Date: Tue, 16 May 2023 12:42:59 +0200 (CEST) From: maxkent69@tutanota.com Subject: OH DANNY BOY - Max Kent - ADULT YOUTH OH, DANNY BOY DISCLAIMER As with every story that appears in Nifty, this story is complete fiction. It's a production of the imagination. And, as with every story on Nifty, it does not condone or promote illegal acts of any description. DONATIONS Nifty is a free site, but not for those who run and administer it. They need our support, not only with our stories but with our donations using link https://donate.nifty.org/ Please donate what you can. Every little bit helps. OH, DANNY BOY "Sir, sir, are you asleep? Sir, sir?" The boy's whisper became more insistent. I lay there in the dark. I knew the boy was only three feet away from me. Three feet away, in the twin bed usually occupied by visitors, and the house was crammed with visitors - extended family mainly - for the long Easter weekend. Danny and I had been exiled to the attic room, though I slept with his mum when I was staying over, while Danny slept in his bedroom/study on the second floor. I was not only the boy's mother's lover; I was his tutor and tennis coach too. The arrangement seemed to satisfy all of us, though, Danny being only thirteen, we were pretty cool around him. A lot of boys would resent having a replacement dad which I never wanted to be. At least Danny's dad had left them the house and enough money for them to live way beyond my means. "Sir, sir, I know you're not sleeping." We had an unspoken arrangement Danny would call me Sir. Everyone seemed happy about that. "Sir, sir, you're snoring. I definitely was not! There was the tinkle of laughter in Danny's voice. No surprise. There was always the tinkle of laughter in Danny's voice. It was there at 11 when I first met him, eyes finding each other across a crowded school dining hall, and it was still in his 13th year. "I can't get to sleep, sir. Too excited, I guess. Don't mind me talking. You don't have to listen. But I know you're not sleeping, sir." Danny was in full flow now. Babbling away like a busy brook. "Can we play tennis tomorrow afternoon? I know the club's open. I phoned and checked. I've got a tournament match in two weeks' time. If I don't get more coaching, I know I'll fuck it up." I gave a quiet, pretend snore. "Ooops," the boy giggled. "Sorry about the four-letter one, sir. It just slipped in, but, fuck it, I mean it. Do you like me standing on your head?" Yes, I did. Danny would deliberately mishit a tennis ball so that it flew into the upstairs viewing balcony. The area was locked. The only way to retrieve the ball was to stand on someone's shoulders, then their head, and then scramble over the wooden railing and onto the balcony. Danny chose my shoulders, my head. Did Danny know his baggy shorts and his even more baggy boxers gave an unrestricted and inevitable view of his privates, his genitals, the ping-pong-balled scrotum and the sleepy little snake that hung over them? He did. I know because I made a joke more than once about the view as he wobbled precariously on my shoulders and on my head. The knowledge encouraged him rather than detered him, and even at 13, when Danny was becoming a big boy, every session would have its moment when a mis-hit ball flew up into the viewing balcony. It became a ritual. And the ritual grew until it included Danny sliding down to 'safety', the length of his body pressed against mine. Like many young teenage boys, Danny shied away from talking about sex to adults, but seized opportunities to express their growing urges in tactile ways. Once when I was taking digital photographs of Danny on a hot sunny day racing round the tennis court on his bicycle - strictly forbidden - he threw himself to court as if shot and lay there motionless on his back. His shirt rose way up to his chest, his shorts hung low on his hips. Danny reached to pull his shirt down, then in a moment pulled it back up again. He was testing me out, and, as long as it was never expressly mentioned, he was mine for the taking. Or was he? How sure could I be of that? And did I want him that way anyway? Fucked if I knew. For two years I'd coached Danny's tennis, and tutored him in Maths. We'd spotted each other across that crowded dining room, enchanted even though it wasn't evening, and both of us had burst out laughing. For me it was those huge hazel eyes. The straight unfashionably long hair. The straight nose. The cheekbones. The flawless skin. The strong but not heavy build that made most of the other 13 year olds look