THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

Hi guys! We're back again. I'm pleased to be able to post this new chapter only two weeks after the previous one. I haven't been able to do that for a while. So read on and enjoy!

Thanks for all the feedback that I received to chapter 43, which included some very interesting observations. Of course, more feedback is always welcome. Please send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

And last but not least, please may I encourage you to make a donation to Nifty, which depends on readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. Please be as generous as you can!

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

January 1961

On Friday morning, when Alex arrived at school, he was greeted by Glyn Daniels, the geography master who looked after the school cross-country teams.

"Your boy Newton won the second-year race yesterday afternoon," Glyn announced with obvious excitement.

"Really?" Alex responded, unwilling to reveal that he already knew. "That's excellent!"

"Yes, he ran really well. He took his time getting to the front. Then he just ran on Downing's shoulder and outsprinted him at the end."

"I'm guessing you'll want him to run in a few races."

"Only one, actually. I'd have liked him to run in the county championships in two weeks' time, but that's three miles. Yesterday was only a mile and three quarters. As he hasn't trained, he might find the extra distance hard. He'd have to run against third year boys too. That could put him off completely. It's not worth it. But after half term, we'll be going to the Hawkswood Relays. There's a race for first and second year boys. There are four legs. Each leg is about the same distance as they ran yesterday. Now some of my boys are starting to run pretty well. Yesterday, Sherwood was third, Coulter fourth and Locke fifth, so the footballers didn't have it all their own way like they did a year ago. If Newton runs for us, we'll have a useful team. And if it's close, having someone with his finishing speed on the last leg could make all the difference."

"Yes, I can't disagree with that," Alex said, admiring the man's almost childlike enthusiasm.

"Could you send Newton to see me at morning break please," Glyn asked. "I'm in room nineteen."

"He'll be there," Alex assured him.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Saturday morning was crisp and bright. Alex arrived at school at twenty past nine. He headed straight to the changing room where his team were already getting into their football kit. They'd be playing against Welham Grange. In the Autumn term, they'd played them away from home. In a scrappy game, they'd managed a 2 – 2 draw. Alex was hoping for much better this time, especially given their recent improvements in training. As soon as everyone was ready, the boys sat quietly on the bench, ready to listen to his pre-match talk.

"Okay lads," he said calmly. "When we played this lot at their place, we got a draw. We've improved a great deal since then. If you can perform the way you did in training on Wednesday, we should do well. Let's see if you can."

At twenty to ten, the match began. Right from the outset, the Woodchurch defence looked very solid, comfortably breaking up their opponents' attacks. Wade, who finally seemed to be growing into his role as captain, was marshalling his fellow defenders far better than he had previously.

Their attacking play had improved too. The interplay between Bradshaw, Monk and Sanderson was simply outstanding. Bradshaw looked even more tigerish than usual, winning the ball and beating defenders, but time and again Monk got himself into exactly the right position to receive a pass from Bradshaw or a knock-down from the big centre-forward. And once he'd got the ball, he used his skill and composure to make one telling contribution after another.

The opposition simply couldn't cope. The Woodchurch boys scored four goals, two from Monk, and one each from Sanderson and Bradshaw, while conceding none. Alex could not have been more delighted. After a difficult first term, the lads were starting to work as a team and play the way he wanted them to.

At the final whistle, he noticed Bradshaw run across to Monk, putting his arm around his team-mate's shoulder and whisper in the boy's ear, Monk smiling back at him. Alex had to smile too. After the rather difficult relationship they'd had, it was wonderful to see the boys looking so happy in each other's company.

They headed back to the changing room. On the way, Alex encountered Mrs Monk and her younger son, who'd been shouting encouragement from the opposite touchline from the one where he'd been stationed.

"Good to see you!" Alex said brightly. "Your lad was superb today!"

"Yes, it was good to see," the ever-smiling Mrs Monk replied. "Thanks for all the work you've put in with them."

"I was rather concerned on Monday, after the cross-country race," Alex said gently. "He could hardly breathe. I had no idea he'd had a serious illness."

"Oh, we nearly lost him," Mrs Monk said in a very matter-of-fact tone. "But Stephen's a little fighter. He pulled through, and I've treasured every day since. It's his spirit and his enthusiasm. It doesn't matter what happens, he'll have a smile for me. He's just so much fun to have around. If I'm having a bad day, I think of Stephen, and everything seems alright again."

"And he's the best brother in the whole world!" the younger lad insisted.

"I wondered if you couldn't have given him a note to excuse him from the cross-country," Alex suggested quietly. "He was in a pretty bad way when he finished."

