Date: Thu, 13 Dec 2012 11:45:57 +0000 From: Ivor Sukwell Subject: Two More Boys: First One This is the first in a series of three short stories, each complete in itself, but each linked to the others. For voracious Nifty readers, or for those interested enough to look back, there is also a link to the `A Boy' series. The content includes sex between under-age boys and an adult male, and if such content is not to your taste, or if you are precluded from reading such material for any reason, please take this as a warning not to continue. The characters are all fictional, though the laws of probability indicate that similar events and situations may well have occurred between persons unknown to the author. No boys were harmed in the writing of these stories. First One By Ivor Sukwell She placed her tea-cup in the saucer carefully, but with enough rattle to indicate that the words she would utter were of importance and not to be ignored or dismissed lightly. She was, I suppose, quite a personable female – in her mid-thirties, and, if women held any interest for you, more than reasonably attractive. She was also attempting to demonstrate, in the way women cannot help doing, that she was in charge of the situation and I was grateful that she did not feel the need to be more forceful with my best china. "I think it important that we understand each other perfectly. Do you not agree, Mr. Meadows?" She said this to her tea-cup, making it obvious that she preferred to look at it rather than at me. For my part, I kept my gaze on the framed print of Caravaggio's `Amor Vincit' that was hanging on the kitchen wall behind her head. A painting of a naked boy was, in my opinion, a better subject for my attention that a live, forceful, woman. "I am under no illusions that your offer of accommodation to William, Harry and myself has anything at all to do with a desire to assist us in our present predicament; still less to do with me and absolutely everything to do with a desire for William and Harry. I am correct, am I not, Mr. Meadows?" She raised her eyes from the Royal Worcester and forced me to drag my eyes from Caravaggio. She was, as we both knew, completely correct, but I was not going to give her the satisfaction of actually saying I wanted to fuck her boys. "William is, as you probably already know, barely fourteen, and Harry scarcely eleven; still, may I remind you, in primary school. I am sure I do not need to remind you of the consequences should your intentions towards them become known outside these walls." She did not. Both were prison sentences, Harry rather a long one. "I thought not," she said in response to my silence. "It is very much in your interest that such intentions are neither known nor suspected, and very much in my interest," she smiled as sweetly as an icicle, "That the boys and I have somewhere to live." I managed a nod of agreement; it was the most I could manage. "I work as you may or may not know, at Tesco's, and my hours mean I am frequently unable to be home when the boys need me, especially when Harry returns from school. You, I believe, will be able to be here when he comes back from school?" Again I nodded. "And, no doubt, delighted to be so and able to supervise him changing out of his school uniform." Another freezing smile accompanied her words. "William is in need of some firm control; he needs a man in his life and he has, I regret to say, had rather a lot of men attempting to fill that position, usually only for an hour or two. I shall rely on you to ensure that does not continue. Do I make myself clear?" She did, so I asked her if she would like more tea. "Why, thank you, Mr. Meadows, I believe I would," she smiled once more; another icicle formed in the kitchen sink. "I am so pleased we understand each other. As you are aware, I am not in a position to pay you for our accommodation; if I were then this situation would not have arisen; though, from my work, I will be able to contribute in kind with some food and household necessities. The boys, I accept, will cover any other, I believe an appropriate word is, `rent'." Once more I nodded. "Do we have an agreement?" she asked. "We do," I finally said something meaningful. She visibly relaxed, and actually slurped he second cup of tea. "Thank god for that," she smiled a real smile this time; "I don't think I could have kept that act up much longer. I'm not really a bitch, you know, but I don't know you well enough to have said what needed saying in any other way." "We don't know each other at all," I said, also relaxing a shade, "I don't even know your name. To be absolutely honest, I didn't even know the boys' names until you said them." She did raise an eyebrow at that revelation, so I told her the full story of how her eldest boy had been, in effect, given to me by my former bed-companion who was leaving for university and thought I needed someone to replace him. "How sweet of him," she smiled, "He must be a nice boy." "He is," I agreed, "I picked him up on a street corner when he was thirteen." "And you stayed together for five whole years? Perhaps you might