RENEGADES & OUTLAWS
By Pink Panther
All the usual disclaimers apply.
And now for a couple of interesting little interludes before we get back to the main story; I hope you enjoy them! Thanks to everyone who has written to me recently; I really do appreciate it. More feedback is always welcome of course, especially from guys who have not written before. Please send your comments to email@example.com and I’ll reply as soon as I can.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Saturday morning; guitars, amplifiers and bags of spare clothes were packed into the car. Mark and Ryan each gave Rachel a hug and a kiss, and they were on their way. Just after midday, Mark turned the car into the university campus where the summer school was being held. After parking the car, they followed the signs to the foyer where registration was taking place. A friendly looking guy was sitting behind a table. They strode across.
“Mark Connolly and Ryan Clark,” Mark said.
“Hi, I’m Nick Ainsworth, summer school co-ordinator,” the guy responded, standing up to shake Mark’s hand, “pleased to have you onboard!” He handed them each a package. “There’s a detailed course program in there, plus a map showing where everything is and some notes on the housekeeping arrangements that you’ll need to read. If you have any queries, I’ll be around, so please don’t hesitate to ask.” He turned to Ryan. “You’re our youngest student this year,” he said, smiling. “Don’t let that put you off; just get stuck in and enjoy it. There are a few guys a little bit older than you, so you won’t feel out of place.”
He checked his list, selected two room keys, and handed them over. “We’ve given you adjacent rooms so that you can keep an eye on your nephew,” Nick said, lowering his voice. “I don’t want to put a damper on proceedings, but you are responsible for him while he’s here. It’s up to you to make sure he doesn’t get into any mischief.”
Ryan grinned. They were going to get into mischief, lots of it.
“Lunch is in the refectory at one,” Nick finished, “So you’ve just got time to settle in first.”
They quickly located their study bedrooms, plain, but functional and comfortable.
“This takes me back,” Mark commented. “You get used to living in places like this when you go to uni.”
After stashing their things and freshening up, they headed down to lunch.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Lunch was a casual affair, an opportunity for the guys on the course to start getting to know each other. Ryan looked around the refectory. He estimated that there were between fifty and sixty of them, mainly teens and adults, with just a handful of kids who looked not much older than him. Males greatly outnumbered females, he noted, counting a total of only ten women and girls.
After lunch they divided into their various groups. There were six guitarists; two boys, one aged fourteen, the other eighteen, a girl of fifteen and a guy in his twenties, plus Mark and Ryan. They quickly discovered that not only was Carl, their tutor, an awesome player, he was an excellent teacher with a great sense of humour. They weren’t just learning stuff; it was fun too.
Ryan was also relieved to find that he was not going to be outclassed. Mark was clearly the best player in the group; fourteen year old Glyn and fifteen your old Amanda were good players, though not outstanding. The other two guys were barely average. In this company, he’d do alright.
At supper, tutor Carl and the guitar players sat together, Carl keeping them well-entertained.
“So what’s your background?” he asked Mark.
“I’m a mathematician by training,” Mark said quietly. “I took up the guitar at fourteen, when I discovered guys like Eddie van Halen. Parents weren’t keen; dad was positively hostile in fact, so I’m largely self-taught. I guess that’s why my sight-reading’s so poor. I never played in a band till I went to uni; that’s where I got into jazz.”
“So what do you do work-wise?” Carl enquired.
“I’m an actuary,” Mark told him.
“And are you playing in a band at the moment?” Carl enquired.
“Yeah,” Mark responded, smiling. “I’m in this jazz-funk-soul outfit. We play mainly on the pub-rock circuit around the Midlands, plus a few club and college gigs. The other guys are teachers, IT professionals, that sort of thing.”
“Excellent,” Carl said warmly, “great to have you along.”
“I haven’t played with anyone else for years,” Mark admitted. “I simply don’t have the time. That’s why I’m here, to work with some different musicians and freshen up my playing.”
“Great!” Carl enthused. “So what about Ryan here?”
“When he started taking an interest, I decided I ought to help him,” Mark explained, “try to make sure he learned properly, so that at least he’d have the chance to play professionally if he’s good enough.”
“Well you’ve obviously been doing a good job,” Carl encouraged. “He’s outstanding for his age. Big lad of course, with nice big hands; that helps.”