like refugees from a junior school. And the supreme self-confidence of the genuinely beautiful. Were we meant to be? Who knows? But if I hadn't chosen to take a stroll by the sea that weekend, I wouldn't have come across Danny playing basketball along the path. I may never have realised we lived so near each other. I'd never have found out his mother was desperate Danny learn to play tennis, nor that the public tennis courts lay equidistant from our homes. And I couldn't have anticipated Amy - close to beautiful herself - was 'available', but we made each other laugh, and that's the secret of any successful relationship. Two years. Two years of sunny, mostly, Saturday and Sunday mornings on the tennis courts. Two years of being a special friend of the family. Two years of fun and laughter and barbecues on the beach. Two years of sharing Danny through those magical years. "Shit, sir I can't sleep. And I think I pulled a muscle. And you're no help. You're not even listening, are you? Well, are you?" My words were muffled in a sigh. "There, I knew it!" Danny was triumphant. "I knew you weren't sleeping at all, sir." "Danny,..." "Yes, sir." The eagerness in the boy's voice was comical. I knew he was on his side now, leaning on an elbow, chin cupped in one hand, staring happily across the gap, anticipating a conversation that might prove endless. "Danny, stop calling me, sir. And, Danny, shut up." "I have to call you 'sir'. You said I couldn't call you JK." "I said you couldn't call me JK when I was a teacher at school. I haven't been a teacher at your school for six months. Or haven't you noticed?" Ah, the sarcasm of teachers ... inexhaustible. "Okay then... JK." The silence that followed was for me to fill. I couldn't fill it. I could hardly breathe. Danny's face was three feet away from mine, and I had an erection that was beginning to ache. "Danny, roll over and go to sleep." "Can't. Told you I'm too excited. And I've pulled a muscle, honest." 'Honest' was intended as the clincher. "I suppose I could... you know..." "What?" Silence. "Have a wank. That always helps." I was stunned. Why was I stunned? For fuck's sake, it would be odder if a thirteen-year-old boy wasn't masturbating. No giggle, this was deadly serious. This was a new Danny. "Have a wank then," I said, as unfazed as I could manage. "But keep it quiet. You've probably already woken up the neighbours." "Don't be silly. They're at the other end of the house. And Leo" - Danny's younger brother - "wanks as well. He tries to keep it dead quiet like he wasn't doing it, but I just let him get on with it." "Well, get on with it," I whispered, my hand slipping inside my pyjama shorts, while I wondered if I could be as quiet as Leo. "It won't be enough," continued Danny, "and besides I told you I've got a pulled muscle." "How can you 'think' you've got a pulled muscle? You'd know if you had a pulled muscle." I was wide awake and happily exasperated. "Well, I know I've got a pulled something, and you should help me with it." "Why the fuck should I help you with it?" Danny cheerily tut-tutted my 'fuck'? "'Cos you're my tennis coach, and that's what coaches are supposed to do. They're supposed to tend to the players' needs." For a moment I thought Danny was taking the piss. Then I realised he was deadly serious. I heaved another sigh. "And just what do you expect me to do?" "At least check it out." "Danny..." I made one last effort to avoid the Black Hole. "...Danny it's one in the morning." "Yes, and everybody's asleep --- except US!" I had nothing left to argue with. "What do I do?" "Slide over here. On my bed. Look, I'll make room." I heard Danny budge over. I saw the moonlight slash across his bed. I edged out of mine and slid over to his. I sat there looking down at him. Christ, he was beautiful. He lay there, head on pillow, his long thick hair splayed beneath him. His pyjama top was open. The duvet pushed down to his waist, the edge of his blue boxers revealed. His torso was long, his chest sculpted, his belly completely flat, his hips like butterflies, his belly button indented. I adjusted myself to hide my arousal, glad of the moon-struck gloom. "Where is it then?" I asked stupidly. "It's between my legs, of course," Danny giggled, then added, "no, it my tummy, I mean." He reached for my hand and pressed it against his stomach - smooth, firm, warm. He moved the palm of my hand in circles against his stomach. Once I had the rhythm, his hand went under his head to cup his other hand. I sat there facing up the bed, looking into