching down, he took hold of Ainsworth’s throbbing penis. The reaction was almost immediate, Ainsworth emitting tiny squeaks as his little cock sprang to life in the older boy’s fingers. Northam redoubled his efforts. Within a few seconds he deposited his boy-cum in Ainsworth’s rectum. Mr. Jones carefully descended from this perch and left the toilet, waiting outside on the corridor. Barely a minute later, Northam appeared, looking very pleased with himself.
“Well done!” Mr. Jones whispered. “I’ll see you later.”
Northam went happily on his way. Shortly afterwards, Ainsworth emerged. He was alarmed to find Mr. Jones waiting for him.
“Will you come with me please?” the Housemaster said. “I need to talk to you.”
Ainsworth was almost in tears. He knew they’d get caught and now they had been. But where was Northam?”
“Don’t worry,” Mr. Jones reassured him. “You’re not in trouble.”
Ainsworth was bewildered. If he wasn’t in trouble, why did Mr. Jones want to talk to him? The housemaster ushered him through his office and into his bed sitting room. Ainsworth was more puzzled than ever. Why hadn’t Mr. Jones talked to him in the office?
“Sit down,” Mr. Jones said, indicating the sofa.
Still apprehensive, Ainsworth did as he was asked. Mr. Jones sat down next to him.
“Do you like Northam?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” Ainsworth replied. “He’s really nice.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Mr. Jones said, smiling. “He likes you too. He’s told me. And did you like what the two of you were doing? It’s okay. I was in the next stall, looking over at you. I saw it all. You can tell me the truth. You did like it, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir,” Ainsworth admitted.
“Wonderful!” Mr. Jones breathed. He moved closer, putting his arm around Ainsworth’s shoulder, his fingers gently stroking the boy’s slender thighs. “It’s great to have a special friend that you can enjoy yourself with. Northam likes it a lot.”
Ainsworth didn’t know what to say, or even what to think. Here he was, sitting on the housemaster’s sofa, having his legs stroked, his little penis throbbing with excitement. It was like an Alice in Wonderland experience, in which he had been transported to a parallel world in which normal rules no longer applied.
“So do you and Northam . . . ?” he ventured.
“Oh yes,” Mr. Jones confirmed. “Northam has been my special friend for the past couple of years. But he’ll be leaving in a few months, so I’ll need to find someone else, won’t I?”
The light finally dawned. That was why he was here, Ainsworth realised. Northam and Mr. Jones had planned the whole thing. If Mr. Jones had tried this with him before he’d met Northam, he’d have panicked, fearful of what might happen. He would have started crying and begged the man to stop. But not now, Northam had seen to that. He liked Mr. Jones. He was the best teacher he’d ever had. And after everything that he’d experienced with Northam, he liked having sex too.
“Stand up,” Mr. Jones requested.
Ainsworth got to his feet. The housemaster undid the clip on the ten year old’s shorts and pulled down the zip, the boy so slim that they fell immediately to the floor.
“Pull your shirt up,” Mr. Jones asked.
Once more, Ainsworth did as he was asked. Mr Jones hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the boy’s briefs. He carefully eased them down his legs, noting the damp patch where Northam’s spunk had begun to seep out. Mr. Jones took Ainsworth’s erect penis into his mouth, sucking it hungrily. Without even thinking about it, Ainsworth ran his fingers through the man’s thick dark hair. After around a minute, Mr. Jones let him go. He smiled up at him, licking his lips.
“Beautiful!” he breathed. “Why don’t you find out what I’ve got for you?”
Though somewhat apprehensive, Ainsworth knelt on the floor, reaching up to undo the housemaster’s trousers, Mr. Jones lifting himself slightly off his seat to allow them to fall around his thighs. His briefs quickly followed.
Ainsworth’s eyes widened. The man’s penis was much longer than Northam’s. It was thicker too. But he was not deterred. Holding it around the base, he closed his lips over it. He couldn’t get too far down, three inches at most. He began to suck. Mr. Jones was ecstatic.
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” he groaned, ruffling Ainsworth’s hair. “You are such a good boy!”
It was not long, however, before Ainsworth’s jaw began to ache. He pulled away, looking up expectantly.
“Stand up and turn round,” Mr. Jones said.
Ainsworth obeyed immediately.
“Bend over there,” the Housemaster instructed, pointing to the dining chair that he had left there for the purpose. “I want to see your bottom.”
Ainsworth got into position. Mr. Jones carefully parted the boy’s cheeks to examine his rosebud entrance. It was very small, he noted, quite remarkable that Northam had been able to get his penis into it. But he had, the reddening around it was testament to that. And in just a few minutes, so would he. He flicked out his tongue, eagerly lapping at it.
“Oooh, sir!” Ainsworth moaned, almost overcome by this new sensation.
Mr. Jones pushed right inside, savouring the taste of Northam’s watery spunk. Ainsworth squirmed with pleasure, barely able to control himself. Mr. Jones stood up. The boy had been fucked only fifteen minutes earlier. There was no need for further preparation. He guided his cock onto Ainsworth’s rear entrance. He pushed firmly. After a moment’s resistance, he was in.
