Date: Fri, 2 Nov 2018 11:14:28 +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 98 Charlie had come in while Nigel was being whirled to Paradise, had taken one look at the crowd gathered watching Tim at work, and had disappeared to have a shower. When he got back it was in time to see them comparing hand sizes, and to see me send them off after an entertaining lesson. When those that didn't live in our cabin had gone he asked what that had all been about. "Both sets of twins are practised fisters," I reminded him, "and the others wanted to know what it was about." Charlie has quite big hands (as has Sam) and neither of them had ever shown any desire to inflict their fists on, or as it might be up, us. Nor had Tim or I particularly wanted to try it on either of them: had they shown any interest no doubt we'd have been up there in a flash, but Charlie and I had never experimented nor, as far as I knew, had Tim and Sam. So Charlie's interest was more curiosity than any desire for participation. It was a night for Javid and Nigel to sleep together - Graham had had both of them for two nights - so they and I went for a shower before turning in. "You looked as though you enjoyed that, Nigel," I said. "Fuck yes. He's good, your brother." Honesty compelled me to acknowledge that in the fisting department his alpha-plus beat my alpha. What had Javid felt about the whole thing? He grinned. "Like I said, I can't wait. It looked so ... I don't know ... more than just hot. It was so weird and the look on Nige's face was so out of it all. I hope G and I can do it tomorrow," he ended simply. I had no doubt that his wish would be granted. Back in bed Javid and Nigel cuddled happily, but non-sexually. I said quietly to Charlie that I was sorry I'd missed Jack and Robin. "Where were you?" "I was on shore with Sir being grilled by the Foreign Office and Scotland Yard." "Were you OK?" "Of course, you know me," and I told him all about it. "D'you think that's really what happened to him?" I said I had no idea, but at least it fitted what little we knew. "Do you think the American police will find him?" "No. They've nothing to go on, have they? Let's forget Prince. I'd much rather talk about Jack and Robin. What do you think they want?" Charlie snorted. "It's as plain as the nose on your face, Patrick. They want to fuck you and your boys." "Not you?" "Maybe, but it was pretty clear from what they were saying to Ryan that it was boys they were after, not oldies my age." I kissed him. "You'll never be too old for me." After a minute or two in which my kiss was returned, and augmented in intensity I said, "do you think it would be better if they came to play one at a time?" He didn't have to think. "Yes. Better for them not to have to share, and better for you in managing which of the boys get involved. You can't haver one of them fucking all seven of you, so you'll have to ration things. If they're both as keen as they sound they won't be coming - I mean visiting - just once." It made a lot of sense. Two of them and seven of us, or even eight or nine if Sam and Charlie weren't too decrepit to be regarded as useful playmates, should mean visits over two or three crossings. "OK," I said, "will you ask Jack if he'd like to come down here tomorrow night at 2230 to play. Leave it up to him whether he wants to stay the night or bugger off back when he's exhausted. Tell Robin that the decision to entertain Jack first was purely alphabetical, and that Robin will be most welcome two nights later. That gives us a night off if we need it." Charlie whispered that I was a wicked old man, and that he loved me despite it. ***** 0915 was, as usual on the first day, brief in the extreme and by 0916 we were all back outside and on the way to the display platforms, or elevators as they were known to passengers. At 1100 I went looking for Tim. "I need air," I said, "it's exhausting looking so available all the time." We went up for the regular 15 minutes. By then we were still an hour or so short of Land's End, but there was no land in sight. Once you got an hour or two further west the Atlantic rhythm started - long slow rollers which Queen Mary majestically drove through, with little or no movement beyond a slow gentle roll. Nothing to bother anyone. As I've told you, she was a pig in a big sea, but in May the likelihood of a big sea wasn't very great. That day the horizon was like a pencil line: no swell, no waves, nothing. It was very peaceful. "Penny for them," said Tim after a few minutes. "I was thinking about Liverpool. I don't do that very often, but what Sir said yesterday about Father Corrigan has stayed with me. I wonder if any of the awful Connors are in jail." "Don't know and don't care. They're in the past. Father Corrigan yanked us out of all that in the nick of time, I reckon." "Funny, isn't it," I said, "he spends the best part of five years doing all kinds of wicked things with us -" "- which we enjoyed -" "- which we thoroughly enjoyed, but which would have seen him in jail if he'd been found out, and then he rescues us from a life of crime in the Liverpool slums -" "- into a life of whoring here. As