Danny's face and eyes as my hand circled and caressed his stomach. I was pleased that he kept his eyes open, seeking to absorb my face as much as mine did his. "Mmmmmm, that's nice," the boy sighed. "That's really nice." I couldn't think of anything to say. There didn't need to be anything to say. I let my hand circled up to his chest. There didn't seem to be any medical justification for this. I knew I shouldn't do it. I knew I would do it. My finger tips ran across Danny's right nipple, a hard little currant in the middle of a pale brown aureole. I slid across to his left nipple, worked it a little, and then slid down to his stomach again. "It's a bit lower," he whispered, leaving 'it' unspecified. "Duvet's in the way," I whispered. Danny reached his right hand to the duvet, raised it, and flicked it to his knees. I'd like to say I gasped. That would be an erotic note, but I didn't. I'm not sure I had the breath to gasp. Danny had an erection - a stiffy, a boner, a hard on. That doesn't do justice to it. Danny had a big hard cock, not only outlined against his thin boxer shorts, but raising his boxer shorts so that fabric was stretched into a tent. The middle of the boxers were pulled down into a V. There was a little bush, an auburn patch that slid into the holy of holies. "Please." There it was. That one single word that cleansed the doors of perception, and opened the way to heaven or to hell or to a combination of both of them. Danny raised his bottom from the bed, and left the decision to me. I slid my fingers below the elasticated waist, raised the boxers and slid them to his knees. His prick, released to the night air, literally bounced into view. Around my head I could hear the angels sing in chorus: "Free at last. God almighty, free at last." Behind me I heard Danny giggle and flutter his lips. My fingers and thumb closed round the boy's erection, his hard-on, his stiffy. The shaft was hot. No nonsense about burning my fingers or any of that nonsense, but it was hot, and it was pulsating. Ah, sweet 13. Danny was BIG. I don't know if there's any relationship between overall size and dick size, but Danny had the right size of dick for his body. Danny wasn't circumsized, few English boys are, and the foreskin slid back easily to reveal a clearly-defined little pink mouth. He was already wet and slippery. Two blue veins twined up from his balls disappearing onto the shaft an inch or so from the slightly bulbous head. The urethra was also clearly defined. Danny's legs were open, and his balls had already risen in his scrotum. I wondered how long he had lain there playing with himself, gathering the courage to take me where he wanted us to be. I held the shaft, gently squeezing, easing, then squeezing again. My free left hand pressed against Danny's stomach that was taut as a washboard. I could hear his breathing quicken and deepen. "You can kiss it if you want to." Pause. "Then you can suck it." ... thirteen years old! I lifted my face up to his. If I looked surprised, Danny didn't. "We know all about it. We all watch porn. I've been watching porn since I was about eleven." I guessed by "we" he meant his buddies, his mates, his friends. Of course, as a teacher, I knew it was happening. But I'd never twigged it was happening to Danny, and probably to Leo too. Oh brave new world! "We know about fucking, and rimming, and fisting, and..." Now I was genuinely shocked. Was nothing sacred? "Danny, I shouldn't be doing this." Not "I'd better stop doing this." "Do you know the kind of trouble I could get into? And you would get into trouble too." "How could you ever get into trouble? It's between us. Nobody will ever know - unless you tell them." How's that for turning the world upside down? "Of course I'm not going to tell anybody," I protested. "Well, I'm not," he laughed... but in a very pleasant way. "We don't care any more?" By "we", I presumed he meant kids his age. I lowered my face, breathed in deeply, and slid my lips over the head of Danny's erection, almost immediately tasting the boy's excitement. Those who have sucked the erect penis of a 13-year-old boy will know that words can never do the experience justice. Those who haven't sucked a boy's penis, but who have wanted to, will never reach that calm ecstasy through words. There is just something so right about it, especially when the boy initiates it because then you are assured you are giving as much pleasure as you are taking, and that's what makes it right. The Age of Consent has to be arbitrary, but in some sense it is