“Oooh, sir!” Ainsworth repeated, his anus having been stretched much further than he was used to. “You’re so big!”
But there was no respite, Mr. Jones steadily penetrating him deeper and deeper, his sphincter being stretched even more as the man’s penis thickened towards the base. Finally he had it all, the housemaster’s pubic hair tight against his bottom. The boy was beautifully slim and tight, Mr. Jones observed, as tight as any boy he’d fucked.
The man’s cock slowly pulled back until little more than the head remained inside. A moment later it drove back in again, thrusting directly over Ainsworth’s prostate. Within seconds he was being fucked with long, powerful strokes. Gradually the pace increased, the combination of pain and pleasure taking the boy to heights he had never even dreamed of.
“Oh, sir!” he begged. “Play with my wee-wee!”
Mr. Jones reached down, taking hold of the boy’s throbbing spike, just as he’d seen Northam do. The reaction was much the same as he’d observed earlier.
“Oooh! Oooh!! Oooh!!” Ainsworth squeaked, shaking like a jelly, his little penis twitching uncontrollably in Mr. Jones’ hand.
Before he could recover his senses, he was once more completely impaled, the housemaster gripping him round the thighs. The man’s cock jerked violently, prodigious amounts of gooey semen filling his rectum. Finally, it slid out. The boy’s anus twitched involuntarily, a little stream of spunk squirting out and running down his thighs.
“You’d better go to the bathroom,” Mr Jones said gently. “It’s through there.”
Somewhat awkwardly, Ainsworth made his way out of the sitting room. He was sore, but happy. Along with Northam, he was Mr. Jones’ boy. He wasn’t used to being ‘the chosen one’. It was a very special feeling.
Mr. Jones was triumphant. Northam had done a wonderful job. Ainsworth was a total delight, performing even better than he’d dared to hope. After a few minutes, the boy reappeared.
“So when will I see you again, sir?” he asked, pulling on his school uniform.
“Tomorrow,” Mr. Jones answered. “Northam will tell you.”
“You mean we’ll come here together?” Ainsworth asked, his eyes widening.
“Wait and see,” the housemaster said, smiling warmly at his new special friend.
- - - - - - - -
It was after supper when Northam reported for his extra maths lesson.
“So how did you get on with Ainsworth, sir?” he asked, giving Mr. Jones a cheeky grin.
“Wonderfully!” Mr. Jones responded. “You’ve done a great job.”
“So how did you have him?” Northam demanded. “On his tummy?”
“No, the same way that you did,” the housemaster said.
“I want him on his tummy,” Northam said firmly. “Will you have him like that tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” Mr. Jones said guardedly. “We’ll have to see. I’ll leave you to tell him the arrangements.”
“Did he squeal when you stuck it up him?” Northam asked, his excitement all too obvious.
“No, just gasped a little, told me how big I was,” Mr. Jones answered. “He took it beautifully, considering how small he is back there. Begged me to play with his wee-wee.”
“Oh he loves that!” Northam said, smirking. “Did he dry cum?”
“Oh, yes!” Mr. Jones confirmed. “Horny little thing took me right over the edge. I must have filled him right up. He started leaking the moment I pulled out.”
“I didn’t do that, did I sir?” Northam queried. “I only leak when you suck me off afterwards.”
“You were never as scrawny as he is,” Mr. Jones countered.
“So how are you going to have me now sir?” Northam asked expectantly.
“I think the same way would be appropriate, don’t you?”
“And will you make me cum while you’re fucking me, sir?”
“Oh, I think I can do that,” Mr. Jones confirmed. “Now turn round.”
Northam turned his back. Mr. Jones reached around to undo the boy’s shorts and push them down.
“Bend over the chair,” he ordered.
Northam still had his underpants on. He found that puzzling, but complied anyway. Mr. Jones pulled the crotch of Northam’s briefs to one side, inserting a greasy finger into the boy’s anus. After a few seconds of stimulation, he removed it. Moving in close, he thrust his hard cock into Northam’s bottom. Within a few seconds, he was fucking the boy remorselessly.
Northam hardly knew where he was, a small wet patch growing on the front of his briefs, the tingling sensations building inexorably. Almost in spite of himself he shuddered violently, three jets of boy-cum spurting from his penis.
“Oh, you naughty boy!” Mr. Jones hissed. “You’ve spunked in your pants!”
In the next instant he in unloaded, rope after rope of creamy spunk flooding into Northam’s rectum. After a lengthy pause, he withdrew.
“So how was that?” he enquired.
“Wonderful, thank you sir!” Northam said, grinning from ear to ear.
“Off you go then!” Mr. Jones said, smiling.
Northam trotted happily to the bathroom. Tomorrow was going to be special.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was Saturday afternoon. They had three hours free recreation. Accompanied by two teachers, around thirty boys took the bus into the small market town around three miles from the school, as boys from Third Year upwards were allowed to do.
Northam and Ainsworth were among them. They did not travel together, however. That might have led to awkward questions, especially for Northam. Shortly after disembarking from the bus, each of them slipped away from the other boys, meeting a few minutes later at the appointed location.