"I didn't even know about it until he got home," Mrs Monk said, giving Alex a wry smile, "but that's Stephen for you. If it's something all the other boys have to do, he's got to do it too. If I'd tried to given him a note, he'd have said, `Mum, stop fussing; I'll be fine.' And really, there's not much I can say. It was having that sort of spirit that kept him alive."

Alex could only respond with a nod. Once again, he felt tears begin to well up. Monk's courage in the face of adversity was quite remarkable, an inspiration. How many other boys would have shown that sort of determination? Regaining his composure, Alex entered his team's changing room. The boys were sitting on the bench, waiting for him.

"Well done today," he said quietly. "That's the best we've ever played. I'm proud of every one of you. I know it's been hard, but you're finally starting to look like a team, and this was the result. But remember, we've improved because you've worked hard and you've done what I asked you to do. And as long as you keep working hard, we can get even better."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After a light lunch, a wash and a change of clothes, Alex drove to the Kings Head. He was feeling on top of the world. As usual, Whitney was there waiting for him.

"Hello sir!" Michael said, settling into his seat. "You look like you're in a good mood."

"Is it that obvious?" Alex asked, grinning. "Yes, this morning, my first-year football team played really well. We won four-nil."

"Does Bradshaw play in that team, sir?"

"Yes. He always plays well, but this morning he was outstanding. Scored one goal and was involved in the build-up to the other three."

"Sorry sir. I don't understand football. I hate it!"

"But lots of boys do enjoy it, as I'm sure you realise," Alex said quietly. "Still, it would be a very boring world if we all liked the same things."

As they chatted about this and that, the journey seemed to fly past. Almost before Michael knew it, they were turning into the Cathedral Close. Having parked the car, they walked the short distance to Mr Smith's house. Alex rang the bell. Moments later, Mr Smith welcomed them inside.

"Good to see you!" he said warmly. "Come through. Van Kerskstraat's eager to meet you."

They made their way into the lounge. Alex's eyes widened. Sitting on the sofa was one of the prettiest boys he'd ever seen, with sparkling blue eyes, a classic pre-teen nose, and a wonderful, slightly mischievous smile.

But Van Kerkstraat's most outstanding feature was his hair, which was blond and had a slight wave to it. While at the sides and back it was cut very short, on top it was thick and quite long. The lad had it brushed back off his face, but right at the front, a stray lock curled anarchically over his forehead. Alex was totally captivated. He glanced across. Whitney was almost drooling.

As they stepped into the room, Van Kerkstraat stood up to greet them.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said, taking Alex's proffered hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you too," Alex said, smiling, "This is Whitney."

"Oh yes," Van Kerkstraat said, shaking the teenager's hand. "You're Holdsworth's friend, aren't you? He's told me a lot about you."

Alex looked the lad up and down. His upper body was quite scrawny, as eleven-year olds often are, but his legs and bottom were perfection; his legs slim but not skinny, his bottom small but delightfully rounded. The boy's only slight flaw was a chin that was a little too small and narrow for his features to be considered perfect, but for Alex, that simply added to the allure.

After a welcome cup of tea, they made their way upstairs to Mr Smith's bedroom. Alex would have preferred it if they'd adopted Mr Brown's routine, which would have seen him undressing the delightful Van Kerkstraat. As it was, he and his host settled into their chairs while the boys removed each other's clothes.

Very soon, both of them were down to their underwear. Whitney's briefs were the first to go, Van Kerkstraat skinning them right down the teenager's legs.

"Wow!" the eleven-year old breathed. "Your thingy's really long! Holdsworth told me you'd got a nice one!"

Clad only in his sexy white briefs, he knelt on the floor, closing his lips over the head of the older boy's penis. Very steadily, he began to suck, gradually working his way down until his cute little nose made contact with Whitney's pubis. The two teachers immediately began to undress. This, Alex realised, was going to be quite a show.

Michael was in ecstasy, his teen cock going right down the eleven-year old's throat. He recalled that it had taken him more than a year to learn how to do that. Van Kerkstraat, it seemed, had mastered it in just a few months.

"Oooh!" Michael groaned. "You'd better stop. Oooh! That was super!"

Somewhat reluctantly, Van Kerkstraat let him go. He stood up.

"Okay," Michael said, quickly removing the youngster's underpants. "My turn now!"

He was a little disappointed to find that Van Kerkstraat's prick was barely two and a half inches long and very slim, a little nozzle of foreskin protruding beyond the tip.

"Let's get onto the bed," he suggested.