“Oh, he’s got a proper teacher for classical guitar,” Mark explained. “I just help with his jazz playing.”
The evening was taken up with a jam session. Different groups of players were called to the stage and played two tunes before being replaced by a different group. After around half an hour, Ryan’s name was announced. He found himself in a quintet led by bass guitar tutor Phil, alongside Bobby, a young saxophonist, with a couple of older teens on keyboards and drums.
They began with Miles Davis’ ‘All Blues’, which Ryan had learned only a few weeks earlier. After two choruses of the tune and a stunning solo from Bobby, it was his turn. Mark’s advice was firmly planted in his brain: concentrate on sound and phrasing, and don’t overplay. His first chorus was careful, maybe even a little tentative, by the second he was feeling his feet, his playing fluent and assured. On his third and final chorus he was totally on it, the guitar singing out beautifully.
Following solos from the other players, they ended with two more choruses of the tune, receiving generous applause from both tutors and students.
“Well done, everybody,” Phil said, addressing his ad-hoc band. “Now I want us to do something more in the jazz-funk style; any suggestions?”
Ryan thought about suggesting ‘Red Baron’, but quickly rejected the idea; it was too much of a guitar feature.
“How about ‘Cantaloupe Island’?” he asked.
The drummer and keyboard player nodded their agreement, clearly familiar with the tune.
“What about you, Bobby? Phil enquired.
“I’ve not actually played it before,” Bobby said casually, “but it’s no problem; I can sight read it.”
After a few directions from Phil, they launched into it. Once again, Ryan played very competently, although Bobby was definitely the star soloist. Their performance was greeted with more appreciative applause.
“I can’t believe you’ve never played that before,” Ryan said, putting his guitar away. “Your solo was wicked!”
“Well you didn’t do too bad,” Bobby said, smiling. “Your guitar sounded great; really powerful, not thin and weedy like a lot of jazz players.”
They returned to their seats.
“That was wicked!” Ryan bubbled, plopping down next to Mark. “It’s so much better having the bass and drums there. And Bobby’s amazing. What a player!”
“Yeah, you both did really well,” Mark confirmed.
Later in the evening, Mark was called to the stage. Ryan waited with eager anticipation to hear him play. He was very disappointed. Playing tunes that he wasn’t familiar with, Mark struggled, his playing lacking its usual fluency. After stowing his guitar, he returned to his seat.
“That performance explains exactly why I need to be here,” he said quietly, giving the boy a wry grin.
The jam session concluded with the tutors jamming together. It was the first time that Ryan had heard Carl playing with a band. He was awestruck. He’d thought Mark was good, but Carl was phenomenal, his technique, his inventiveness and the way he used his effects pedals had the boy spellbound. With the jam session at an end, they strolled back to the accommodation block. Ryan followed Mark into his room, sitting next to him on the bed.
“Now you’ve seen a proper guitarist,” Mark commented, grinning.
“Man!” Ryan gasped. “He was incredible! I couldn’t take my eyes off him! He paused for a second. “What did you mean, you know, what you said after you’d finished playing?”
“A big difference between guys like me and these professional players is that we have to rehearse everything. The professionals don’t; they just get up and play. Not only can they sight read their parts, they can improvise on tunes they’ve never played before. I find that really difficult. When we learn a new song, we have to play it several times before I’m comfortable soloing on it. So we’ll run through it a couple of times, and I’ll play whatever. Then I’ll work on it at home, so the next time we rehearse, I’ll have a better idea of what to play and after maybe three or four rehearsals, we’ll have nailed it.”
“Oh, I see,” Ryan said, nodding. “Well, I’ve really enjoyed today; I think I’ve learned lots already. Bobby was incredible, wasn’t he?” he enthused. “He can’t be much older than me.”
“Yeah, he played superbly,” Mark agreed. “Nice looking lad too.”
“Tall and skinny like Ashley,” Ryan said, giggling. “I thought you’d like him!”
“Yeah,” Mark conceded, “but that’s as far as it goes.”
Ryan reached across, running his hand along Mark’s thigh.
“Are we going to . . . you know?”
“Do you want to?” Mark asked, nuzzling Ryan’s ear.
“Yeah, course I do!” Ryan said, grinning up at him, his erection sticking up in his jeans.
