Date: Fri, 2 Aug 2019 12:32:09 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Queen Mary Bell-boys 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 14-year-olds 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 172 Simon came back the following weekend, and on most weekends until the end of the summer term. Clive and Margaret were planning to have a 2-week holiday with John and Simon in Italy (Elizabeth had put her foot down at the thought of two weeks with her brothers, and was going off somewhere with her own friends), and Simon was torn between an adventure of that kind and having another two weeks with us. "Go to Italy," said Ade, "we'll still be here when you come back, and think how much sexier you'll look all nice and brown." "Besides," I added, "you may find a nice Italian boy to play with." This earned a sideways look, but it remained true. Italian boys had cocks, and a decent number of those encountered might well fancy a fumble with a stranger, especially one as cute as Simon. "Just so long as it's just a boy," warned Ade. But Ade's grin rather gave the game away. Simon became very serious. "I've learned enough while I've been here that fucking around with other boys is fine, but fucking with another adult - apart from you three and Jeremy and David - is not on, however much I might be tempted. And bloody David is no fun at all. Despite all my best efforts he has no interest in me." Apart from his Italian sojourn Simon was to be ours throughout the summer holidays. While he was away Bill and Ben made one of their routine bookings. The meal was unremarkable - no, that's not true. The meal was of Charlie's and Ade's high standard, but that was unremarkable. What happened after was unexpected. As usual, they were the last to leave and, as usual, the three of us joined them for coffee and, on this occasion, a complimentary brandy. Nothing like keeping the regulars happy, and if we couldn't parade a naked Simon we could give then a decent Hine. After a while Jeremy shifted in his seat. "I think we know each other well enough for me to broach a delicate subject," he began. Charlie and I nodded. Ade held his breath. "You know that Simon visits us from time to time. Clive thinks this is to help out and for the boy to earn some extra money - we pay him to maintain the fiction - and he gets a bus each Wednesday after school. I run him home - there's no late bus and, much as all three of us would like it, he obviously can't stay the night. We have about three hours with him, and you won't be surprised to know that most of that time is spent energetically. "I hope you feed him," said Ade, receiving old-fashioned looks from Jeremy, from David, from Charlie and from me. "You know what I mean," he said, grinning, "that too, no doubt." None of what Jeremy had said was new to us - Simon kept us in the loop. "Clive has his head in the clouds, and wouldn't sniff anything even if it were under his nose -" "which it is," interrupted David "- but Margaret is beginning to wonder whether her son's never being it home is something she is entirely relaxed about." "Do you think Margaret thinks he's up to no good with you two?" I asked. "Or us?" said Charlie. Jeremy shook his head. "No, I don't think so. But David and I have had a long talk about it - not with Simon." David took up the story. "Ade, we know the situation with you and Simon. He never stops going on about how much he loves being here, and learning stuff from you, and Charlie, of course, but he can't disguise his feeling for you. 'Love' is an easy word to say, especially in bed, but Simon radiates it from every pore, and it's you he loves, Ade. Jeremy and I have had over two years on Simon in our bed, and we both feel it's right to call a halt. The poor boy can't keep what's going on a secret for ever, and it's much more important that he goes on working and playing that it is for us to have a bit of fun." Jeremy added, "he'll always be my nephew, so I'm sure we'll go on seeing him, but we're firm that we won't be having regular sex with him any more. He may grumble a bit, but I'm sure you'll find a way of comforting him, the three of you." "There's more," said David, "tell them, Jeremy." Oh dear, I thought, all that's been a preamble to bad news. I passed the brandy bottle to Jeremy who gratefully took advantage of a few seconds' more delay. "I think you ought not to expect Simon to come here every weekend, Charlie. Margaret is no fool, and Simon's still only 15. The boy's excitement as Friday draws near each week is rather greater than would be appropriate, even for a keen student about to receive instruction. Without putting too fine a point upon it, he's too much on heat for it to be ignored." That was a facer: one I don't think any of us had anticipated. "Is that what these two weeks in Italy are about?" I asked. Jeremy shrugged. "Maybe. I'm sure Clive hasn't an idea, and Margaret's certainly not about to upset the apple cart by alerting him to the possibility that her son might bat for the other side, as