you say, funny." We were quiet. The sea was quiet. "Enough of this serious stuff," said Tim, "what's happening with Ryan's two beauties?" I told him that I'd agreed with Charlie that one at a time would be best - it would prolong the pleasure - and that I'd invited Jack to come a-visiting that night. "What will he do?" "No idea, but he's a big boy and he can surely work out that if he's been invited to spend time with a bunch of 15- and 16-year-olds it's not to play Snakes and Ladders." Tim laughed. "You've not sat down and worked out a rota like you did for Micky being fucked, have you?" I agreed: I had not. Tim suddenly smiled. "Mind you, if his snake's a decent size it can climb my ladder any time." "Let's keep hoping then," I said as we made our way back down to the coalface. The day passed productively, and by the time we sat down to eat at 2000 I had been to visit no fewer than five lusty passengers hungry for the sight and, presumably, taste and touch, of young flesh to arrange delivery of the delights sought. As usual we were at a table with nobody else nearby, so we could talk freely provided we kept it down. When everybody had got their food and the beers had been opened I told them that we had a treat to look forward to. "Jack's coming at 2230." Tim would usually have been quick with the smart rejoinder, but he was getting old, and it fell to Nigel to express the hope that that happy outcome would recur as the night wore on. I was beginning to appreciate the different personalities of the fresh talent. Javid was the one I liked best for all sorts of reasons, not all of them what would nowadays be called politically correct. I loved the brownness of his skin - it added a perceptible note of spice to any sexual contact I'd had with him. He was also - that adjective which we were adjured never to use by our English teachers - nice. And his dry sense of humour tickled me. Nigel was more in the Tim mould - very sparky, very inventive and willing to have his horizons stretched (yes, I know), and very very sexy. They would make a lovely couple. George and Vincent were harder to read. They came to Queen Mary as a couple and although they were as willing as the rest of us to fuck any of us they spent more of the non-fucking hours of the day together. I liked them both, and they were both fun to be with, in bed or out of it. Graham was still missing Prince, although he was making a huge effort to appear normal. The last night had been the first he had not had Nigel and Javid with him in bed since it all came out. I'd asked Tim if he'd been OK and there had been no sign of tears. "Maybe that's because we had him in with us." We agreed that he ought to be close to the front of the queue that night. I was hauled back to the canteen by a dig in the ribs from George. "You're miles away," he said, "Vincent asked you what Jack was going to do." "I've no idea, but you all saw what he and Robin were like a couple of nights ago. I don't suppose anything he might suggest will come as a great shock. That's the beauty of who we are and what we do. The nature of the game is understood by all the players: we all just get on with it." Speculation, conducted in mostly muted tones, broke out, with questions around quantity and quality being uppermost. "We'll all find out in less than two hours," said Tim, "so why don't we change the subject, because if we don't I don't think I'm going to be the only one with a big wet patch in the front of my trousers." It was unfortunate that Javid had just swigged the last of his beer precisely as Tim said that: a fine spray of foam shot across the table as Javid exploded mid-swallow. "I hope there will be more of that," said Nigel, "I like to see it spray on people." As the beer had been sprayed on him it seemed only fair. The discussion never moved beyond the subject though. By 2115 we were virtually the only ones left apart from a few who came off shift at 2100. These included, unusually, all four of our former colleagues. The seniors were soon put in the picture about the entertainment expected: were they going to be invited to participate? Ten pairs of eyes were looking at me. "I'll be as honest as I can," I said. "When Tim and I and the five bell boys had our fancy meal, like we all had in 1936, we were served by two very sexy waiters whom Ryan had chosen, knowing our interests. Ryan knew that Jack and Robin had interests which matched ours: they wanted sex with boys our age. We're less fussy as our employment requires us not to be bothered by sex with people four or five times our age. I have no idea whether Jack, who's coming tonight, is up for sex with 18-year-olds. If he has then the only problem is that we might overwhelm him with so much bounty to choose from. If you all want to play -" (and the nods left no room for doubt) "- then I think we should introduce ourselves gradually. Jack's seen us seven, and so that's what he's expecting to be up for fun later. I think we should tease him a bit. We know he's keen, so if we play it right he'll get even keener as more of us appear. Here's what I'm suggesting." "At last," from Tim. "He's due at 