Van Kerskstraat didn't hesitate for a moment. Within seconds, they were snuggled up together, kissing passionately, each boy's tongue exploring the other's mouth. As the kiss broke apart, Van Kerkstraat began to work his way down the teenager's body, sucking first one nipple then the other, before moving on to the older boy's innie belly button and finally devouring the lad's rampant cock.

Deciding it was time for him to take charge, Michael swung the younger boy around, bringing them into a sixty-nine. Despite the height difference, it worked well. In truth, Michael would have preferred something more substantial to suck, but he certainly wasn't complaining; the eleven-year old's penis as hard as polished steel.

Taking the tube of K-Y from the bedside table, Michael quickly coated his index finger. After gently spreading the younger boy's legs, he slipped his hand between them, his well-lubed finger homing in on the youngster's anus. With his heart thumping in his chest, he pushed it in, steadily working it deeper. Just as he'd expected, there was no protest. Holdsworth had been fucking the kid for weeks, Michael reasoned. Well, now it was his turn. He began to finger-fuck.

"Mmmmm!" Van Kerkstraat purred. "Are you going to put your thingy up my bum?"

"Yeah," Michael confirmed.

"Will it go right up?"

"Yeah, of course!"

"Wow, I've not taken one as long as yours!"

"You haven't seen Mr White's yet," Michael said, withdrawing his finger. "That's even longer, and thicker. Okay, get on all fours!"

Once again, the eleven-year old complied without hesitation, getting himself into a perfect Z-shape, his knees well forward, his bum pushed right back. Kneeling behind, Michael dived down, running his tongue along the younger boy's crack. Alighting on the lad's anus, he began to lick it insistently, the youngster's high-pitched squeaks spurring him on. Finally, he pushed it inside.

"Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!" Van Kerkstraat gurgled.

"When did you last take it up your bum?" Michael demanded.

"Yesterday. Holdsworth did me before we went to supper."

"Okay, get on your back!"

With Van Kerkstraat in position, Michael lifted the boy's legs, pushing them back so that the lad's knees were close to his shoulders. Grinning, the youngster placed his hands around the bottom of his thighs to hold himself in position.

"Does Holdsworth fuck you like this?" Michael asked, smearing K-Y over his hard prong.

"Sometimes, when we have a bed to use. We usually have to do it in the bogs or the music storeroom."

Michael shuffled in close, guiding his cock onto the youngster's anal ring. He pushed steadily. To his delight, after a couple of seconds the lad's sphincter muscle relaxed, allowing him to slide smoothly in.

"Ooooh!" Van Kerkstraat moaned.

It was the sound of pleasure, possibly accompanied by a little discomfort, but certainly no pain. Licking his lips, Michael thrust in deeper.

"Aaahhhhh!" the eleven-year old exhaled.

The expression on the youngster's face said it all. He wanted this. There was no question about it. Michael made one last, determined thrust,opening up previously uncharted depths of the eleven-year old's boy-tunnel. Finally, the lad was completely impaled, the teenager's pubic bone pressed tight against the younger boy's bottom.

"Uuugggghhh!" Van Kerkstraat groaned, as the older boy penetrated him even deeper than Mr Brown had managed.

For several seconds, they remained as they were. Finally, Michael felt the younger boy begin to relax.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yeah! Do it!"

Michael began to fuck the lad with long, steady thrusts, savouring the tight, velvety sheath that was gripping his cock. Gradually, the pace increased. Within a couple of minutes, he was pounding the youngster's bottom as though his life depended on it.

"Nng! Nng! Nng!" he growled.

"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" the eleven-year old squeaked back at him.

Without warning, Van Kerkstraat shuddered from head to toe, his lower legs flailing uncontrollably, the tingling in his little penis so intense the whole room disintegrated in a kaleidoscope of vivid colour. The sensation of the younger lad's anus spasming around his cock took Whitney right over the edge. Instinctively, he drove in as deep as he could, rope after rope of teen spunk spurting into the eleven-year old's bottom.

"Most impressive!" Alex said quietly, leaning across to his host.

"Very much so," Gordon agreed. "I'm sure he's never been fucked as hard as that. And he took it with little more than a murmur."

"From where I was sitting," Alex suggested, "it looked like he enjoyed every second of it."

"You won't be too rough with him, will you?"

"Don't worry; I won't do any more than I need to."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Michael wasn't sure how long it was before he pulled out. He'd given everything he had. He was so light-headed he hardly knew where he was. As he began to recover, he got off the bed, gingerly making his way to Mr Smith's armchair. He parked himself across the man's lap.

