Date: Sun, 11 Feb 2018 21:12:36 +0000
From: puermalo14@hushmail.com
Subject: Peckerwood Prep School Chapter 5

This part of the story features consensual sexual activity between a male
adult and a boy. If you are forbidden from accessing such material, or if
it is likely to offend, then read no further. Please consider a DONATION to
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PECKERWOOD PREP SCHOOL

The setting for this fictional tale is an English preparatory school in the
1960s.

8. MR SMYTH

It was half-term at Peckerwood. With no boys around, I was planning to go
away for a few days, catching-up with friends and visiting family. By
Saturday lunchtime the last boy had gone. Peckerwood seemed strange without
its youngsters. Most noticeably, it was quiet (!) and, as I wandered
through the deserted building I became aware of various creaks and knocks
that were normally unheard. It was an old building and the hot water pipes
probably hadn't been upgraded since Victorian times. There were plenty of
reminders that this was school, however. Here a half-read library book,
there a discarded sock. Rows of empty coat-pegs and piles of children's
wellington boots. A boy's satchel and an assortment of pencils and crayons.

Up in the dormitories it was little different and there was an aroma of
schoolboy everywhere I wandered. Passing by the boys' beds, I stopped
momentarily where Nicholas and Miles slept. There was a pair of underpants
on Miles' bed. Why on earth he hadn't tidied them away or taken them when
he left was beyond me! I picked them up. Although not dirty, they had
certainly been worn. There was a little stain of piss on the front. I held
them to my nose and savoured the smell of their twelve-year-old owner. I
didn't even notice the arrival of Mr Smyth until he spoke.

"Ah, I see you've found something interesting!" he chuckled.

It was fruitless attempting to hide the evidence, so I just brushed it
off. "Yes, they belong to Miles," I said, "I think I may just `borrow' them
for a few days!"

"When are you leaving, then?" asked Mr Smyth.

"Tomorrow morning."

"In that case, pop along to my rooms tonight, I might find something else
of interest for you."

With this rather enigmatic invitation he hurried off, leaving me standing
there clutching the boy's underpants.

...

When evening came, I found myself in Mr Smyth's study.

"Make yourself comfortable," he smiled, pointing to the armchair, "Would
you care for a Scotch?"

He poured drinks and passed me one.

"So, young man, how are you finding things at Peckerwood? How's your first
term going?"

"It's great, thanks," I replied, "And I don't just mean the teaching side
of things."

"The boys like you," said Mr Smyth, "And your discipline is good; firm but
fair."

"And I like the boys!" I grinned.

"Don't we all, don't we all!" he agreed, "Which rather reminds me. What do
think of these?"

He passed me an envelope and inside I found a handful of photographs. They
all showed Peckerwood boys. They were all innocent pictures, boys playing
rugby, chatting on the playground and so on. A few were more obviously
posed, two boys in shorts sitting on the steps playing chess. I recognised
most of the subjects as current pupils.

"Delightful!" I commented.

"I'm a keen amateur," said Mr Smyth, "But I have managed to get a few
published."

"Published? My word, that's clever of you."

"There's a market for pictures of cute boys," he went on, "Here, let me
show you."

He went to his desk, slid the drawer open and retrieved some magazines. He
passed them to me. They were European publications that all featured
pictures of boys. I had no idea that such things existed! Some were rather
innocent in subject matter and the boys were either clothed or partly
dressed. Others were clearly naturist publications, again hardly
illicit. The one at the bottom of the pile was quite different. It depicted
nude boys around the same ages as the Peckerwood pupils. There were solo
ones, with boys flaunting their little erections and masturbating. Some
were of two boys together, kissing and hugging, wanking themselves and each
other, fucking and (where they were mature enough) spurting their sweet
fluid. I was speechless!

"Well, what do you think?" Mr Smyth spoke at last.

"They're amazing!" was about all I could stutter.

Mr Smyth pointed out a few of the tamer examples. "These ones are mine," he
said, "I took them last year at the seaside. Cute boys on the beach, nice,
eh?"

"They're sweet," I commented, looking at the images of boys in just their
swimwear. It was clear they had no idea their photos were being taken.

"I use a telephoto lens," Mr Smyth explained.

"You're a crafty devil!"

We spent several minutes looking through the magazines. When we got to the
pornographic one he pointed out three images of a naked boy aged around
ten, I guessed. He was on an armchair proudly displaying a two-inch
erection. In one picture he had his legs in the air, showing off his pink
puckered hole.

"See that little fellow?" Mr Smyth announced, "He was a pupil here a couple
of years back."

"Really?"

"Yes, and a dirty little bugger he was, too! I took him much further along
the road to debauchery than most of my boys. He loved it, especially the
pictures. He had a natural talent for flaunting his body. I never needed to
suggest a pose, he just went straight at it like he'd been modelling porn
for years!"

"I can't believe you manage to get away with this stuff," I said,
incredulously.

"Oh, I'm very careful," he explained, "I know exactly how far any
particular boy is willing to go. It's a sort of instinct, I suppose."

"What do mean?"