2230. OK, at 2230 Tim and I are in our cabin. The Bell Captains will welcome him and find out what he's wanting to do. From 2240 one of the rest of you will come in every five minutes - sort the order out yourselves, but don't leave the oldies until last. Do it like we did Micky with 18-year-olds in between the younger ones. The only thing is that the first two should be Graham and Vincent. You can wait next door, and that's where your uniform should be left." "We prance in naked?" said Vincent. "Yes, and hard too. No point in pretending you aren't as keen as you've been for the last hour." "There's no way he's going to be able to fuck more than a few of us, so there's no reason why you shouldn't bugger about with each other if he's too shagged out. We want him to go back to Robin and tell him that Cabin 1 on Queen Mary is where the best sex of his life was to be had. And will go on being had. OK?" "You got it," said Alan. We eventually got up at 2150 and headed down. The same thought occurred to all of us, and by 2225 eleven teenagers were showered, fresh and excited as brides and, unlike brides, with their arses liberally prepared for intercourse. The other nine crowded giggling (like brides?) into Cabin 2 to pass the time until they could venture forth like Aphrodite upon her shell to be gazed at by Jack's hungry eye. Inside my head as I wrote that I could hear Tim's splutter of derision. It's been a long time since I heard that splutter for real. There was a quiet knock. I opened the door. Jack came in. No words were spoken. Three eager males stripped. Only when three eager cocks leapt into view did anyone say anything. "Welcome to our little den of wickedness," I said, "Tim and I hope you'll be very happy here." Tim didn't say anything: his mouth was already busy welcoming Jack in the most pleasurable way. Jack, delighted to have his cock deep inside a boy within 20 seconds of his arrival, managed to smile and say, through groans occasioned by Tim's insistence on getting to know the inside of his foreskin, that he would ... ah! ... enjoy being ... with us. "Don't make him come," I said, "he's too old to manage a whole football team's-worth." Tim disengaged, rose from his semi-recumbent posture and welcomed Jack with a kiss instead. "Nice to see you, Tim," said Jack, "what have you two laid on for me?" I heard the door open quietly, so I gestured towards it and said that we had a procession of beautiful boys, "and, look, right on time, here's Graham. See how keen he is to get to know you, Jack." "Hello, Jack," said Graham, reaching out to shake not hands, but little Jack. I use this rather twee term inappropriately: Jack's cock was anything but little, being about 9 inches of uncut steel. "That looks just the right size to fit my arse. Are you going to try?" We hadn't arranged what they would say when they came in at 5-minute intervals, but of course they might have worked something out during the 10 minutes before Graham came sailing in. Jack looked questioningly at Tim and me, presuming that, as his hosts, we had some say in what was to happen. "Go for it, Jack," I said, "we all know why you're here. You do what you want just as long as the boy you're doing it with is willing. Graham has made it clear what he wants. There's the bed. Be our guest." Graham pulled Jack to the bed. "Come on," he said in Jack's ear, "I want you to fuck me. That cock looks red hot, just like my arse." Jack mentally shrugged - perhaps he had not been sufficiently briefed about the lack of reticence that would be shown - and prepared to prepare Graham. Graham, on this occasion, needed nothing but penetration, so he got on his back, lifted his knees to his ears, pulled his arse cheeks apart, grinned at Jack and said, "I'm greased - what are you waiting for?" "OK, kid, I get the picture," smiled Jack, and a minute later Graham could feel Jack's pubic hair tickling his arse as all 9 inches had gradually been sucked in. A minute after that Graham could feel Jack's cock expand as it thrust even deeper before shooting a volley - several volleys - of spunk into him. A minute after that Jack's eyes were screwed up in delight as Tim removed all traces of cum and arse juice from the now-only-5-inches cock before him. A minute after that the door opened and a naked and erect Vincent appeared. "Hello, Jack, I'm Vincent. Would you like to suck my cock?" I was now certain that they'd written the script for this without telling us. Graham would get fucked first, leaving Jack needing at least 20 minutes - perhaps monger - to recover. During that time he was going to be confronted with a string of naked erect 15-year-olds all wanting him to get their cocks into a nice warm place. Maybe the older ones would tell him that the warm place they wished to visit was between his legs: we would soon find out as the next one in was likely to be one of the oldies. While I was musing over this, and being pleased that some at least of my new colleagues were as good at plotting as Tim and I were, Jack had accepted Vincent's offer and was busy. Vincent was on the bed and Jack was kneeling over him. Vincent is about 6 inches and Jack's