"You really put some effort into that," Gordon commented.

"Yes sir. He's really sexy, isn't he?"

"You could say that. And you gave him exactly what he needed."

"I'm sure he liked it, sir. He had a really wild dry-cum."

"You like it when that happens, don't you?"

"Yes sir. I came loads. By the time I'd finished, my head was spinning."

"You're just the same as Mr White was when he was your age. Let's take it easy for a while. There's no hurry."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex got onto the bed, wrapping an arm around Van Kerkstraat's shoulders.

"You did really well," he said appreciatively.

"D'you think so, sir? Whitney's not that much bigger than Mr Brown, just longer really."

"So did you enjoy it? It looked like you did."

"Yes, sir! It was super!" He paused for a moment. "Yours is bigger though, isn't it sir?"

"Yes, a bit."

"You're going to stretch my boy-hole, aren't you sir?"

"You've been listening to Mr Brown," Alex said, smiling. "That's what he calls it."

"I like calling it my boy-hole, sir. But you are going to do it, aren't you, sir?"

"Yes, that's the idea."

"Will it hurt?"

"It's bound to hurt when it goes in because I'm bigger than you're used to. But I'll be as gentle as I can, I promise. Once I'm inside you, you'll need to relax like you did with Whitney. If you can, you should enjoy it just as much."

"Thanks, sir. Holdsworth and Southcott say you make lots of spunk."

"Well, they should know. And it's all going to go up your cute little bottom!"

"Sir," Van Kerkstraat said, lowering his voice to little more than a whisper, "Holdsworth told me that after you'd done him the first time, the spunk started leaking out. He said Whitney licked it up."

"Oh, did he now?"

"Yes sir! Sir, will Whitney do that for me?"

"Oh," Alex whispered, nuzzling the youngster's ear. "I'm sure it can be arranged."

"Look, sir!" Van Kerkstraat urged. "Whitney's sucking Mr Smith's thingy!"

Twisting around, Alex took in the sight: Whitney kneeling on the floor, his mouth full of their host's penis, a little over seven inches long and not far off four inches in circumference. From the position he'd got to, it was obvious that the lad was taking it right down his throat.

"Hmmm!" he whispered right into the eleven-year old's ear. "Whitney gives super blow-jobs, a bit like you, I'd say."

"What d'you mean, sir?"

"Well, you certainly seemed to enjoy sucking Whitney's. And I know he liked it. I could tell. And you went right down on him. Some boys never learn to do that. You've learned in just a few months."

"So would you like me to suck yours, sir?"

"I think that would be very nice! Thank you!"

Alex rolled onto his back. A moment later, his penis was engulfed by Van Kerkstraat's sucking lips, the lad working his way down until he'd taken around three inches. But that was the limit, the youngster's small mouth defeated by the extra girth of Mr White's appendage.

Alex didn't mind in the least. The sensations the boy was giving him were a delight. And to add to his pleasure, he was watching a really pretty boy whose cute little mouth was full of his cock. How much more erotic could it get?

As he watched, he noticed Whitney stand up. Turning his back to Mr Smith, the teenager lowered himself onto the man's impressively large penis.

"Oooh!" Alex breathed, stroking Van Kerkstraat's hair. "Whitney's sitting on Mr Smith's cock."

Having quickly taken in the sight, the cute blond boy turned back to Mr White.

"You should see it when Southcott does that," he whispered. "I can't believe how much his boy-hole gets stretched." He paused for a moment. "That's going to happen to me soon, isn't it, sir?"

"Yes," Alex said gently. "Once you've got used to mine, you'll be ready for Mr Smith's."

In front of them, Mr Smith was thrusting his penis upwards into Whitney's bottom. On it went, one minute becoming two and two becoming five. At last, the man's breath began to shorten.

"Oh yes!" he gasped. "I'm going to cum right up your bottom!"

He pressed down on the teenager's thighs, holding the lad in place.

"Ughhh! Ughhh!" Ughhh!"

Finally, he relaxed.

"Hmmm!" Alex whispered in Van Kerkstraat's ear. "It's our turn now. Get on all fours for me, there's a good boy."

The eleven-year old quickly returned to the position he'd been in earlier. Within seconds, he felt Mr White licking his boy-hole.

"Ooohh, sir!" he gasped, the man's tongue pushing right into him.

"Mmmm!" Alex purred. "Your bottom's full of Whitney's spunk!"