be good for William and Harry." "I like boys," I admitted, "Boys because they are boys and not just because I like boys........in that way." "William and Harry?" she asked, not needing to detail her question. "From what I have seen, I think they are going to be a lot of fun; and not just in that way." "A lot of fun for you in that way as well," she sighed. "I have no illusions about my boys' inclinations, you know. I caught them fucking when William was eleven. I remember yelling, what the hell did they think they were doing, and Harry telling me with a huge smile that they were having fun. What does a mother do? I decided it would be pointless trying to stop them, so I tried to understand instead. I still don't understand why some men like boys instead of women; no offence, Mr. Meadows. More understandable, though, I suppose, than men liking men, but that's a woman talking." "For what it's worth, I think you made the right decision. Trying to prevent them being the boys they are could have soured things between you. But that's a man who likes boys talking." "I like you, Mr. Meadows. I know I shouldn't because you are going to sleep with my boys, but they gave up being virgins a long time ago and it's not as though you're going to seduce them; they'll be in your bed waiting for you every night if I know them." "Call me James," I said, "Mr. Meadows is a bit formal as we're going to be living together." "Sandra," she smiled at me; "And can I suggest that we go out together now and again? Make it look as though I'm living here because we are, well, sort of, together. All the boys at William's school know what he is like and it might help to reduce malicious talk." "That is an excellent idea," I agreed, and couldn't resist adding that it would also give the boys a bit of time together. "You're a boy at heart, aren't you," she said perceptively, "Just another boy." "Bit old to be a boy now," I shrugged. "But you think like one," she smiled, "Nice really. Now perhaps you should call the boys in," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "They've almost certainly been listening at the door anyway." She was right, they had been, and they hadn't even tried to get away and pretend they hadn't. "It's alright, then, Mum," the fair-haired elder boy chirped as they dashed in without me even getting out of my chair, "We can stay and James can fuck us?" "Yes," she said, "And fat chance I'd have of trying to stop you, wouldn't I." William dashed across the kitchen and gave his mother a huge hug. "Thanks, Mum, you're so cool." "You better be off to work soon, Mum," Harry said from the doorway, "We can stay here with James. We can stay all night now." "Can't you even pretend to be decent," his mother sighed. "Mum, " Harry whined. "You can come back with me and start getting your things together. William can stay and keep James company." "MUM," Harry whined at full whine volume, "That's not fair!" "Yes it is!" William asserted. "I'm the older, so it's only right I should get first go. You can have your turn later." "You've already had a go!" Harry protested. "Not officially," William insisted and I had to suppress a snigger. "Harry, come!" Sandra said firmly, "Leave the big boys to play. You'll no doubt have a chance to join in later." Harry pouted, pushing out his lower lip and making it look eminently kissable. "Just you make sure you save some for me," he called over his shoulder as his mother dragged him out, though whether he was speaking to me or his brother I wasn't sure. "I've never been fucked on a kitchen table," young William lisped at me, fluttering his eyelashes and wasting not a single second of time. His mother and brother had not even left the house and he was suggesting we get started! "Probably about the only place you haven't," I retorted, half-teasing and half not. "Not been done THAT much," William protested as he started removing his clothes; "Well, p'raps quite a bit," he conceded as he tossed his shirt over a chair back and tugged his jeans off to join it, "But never on a kitchen table. Honest." "Not sure if I want to know," I muttered, my concentration entirely on his skin as it was revealed. "Course you do," he chirped cheerfully as he pulled down and stepped out of his briefs and then stood facing me, one hand on his hip, the other arm by his side, one knee slightly bent – the classical boy-nude pose. The only difference from the classical boy-nude was that he was fully upright, his four and a bit inches pointing jauntily up and out at about forty-five degrees. "Men always want me to tell them all about what stuff I've done. They find it sexy." "And do you?" I asked as I copied him in clothes removal while he cleared a sufficient space on the kitchen table. "Tell them, or find it sexy?" he said as he put, thankfully carefully, the used Royal Worcester in the sink and moved the vase of flowers out of the way. "Either, both," I muttered in his ear, my hands now round his warm, slender, naked hips. "Course I tell them," he said as my hands wandered a bit, "It gets them really going an' that's well sexy." I didn't ask