sad it slashes right across that time when a boy is at his peak, the height of his needs. I don't mention girls because of the added complications of undesired pregnancies, but I know that, as a boy, I was often infuriated and frustrated that I couldn't go out and do what I wanted with my body with someone who liked me and wanted to share his with me! I kept it simple. I searched between his legs, find his anus, push my slick middle finger inside him, found his prostate gland, and gave him an orgasm he'd never forget. His bottom wriggled around my finger; I pushed it deeper; he pushed back; he whimpered. Danny's body trembled and shook. His buttocks rose from the bed. He pushed himself deeper into my throat. His tummy tightened and fluttered uncontrollably. His hands gripped my hair, pushing my head into his groin until his little bush stuck up my nose. Three - four - five - six times he forced me down while he bounced up to meet me. I tasted nothing. His semen by-passed my taste buds completely. He squirted his sperm straight down my gullet. Ihe young are so immediate. I lay there gasping and spluttering like a landed trout. I realised with some degree of unncessary shame that I'd cum, too, and cum forcefully at that. I risked a glance up at Danny. He lay there with his elbow across his eyes. I couldn't read what he was feeling. I looked down his body. His cock had softened but was still a solid if floppy snake. He took his elbow from his eyes. Thank God he was smiling. He blushed. "Do you want to rim me now? We all like looking at that." - The 'we' again. - "I washed my bumhole before I came to bed. Honest." I yanked him to me so we were face to face. "No, I do not... but thanks for the invite." "Well, I'll rim you." "Fuck off," I laughed out loud. "Don't go," he said. "Sleep in my bed," he said. He leaned into me and kissed me. He kissed me on the lips. I held the kiss. His lips played along my lips. He pushed against them. I opened my mouth. He pushed his little tongue into my mouth. He swirled his tongue in my mouth. My tounge pushed its way into his. I brushed him across the bed making room - there wasn't much - covered the single sheet over us, and we kissed each other deep. Danny tasted of mints. I wonder if he'd tasted the whisky I'd had earler. He pulled me against him. He wriggled my shorts down, past my ankles, past my feet, it wasn't easy. We were both naked. He pressed his full length against me. This thirteen-year-old boy was erect again. We fell asleep, arms round each other. I awoke from a dream to find I wasn't dreaming. I would have dreamed on if it wasn't for the choking below me. Danny - his lips around my shaft, half of my cock in his throat, his saliva running down my balls. "Careful, sweetheart," I whispered. "Don't hurt yourself. ... Don't hurt me." One hand squeezed my hairy belly. His other hand sawed between my cheeks, rubbing each time over my anus. Then a thumb trying to open me. I pushed his head back a little and pump myself rythmically in his mouth. I sensed the boy felt more relaxed - I pushed in, withdrew, pushed in withdraw. Two fingers squabbled for entrance into my hole. "No," I whispered loudly. "It's toilet time." I don't know why that triggered me. Without warning, my cock swelled, squirted, and spyrt into the boy's mouth. He choked but managed to gulp it all down - most of it. When he looked up at me, saliva and semen were hanging from his lips. I pulled him up to me and exhanged kisses... sucking back some of the cum to myself, then sharing it with him again. Thirteen-year-old Danny withdrew. Looked at me. Smiled. Kissed me on the lips. Cuddled into my shoulder - and fell sound asleep. I slid out of the bed, stepped to my own, dumped my stuff, then stepped named to the bathroom on the other side of the attic. I stepped in, turned on the shower, and whistled along with the birds welcoming the dawn. ... "Isn't that lazy bones up yet?" asked Amy. "Lots of folk are getting up. Breakfast is almost ready." "You know what teenagers are like," I said. "He was sound asleep by ten thirty. I'll nip up and call him down." "You're a sweetheart," said Amy. I showed Danny no mercy. I had him up and downstairs in fifteen minutes, though there was a price to pay - my promise to coach him a couple of hours after breakfast. Fifteen of us squeezed around the dining table, breakfast was raucous fun. Amy was lucky to have two sisters - described by Danny as "the three witches" - and everything flowed amazingly smoothly. "You're so lucky, Danny," said elder sister