He resumed his ministrations. After a minute or two, he pulled away. Having coated his fingers in KY, he thrust two of them in. As he expected, they youngster took them easily. He pulled them out, arranged three fingers into a triangle and carefully pushed them back in. The eleven-year old winced slightly and emitted a few quiet gasps. Alex smiled. Van Kerkstraat was tight, but his bottom possessed the same pliability that Jessop's had demonstrated a year earlier. This was going to be easy! After a few more exploratory thrusts, he allowed his fingers to slide out.

"Stand up!" he instructed.

He led the boy to the wicker chair where he'd been sitting earlier.

"Remember what to do," he said quietly. "When I try to enter, push out like you're having a crap."

"Yes, sir!

"Okay! Bend over. Rest your hands on the seat."

As the lad got into position, Alex rubbed K-Y over his penis. Taking a deep breath, he moved in behind, flexing his knees to line himself up on the youngster's rosebud. He pushed insistently. Suddenly, the eleven-year old's anal ring relented and he was in.

"Ooohhh, sir!" the boy gasped.

"Good boy!" Alex said soothingly, as he listened to the lad's long, deep breaths. "Try to relax. You can do it!"

He reached down, wrapping his fingers around the youngster's throbbing spike. Having determined that the boy hadn't lost his erection, he let it go. He'd give it more attention a little later. After maybe thirty seconds, the lad's breathing quietened down. Holding him around the thighs, Alex drew the boy onto him, steadily reaming his tight little fuck-tube. After a few seconds, he thrust over the youngster's sex-button.

"Oh, sir!" Van Kerkstraat squeaked, his penis twitching excitedly. "Have I got it all now?"

Alex glanced down. Well over an inch was still exposed. "Almost," he said reassuringly.

He continued to push, eliciting more squeaks and gasps from the sexy eleven-year old. Finally, he was there, his pubic hair squished up against the lad's buttocks.

"Oooohhh!" he purred. "You've got a lovely tight little bottom!"

Very slowly, Alex pulled back until little more than the head was left inside. After taking a deep breath, he set to his task. Not having cum for two days, he knew he wouldn't last long. And given Van Kerkstraat's wonderful combination of tightness, warmth and pliability, he wouldn't even need to fuck the boy that hard.

"Oh yes!" he breathed, thrusting steadily. "You are so tight!"

After no more than fifteen thrusts, his orgasm began to build. Reaching down, he took hold of the youngster's prick, expertly masturbating him.

"Oh! Oh sir!" Van Kerkstraat gasped, his penis pulsing wildly between the man's fingers.

Having passed the point of no return, Alex thrust in one last time. His cock jerked violently, prodigious quantities of semen flooding into the eleven-year old's rectum. After taking time to recover his composure, Alex carefully withdrew. He was glowing with satisfaction. Other than taking the lad's cherry, fucking a preteen boy didn't get any better than that.

Without waiting to be asked, Michael lifted himself off Mr Smith's penis. As his form-master moved out of the way, he knelt on the floor, eagerly licking up the steady stream of spunk that was running from Van Kerkstraat's boy-hole. After a couple of minutes, the younger lad's anus closed up and the flow stopped.

"Okay, you boys!" Mr Smith ordered. "Off to the bathroom!"

"Shall I give him a bath sir?" Michael asked.

"Yes, if he wants one."

As Van Kerkstraat stood up, Alex smiled broadly. Rather than just one lock of the boy's hair having escaped from the general order, unruly locks had sprung out all over the place, giving the lad the appearance of a very pretty street-urchin. As Oliver Twist he'd have been perfect.

Alex sank back into his chair, watching the boys exit the bedroom.

"You've done superbly there," he said warmly, turning to Mr Smith. "He's gorgeous, and so sexy!"

"Another one I picked out when he came for audition," Gordon said, smiling.

"You mean like Holdsworth?"

"Precisely. I knew right away."

"But not Southcott?"

"No, when he came for audition, I was concerned that he might not fit in. But he sang so beautifully, I couldn't turn him down. Anyway, you didn't seem to have much trouble getting into Van Kerkstraat's bottom."

"None at all. He's quite small, but he's very pliable. As long as he's well-prepared, he stretches quite easily."

"D'you think he'd be ready for mine?"

"Probably. You'll need to take your time. Work three fingers into him like I did. But he should be okay."

They began to get dressed.

"Tell me about Long," Gordon requested.

"Oh, he's quite different. He's very scrawny; there's no meat on him at all. Rather than being soft like Van Kerkstraat's, his bottom's really firm. I found it really difficult to stretch his ring sufficiently for him to take my cock. I did get it into him, but I'm not sure I should have. I might have done some damage."

"And that could have made things very awkward."