he would no doubt express it. His standing in the party reflects on her too, don't forget. But cool things off a bit if you can." "That's all very well," said Charlie, "but we have an agreement. Once he's back Simon will be here for five weeks. During that time he'll learn more about his trade during the day and - well, the rest is irrelevant. We pay him: he gains experience. I'll tell you this, Jeremy, if he goes on picking up skills at the rate he has done over one 4-week stint and a dozen weekends he'll be as good as Ade and I can make him long before he's 20." "In that case why not explain that to Margaret - or better still, to both his parents? Clive will be so proud that his son is excelling at something that he will be blind to anything which might dampen his pride. And Margaret - well, what mother isn't happy to see her son happy? Ecstatic and dripping with lust might be a step too far, but happy? Eager to learn? You can come up with something, surely?" "I think we need another invitation to be extended for the two of them to dine here," I said, "but not you this time, Jeremy. Charlie and I will come up with something, trust me." Ade had said very little, but when the two of them had gone (a taxi had been summoned at 2300) he was in despair. "What will we do?" "Look, Ade," I said, "the police aren't banging at the door, so it's unlikely that Clive or Margaret have twigged what we're up to once we take Simon upstairs. He needs to have it drilled into his head that he has to be a lot more careful about hiding his desire to see you each Friday. Surely you can get him to seem to be a bit more moody - after all, he's the right age. Charlie and I will sort his parents out, but Simon's your responsibility." Ade smiled, "yes, I suppose that's about it. OK. What about his parents?" "Give us time, Ade, they're not back until Sunday (it was then Thursday - or very nearly Friday). Come on, bed - it's been a trying evening." The three of us enjoyed comforting (and being comforted) for a good hour. Ade at 28 doesn't press the same buttons that he did when he first came to (or with) us, but there were still plenty of buttons being pressed. However you don't need the details. Even at 28 Ade was very cuddly and tactile. Simon was a lucky boy (as Charlie and I reminded each other several times a day). Charlie came into the office the following morning. "Ade's in charge today. Let's see how he copes with the help suddenly not being available." I had no doubt that Ade would cope, even though he would have to do all the prep himself. "Don't worry," added Charlie, "my bout of unexpected ill health will have cleared up by around 1600." "So what's this about? Have you worked out what we're going to do?" Charlie grinned. "It's usually you that has the bright ideas, but on this occasion I think I've got it all by myself." It was my turn to grin. You've been well trained, Charlie MacKenzie." "We drive over to their house this afternoon with a hand-written invitation for Clive and Margaret to dine as our guests on Tuesday evening. Just the two of them. They'll see the invitation when they get home whenever it is tomorrow. They come to dinner and we join them - just you and I - for coffee, just like we did with Bill and Ben. I tell them about the exciting plans I have to teach Simon over the 5 weeks before he goes back to school, and before either of them can say anything I tell them that they will dine again, as our guests, exactly four weeks later when Simon will show them that Kate and Sidney were left behind long ago." "Can you do that in four weeks?" "Maybe, but since Clive and Margaret won't be going anywhere near the kitchen they will never know whether Ade or I had a hand in whatever we come up with. Your job is to be statesmanlike and make sure that exactly the right wines and so on are flowing freely. Conservatives like their liquor, I imagine." "OK, I like the idea. When do we want Simon to start again? If they're coming and we're going to have a business session with them over the Hine then we don't want Simon in the kitchen." "No, you're right. Why not the following day? That gives him two days at home before he starts work again, and Ade will still see him in his nice toasted Italian state." "Not just Ade." "No, I think I'm looking forward to it as much as he is." ***** The invitation went through their letter-box that afternoon. Clive phoned us on the Sunday evening to accept. "Shall we say half past seven?" I said that would be perfect. "We'll look forward to Simon coming the following day - that should give him time to recover from Italy," I said brightly. Clive implied that being rid of Simon could not come a moment too soon. Had he worked out for himself that being moody afforded good cover, I wondered, before it occurred to me that, as a boy of 15, he was probably moody anyway surrounded by loving parents and a big brother with not a fuck in sight. "I'll have him with you by 11 if that's convenient?" It was. We had three other tables booked that evening, two arriving