"Some boys only permit me to explore inside their trousers and won't go
further, some are happy to strip off and allow me to fondle `em all over,
some are happy to reciprocate in certain ways...I never coerce them into
something they don't want. Mind you, there are very few who've given me the
brush-off over the years. I've discovered that most boys simply love sex
and getting the attention of a grown-up certainly makes them keen!"

"I think I've plenty of catching up to do. It sounds like you're an expert
on man-and-boy sex!"

"As I told you before, I've had hundreds of them over many years," he said.

"Do you have any these days who are really up for it?"

"I'm glad you asked," he continued, "I want to ask a very special favour."

"Go ahead."

"I told you there's a market for boy porn but there's also a more lucrative
one for pictures featuring boys and men."

I sensed where this was leading. He resumed.

"Say no thanks if you wish, I'll understand, but I wondered if you might be
willing to do some scenes with a boy. There's one lad at Peckerwood who is
perfect to join you."

"I'm not sure," I hesitated, "What if I'm recognised?"

Mr Smyth laughed. "The only people who'll see you will be those who are
reading boy-porn magazines. They're hardly going to let on to that, are
they! Besides, we needn't show your face if you're worried, perhaps you
could wear a mask or something."

"Who's the boy?" I asked.

"Here, look," he replied, handing me some more photographs. They showed
William, the twelve-year-old in my dormitories. He was sitting on the same
armchair, naked and wanking. I suddenly realised it was the very same
armchair I now found myself sitting in!

"I took these last summer term," Mr Smyth explained, "He was a bit younger
then, obviously, but he had already developed that long, slender dickie he
has now."

I looked at the pictures of William. He was the rather lanky lad who was
always springing stiffies at shower-time. I'd not given him much thought,
preoccupied as I was with Dominic and Nicholas, but now I noticed he did
have a certain allure.

Mr Smyth went on. "He was one of my regulars before he moved dorms. My
gosh, the things he was prepared to do, you would never believe! It would
be easy to persuade him to pose again, that is, if you're interested."

My lustful thoughts struggled against any more cautious ones before I
reached a decision.

"Yes," I said, at last, "I would be delighted to help you out."

"Splendid, splendid!" Mr Smyth laughed, "And you'll get your share if we
get the pictures in a magazine. A pretty penny, I can assure you!"

Later, I left Mr Smyth's rooms with a handful of magazines to enjoy at my
leisure. The half-term holiday was a much-needed break from the day-to-day
routine of school life, but I was certainly looking forward to the boys'
return and the tempting diversions that were ahead.

...


9. MORE FUN WITH DOMINIC

The half-term break seemed to rush past and the boys returned in dribs and
drabs throughout the Sunday afternoon. I spent some time chattering to them
in the dormitories as they exchanged their news. I always enjoyed these
informal moments, just watching boys being boys.

Miles and Nicholas were trying to out-do one another recounting how they
had spent the last week. Nicholas had visited the Tower of London with his
family whereas Miles had been to Twickenham for an international rugby
match. They were squabbling about whose day out was most the impressive
when Miles noticed me standing there.

"Oh, hello, sir," he said, "Perhaps you can resolve our disagreement. Which
is best, a day at the Tower of London or a rugby match at Twickenham?"

"That's obvious," I joked, "Neither is best, especially when compared to a
day at Peckerwood!"

The boys laughed at my attempt at humour.

"Of course, sir," said Nicholas, "Nothing beats being here with my best
chum, Miles!"

"That may be so, but for now you had better stop bickering and get ready
for bed."  "Yes, sir," they reluctantly replied.

Further down the dormitory I came to the section where Dominic slept. He
was just putting his pyjamas on. His top was already on and he was stepping
into the leggings, giving me a delightful view of his cute rump.

"Gosh, I didn't see you there, sir," he said, "You gave me a surprise."

He pulled the lower part of his pyjamas up and I briefly saw his two-inch
soft cocklet flip upwards before disappearing below the waistband. I
lowered my voice so no-one else would hear. "Don't go straight to sleep
after lights out. I thought you might like to visit me later. I'll come and
fetch you when the others are asleep."

His smile was all the answer I needed.

Lights out was at 8.00 pm for the older boys after which I sat in my study,
impatiently watching the minutes ticking past. I gave it around
half-an-hour before returning to the dormitories, torch in hand, warily
creeping past the cubicles. The odour of boys' socks greeted me in the
darkness, and the only sounds I heard were the gentle dozing of the boys. I
reached Dominic's bed and shone my torchlight at him. He was sitting up in
bed with a big grin across his cute face. I beckoned for him to follow
me. Whether he could see in the gloom or not it didn't matter, as he
quickly threw back the blankets, put on his slippers and tiptoed towards
me.

Once in my rooms, I locked the door. He was squinting in the brightness of
the room having just sat for so long in darkness. He looked as cute as ever
and was wearing blue-and-white striped pyjamas.

"Do you think anyone noticed us, sir?" he finally spoke.

"No, I don't think so," I replied, "All the boys seemed to be asleep."