him if the last words referred to getting his men in a sexy mood or to my hands, one of which was now cupping his smooth balls, the other investigating the solidity of his cock. I pulled him back into me so my hardness was pushed against the small of his back and he wriggled against it. "Mmmmmm," he sighed as he moved his back against my prick, "Feels nice. Nice and big." "Like big cock, do you?" My voice was thick – naked teen boys seem to make it go like that for some reason! "Big cock, little cock; love cock. Ooohhh, that's well nice," he sort of gasped as I twiddled his foreskin. "Me too," I agreed, "Boy cock." He let me twiddle his foreskin for a bit – I had to pull enough up to grip properly, getting thumb and fingers just below ridge level and tugging up so his twiddled skin was tight across his helmet. I've made quite a few boys spunk that way; it takes a bit of time because the sensations build gradually, unlike in a normal wanking, but the slow, relentless build up always results in a big load. William, though, was a long way from being ready to want to spunk, so he only allowed me a minute or two of playing with him before he turned round in my arms, offered up his mouth and just had time to say, "Love being kissed an' all," before his lips glued themselves to mine. Naturally I felt him while we kissed, felt the warm hardness of his back and the pliable mounds of his bum, mounds he clenched and flexed as I squeezed them, making it clear to me that he enjoyed his bum being felt and squeezed and that when I wanted to do other things to his bum he would be happy to permit me. I moved him against the table and sat him on it and then pushed him backwards so his lower legs dangled off it, his feet not quite reaching the floor. "I'm going to taste you from knee to nose," I told him and started, as promised with a knee, his left knee. He giggled as I licked his knee, the tiny, faint beginnings of fuzz nowhere near enough to diminish his smoothness. "Make sure you don't miss anything," he giggled as I slowly worked my way up his thigh, starting on the outside and working my way round, across the smooth, taught skin of the front to the soft, sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. "I won't," I said, teasing him, "If you tell me all about you and Harry." "Told you men like boys to talk sexy," he sniggered, not the least bit abashed by my request. "What you wanna know?" "Everything." "Greedy." "I am, greedy for boyflesh," I said and bit him gently on the inside of his thigh, quite high up, but not high enough to touch his balls. "Ohhh," he sighed happily, "Do that to my balls!" "If you tell me." "Told you before, mum caught us fucking." "That's not where it started, though, is it," I pointed out, starting now on his right knee. "No, course not. Started playing with his cock long before that." "How long before?" I gave him another little bite, in the centre of his thigh, this time, slightly harder, enough to leave a sign that he had been bitten that would last a day or two. "Dunno, really, s'pose when I was nine or ten. We slept in the same bed, so I s'pose it was bound to happen some time." "And you helped it along?" "Course," he giggled, "Harry liked it an' all. He soon started sucking me an' I think I must have fucked him first time when I was ten. He loves being fucked." Harry was three years younger than William, so that meant Harry's bum had been introduced to cock when he was only seven, but William would still have only been tiny so the mechanics of it were well within the bounds of the possible and probably the painless. I went straight up to his balls when William had made his confession and he sighed with delight as I licked them and took them into my mouth, rolling them around and nibbling at his sac skin. "Gotta teach Harry to do that," William sighed, "It's fab!" "Harry fuck you as well?" I asked before making a meal of his nipples, having finished with his balls, ignored his cock and mouthed my way up his sides and stomach. "Course!" William snorted, as though the mere idea that his brother would not do such an obvious thing was beyond comprehension. "His cock's amazing for a kid his age." I'd had just the one look at Harry's equipment and that initial sighting was of something that did seem far longer than a boy his size and age would normally possess, long and very, very thin. I was going to get more than just a quick look at it later, so I didn't pursue the subject now, concentrating instead on making William squeal and writhe by eating his nipples and then surprising him, and definitely pleasing him, by introducing his armpits to a similar treatment. It was time now to lift his legs and have a go at his well-used bum. William needed only the slightest hint to swing his legs up and pull his knees down to his ears opening up his brown delight for me to observe as he twitched it, all clean and inviting. An invitation I could not resist and he did not want me to resist, and, after a decent period of visual admiration, I delved in with my mouth, savouring his hole with my tongue and lips and the delightful