Emily, "to have a tutor like Jackson. Wonder if he'd tutor me." Laughter round the table. Emily, married and divorced twice, was a notorious flirt. Danny gave her the V sign, on behalf of his mum and himself, and waved a large sausage at her. "Enough's enough, Danny," I said in the way teachers do, he smiled and circumcised his sausage. Of the many things I like about Danny is his ability to focus. As soon as we started the coaching session, Danny focussed totally on learning how to hit a massive topspin forehand. To generate you need to brush up on the ball using a low to high swing path. "Danny, place the ball between the net cord and your racquiet. Use a low to high swing path and 'brush' the ball off the net cord and over the net. "Hit the off the net cord and over the net, and watch the ball rotate forward forward with top spin. The harder you hit, the more it will spin, and the higher it come off the court on the other side. "Keep on thinking: It don't mean a spin if it ain't got swing." Danny laughed, frowned, relaxed... and didn't lose concentration once though I made him hit 50 balls in succession before allowing him ten minutes of 'tennis'. Then back for another 50, and we kept up the pattern for an hour. By the end of the hour, he was hitting the ball so hard - with top spin - it was leaping over my left shoulder - or it would if I hadn't been playing it for ten years. We sat on the grassy hill around the courts and drank ice-cold lemonade his mum had stuck in a flask for us. The sweat ran down Danny's face, and, honestly, it was hard to resist licking it off his face. He'd had enough. He didn't think so, but I'm the coach. "What we doing now, JD?" "We're going down to the river. We're going to catch minows and keep them in the flask." "Great! ..... and what about tonight?" "What about tonight?" "You know." "I know what?" I got a full frontal Danny frown. "Can we sleep in your bed tonight?" "And just sleep?" He blushed and whispered: "Maybe talk a bit. I've got somethings I want to ask you. You're my tutor after all." I laughed. "Okay... but if I say 'No', it means 'No'." Danny threw his arms round me, and for a moment I was sure he was going to kiss me. "Get off! You get that sweat on me and it's YOU who'll be going into the river." "Come on then," he laughed. "Bet I get more minnows than you!" As we strolled to the river, I was thinking: Would I really have the strength to say "No" to this thirteen-year-old? Would you? The afternoon and evening were brilliant. Danny's family are a fun family and we found lots to do. Mainly competitive games. From find the Easter eggs - some of them were in the most unlikely places - to general knowledge quizzes - to Risk (for the 'boys' of all ages) - and make your own pizzas. Part of me was hoping Danny would be asleep when I got up to the attic - I was amongst the last of the company to declare for bed. Part of me was praying he wouldn't be asleep. "I've had a long shower," he said from his bed. "I need one too." "Can I have another shower with you?" "No, you cannot," I said, though I stood in the bedroom to dry myself - naked, semi-tumescent. "Will I be as big as you?" "We all end up much the same," I said. "Not the guys in the porno videos," he said. "Most of them have trunks!" "That's why they're in porno vids," I said. "Hurry up and come to bed," he said. "Hold on," I said, and pushed my bed against his and slid in. Surprise, surprise. Danny had an erection. He snuggled against me. "I thought you had questions?" "I do," he said. "Does getting fucked hurt?" he asked. "Depends," I said. "The size of the cock - the size of the hole," I said. "Does it hurt mum when you fuck her?" Silence. "That's none of your business. And we aren't fucking - we're making love." Silence. "Would you make love to me? Would you fuck me - please?" "No, Danny. I wouldn't... and I won't." "Why not? Don't you like me? I can feel your hard on. You must like me a bit." "I won't fuck you... because it would hurt... really hurt... you'd probably start bleeding. I'll never do anything to hurt you." This time the silence was prolonged. Then... "Will you let me fuck you," the boy said. "I'm not that big. I'd try not to hurt you." To be honest I had to laugh. "No, no... I'm not laughing at you. ... I'm laughing because I love you." "You love me?" "Yes, Danny. I do." Another prolonged silence. And I'd love you to fuck me - tonight - here - now. Danny's arms went round my chest as far as he could manage. "How are we going to do it? Are you going to lie on your