Date: Thu, 27 Jun 2013 13:00:31 +0400 From: Ivan Ivanocich Subject: Russian Choirboy Pubes - 14 - Preparations for Camp This story contains scenes of a mild sexual nature and if you are not allowed to read it please don't. If you are not old enough please don't. If by reading this you are breaking any laws in your state, town, city or country then please do not read any further. If however you do, you can legally and want to, then read on and enjoy the story. Please DO NOT make copies, or post this story in any other sites without my specific permission. Preparations for the CAMP! Thank you for all the kind comments and suggestions about British culture, which I did not know. I shall be happy to receive more suggestions, especially about how British boys would react too mixing with Russian boys and Russian culture and conditions. How they might speak with favourite phrases and slang; would they eat our food readily, etc. Please send them to Vanya at ivan.ivanocich.97@mail.ru In this chapter, preparations for camp are made, and Artem updates his list, and displays a full bush: Pasha's thickening pubes are admired, and Little Dima looks in vain for signs of hairs but produces thicker spunk! At end of the school year the fantastic achievements of the choir were marked at a concert in the school hall, which was packed to capacity, with people standing and sitting in the isles in order to hear the wonderful choral music, and the solos of Artem, Pasha, and Little Dima. The following day, the final of the year, was the Closing Bell ceremony, when again selected items were sung, and Artem led the assembled crowd in the Anthem of the Russian Federation in a voice that far surpassed that of any female soprano or contralto. Dima was given a special presentation of beautiful flowers by the Director and a surprise tea party by his boys, which moved him very much. "Oh my beautiful Artem," Dima thought as he reflected on the boy's wonderful singing. "How long will your voice last? Let it be a year longer," he prayed." Over the past year, Dima had become close to many of his boys, but none so more than Artem, whom he loved very deeply. Now the three months of the school holidays stretched ahead. Two of these weeks, at the beginning of June, would be occupied by the choir camp but after that there would be a degree of loneliness for Dimitry Petrov as he faced the rest of summer without either his work or his boys, especially Artem. He worried that in absentia the unthinkable would happen and the boy would grow apart from him and not return to him with the same love. Artem had waited for Dima after the school day and asked him why he seemed so sad. "Are you not happy with us?" he asked, stroking his friend's arm as they walked together. So Dima told him how he felt. "Don't worry, Dimka; we'll have the camp in two weeks and then why should we not be together in the holidays? I think it's compulsory," he added. "In fact I forgot to tell you that my grandfather wants to go by train to see his old friend Vova and I will go with him. He wants to invite you too! Will you come with us for a month?" "Of course I'll come with you," he replied, with excitement in his voice. "Are you sure your mother will not mind?" "Why should she mind? In any case, she is going away on business for two months from the end of June; that's why I must go with my grandfather. He likes you very much and thinks our friendship very beautiful. He knows how you have helped me and how much I love you too." "Let's hope he doesn't know about some of the things we have done together!" Dima replied. "I don't like to deceive him." "We have done nothing wrong, Dimka," Artem added, as usual taking charge of the situation. "If he knew, he might not understand, but he doesn't, so that is best. But you know, I think he and Vova too had a special friend like you when they were boys. I overheard them discussing it one night." It was true that most of the expressions of love between Dima and Artem were emotional and quite normally physical, but sometimes, as we know, on the occasions described these spilled over in excitement, due mainly to Artem's highly-sexed nature, and also to the addition of the hot-blooded Pasha to the select group. Artem never saw his father now, and had no brothers; and now his mother spent so much time away, he was used to living alone in the apartment, looked after by his doting grandparents, who lived in the apartment two floors below. If he had never had the friendship of Dima, Artem's life may have become very mixed up. Now, at the age of 14, he was at the same time deeply happy with what he had, and also greatly wistful for some of the lost things in his life: he also worried about his future life. But now, he pulled himself from these reflective thoughts, smiled at his best friend and kissed him on the cheek. "Come Dimka, why are we so slow? We shall miss our bus. You will come home with me, of course. My grandparents are waiting for us." And so they ran together to the stop, and arrived just as the small bus arrived. The following week was very taken up by arrangements for the camp. The boys' parents had made agreements with the school and money had been provided by the education department. Very complex arrangements had had to be made in making the necessary documents and gaining the permissions and tickets for the British participants. Once the official invitations had been issued, the visas of the boys were applied for. Unfortunately, the visit had almost been cancelled due to some stringent regulations laid down by the British Consulate. "It seems as if these people are insisting on our providing luxury conditions," the school director had said to Dima. We are not going to live in a luxury hotel in the city: it is a children's camp! And what is this document about " Safety Issues"? I do not understand it. Do they think that our children are not safe? How can we guarantee that no broken glass will lie on the ground, for instance! It's impossible. All we can do is to say that our camp is of the highest standard