Date: Sat, 22 Dec 2012 17:39:46 +0000
From: Ivor Sukwell <isukwell@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Two More Boys 2: And Then the Other

This is the second 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.


And Then The Other
By Ivor Sukwell


"Had a good fuck, then?" Harry asked, correctly summing up the evidence,
his tone half sarcastic and half jealous.

"Magic!" William grinned, oblivious to his younger brother's tone, "He well
knows how to use his prick!"

"Lucky you," Harry snorted, "Big enough for you, was it?"

"Thick as fuck," William beamed, "Well fills your bum."

I wasn't sure if I should be pleased at the praise my organ was receiving,
or miffed because the boys seemed to be concerned with that and that alone;
I, as a person, was irrelevant, for them I seemed to be no more than a
walk-about cock.

"That takes some doing," Harry observed, "Number of pricks you've had up
you."

"Just cos you're jealous," William snided back, and I decided it was time
to pick up my clothes and leave them to it. I like boys, but squabbling
boys are best left alone.

I spent the afternoon working; what the boys did I don't know, squabbling
or fucking, who knows. Their mother called in and picked them up when she
finished work, but Harry returned, on his own, about an hour later,
complete with a note from his mother.

"James," it read, "Harry is complaining and carrying on that you have been
with his brother twice and with him not at all. If we are going to make a
go of living with you then, I'm afraid you will have to divide your
attention between the boys and not favour William because he is the
older. I'm sending Harry round to spend the night so you both understand
that he is equally important."

I stared at the letter in utter amazement. My previous boyfriend, the lad
who had, in effect, presented me with William and Harry as his replacements
when he went off to university, had been blessed with a mother who knew her
boy was being regularly buggered by me but had chosen to ignore that detail
as being the easiest way of dealing with it; this was going a whole way
further! These boys had a mother who was demanding they should receive
equal attention from my cock; 'you can't have one without the other' she
was in effect, telling me! Now, whilst it was an obvious bonus that there
were to be no maternal outbursts of outrage at her boys being bedded, there
was the practical problem of physical ability.

The rather frenetic fucking of fourteen year old William had left me
sexually sated and in no fit state to even contemplate a successful
mounting of his eleven year old brother. Added to that there was the fact
that boys of eleven had never before called to my cock, well, not since I
was twelve anyway; they flew below my boydar, no traces of sperm
evident. There had been occasional fantasies, of course there had, a wonder
just what it would be like to have a boy of around Harry's age coax out my
seed, and now, it seemed, that sometime before breakfast tomorrow, I would
find that out.

Unlike his brother, Harry did not demand instant copulation, instead he
walked past me into the lounge and dumped himself on the sofa, facing my
big flat-screen and wanted to know what films were on. I sat beside him on
the sofa - of course I did; I had no deep desire to fuck him, but he was a
boy, and even though he was only eleven he was fine for cuddling
purposes. He found something that involved everyday machinery turning into
mechanical monsters and conducting mechanistic mayhem that I found largely
beyond even the suspension of disbelief, but raised no complaint because he
had arranged himself on the sofa, his knees against my thigh, his head on
my shoulder and my arm around him and, only eleven or not, he felt fine to
me.

"You can play with my cock if you want," he said out of nowhere, his eyes
never leaving the screen and when an advert break came, he shuffled out of
his trackies and boxers, hopping back up onto the sofa and even closer to
me so I didn't even have to stretch a hand out to reach his boyhood. "Can't
spunk yet," he told me matter-of-factly, "So you can rub it as much as you
want."

He was, of course, completely and utterly smooth, and, as his brother had
intimated, far bigger than anyone would have suspected, given his age. It
wasn't ridiculous, just big for a boy of eleven. It was probably a fraction
shorter than William's not quite four and a half inches, but it was also
incredibly thin, a veritable panatela of a cock with loads and loads of
room for growth inside its long foreskin, and looked far bigger than it
actually was, partly because it had no growth of hair to disguise its
length, and partly because it was just simply more than one would expect on
a boy of his age. I guessed it had reached its impressive length because it
had been regularly seen to since he was seven, though that, was, of course,
just guesswork.

I fondled it for him and changed my mind about boys of eleven, well, this
one at least.

"Like it?" he asked.

"Guess," I smiled and stroked it some more.

"Good. Love having it played with. Suck it if you want," he offered, "I can
still see the telly over your head."

"Wouldn't want to interfere with you enjoying the film."

"Seen it before."

I went down, Harry arranging himself so my bobbing head did not obscure his
view, and took his super-thin inches into my mouth. Sated by William I
might have been, but boycock in need of sucking is an effective cure for
exhaustion.

He used my back as an armrest while he watched the film and I sucked his
cock and tasted his testicles. Sex for these brothers, perhaps Harry even
more so than William, was I realised, something that was normal, natural
and uncomplicated. Doing it was fun, so have fun; that's what boys do,
isn't it? Their mother's uncomplaining acceptance of her boys' inclinations
and activities undoubtedly helped and, as a result of her probably unique
attitude, the boys were horny, healthy and happy.

I stayed down there for the rest, which was most, of the film, orally
enjoying Harry's finger-thick, long-for-his-age cock, his smooth, tight,
undropped balls and his silky, slender, pre-adolescent thighs. As I enjoyed
his eleven year old rigidity and his more than ample foreskin I began to
re-assess my opinions about boys of his age. Perhaps they were, I was
coming to think, items to be enjoyed young rather than simply waiting for
them to age a bit! I was also starting to get seriously enamoured with
Harry's slimline cock and, although I still had no desire to fuck him, the
reverse was developing as a very interesting and attractive possibility.

