Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2015 16:48:02 +0000 From: dan freeman Subject: spunkford preparatory school for boys part 8 This site is an amazing resource but it doesn't operate by some mysterious power. It relies on your donations to keep these stories available. So, before you unzip and read on please make a donation to nifty.org. It is quick and easy and will help ensure the continued accessibility of this place to both readers and authors alike. Thanks. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. None of the locations, events and characters are real, neither are they even based upon reality. If you are offended by the nature of the content, or you live in a place where such literature is not allowed or you are under 18 years of age do not read this story. The story will contain explicit M/b and b/b sexual content. I welcome comments and feedback about this, my first story here. If it proves a success I shall continue to build on what I've submitted and think about writing similar stories. puermalo@gmail.com Spunkford Preparatory School for Boys A naughty story by puer malo Part 8: Mr Davey gets Harry alone It was few days after the three senior boys had introduced Harry to some of the joys of boysex. My more observant readers may recall (in Part one) that Mr Davey had a large, well-catalogued collection of boy porn on his laptop and now here he was, safely locked inside his study, with his trousers around his knees and his cock in his hand. He was looking at a selection of pictures – he thought they were probably Russian boys – delighting in both their beauty and the raunchy activities they seemed to be enjoying. His masturbation was suddenly disturbed by a knock on the door. "Damn!" he thought, then he called out, "Wait a moment, hold on." He frantically rearranged his clothing, forcing his big erection into his trousers and zipping up. He went and unlocked his door, checked again that his bulge wasn't too obvious, and then opened it to find Harry in his rugger kit. Mr Davey couldn't believe how sexy the boy looked standing there. His hair was ruffled and his cheeks red from running around on the sports field. Mr Davey's eyes moved down past the boy's striped rugger jersey and the navy blue shorts that finished just below the groin. Oh, those smooth legs so endearingly set off by the quintessential, schoolboy muddy knees! "Sir, sorry to disturb you, sir," began Harry, "but I was playing games and I got knocked on the head and Mr Jones said I should come in early." "Oh, dear, poor fellow," said Mr Davey, "Are you feeling okay?" "Well, I have a bit of a headache and wondered if you might have something I could take." "Did you go to matron and ask?" "She wasn't there, sir," continued Harry. "Well, you had better sit in here for a while until she's back," said Mr Davey, sympathetically, "after all, we don't want you fainting or whatever." He invited Harry into his study and gestured for him to sit down. "I don't suppose it would be too bad for me to give you a paracetemol," said Mr Davey, "I can't see matron complaining about that. I'll just go and fetch one from the bathroom; I'm sure I have them somewhere." Mr Davey went through to his other rooms, leaving Harry briefly alone. The little twelve-year-old looked around the study and noticed the laptop on Mr Davey's desk. It looked like a photo, he thought to himself, and there surely wouldn't be any harm in having a quick look. He wasn't prepared for what he saw. The picture showed two boys of around 10 years. One was kneeling over an armchair and the other was standing behind him holding a pencil-thin three-inch erect penis up against the other boy's bottom. Harry gulped and then turned to see Mr Davey standing there. "Mr Davey - - I - - I'm sorry, sir - - I - - ," he stuttered. "It's okay, Harry," said a rather flustered Mr Davey, "Um – you weren't supposed to see those." Harry said nothing. He was confused, not knowing whether to run away, stand still, cry out or keep silent. Mr Davey finally broke the silence. "Sit down, Harry," he said, "and I'll explain." Harry sat on the couch. "You see," continued the teacher, "I like boys, I always have and I can't help it. I think boys are so perfect and so sexy." "But aren't you supposed to like ladies, sir?" asked Harry. "Most grown-up men do," explained Mr Davey, "but I prefer boys. I just love them and that's all there is to it. Does that upset you, Harry?" "No, sir, it surprises me, I suppose, but I know that there are some men who like to do rude stuff with boys, we were told about it at my last school and – " "Don't say anymore, Harry, if it doesn't worry you then that's fine. I would never, ever hurt a boy so you needn't be scared." Harry relaxed a little and sat back on the couch. He liked Mr Davey and trusted him, so what his teacher had just explained put his mind at rest. He sat in thought for a moment and then looked up at Mr Davey. "Sir, a moment ago you said I shouldn't have seen those," he said, emphasising the last word, "so does that mean you have other pictures on your laptop like the one I just saw?" "Err, yes, I have," said Mr Davey, not sure where this was leading. "And are they all rude pictures of boys?" "Yes, Harry, they are all pictures of nice boys getting up to mischief." "Can I see a few more then, please sir?" "You have to keep this a complete secret if I say yes," said Mr Davey, "Do you understand?" "Yes, sir, I promise I won't tell anybody." "Very well then, come over here and I will show you a few more." Harry stood and joined Mr Davey at his desk. A few keys typed and there was another picture on view. It was of the same two boys but this time one was kneeling down sucking on his friend's little