“Then I’d better lock the door,” Mark whispered.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Terry’s Jaguar glided along the drive towards the main road, Kevin fast asleep in the front passenger seat. Peewee sprawled out in the back, trying to get his head round the events of the previous few hours. They’d been to a party at this humungous house in the middle of nowhere. There’d been several older guys there; some he’d met before, some he hadn’t. There’d been some other boys there too, kids his age or a bit younger, though he vaguely remembered an older boy, about the same age as Kevin.
It was all something of a blur. He was pretty sure that he’d been fucked by some of the older guys, but the details completely eluded him. Just over an hour earlier, he’d woken up in the bed of the guy who owned the house, the man’s cock embedded in his arse. He hadn’t a clue how he’d got there.
He was sore. He hadn’t been as sore as that since the day he had his cherry taken. Even worse, he’d smoked far more weed than he was used to; he felt like shit. He’d got two hundred pounds in his pocket, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t have put it into words, but he sensed deep down that he was in over his head.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The work schedule for the remainder of the summer school was pretty much the same each day. Mornings were devoted to instrumental tuition and afternoons to band workshops. In the evenings, from Sunday to Thursday, there would be more jam sessions, while Friday and Saturday evening would be given over to concerts given by the various workshop bands.
After their Sunday lunch, the students gathered in the auditorium to be allocated to a band. There were to be five small groups of between five and eight players and a big band. Ryan was pleased to find that he and Bobby were to be in the same group, along with thirteen year old keyboard player Alex, and two fifteen year olds on bass and drums. He was even more pleased to discover that Carl would be supervising them. Half an hour later, they were set up in their rehearsal space.
“Welcome everybody,” Carl said brightly. “We’ve put you guys together for a couple of reasons. First, you’re all pretty much the youngest guys that we have here on your particular instruments; second, you’re all pretty much into jazz-funk playing, so you’re very compatible. I also believe that you all have the ability to become very good players, and I hope that by getting you working together, we’ll be able to draw out some of that potential.”
Ryan was surprised to find himself in such company. It wasn’t that he was the youngest; Bobby, at twelve, was only a few months older, but all the other guys played in bands back home, he was the only one who didn’t. They could all sight-read too. He was determined to show that he deserved his place, but his lack of experience showed up immediately. As they began work on their first tune, he stumbled through his written part, while his band-mates played theirs perfectly. Carl called them to a halt. Over the next five minutes, under Carl’s guidance, he practised his part, with Alex picking it out on the piano so that he could hear how it was meant to sound.
“Okay, guys!” Carl said, smiling. “Let’s give it a try!”
This time Ryan was right on it. Better still, once they moved into the solos, he knew instinctively what to play, fitting in with the other guys like he’d been playing with them for years; it was just so easy! All the other guys were good players, but once more Bobby was the star, his alto sax solo simply breathtaking.
The pattern was repeated on each of the three tunes that they worked on. He found it a little embarrassing that he needed time to practise his part before he could play it properly, but nobody seemed to mind, least of all Carl. With the workshop at an end, they began to pack away.
“Thanks for helping me,” Ryan said quietly. “I’m sorry I held everyone up.”
“No worries!” Carl said, grinning broadly. “The sight reading will come if you work on it, and I know you will. The fact is you’ve got a great feel for this type of music; that’s why I picked you.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, smiling.
He picked up his guitar case, preparing to leave.
“Have you heard of Dave Sanborn?” Bobby asked.
“Don’t think so,” Ryan admitted.
“Come to my room,” Bobby suggested. “I’ve got loads of his stuff on my i-player. I’ll play some for you.”
Ryan accompanied Bobby back to his room. In between listening to music, they chatted. An hour later, as they made their way to supper, it seemed as though they’d always known each other.
“So how did your workshop go?” Mark asked as they made their way to the auditorium for the evening jam-session.
“It was wicked!” Ryan bubbled. “It was a bit embarrassing at first though; everybody had to wait while I learned my part.”
“You think you’ve got problems!” Mark said, grinning. “I was exactly the same; I’m just not used to playing stuff straight off.”
“So what’s your band like?” Ryan asked.
“Not bad,” Mark said guardedly. “It’s challenging; that’s the important thing. The rhythm section’s not as solid as I’m used to. Paul and Ian have played together for so long, they fit together like it was second nature.”