front? Raise your bum in the air. Will I use my fingers first? My tongue?" "No. I'm staying on my back. I want to watch your face as you fuck me. And you can watch how much I love you." I lay on my back. I pulled mu legs up. The thirteen-year-old lay the length of me with his legs between mine. I opened my buttocks as far as I could and stay comfortable. I reached down and took his stiff, his hard-on, his boner, between my fingers and ran the head up and down between my cheeks... then centre the head on my hole. "Use your fingers to hold yourself," I whispered in his ear. "Let the head of your cock find my hole." With both hands, I pulled my cheeks apart. Danny's a quick learner. He found my anus and ran the head of his cock up and down and around it. "Push now - gently," I said. "Take your time." Try that with a thirteen-year-old in heat. He forced the inside me, pushing his foreskin back, and sank his cock in all the way. He wasn't big, but he was big enough, I felt my innards close around him. "Take your time," I said. "Find a rhythm. Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow." Fat chance. This thirteen-year-old boy fucked me like a rabbit. He lasted less than a minute. Fell flat against my chest. Lay there for a full five minutes. His cock flopped its way out. I moved his body all the way up. I kissed his ball sac, found his balls, nibbled on one at a time, took the whole sac into my mouth. Released him. Pulled him higher until he was sitting on my face. He'd seen rimming. Now he'd feel it as I French-kissed his tiny anus and listened to his moans. Then released him. He had an erection. "What about you?" he whispered. "What about me?" "You haven't... cum yet, have you?" I gently maneuvered his boy body below me, moved up the bed, knelt on either side of his face, and masturbated. "Open your mouth - wide." The boy opened his mouth - wide - the man jacked off into his mouth - watched his cum splatter the back of the boy's throat - saw it slide down and away. Withdrew. Leaned over and kissed the boy. The boy kissed him back. Saliva and semen. It had been a long day. We fell asleep with our arms around each other. Two weeks later Easter was over. We were back at school. Danny at his; me at mine. Lots and lots of tennis. Lots of family fun. Never a word about what had happened. Not because we were ashamed or afraid. Danny certainly wasn't. I followed his lead. Sex was only mentioned one: a month or so later. "I fucked Richie last night. Then he fucked me." Richie and Danny were friends since nursery school. Danny told me they'd been having sex since they were eleven years old. They'd tried most things against fucking - "that was scary" - "we love it" - but not rimming "Why would you lick anybody's bumhole?" Danny laughed. Are Danny and Richie gay - bisexual - heterosexual? I don't know and I don't care. And I don't think they do either. They are honest enough to recognise their desires and to share what they have with each other until 'the right thing' comes along. Where do I fit in? I don't, not any more. Except by this time next year, I'll be Danny's stepdad. Amy's divorce will have come through. I'll be headteacher on Danny's junior school. Danny's in secondary. And Danny's only comment: "Maybe you two won't make such a noice when you're married." And we all burst out laughing - including Leo. *** Thanks for finding time to read this story. You may like some of these: And Then He Kissed Me - Adult Youth https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/and-then-he-kissed-me Meant to Be - Adult Youth https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/meant-to-be Arlo My Love - Adult Youth https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/arlo-my-love Boarding Boys - Adult Youth - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/boarding-boys One Boy's Story - Adult Youth - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/one-boys-story Learning with Leo - Young Friends - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/learning-with-leo Let Me in - Adult Youth - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/let-me-in Beautiful Games - Young Friends - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/beautiful-games In My Secret Life - Young Friends - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/in-my-secret-life Telling Tales - Young Friends https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/young-friends/telling-tales Here We Go Again - https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/here-we-go-again