penis. The next few pictures continued the theme, showing the young Russians licking and sucking one another. Of course, Mr Davey knew all about the other evening when Robin, Callum and Shiv had been doing similar things with the boy who was right beside him. The combination of pictures and the company of young Harry was more than a little arousing and his cock was swelling once more inside his trousers. As he clicked through more images he couldn't help notice that Harry seemed to be getting more than a little interested, judging by the way he was grabbing his own young crotch and squeezing it. "What do you think, Harry?" "There nice, sir," replied the boy, his eyes fixed on the pornographic images. "Only nice?" persisted Mr Davey, "How do they make you feel?" "Um - - sexy, I suppose," Harry replied. The next picture showed one boy on his back with his legs up in the air as the other boy had his face against the boy's bum, eagerly licking the little exposed hole. Harry squeezed his own stiff cocklet. He had experienced the delights of cock-sucking just a few nights previously but this was new and unfamiliar. "Sir," he whispered, almost in disbelief, "He's licking that boy's bumhole!" "Yes, and by the look of him he loves having it licked, doesn't he!" "But doesn't it taste nasty, sir?" "No, it tastes lovely, especially if it is a pretty little boy like that!" Mr Davey exclaimed and then went on, "Or a pretty little boy like you, I reckon." Harry looked at Mr Davey and blushed. "Do you think I'm a pretty boy, then?" he asked. "Oh, very much so, Harry," said the teacher, "In fact, I would love to show you how lovely it is to have your bottom licked - - that is, if you would like to see." "Oooh, yes," gushed Harry, "Please, sir, can we try?" Mr Davey stood up and, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder, led him into his bedroom. "Let's undress you first," he said, "lift your arms." Harry raised his arms and His teacher pulled the rugger jersey upwards over the youngster's torso, revealing the undeveloped chest and the tiny brown nips. Then he crouched, took the waistband of the boy's shorts and slowly pulled them down. Harry stepped out of them, one arm resting on Mr Davey for balance, then sat on the edge of the bed and quickly removed hid socks. So there he was, completely naked, with two-and-a-half rigid inches pointing up to the ceiling. "Lie down on the bed," Mr Davey instructed, and Harry did so appreciatively. Mr Davey moved towards young Harry and held him by the ankles. Then he lifted the boy's legs and made him bend his knees. As the man's face went down on the boy, Harry rested his feet on Mr Davey's shoulders. Mr Davey took a moment to savour the view of the hairless pink rosebud he found there. He could smell a faint odour of sweat from the boy's games lesson exertions. With his eyes, he traced the little brown line that divided the perineum and led to the small, tight scrotum. He admired the boy's little cock once more and then his mouth made contact. He flicked a pointed tongue at the tiny pink hole, teasing the boy. Harry stiffened slightly and Mr Davey sensed the bumhole contract. He let his tongue run circles around the edge of the hole, wetting it with his saliva and tasting the smallest trace of shit. He nuzzled his face deeper, probing the boy's bum, then took long dog-like licks that followed the whole length of the boy's crack. Mr Davey stopped briefly, to catch a breath of air as much as anything. The sight of the boy's wet crack and the glistening, spit-soaked hole were his idea of paradise. He unzipped his trousers and released his hard man-cock. After a few wanking strokes he returned to his licking, now forcing his tongue as deep as it could reach within the boy. He could sense that Harry was wanking his own boycock as he used all the methods and techniques he knew. After a few minutes both he and the boy were on the edge. Harry was making tiny groaning sounds now and Mr Davey couldn't hold back any longer. He stood, again taking the boy by the ankles, but this time with one hand as he was now wanking his own seven inches furiously. He raised the boy's legs up high, he almost dangled the boy – he certainly had him in his total control. The exposed wet boyhole, the vulnerability of the youngster, the sight of Harry masturbating his tiny cock between finger and thumb – it was overwhelming and Mr Davey tipped over into orgasm. A rope of thick, white man spunk shot from his cock, coating the youngster's little balls and tricking down into the crack below. Another squirt hit the boy's belly and hand. Mr Davey knelt down and smeared the head of his cock, still pulsing from the final shudders of his orgasm, against the boy's delightful hole At that moment, Harry reached his peak. A pearly drop of boy spunk appeared at the tip of the little penis. Another throb pushed it free and it trickled down his cock, joining the thicker semen of his teacher. . . . . . After they had cleaned up Harry put his rugger kit back on. "How's the headache?" asked Mr Davey, with a grin. "Oh, that's completely gone, sir," laughed Harry, "You've found a magical cure, I think!" "Well, best go to matron, just in case." "Will do, sir," said Harry as he reached the door that took him back to the dormitories. Then he stopped, turned and said, "Sir, you know those pictures?" "Yes, Harry, what about them?" "Do you think you might like to have some pictures of me, maybe?" "That would be lovely, Harry, really lovely!" "We would have to find some other boys to pose with me though, wouldn't we? "Oh, I'm sure I know just the boys who would join in," said Mr Davey "Me too!" said Harry, and with a mischievous wink he scuttled off and was gone. . . . . .