“Bobby was fantastic!” Ryan enthused, his eyes sparkling. “After the workshop, we went to his room to listen to all this music he’s got. It was all guys I’ve never heard of, but it was great; he’s into all the stuff that I like.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone to hang out with,” Mark said gently. “It’s much better than being with me all the time.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Over the next couple of days, Ryan and Bobby spent all their free time together, chatting, listening to music and working on stuff. Ryan couldn’t have been happier; they’d made a connection, not just as musicians, but as friends. Not only was Bobby a wonderful player with an encyclopaedic knowledge of the music; he was great fun to be with. For Ryan, it almost felt like having Josh and Ashley rolled into one.
It was late on Tuesday afternoon. Following their workshop, they passed through the main reception area.
“I’m going for a piss,” Bobby said casually.
Without any other thought in mind, Ryan followed him into the gents. Standing at the urinal, he took his cock out of his shorts and began to pee. Without even looking, some sixth sense told him that Bobby, standing immediately to his left, was checking him out. He swallowed hard. As discreetly as possible, he peeked across.
Bobby had opened the top of his brightly patterned summer shorts. His penis was fully erect; around four inches long and slim, with a little nozzle of foreskin protruding beyond the head. Ryan’s cock responded instantly, rising to full mast without him even thinking about it. The boys looked at each other and grinned. Ryan jerked his head towards the door. They adjusted their shorts and left.
“My room,” Ryan said.
Bobby nodded. They walked purposefully to the accommodation block. Ryan opened the door to his room. They stepped inside, Ryan locking the door behind them. Bobby looked at him nervously, as though not sure what would happen next. Ryan went across to the window, closing the curtains. He turned round, moving slowly towards Bobby until he was standing directly in front of him.
“Have you done this before?” he whispered.
Bobby nodded, still looking nervous. Ryan reached down, undoing the drawstring at the top of Bobby’s shorts and opening the Velcro fastening. He reached inside, running his fingers over his new friend’s penis, stone hard and throbbing with the boy’s heartbeat. Without a word being spoken, they kicked off their trainers. Tee-shirts were quickly discarded. Bobby reached forward, fumbling as he opened the clip at the top of Ryan’s cargo shorts. He pulled down the zip. Ryan wiggled his hips; the shorts fell round his ankles, leaving him just in his black boxer briefs. Bobby looked at them apprehensively, studying the hard bulge in the front.
“Go on,” Ryan urged.
Bobby put his fingers in the waistband, easing them over Ryan’s hips and skinning them down his legs. He gently fondled Ryan’s cock, longer than his own and considerably thicker.
“That’s a nice one,” he whispered. “Can you cum?”
“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed, stepping out of his shorts and briefs.
He reached out, easing Bobby’s shorts off his slender hips. They fell to the floor. Moments later, they were lying on Ryan’s bed, each with an arm round the other’s shoulder, gently caressing each other’s cock.
“So can you cum?” Ryan enquired.
“Not really,” Bobby said. “A little drop of stuff oozes out sometimes, but I don’t really cum.”
“So who d’you do it with?” Ryan asked.
“One of the guys in the band I’m in,” Bobby said quietly.
“So how old’s he?” Ryan probed.
“Nearly fourteen,” Bobby said.
“And what d’you like doing?” Ryan persisted.
“You know, feeling each other and wanking each other off,” Bobby told him. “What about you?”
“I’ve got a couple of mates back home that I do stuff with,” Ryan said casually. “One’s a few months older than me; the other one’s a couple of months younger.”
He moved his hand down between Bobby’s legs, his fingers tickling the area right behind the boy’s balls. Bobby gasped, his eyes glazing over.
“Feel good?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah!” Bobby whispered. “Awesome!”
“Want to do it to me?” Ryan prompted.
Bobby eagerly returned the favour, his slender fingers working wonders.
“That’s wicked, man!” Ryan purred, grinning.
Ryan took a deep breath, summoning up his courage. He was sure that this was about as far as Bobby had gone. They’d only be together for a few days; if things were going to go further, it would be down to him to push the boat out.
“I’ll show you something else we do,” he whispered.
He scooted down the bed, resting his head on Bobby’s tummy. Holding the base of the boy’s penis between thumb and forefinger, he closed his lips over it. He sucked expertly, using his free hand to caress Bobby’s balls and stroke his perineum. Bobby writhed on the bed, moaning quietly, totally lost in the experience. Suddenly his whole body stiffened, his hips pushing up off the bed.