and regularly inspected by the health board. Please write this and add that our camp has a hospital and two doctors who will examine the boys for any health issues, and that the food is of the highest quality, using only natural ingredients. Kasha will be served every day and no synthetic food will be allowed. And we certainly cannot provide for vegetarians: it is not healthy for growing children to live on a diet of vegetables alone, and our doctors would not allow it in the camp. Of course, conditions were far better in the days of our great Soviet Union, but we can only hope for the return of those days and better conditions." The director was speaking about the collapsed infrastructure and especially bad roads in Russia today. Things are improving, and only last year our President decreed that the best elements of the Soviet Union must be restored, and cited that Pioneer Camps, many of which have fallen into dilapidation, must be restored for the enjoyment of our children. Fortunately the camp used by the school was of reasonable standard and quite comfortable, although some of the buildings were quite broken. In Soviet times it would have been splendidly kept and quite beautiful, but now there was no money now, so what could one do? "I'm sure I don't know what all these documents mean; it all sounds very crazy and stupid to me," Dima replied. I think if they are coming to Russia they must accept our conditions, and I am sure - as you say - that our children are far more healthy and safe than children in the west. I hear that most of them have health issues as a result of being too fat and lazy." "And then they want to know if our leaders are fit persons to look after children, and if we allow nut products in the camp! Do they think we employ criminals and people from the gulag? For all we know they may be sending spies with their group, but we are not asking such questions of them." Dima laughed at this prospect and joked that maybe she should send the names to the FSB for checking! "It's not such a bad idea, Dimitry Petrov. I will take some advice on this from my contacts," she replied rather cryptically. As so, after some correspondence between the two groups and schools, and other parties, the invitations and tickets for the camp were issued and the visas successfully applied for; and by the beginning of June everything was in place. Early that month of June, some days after the close of the school year, Pasha, Artem and Dima and little Dima were at Artem's place practising some solos. "So, Dimka, who are these English choirboys who are joining our camp? Not one of them replied to our invitation to communicate in vkontakte or Skype," Pasha said, after finishing a very motet by Mendlessohn. "I expect they are scared of us." Artem added. "But you must have photos of them, Dimka." "Well, I have the photos they sent for the Invitations and visa applications, and also some photos the choir director sent me unofficially," he replied; "I can show you as they are on my flashcard." "Yes, yes, show us!" little Dima added, "Artem can made a new list." "Ok, Dimka, bring your flashcard and I'll make a list now," Artem replied, not without some excitement in his voice. Dima brought out the flash card from his bag and gave it to Artem, who opened the file and copied it to his computer. "Now, guys, let's have a look at the opposition," Pasha added. So Dima opened the file and all gathered round the computer. Artem stated that having listened to a sound file of the choir and one of their soloists on the internet, it would not be unkind to say that he thought they would be no opposition. "So there are ten boys in the group and two leaders, one of which is the choir director. Most of the choir cannot come, so it is just a group. I've already arranged them according to age to assist Artem's list," Dima said, with a smile. Artem's New List: "These boys Peter and Josh don't look as old as Pasha and me," Artem said, with some astonishment. So how can they be singing bass or tenor except in the type of broken voice we could all use if we wanted." "And look at this fucking 12-year-old baritone," little Dima added. "Do you have a better photo of him, Dimka? Does he have a bush?" "Who knows! He is the son of the director," Dima replied; "I have some photos of him and his friend Jack. He has a deep speaking voice, as I heard him when talking to his father in Skype" "Fucking wanker! Pasha said, as he saw a photo of Jack and Christian in school uniform."This Jack looks a likely candidate for a bush, too; I bet he's spunking well" So, after some discussion and studying the available photos, Artem was able to compile a speculative list. Peter - 15 Bass soloist: Still boyish looking; few signs of puberty in the face. Possible full bush or developing pubes. Thickly spunking. Josh - 15 Tenor soloist: Very young looking. Young pubes. Andrew -- 14 Bass: Mature boy. Certain full bush. Facial hair Michael - 14 Alto: Very young looking Jack - 13 Treble soloist: Possible pubes or even bush. More mature-looking than Michael. Photo shows bulge in school trousers and some hair above lip. Christian - 12 Baritone: Good-looking boy but not overly mature. Pubes. Deep speaking voice. Jon - 11 Treble: Very young looking. Smoth. Adrian -11 Treble: Possibly spunking thickly. Smooth. Ian -10 Treble soloist: Very young looking. Not spunking. Smooth. Matthew -10 Treble: Mature for his age. Possible spunker. Smooth Dima explained that this select group of the choir comprised four vocal ranges, and voiced his concern about how these lower voices would blend with our boys. "Maybe we can get them singing correctly," Artem suggested. "We can try at any rate." At this point, Little Dima, who over the past weeks had been getting strong urges to masturbate several times a day, was becoming excited at this exercise and as soon as Artem began commenting on his list Dima had his little penis out, now fully erect, and was sliding the loose foreskin back and forth over his silky head. "Hey, Dimka, you are getting as bad as Pasha! Let's see