smoothness of his thighs with my hands. "Use butter," he sniggered when I'd tongued him, mouth-aching ages later, to a craving for cock-entry, "Be well kinky." I had to agree that it would indeed be well kinky, using butter on his hole from the dish that would later be used for bread and toast. I fingered butter deep inside him, returning that finger frequently to the butter dish for more; butter melts quickly in a boy's bum! "Don't need to do that," he told me as I went to open him properly with a second finger, "Push it in while I'm still tight." "Might hurt," I cautioned him. "Taken bigger than yours," he boasted and I believed him. Going into a loosened up boy of his age is still a tight fit, going into one who is still unopened is amazingly so. It seemed at first as though it would not be possible for my prick to go beyond the very tip, the blunt point of the helmet that is no thicker than a finger and goes in the first millimetre with ease; but what follows is thick, as helmet swells rapidly to its full girth as it nears the ridge. Surely if I pushed further it would be arse-splitting rape, but, even as I hesitated, he pushed back onto me and I felt the elastic of his ring stretching round me, gripping as tight as could be imagined, vice-like round my cock as his push forced me inside. "Ohhhh fuckin' yeeess!" he yelled as I went past the outer defences and on through his inner ring, my full length soon sheathed in the velvet of his bowels. He'd been fucked before of course, fucked time and time again, but he was still only fourteen and still tight, enterable but tight and he knew what to do when he had cock inside him. He gripped me with his arse, his ring a hot vice behind my ridge, no way was he letting me out now he had got me in. "Fuck me hard," he begged, "Fuck me bad, ream my hole you dirty old man. Fuck your boy so he knows he's been fucked." The filth that poured from his angelic lips did what it was intended to do, it drove me into fucking him harder than I usually fuck a boy. I like boys, I respect boys, I want my boys to experience bliss when I screw them; he wanted me to take him, dominate him, fuck him brutally, and he made me do it. "Get that fucking cock in deep," he yelled, "Pound my arse, fuck me harder, harder, harder!" With his slender, young teen legs pulled right back so his knees were beside his ears on the table, his arse up, my cock buried deep inside it, he was a picture of depravity itself, and when he opened his eyes to watch my cock reaming him, those eyes were full of burning lust. With his clothes on he was an image of the innocent, sweet schoolboy; naked, hole crammed with cock he was a throwback to the satyrs of Greek myth, and, like those ancient creatures, he was insatiable. I slammed my cock into him as deeply and as forcefully as I could – he grinned with lust; I forced it out, past his tight-gripping ring, and then drove it violently back in until my shaved groin slapped hard against his smooth, young arse cheeks and I did that not once, not twice, but time and time again and each time he yelled with lust and demanded more. "Got to stop," I panted, "Can't spunk in you; not using a condom." I shouldn't have said it, of course, I should just have pulled out and spunked over him, but say it I did. "No fuckin' way!" he yelled, gripping me as tightly as he could, "Spunk in me, spunk in me, make me your boy." And I did. I did because it was what I wanted to do, I wanted to feel my seed spurt from me, fill his insides and I stopped caring how wrong that was, how dangerous it might be. I no longer cared, I just needed to feel my sperm flow in him, make him truly mine. My cock jerked, throbbed and burst, sperm squirting deep inside him and he howled with joy at the feel of it, letting go of his legs so they crashed down onto my shoulders as I orgasmed. My cock came out of him, slimy with spent sperm, sperm that followed it out, oozing from his wide open hole and dripping onto the table. I eased away from him, gently lowering his legs to the table so he could lie, panting, recovering from probably the most violent fuck of my life. "Should not have done that," I muttered, "Should not have spunked in you." "Why not," he croaked, "I wanted you to." "You've been fucked by god knows how many men; it's not safe." He fixed me with a pitying stare, the sort of stare that adolescents give so well to that inferior species known as adults; "I'm a slut," he stated, "But not a stupid slut. That's the first time I've done it bareback, apart from with Harry, an' he can't spunk yet." "I will use a condom next time," I told him. "Too right you will," he agreed, "Told you, I am not stupid." "No," I accepted, "But you are one incredibly hot boy, and I am not going to be able to leave your body alone." "Fucking better not," he said with emphasis, before he smiled and added, "Apart from when you're doing Harry, of course." We were both still naked when Harry returned, the last drips of my spunk dribbling from William's almost closed hole while William's spunk was nestling comfortably in my stomach. isukwell@hotmail.co.uk