"Yes, I told Martin he'd have to get the lad much better prepared before I'd try it again. If all goes to plan, Whitney and I will be seeing them next Saturday. I'll let you know how we get on. Long's a horny little thing though. He had a dry-cum while Whitney was sucking and finger-fucking him, another when Whitney's cock went up his bottom, and a third one while I was doing him."

"It sounds like he's keen enough."

"Oh definitely! But I'm not going to rush it. You'll just have to be patient."

"And what's the latest on Bradshaw?"

"Oh, he's almost ready. I was thinking about two weeks tomorrow, if that's okay?"

"Excellent! I'll look forward to it."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was twenty minutes before the boys returned to the bedroom.

"So what have you two been up to?" Alex asked, grinning.

"After I'd been to the toilet, Whitney gave me a bath," Van Kerkstraat announced nonchalantly. "Then I sucked him off."

"I see your hair's all neat and tidy again," Alex continued.

"I leave a brush in there for him to use," Gordon explained. "I don't like him going back to school looking like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards."

Alex allowed himself a smile. Discretion was crucial. It didn't do to make things too obvious. Some people were aware of what went on, and they needed an excuse to look the other way.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex spent Saturday evening with Joanne, going out for a meal before heading to the cinema to see the new film The Singer Not the Song, starring Dirk Bogarde and John Mills. The relationship was still working well. Alex had been concerned that Joanne might want things to go further, but there had been no hint of it. The current situation seemed to suit them both.

On Sunday morning, after reading The Sunday Times, Alex completed his preparations for the coming week. After a light lunch, he drove to the Kings Head, where his protégé was waiting for him.

"Hello, sir!" Bradshaw greeted as he got into the car.

"Good to see you," Alex said warmly. "I thought you were outstanding yesterday. You ran the opposition ragged."

"Monk and Sanderson played really well too, sir."

"Yes, they did. The three of you worked together beautifully. At the end, I thought it was really sweet the way you walked off with your arm around Monk's shoulder."

"Oh, it's not like that, sir," Bradshaw said, grinning. "Monk's just a mate, a really good mate."

Alex smiled. He'd never thought it was anything more.

"Are we having visitors today, sir?"

"Yes, Mr Brown and Arrowsmith."

"Thanks, sir! I was hoping we'd see them again."

Having arrived at the flat, they spent half an hour solving quadratic equations by completing the square. Alex had just done the same topic with 3-Red, where even the most able boys had found it demanding. Although he didn't find it easy, Bradshaw, two years their junior and with far less experience, coped as well as any of them. Finally, the class was over and Alex set the boy an exercise to do.

"That's pretty hard, sir!" Bradshaw said, grinning. "I'll have to be really careful. It's so easy to make a mistake."

"Yes," Alex agreed. "I've just done this with my third-year class. They said exactly the same. I think it's one of the hardest things you have to do for O-level. Okay, let's go into the lounge for a few minutes while I put the kettle on."

Leaving Bradshaw sitting on the sofa, Alex headed into the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, the doorbell rang. Alex went to answer it. Having welcomed his visitors into the flat, he quickly ushered them into the lounge. Bradshaw and Arrowsmith greeted each other like long-lost brothers. Alex eyed them approvingly. He knew they'd be good for each other.

"Come into the kitchen," he said quietly to Mr Brown. "I'm just making a pot of tea."

He led the way, closing the door behind them.

"So how are things?" Martin enquired.

"Very good, thanks! Yesterday we had a wonderful time at Gordon's place. Van Kerkstraat is a delight. Absolutely gorgeous, and so sexy!"

"You didn't have any problem getting into him then?"

"None at all. His bottom's lovely and soft, just like Jessop's was when I first met him. He stretched very easily. There was no question of me needing to gag him."

"I guess he'll be getting Gordon's very shortly."

"Yes. As long as he prepares the lad properly, he shouldn't have a problem. So how are you getting on with Long?"

"Pretty well. I've done what you said. I've had him lying face-down five times since we got back. He's pretty well used to it now."

"Well keep it going. I'm looking forward to seeing him next Saturday."

"About today," Martin queried. "Is it still okay for me to have Bradshaw like that?"

"Definitely, and I'm going to give Arrowsmith the same message. I'd much rather I wasn't the first to have him in that position."

Taking their mugs of tea, they strolled back into the lounge. Bradshaw and Arrowsmith were sitting on the sofa engaged in animated conversation.

"We're having a cup of tea," Alex announced. "Would you boys like some?"

"Yes please, sir!" they chorused.

"Come on, then!" he said, smiling. "You know how you like it."