“Ugh! Ughh! Ahhhh!” he gasped, his fingers clawing the bed, his penis jerking in Ryan’s mouth.
Ryan felt a little drop of something on his tongue; cum, pre-cum, he wasn’t sure. After a few seconds, he gently released Bobby’s penis, licking his lips and grinning mischievously. Bobby was staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling.
“So how was that?” Ryan asked.
“Unbelievable,” Bobby croaked, still struggling for air. “That was the best ever!” He paused for a few seconds. “D’you want me to do you now?”
“Yeah, if you want to,” Ryan said quietly. “Have you done it before?”
“No,” Bobby admitted, shaking his head.
“Well, it’s up to you,” Ryan went on, “you don’t have to.”
Bobby moved into position, carefully examining Ryan’s cock. He pushed out his tongue, licking the tip. It didn’t taste bad; it didn’t really taste of anything much. He took a deep breath and went down on it; it felt good; warm and hard in his mouth. He sucked it steadily, working his tongue all over it. Ryan lay back, basking in the wonderful sensations, gently stroking Bobby’s dark brown hair. He felt himself getting close.
“Bobby!” he warned, “I’m gonna cum!”
He was certain that Bobby would pull away, but he didn’t, sucking, slurping and swallowing until he’d taken everything that Ryan had to give. The task completed, they lay down side by side, grinning at each other.
“I never thought you’d to let me cum in your mouth,” Ryan said appreciatively. “That was wicked!”
“I wanted to,” Bobby confessed. “It was great!”
Ryan was happier than at any time he could remember. Having Bobby as a friend and musical collaborator was great, but to cap even that, they’d just had wonderful, uninhibited boy-on-boy sex. How much better could it get?
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The evening jam-session completed, Ryan bounced into Mark’s room, parking himself on the bed.
“You’ll never guess what happened this afternoon!” he said excitedly.
“I’m not even going to try,” Mark said, smiling, “because you’re bursting to tell me.”
Over the next few minutes, Ryan regaled him with the story.
“Well good for you,” Mark said warmly, as Ryan completed his tale. “I’m delighted you’ve found each other.”
“You don’t seem surprised,” Ryan said quizzically.
“I’m not that surprised,” Mark admitted. “It isn’t anything I could put my finger on, but I had wondered about him. You’re very lucky; he’s really cute. I wish I could have found someone like him when I was your age. So I guess you guys will be keeping in touch when this is over?”
“Yeah, by e-mail, mainly,” Ryan said. “I’m not sure when we’ll be able to see each other again though,” he added, with a hint of frustration. “Bobby lives up near Newcastle.”
“Yeah, that’s a long way,” Mark conceded. “Anyway, how’s the band coming along?”
“Brilliant!” Ryan bubbled, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m improving so much, playing with these guys, and Carl’s fantastic. Well, before we went to the workshop today, Bobby gave me the charts for this tune he wants us to play. It’s called ‘Ramblin’. Wicked tune, but the timing’s really difficult.”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “I know the tune; I’ve never tried playing it. The timing’s very tricky.”
“Well me and Bobby are going to practise it a bit more,” Ryan rattled on, “then we’re going to ask Carl if we can play it at the concert on Saturday.”
“Excellent!” Mark encouraged. “By the way, what’s Bobby’s surname?”
“Matheson.” Ryan said.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Mark said, nodding. “His mum’s going to be singing a couple of songs with our band. She’s pretty good actually.”
“I haven’t heard her sing, but I’ve met her a couple of times,” Ryan said. “She’s okay, but she treats Bobby like he’s about five. This afternoon we had to go to my room cause she barges into his without even knocking.”
“Yeah, I can imagine that,” Mark said. “You’re off on holiday with Josh next week, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Ryan confirmed. “Wednesday.”
“Looking forward to it?” Mark asked.
“Sort of,” Ryan said, looking uncomfortable. “I wish it was Ashley I was going with.”
“Really?” Mark queried. “You and Josh haven’t fallen out, have you?”
“Oh no,” Ryan said. “It’s just that all we ever do to together is music, and we won’t be able to do that. Well, we can do, you know, but we can’t do that all the time!”
“Going to Italy is a great opportunity for you,” Mark said encouragingly. “So make the most of it. I’m sure you’ll find lots to do.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said, smiling.
“So how are you getting on with using condoms?” Mark enquired.