at seven (to use Clive's formula) and one other - three people - at the same time. With luck we could arrange it that Clive and Margaret were the last to remain. It would look odd if the proprietors sat down with one lot of diners while the others were still drinking coffee. We got it right, thanks in part to the choices they made, and when Ade had brought in the cheese and coffee Charlie and I came to join them. "More claret, or would you prefer a brandy?" I said. Clive was torn: the claret was the '71 again, but the Hine was on the table. I won a bet with myself when he chose another glass of "your fine wine, Patrick, you're doing us very proud", knowing that the Hine would be broached ere long. Once the matter of drinks was settled Charlie began his spiel. "We had Simon in the kitchen for a little under 4 weeks at Easter. Tomorrow he will come for 5 weeks. In the weekends when he's been here during the term Ade and I have given him small tasks to perform, hoping to find the parts of the business that he seems to enjoy. We think we know where his skills are likely to lie, but of course it's very early days. I want to immerse him in two, maybe three if he's keen, aspects of the chef's trade in the next five weeks. When he comes tomorrow I will show him exactly what I've mapped out for him. Patrick and I want you to come for dinner again four weeks from tonight. Simon will prepare your meal. You're our guests, of course, but there's a condition." Margaret looked dubious. "What's that, Charlie?" "You choose the menu a week beforehand. I'll send you the list of what he can do, you choose then and tell me, and a week later he feeds you." "My goodness, dear, that sounds a tall order. Are you sure Charlie? (Why yes, Patrick, a glass of that excellent Hine would be most welcome) Can you really cram all that into my boy?" There wasn't any pepper still on the table, so I've no idea what occasioned my sneezing fit, but by the time I'd recovered Clive and Margaret seemed to have accepted Charlie's proposition. Conversation turned to the Italian holiday. Simon, it seemed, had been bored. "He can hardly wait to get back to work, Patrick," said his devoted mother, "there seemed to be no stimulation for him there." I feared another pepper attack, but my old friend the 17-times table came to my rescue. Clive said that he seemed to have made friends with an Italian boy "but we never got to meet him. He was just a local village boy." When they'd gone we reported all this to Ade. "Do you think he fancied a bit of rough?" I asked. "We'll know soon enough," said Ade cheerfully - all thoughts of police and other nasties now absent. It would have been hard to be sure whether, as 1100 the following morning approached, Ade or Simon was the more on heat, as Jeremy had so tastefully put it. Clive came in briefly to smile kindly upon the labouring classes, deposit his son's case, bid us all a jolly "cheerio: be good, Simon", and drive home safely to distant Luton and, no doubt, the local Conservative worthies among whom he would shine. "Thank God that's over," breathed Simon when he had untangled himself from Ade's welcome, "no, not that - that was what I've missed, Ade, but bloody parents." "Your father gave you sound advice, young Simon," I said, deliberately being arch, "he advised you to be good. I don't think he meant it in the way that you always are upstairs though." Ade grinned, "it's good to be back among adults I can relate to. You and Charlie - and Ade too - treat me as one of the team, and not just a tiresome adolescent." He rubbed his hands together. "When do we start?" Charlie explained what was planned. Simon was impressed. "Can you teach me all that?" "Certainly, but whether you learn it is up to you. For what it's worth Ade and I are in no doubt. You've got all the signs of what it takes, but it's a lot of work." Simon grinned, "I like the sort of work you two give me," he said simply. "To answer your question about when we start," went on Charlie, "it's obvious to anyone with half an eye that we won't get anything sensible into your head until there's been a bit of playtime. Ade's been itchy all morning, but I'm sure you can tell that yourself." Ade said, "since this is the first day of your summer job we won't start properly until after we've had lunch. It's now 1115 and lunch is at 1300. We're closed until tonight though, so lunch is just us. Why don't we help you carry that case upstairs, and you can tell us about Italy." Simon was stripped within seconds of reaching our room. He posed invitingly. He really was gorgeous to look at, and the sun tan was intriguing. Whatever he had been wearing to cloak his modesty had been skimpy, and when he turned round to show us his arse all we could see that wasn't brown was a thin line round his waist, maybe an inch wide, and two thinner white lines on his buttocks. "You've been wearing a jock-strap!" I said. Simon nodded. "Where did you get it?" "Ah well, that's a long story," he said, "and maybe I'll tell you later." After Ade had