A minute later, Alex and the two boys returned from the kitchen. Bradshaw and Arrowsmith resumed their position on the sofa. As Mr Brown was in the armchair, Alex took one of the chairs next to his small dining table.

"Sir," Arrowmith asked, looking him straight in the eye. "Do you support nuclear disarmament?"

Alex glanced at Mr Brown, who didn't look at all pleased. "I support the principle of nuclear disarmament," he said calmly. "The world would be a safer place if all nuclear weapons were destroyed and no more were produced. There's no question about that."

"So do you think Britain should get rid of its nuclear weapons?" Arrowsmith persisted.

"You need to ask yourself what such a move would achieve." Alex responded.

"Well, if Britain gave a lead, other countries might follow us."

"That, I'm afraid is the triumph of hope over experience. I don't believe that Britain disposing of its nuclear weapons would have the slightest influence on what other countries decided to do."

"Well, that's what Bertrand Russell thinks, and he's one of the most intelligent men in the country."

"Oh, I don't dispute that," Alex answered carefully, "but that doesn't mean that he's right about this, and I don't think he is. In my view, giving up our nuclear deterrent would reduce our influence in the world and not achieve anything worthwhile."

"Chemical and biological weapons were banned," Arrowsmith countered.

"Yes, they were, but that ban was put in place in very different circumstances. You have to bear in mind that more than ninety-five per cent of nuclear weapons are held by the United States and the Soviet Union, and I can see no possibility of either side giving them up. It's called the balance of power. As long as both sides have them, neither side can afford to use them."

Arrowsmith was out of his depth and he knew it. He was visibly floundering. He'd asked the question to see if Mr White would answer it, rather than dismiss it the way the teachers at his school did. But Mr White had answered it in a way that he hadn't expected. He had no idea what to say next.

"Right, are we ready to make a move?" Alex asked, helping him out.

They made their way to the bedroom. Having removed his shoes, socks and sweater, Arrowsmith stood passively in front of his host, waiting for the man to undress him. Alex began by undoing the lad's tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

"Sir," Arrowsmith whispered. "Thanks for not making me look stupid."

"Oh, I wouldn't have wanted to do that," Alex said quietly. "These are difficult questions and there are no easy answers, so don't let anyone put you off asking. What I would encourage you to do is to read, but don't only read stuff you agree with. To be really well-informed, you need to understand all sides of an argument. And stand up for what you believe in. Don't worry if people disagree with you."

"Thanks, sir."

"And when you're with Bradshaw," Alex added, lowering his voice. "You can have him lying face-down if you want. Just be careful. He's not taken it in that position before."

"Yes, sir," Arrowsmith answered, clearly relishing the prospect.

Alex sat down in the armchair, quickly divesting the lad of his shorts and briefs. He licked his lips. With its smattering of short, dark hairs immediately above, Arrowsmith's stiff 4½-inch penis was close to his idea of perfection, and more than respectable for a boy who'd turned thirteen less than a week earlier.

Extending his tongue, Alex licked his way up the teenager's shaft from ball-sac to head. Finally, he took it into his mouth, working his way down until he was sucking it right down to the root. Sensing that the lad was getting close to orgasm, he carefully let it go.

"Okay, you know what to do," he said, getting to his feet.

Arrowsmith complied eagerly, undoing Mr White's fly-buttons and reaching inside to extract the man's cock. Having knelt down on the carpet, he closed his lips over it, sucking it steadily. Alex ran his fingers appreciatively through the teenager's unruly dark curls, delighted to see the lad so much more willing to pleasure him than he'd been the first time they'd met.

He glanced across the room. Mr White was also standing up, his penis in the kneeling Bradshaw's mouth.

"Okay Mr Brown," he announced. "If you're ready, we'll let these boys have some fun together."

Somewhat reluctantly, Martin eased his prick from between the younger boy's lips. He settled himself on the chair by the desk, watching the naked boys clamber onto the bed.

Sitting in his armchair, Alex was fascinated. Although the activities were much the same, this was a very different show from the one he'd witnessed the previous day. The foreplay between Whitney and Van Kerkstraat had been all about sex. But despite having met only twice, Bradshaw and Arrowsmith were friends who liked and respected each other, the contact between them gentler and more sensuous.

As the boys prepared for their final act, Bradshaw smeared K-Y over the thirteen-year old's penis.

"Could we try it a different way?" Arrowsmith asked.

"Okay," Bradshaw responded. "How d'you want to do it?"

"Lie on your tummy with your legs apart," Arrowsmith said, pulling a pillow into the middle of the bed, "so I can get on top of you."