“Oh, me and Josh don’t fuck any more,” Ryan said blandly. “We just suck each other off. I prefer fucking Ashley anyway.”
Mark allowed himself a smile. He knew exactly where the boy was coming from; fucking Ashley was the pinnacle. He stretched an arm around Ryan’s shoulder. “So are you exhausted after your earlier exertions?” he asked quietly.
“No chance!” Ryan said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Mark’s band performed on the Friday evening. Ryan was impressed. The band was very together, and Mark played as well as he’d ever heard him.
“You did really well tonight,” Ryan commented afterwards.
“Yeah, it was what I came here for,” Mark responded. “I’ve got lots of new ideas and stuff that I’ll be able to use playing with Renegade.”
Bobby and Ryan’s turn came the following evening. Their band’s set was a triumph, culminating in a joyous, foot-stomping rendition of ‘Ramblin’, with a scintillating solo from every band member. They finished to enthusiastic applause. After packing his things away, Ryan returned to his place in the auditorium, sitting next to Mark.
“That was the best thing ever!” he bubbled excitedly. “Thanks for bringing me; it’s been wicked!”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Ryan lay on his bed reading. It was 6.00 a.m.; in just a few hours, they’d be on their way home. There was a light tap on the door. He got up and opened it. Bobby slipped inside.
“Great to see you,” Ryan whispered, running his hand over the front of Bobby’s shorts.
They discarded their clothes and climbed onto the bed, lying close together, stroking and fondling each other. Ryan would have liked to kiss, but sensed that Bobby wasn’t quite ready for that. In any case, he had something else in mind. He moved down the bed, taking Bobby’s penis into his mouth, gently sucking it. Squeezing some KY onto his fingers, he slipped his hand between Bobby’s legs, quickly locating the boy’s anus. He pushed inside. Bobby moaned appreciatively. Ryan pushed in a second finger. Bobby gave a slight gasp, followed by a satisfied sigh.
For the previous four days, Ryan had fingered Bobby’s anus every time he’d sucked him, though that was as far as it had gone. If they were to take that final step, it would have to be now. He worked his fingers in and out, trying to decide how best to ask. More than anything else, Bobby was a friend; he didn’t want to upset him. To his surprise, Bobby came to his rescue.
“Are we going to do it?” he asked. “I know you want to.”
“Are you okay with that?” Ryan queried, releasing Bobby’s penis.
“Yeah, I want you to,” Bobby said.
Ryan passed Bobby the KY, allowing the boy to smear it over his cock. He thought for a moment about how they were going to do it. He’d have liked the fuck Bobby the same way that he did Ashley, but with the single bed tight against the wall, that might have been awkward. He picked up the pillow, placing it in the middle of the bed. Without even being asked, Bobby lay face down on top of it, his legs spread apart.
Ryan lowered himself onto him, guiding his cock onto Bobby’s pucker. He pushed hard, penetrating him immediately.
“Ohhh!!” Bobby gasped.
“You okay?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Bobby said breathlessly, sounding less than certain.
“D’you want me to take it out?” Ryan questioned.
“No, just give me a minute,” Bobby said.
Gradually, Bobby began to relax, his breathing becoming easier. Very slowly, Ryan eased his cock deeper into Bobby’s rectum.
“Oh yeah!” Bobby moaned, Ryan’s invading cock pushing over his sex-gland.
A moment later, Ryan’s tummy was pressed firmly against the slim lad’s bum. He began to fuck with long, powerful thrusts, almost pulling out before driving back in again. Bobby moaned and whimpered, the mixture of pain and pleasure making him almost delirious. His orgasm hit him like a runaway train.
“Oh! Ohhhh!” he gasped.
His feet flicked up off the bed, his sphincter tightening sharply around Ryan’s cock. In the next instant his penis pulsed and jiggled, a little drop of fluid oozing onto the pillow. Ryan redoubled his efforts, fucking the boy harder than ever.
“Bobby! Bobby!” he moaned “Oh yeah!!”
His cock reared up, several jets of sticky boy-cum spurting into Bobby’s rectum.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
“You seemed to be having a good time this morning,” Mark said quietly as the Mercedes headed along the drive towards the main road.
Ryan looked across at him, his eyes almost falling out.
“My bed was just the other side of the wall,” Mark explained, running his hand along Ryan’s thigh.