fucked him - no, that's not right - after he and Ade had made love, fast urgent I've-missed-you love and both of them had come loudly and ecstatically, Ade cuddled Simon, both of them still spunky, as you should be in such circumstances, and whispered, "go on then, tell all." It turned out that Clive and Margaret had chosen their destination because there was a music festival nearby, in which John was also interested, leaving Simon to find his own amusements. They were staying in a small village a few miles from the festival town, and the villa they had taken had a small pool. As it wasn't overlooked Simon decided on the first morning that he would surprise us all when he got back by having an all-over tan, and when the other three went off after breakfast telling him they would be back 'around 9' he set to to accomplish his ambition. Margaret had left sun cream and cautioned him to be careful, but after a couple of hours he felt bored and thirsty. There was taverna in the village with an outside terrace. Simon's order - lemon juice on that first day - had been taken by a boy about his age. Charlie and I exchanged a knowing look across the bed. "How long did it take you?" I asked. "Patrick, I'm shocked," said Simon lazily, "I wasn't looking at my watch. Put it this way, Seppi - he introduced himself - no, ow! not that way -" (Ade had tickled him) "- when he brought the drink. He asked me how long we were there, and when I said two weeks his eyes lit up. He came back with a glass of wine and sat down. It took about three minutes for us to know how old we both were, how bored I was, how keen he was to know that an 'Inglis' boy his age was going to be in the village. It took another three minutes for me to find out that the wine was for me, and that there was plenty more where that came from. 'Come,' he said, and he led me into the cool taverna. He pointed to the back where the toilets were, and looked at me. I had about half a second to make my mind up. I nodded." "You're as fast a worker as Patrick was at your age," said Charlie happily. "Seppi's cock was nearly as big as yours, Charlie, but when I suggested he put it where I wanted it he shook his head. 'Not here, come back later. I stop at 1500.' It was funny to hear him telling the time the same way you do. Anyway, at 1500 I was there, as you can guess. He took me up a path into the woods behind the village and after a mile or so we came to a clearing. Grass, wild flowers, it was very romantic. 'Is it safe?' 'Oh yes, no-one comes here, just me and my brother.' He hadn't mentioned a brother on the way up, but it turned out that the brother was 19. It turned out much later that the brother had been fucking Seppi since he was 12. The brother, that is, Seppi had been 8." "And the two of you got down to it in this flowery dell?" I asked. Simon nodded. "He fucked me first, then a bit later I fucked him. He said my arse was like Paradise. Then after a bit more I suggested we 69. He had no idea what that was, but when I showed him he loved it. He was very caring about my cock. He said it was very white. His was white too, but the rest of him, even his arse, was really brown. We were in no hurry, but the spunk began to boil and I came in his mouth. I didn't think he'd mind, what with being fucked by his brother. He swallowed the lot, and came himself a minute or two later. I've had slightly garlicky cum here often enough, but his was really tasty." "I take it you repeated this every day," said Ade. "Yes and no. The flowers were nice, but I had a swimming pool and a bed, so there was no contest really. Seppi spent most of the time beside one or in the other. Or in me, of course. He brought me a present the next afternoon - we only did it in the afternoons - and made me wear it. I think you admired the effect earlier. What was nice about the present - you'll like this, guys - was that he'd been wearing it himself and it smelt very ... well, nice." I grinned, thinking how much Tim would have loved hearing this raunchy story. "You brought it home, I hope," said Ade, nuzzling Simon's ear. "Of course. It can be called 'pyjamas' if you like." We'd never bothered with pyjamas before, but we were always willing to make an exception. "He used to bring wine too, which was nice of him." "Then one afternoon when we were at it John walked in." ===============================================================================.The fun continues in Chapter 173 as we hear what effect John's discovery had, and learn more about Seppi. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real, as are the details of the final voyage. I first saw the boys while making a transatlantic crossing in 2017, and had the pleasure of seeing them again in April 2019, smiling at the knowledge of all the things that had befallen them since I first saw them, and thought again how cute "I" was. I'm sure he had adventures in real life ... Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. =============================================================================