if you have pubes yet," Artem said, as they all watched the boy fingering his growing penis. Dima obligingly slipped his briefs down to reveal his still smooth pubic region and dropping balls still completely devoid of hair. When erect, his penis lengthened significantly, straight as a thin iron rod pointing menacingly at the ceiling. "I'll be 14 in two weeks - at the camp even - so I thought I might get some hairs soon, but they won't grow!" he said sadly, gently rubbing his balls with the palm of his right hand." "Don't worry," joked Pasha; "Pubes will be your 16th birthday present. You'll be a boy soprano till you are 18 and outshine even Artem." The others, and even Dima, thought this both funny, and even possible. "But my spunk's turning white and is thicker," Dima added proudly; "And my orgasms nearly knock me out. Last night it made me cry out, and my mother thought I had had a bad dream! She burst into the room and nearly caught me wanking. I'm sure she suspects, though!" The others gathered round to examine their little friend, and it was true that he had not a hair either on his pubic region, or on his balls. "But note, boys," Dima added, gently fingering his now enlarging balls, which were now drawn up by the erect penis, pointing strongly at 20 degrees from his smooth flat stomach. "See how the balls are filling out in the sac and now hanging quite heavily. Pasha, by now, has removed his trousers as he was now very uncomfortable in his excited state. The nearly 13-year-old's pubes had been growing quickly, and when he removed his shorts Artem remarked on his development. "Fucking puberty, Pasha; your pubes are growing as quickly as mine did. You were smooth last month, and now look at the fucking hairs; and if your balls drop any lower they will hang out of your shorts. Turn round, and let's see how they hang from the back. I doubt the soloists of this other choir have balls like mine and Pasha." It was true that Pasha's pubic region was now densely covered by very short but black hairs, not yet curling. His low hanging balls (still the largest in the choir) were still smooth and shapely, making Dima and Artem hot with excitement as he turned round and slightly parted his legs to reveal his swinging sac. "Ok, Pasha if you suck little Dima, I'll gently wank your penis," Artem said, as he struggled to get his trousers off in the excitement. He was already half erect and his penis had pushed out the hem of his briefs displaying the fringe of his pubes for all to see. (Readers of the whole story will know that our dear Artem was completely smooth only nine months before when the choir had been formed and he had first spunked strongly in the banya. Over the subsequent weeks, his light down had turned first darker and then his pubes had grown in, first straight and now curly and thick. His ample balls (second only to Pasha) were also now covered in long hairs and his penis had by now thickened significantly. He was also shaving light hairs from his upper lip twice a week, but had resolved to let them grow during the summer in the absence of his mother, who had ordered him to shave them.) He now swifty took off his briefs. "Fuck, Artem; you're really got a full bush now," Pasha said, as he admired Artem's pubic region. "You can hardly see your balls for hair. Shall we comb it for you?" he said running his fingers through the forest of curly hairs. "Fucking spunker, Artem; you're almost hanging as low as Pasha," Dima added . "It's his fucking pubes that make him look bigger," Pasha replied; and it was true. "Fucking puberty, boys," Dima interjected. "Let's get on with the excitement!" "And, so; what will I do while he's sucking me?" Dima asked, not quite sure of his task, and hot with excitement. "You can wank Artem, " Dima suggested, "if you can get your hand round his penis; look how thick it is when hard!" Like Pasha's too, Artem's foreskin slid naturally back as soon as he became hard beyond a certain point. This point had now been reached and the head was now partly exposed; Little Dima gently took the throbbing member between his thumb and first finger and slid the skin back to its full extent. And so to the wanking: Dima watched as Pasha gently took little Dima's silky, throbbing penis into his mouth. The little boy's regular excitement had loosened the skin and the head was fully exposed. Artem then took Pasha's member and drew back the skin to expose the large head, which popped out like a helmet, and started to wank him. Pasha was now sucking harder on little Dima and was rubbing his hands on his round bottom; and the little boy was writing in ecstasy as he came closer to his crashing orgasm and started thrusting into Pasha's mouth. The first to cum was Pasha, of course, who could never last for long. As described before, his orgasms were long and copious, and he sent four long blasts of choirboy spunk over little Dima, who cried out: "Fucking claaaaassnaaaaaan --- I'm going to cum," he screamed in a high voice. "Quiet, Dimka; people will hear below," Dima cautioned, as the boy's body shook and hot spunk shot from his penis into Pasha's mouth. Dima then fell back, his penis slapping against his stomach and two more blasts of sperm, quite white and thick, shot from his penis. "Fucking classic!! he moaned, before sitting up to see that Artem had been left unfinished. But at the sight of Dima's orgasm, Artem quickly took his own member into his fist and wildly wanked with the others looking on. "Go, go,go, Artem!" the thers cried as Artem,once again proved himself to be the strongest spunker in the choir. Soon all was finished, and all cleaned up before going down to Artem's grandparents for something to eat! "And, so boys; were you in good voice tonight?" Artem's grandfather asked as the boys sat down to eat. "Yes, of course," Artem answered. We all performed very well, didn't we, Dima?" "Yes, they are getting better every day, and Artem and were in especially good form tonight!" Dima replied, thinking it was not just the singing that was improving. Comments to Vana.