"Rafferty always goes out like a light, sir," he said, referring to the boy
who shared his cubicle, "Didn't you hear him snoring!"

I chuckled, "Well, let's get too it then, shall we, young man?"

"Oooh, yes, sir! What treat have you got in store for me tonight?"

"I think perhaps we should go through to my bedroom," I suggested, "I would
rather like to strip you naked, if I may? Besides, the noise travels and we
don't want anyone eavesdropping, do we?"

Dominic didn't show any signs of reluctance at my invitation and so we went
in to my small bedroom. He unfastened the top button of his pyjamas.

"No, dear boy, let me do that," I said.

I sat on my bed and he came and stood before me. I unbuttoned his pyjamas,
revealing glimpses of his smooth, young chest. Parting the garment, I drew
it across his shoulders and let it slip to the carpet.

"Hands on head," I instructed.

I could now survey all the delights of his upper body; the pert nipples,
the smooth belly with its perky navel, the hairless armpits, the
translucent skin. Then I proceeded to untie the waistband of his
pyjamas. They slipped to his ankles in an instant and he stepped out of
them. His boyish stiffness waggled before me and I took it in my fingers. I
played with his cocklet for a moment, making him hum with delight, before
patting the bed beside me and directing him to sit. I resumed my
manipulation of his hard organ, working my fingertips around his hairless
balls, the little patch of pubes and the shaft.

"I think you've grown some more hairs even since the start of term," I
commented.

"Yes, I think I have, sir," he answered, "but it'll be a long time before
I'm as hairy as you!"

I used the opportunity to undo my own trousers, and I pushed them down to
my knees. Dominic relished removing my underwear and watching my prick
stand proud.

"Oh, sir, you have some sticky stuff on the end of it!" he said, indicating
the gloop of precum I was oozing. He played with my cock as I played with
his.

"That's not sperm," I said, "It's just some stuff you sometimes get when
your willy is excited."

"Why is it excited?" he teased.

"You know the answer to that, Dominic! You excite it very much!"

"And what have you got that might excite me?"

"I have a surprise treat," I said, "Would you like it?"

"Oh, gosh! Yes, please, sir!"

"As it is a surprise, you must lie down and close your eyes."

He did so.

"Now, you must not open them until I say," I continued.

Dominic's little willy poked upwards and I leant down to greet it, taking
it into my mouth and sucking its length. He sighed with delight. He
realised immediately what was happening but kept his eyes closed.

"Oh, sir, that's naughty!" he said, "But don't stop...it's lovely!"

I sucked him gently for a while before withdrawing. I sat up and looked at
him.

"So, you like that, do you?"

"Yes, sir, it is smashing...would you like me to do it to you?"

"That's up to you, Dominic, would you like to try?"

"It's only fair, sir!"

I wasn't about to stop him, so I stood and removed the rest of my clothes
before re-joining him on the bed.

"I've a splendid idea," I said, "If I lie down here then you can lay on top
of me the other way around."

"I see," he exclaimed, jostling into position, "Now I can suck your willy
as you suck mine!"

The twelve-year-old was soon straddling me, my face mere inches from his
sweet cock and dangling balls. I spent a moment admiring them in close-up
before feeling his breath on my own hard organ. Anticipation gave way to
the sensation of his tongue flicking against the tip.

"Is that correct, sir?" I heard him mutter from below.

"Copy what I do," I suggested.

I ran the tip of my tongue over the exposed head of his organ, lingering at
the frenulum. He imitated my action. I took the head between my lips and
worked on the knob before taking some of the youngster's shaft into my
mouth. Dominic did well to copy as he was, of course, having to deal with
an organ considerably larger than his own. I took his cocklet between two
fingers and manipulated it so that I was half-sucking and half-wanking the
lad. He reciprocated as best he could. I could hardly decide which was
better, sucking on a pubescent boycock or having my own prick in a boy's
mouth. Certainly, having both simultaneously was heavenly!

We spent several minutes thus engaged before he sat up again.

"It's making my jaw ache a bit, sir?" he giggled, "I think I need to catch
my breath!"

"That's alright, Dominic," I said, "Let me finish you off, you deserve it!"

It was his turn to lie down and, after briefly surveying his beauty, I
leant forward and began to fellate him once more. This time I didn't
stop. I wanted to bring him off into my mouth. As the pace and vigour of my
own masturbatory action quickened, I could sense he was moving to his
climax. With a gasp, his body stiffened and his cocklet throbbed its sweet
load onto my tongue. I savoured each little drop before swallowing. The
thrill tipped me over the edge and I sat upright, arcing my body above the
schoolboy. A rope of cum spat onto him, leaving a sticky trail from his
belly to his chest. Smaller pulses dripped more of my essence onto his
nakedness. Dominic surprised me by smoothing my fluids across his body,
apparently relishing the sensation of my hot liquid smeared upon him. I
squeezed the final drop onto him and we smiled at one another almost
conspiratorially.

As we cleaned up – a bigger task for Dominic, it must be said! – I
wondered how far this boy was prepared to go. I would have to wait for
another occasion to find out.



...

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