“Where are we going?” Ainsworth asked.
“You’ll see,” Northam said mysteriously, leading the way along a nondescript side street.
They stopped at a corner. Less than a minute later, Mr. Jones’ car drew up next to them. Northam ushered Ainsworth into the back seat, climbing in next to him. Ainsworth was mesmerised, wondering where Mr. Jones was taking them.
As they left the town behind, he looked out of the window, the car snaking through country lanes before pulling into the drive of a neat detached house. It was the perfect location. With a tall hedge at the front, open fields on two sides and woods on the third, there were no prying eyes to see the comings and goings. Mr. Jones let them in through the front door.
“Is this your house, sir?” Ainsworth asked, as Northam bounded up the stairs.
“Yes, this is home,” Mr. Jones confirmed, smiling. “I don’t live in school all the time, you know!”
Ainsworth was impressed. He’d never thought of it before. He followed Northam up to the first floor and into the main bedroom.
“Come here,” Northam said grinning. “It’s time to have some fun!”
The two boys quickly undressed each other. They had never seen each other naked before. Ainsworth was impressed with Northam’s slim but athletic physique, wishing that he could look like that. He was the scrawniest boy in his year, attracting derogatory comments whenever they showered together. Northam, however, didn’t share this view.
“You’re beautiful!” he whispered, guiding the younger boy onto the large double bed.
By this time, Mr. Jones was naked too. He sat down on an armless easy chair, the sort often found in the reception area of public buildings, his eyes glued to the action. The boys ran through the whole gamut, alternately fondling and sucking each other. To Mr. Jones’ amazement, they even kissed. Finally it was time. Northam moved a pillow into position.
“Lie on your tummy!” he urged.
Ainsworth did as he was asked. Northam climbed on top of him, his stiff cock spearing into the younger boy’s anus.
“Owww!” Ainsworth protested, his sphincter not as relaxed as it was when he was in his usual position.
Northam picked up Ainsworth’s discarded underpants, theatrically stuffing them into his young friend’s mouth.
“Bite on those!” he growled.
He set to work, fucking the boy as hard as he knew how. Ainsworth responded eagerly, pushing up his hips to meet Northam’s downward thrusts, the intensity building by the second. Mr. Jones was entranced. Watching this beautiful ten year old being fucked by an equally beautiful but slightly older boy was the ultimate turn-on, especially as he knew that very soon it would be his turn.
Almost without warning, Ainsworth shuddered wildly, his fingers clawing at the bed, his little boy-cock twitching against the pillow. With just a few more thrusts, Northam’s orgasm was upon him, his spunk spurting deep into the younger boy’s bottom.
After a few seconds, Northam lifted himself clear, flopping down on his back, his chest rising and falling. It had been his most exciting experience ever. He’d wanted to fuck the boy with him lying on his tummy. Now he’d done it. Ainsworth removed the underpants from his mouth, turning to look at Mr. Jones. At thirty one, the housemaster was still very much in his prime and very good looking.
“Come here,” Mr. Jones instructed.
Ainsworth got off the bed and stood in front of him.
“Turn round,” the man said, “I want to see your bottom again.”
Ainsworth turned round and bent over, anticipating the housemaster’s intentions. He was not disappointed, Mr. Jones tongue pushing right into his anus, once again encountering Northam’s spunk as it seeped slowly downwards.
“Now sit on my lap,” the housemaster said.
Ainsworth knew exactly what he meant. Placing his feet to the outside of his housemaster’s, he slowly lowered himself until the man’s penis was pressing against his rosebud entrance. He took a deep breath and pushed down, allowing Mr. Jones the enter him.
“Good boy!” Mr. Jones cooed.
Ainsworth allowed himself to sink slowly down until the housemaster’s cock was completely inside him.
“Pull the coffee table across, will you?” Mr Jones asked, addressing himself to Northam.
Northam quickly moved the coffee table so that it was right in front of Mr. Jones’ chair.
“Put your feet up there,” Mr. Jones whispered into Ainsworth’s ear.
Ainsworth lifted his feet, placing them on the edge of the coffee table. That was better! He felt comfortable, relaxed, happy to be there. Northam and Mr. Jones had looked after him, keeping the bullies away. They’d given him the most amazing experiences of his young life. Most important of all, they’d made him feel wanted, something his far too busy parents had never managed.
Northam knelt on the floor to get a better view. He swallowed hard, scarcely able to believe how much Ainsworth’s boy-hole had stretched to accommodate the housemaster’s cock.
“Suck him,” Mr. Jones ordered.
Northam crawled into position, leaning across to close his lips over Ainsworth’s penis. Mr. Jones began to pump his hips, driving his cock hard into the ten year old’s bottom, fucking him unmercifully. He licked Ainsworth’s neck, his left hand fondling the boy’s nipples, his right stroking Northam’s hair.
Life, he reflected, could hardly be better. Not only had he found a worthy successor to his beloved Northam, right at that moment he was having sex with two beautiful, horny boys. It was his ultimate good fortune. There was nothing he desired more. It would be several months before Northam left the school. He would be certain to make the most of the time they had left.