lips were hard up against Vincent's belly - was he deep-throating the boy? As you know, I'm no good at deep-throating - nor is Tim - but I was keen to have a close-up view. Vincent went from allowing Jack to suck his cock to frenziedly fucking Jack's throat in 30 seconds flat, but Jack seemed happy to accept the boy's hard thrusting. Tim was watching as closely as I was, and we exchanged a glance of admiration. Vincent came suddenly, grabbing Jack's head and hanging on for dear life. Jack's throat convulsed as he swallowed several times. Eventually Vincent let go of Jack's head and allowed his cock to slip out of Jack's mouth. "Wow!" he said, "I've never done that before." Jack grinned. "Then you'll have to learn how to do it." "Will you show me?" Jack nodded, "if you want. Not now though." In came Charlie, ready for action as the others had been. Jack sat on the bed. "You've fixed this, haven't you, Patrick." I said that there were 11 of us, all willing to help Jack enjoy his visit. I'd not wanted to overwhelm him with so much adolescent beauty at once, so had asked them to come in at 5-minute intervals. "We don't expect you to cope with all of us tonight though. Robin will come in two nights time, and once we've all met both of you it might be nice to meet again in smaller numbers." Charlie stood in front of Jack. "If you're up for it, Jack, I'd like to get inside your arse. You looked really good in your oh-so-tight trousers the other night. We don't know what you like, so we've prepared a varied menu. You've fucked Graham and sucked Vincent. It's my turn to find out if you like being fucked. " Jack reached over and eased Charlie's foreskin back, releasing a large drop of precum. He put out his tongue to gather it. "Mmm! tasty. If your cock's as hot up my arse as it looks and tastes, them I'm all yours. I've fancied you, Charlie, since I first clapped eyes on you," and without further ado he got onto all fours. It was to be doggy then. I think I may have mentioned before that Charlie, though coming to it late, was a fantastic fucker. He must have got it from me. Thirty minutes after he started in on Jack the two of them were lying on their backs exhausted, sweat pouring from them. By then the rest of them had quietly come in, those not yet due having been summoned by Tim. As Charlie finally came (Jack had preceded him by several minutes: his announcement that orgasm was about to take place alerted a rescue party to position himself to catch it all. For once it wasn't Tim, although he had started to move before George beat him to it. By this time Jack was on his back and Charlie was above him) Jack pushed up in an attempt to get even more of Charlie inside him. Spontaneous applause greeted this long-awaited climax. Charlie collapsed onto Jack, their bodies slick with sweat and - miraculously - another cum from Jack (or perhaps just a delayed final couple of spurts from the earlier one: either way there was plenty of bodily fluid gumming them together. A couple of minutes later Charlie slipped out and rolled onto his back. "That was great," murmured Jack, "Patrick, you are the luckiest boy afloat." I grinned. "I know." Tim cleared his throat. "Equal luckiest," he said, "there's a fair few experts down here. By the time you and Robin have been fucked by all of us your view on who's the luckiest boy might need to be amended." Jack laughed. "OK, Tim, you win. Every last one of you is the equal luckiest. Will that do?" Tim nodded, "yeah, but you mustn't take my word for it." There was every likelihood that Jack and Robin would be welcome additions to our midsummer orgy, but it wasn't up to me to issue the invitation. Not yet, anyway. Besides, there was a little research which needed to be carried out first. "Come on, Charlie," I said, "I'm not sleeping with you reeking of sex with anybody except me. Let's shower." This was said sufficiently meaningfully that most, if not all, of the inhabitants of these cabins knew where I was going. "You can shower too, Jack, you won't want all that sweat on your clothes." Jack, all unsuspecting, followed Charlie and me, with the rest of them following him. It would be a tight squeeze - so much the better. Charlie got under the hot spray and I joined him. A second hot spray began to pour onto Charlie, then, as they twigged, several more. Jack smiled. "You have some advanced tastes, boys. Who taught you that one?" Alan, Tim and I all put our hands up immediately, followed by all the others a second or two later." "Do you share this taste, Jack?" I said. It was important to know. I swear that within half a second of his nodding eight current and former bell boys had turned and were hosing him down where he stood. Had not Charlie, Tim and I already emptied our bladders he would have had the full XI. "And Robin?" I said. "I've no idea." =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 99 as we offer hospitality (and ourselves) to Robin. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing last year, and the boy I describe as "me" is really cute. I'm sure he had adventures ... Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================