Bradshaw got the idea in an instant. Finding it strangely exciting, he moved into position. Kneeling between the younger boy's legs, Arrowsmith carefully lowered himself, guiding his cock onto Bradshaw's anus. This was where he had to be careful, he reminded himself. But Bradshaw was used to taking Mr White's, wasn't he? So it shouldn't be too difficult.

Feeling the older boy's prick probing his boy-hole, Bradshaw tried to push out, but found that lying as he was, he simply couldn't do it. By this time, Arrowsmith was pushing even harder. Suddenly the teenager's penis went right into him. Bradshaw gritted his teeth, emitting a quiet gasp. It stung like hell, probably even worse than when Mr Faulkner had taken his cherry.

Sitting in his armchair, Alex smiled. It was typical Bradshaw. Other boys would have cried out. Not him; he was as tough as old boots. Licking his lips, Alex watched intently as Arrowsmith settled to his task, the thirteen-year old's cock pistoning in and out of Bradshaw's bottom.

Bradshaw was angry with himself. Had he known how painful the entry would be, he would never have agreed to let Arrowsmith fuck him like this. Worse still, the teenager was heavier than he was, rendering him completely helpless. But in a way that he found hard to comprehend, things began to change. Arrowsmith's warm, musky breath was flooding his nostrils, the lad's heart thumping against his spine, the thirteen-year old's prick repeatedly grazing his prostate. And all the while, his own penis was rubbing against the pillow.

Almost in spite of himself, each thrust of Arrowsmith's cock was making him more and more aroused, the tingling in his penis becoming almost unbearable. His orgasm hit him like an express train, fingers grabbing, legs flailing, bum-hole tightening, his joy-stick swelling and pulsing against the pillow. He'd barely finished when little jets of Arrowsmith's boy-cum spurted into his bottom.

And that was it. All movement stopped. Lying pinned to the bed, Bradshaw could hear Arrowsmith panting, the older boy's heart still pounding against his back. His brain was completely scrambled. Despite the stabbing pain when the teenager had penetrated him, the closeness and intensity of what had followed had been at a completely different level from anything he'd experienced previously. He didn't know what to think.

After a few seconds, Arrowsmith carefully withdrew.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," Bradshaw replied.

Getting off the bed, Arrowsmith made his way over to Mr White, leaving Mr Brown to take his place.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"Well done!" Martin cooed, snuggling up to the still prostate Bradshaw. "So how was that?"

"It really hurt when he stuck it up me, sir. But once he got going, it was . . . well, really exciting."

"Did you have a dry cum?"

"Yes sir."

"I thought so."

"Sir, why did it hurt so much at the beginning? When he did it before, it never hurt at all."

"Because your boy-hole doesn't open up properly when your lying stretched out like that, together with a lack of experience on Arrowsmith's part. I guess it must have come as quite a shock."

"Yes sir. I just wasn't expecting it to hurt like that."

"But you never made any fuss. Lots of boys would."

They moved into sensuous foreplay. There was no kissing, but they lovingly sucked and fondled each other. After ten minutes, it was time to bring matters to a conclusion.

"May I fuck you the way Arrowsmith did?" Martin asked quietly. "I promise I'll be gentler than he was. It'll still sting a bit at the start, but that's all."

Bradshaw paused. He knew he ought to say no, but he didn't want to. He liked Mr Brown, and after the initial shock, having Arrowsmith right on top of him had been wonderfully exciting. He took a deep breath.

"It's okay sir. I know what to expect now."

Rolling back into the position he'd been in earlier, he waited for Mr Brown to enter him.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With his arm wrapped around Arrowsmith's shoulder, Alex watched intently as Mr Brown pounded Bradshaw's cute little bottom.

"I suppose you'll want to fuck me like that, won't you sir?" the thirteen-year old asked, looking apprehensive.

"Not necessarily," Alex said. "I fucked you like that the first time you came here, but that was different. I think we understand each other a bit better now."

"Yes sir."

"So how would you like me to do it?"

"Could we do it standing up sir, with me bent over a chair?"

"Of course we can. I want to do it the way that feels best for you. You've earned that."

Arrowsmith lowered his voice. "You will take your time putting it in, won't you sir? I haven't taken it since the last time I was here. Mr Brown's been too busy with Long and Jessop."

Alex inhaled sharply, a smile spreading across his face. The lad, naturally tight, as slim boys almost invariably are, hadn't had his bottom penetrated for more than three weeks. This was going to be an even more exciting fuck than he'd expected.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he whispered reassuringly. "We can take all the time you want."