I sat back up when the credits had finished rolling and Harry obligingly
adjusted his position so he could, once again, rest his head on my shoulder
and I could get a hand on his cock without stretching.

"Like that, don't you," Harry grinned cheerfully as I played with his
foreskin.

"Think you got an amazing cock."

"I reckon it's a bit longer than William's," he boasted, pushing his hips
forward to emphasise his length," But he says it's not; and even if it is,
his is a lot thicker. Mine's well skinny."

"Thin, yes," I agreed, holding it with finger and thumb for proper
observation, "But seriously long for a boy of your age."

"An' it'll get even longer, won't it, when I start growing. Thicker too, I
hope."

"Don't want it to get too much thicker," I half-whispered, thinking about
how it would feel inside me, "But it can get as long as it wants."

Harry giggled; he liked talking about his cock; that was obvious.

"But it's much too thin," he complained and slipped a hand up under my
shorts, fishing me out into the open for comparison. Little boy hands on a
tired cock are an instant cure for tired cock!

I watched his little hand go round me, then he tried with just thumb and
forefinger to encircle me and giggled as the result of that attempt was a
rapid expansion of the item he was holding, pushing his finger and thumb
tips further and further apart. He made a detailed comparison between his
and mine and sighed sadly.

"Wish mine was fat like yours."

"I'm glad it's not," I smiled. "You can have a fat one when you're a man,
but keep it thin for me all the time you're a boy, please."

He giggled unrestrainedly, and, between giggles, asked how old he would
have to be in order to be no longer a boy.

"Depends," I stroked one of his silky thighs, "If these stay nice and
smooth, I reckon you might still get away with being a boy when you're as
old as eighteen."

"That's well old!" he gasped, "I gotta have a skinny cock till I'm that
old?"

"Hope so," I grinned; I had plans for that cock and those plans would work
when he was eighteen, maybe even better than the eleven he now was!

"Oh, well," he shrugged, "Long as you'll still wanna do stuff to it, I'll
tell it to stay thin."

Our laughter brought our faces closer together, and that meant our mouths
were closer together, so I decided to find out what it was like to kiss an
eleven year old boy.

Kissing a boy is an activity I thoroughly enjoy, but I had not expected
that tongue-dancing with Harry would be such an erotically rewarding
experience. I don't know what I had expected it to be like, I suppose I
thought that, being only eleven, he wouldn't have much idea of what to do
and that there would be some similarities to kissing a wet, unresponsive,
cabbage. How wrong is it possible to be?

Harry's lips were already parted by the time mine reached them and he
avidly sucked and nibbled at my bottom lip, just to let me know he had more
than the merest idea of what to do. When he finished with that, he worked
his lips against mine and thrust his little tongue deep as it would go into
my mouth, searching all around for any flavours he might be able to track
down, the predominant one probably being the whisky and water I had
consumed before he had arrived, mixed with any taste his cock had left
behind.

Whatever he found, he seemed to like it because he didn't stop for quite
some time, and, to be fair, I didn't particularly want him to. My hands
were now under his shirt, exploring every detail of his small body, not a
spare micro-metre of flesh, just warm, satin skin over his bones. When he
did finally pause it was just to get that shirt off so I could feel him
even better, and to announce, with a lascivious grin,

"Love snoggin', let's do it some more." And his mouth was back, pressing
against mine, lips parted, tongue probing. This was nothing at all like a
wet, unresponsive, cabbage.

"Guess you get a lot of practice with William," I ventured when round two
ended.

"Yeh, every night," he grinned cheerfully, "Won't let him fuck me unless
he's kissed me proper first."

"Sensible condition," I agreed, thinking that I doubted if William found it
an unpleasant duty to have to perform.

Having got started on my first eleven year old I could now see no reason
not to continue, and since his cock, balls and mouth had tasted so good, I
had a go at seeing if I could sample the rest of him. Harry had no
objections, finding, as so many boys do when it happens for the first time,
it at the beginning odd and then very nice indeed when their armpits are
kissed, licked and eaten.

"Never had that done before," he remarked as I slurped away under there,
"Like it though."

"What about your nipples?" I asked between goes at his shoulders and
throat.

"William pinches them sometimes and it feels well odd," Harry told me and
then, for a while, was unable to say anything else - he was too busy
gasping and writhing as I licked and nibbled his tiny brown nubs.

"Oh, wow," he breathed with delight, "That goes all the way down to your
toes and gives real funny feelings in your cock."

"Hope you've got a clean bum," I think the words came out clearly, though
by now my voice was quite thick with lust - lust for an eleven year old,
for fuck's sake!

"Course," Harry snorted, "Always wash it well cos I never know when William
might be feeling extra horny."

I flipped his small body over, dragged him onto his knees, shoved his head
down between them so his tiny bum was in the air, and pulled his little
cheeks apart. Harry got the idea straight away and moved his knees a bit so
his hole was open to the air, and a very nice little hole it was, all
pinky-brown and winking at me.

"You gonna fuck me now?" he asked and then gave a gasping squeal as I
answered him with my tongue.

I knew I really should not be eating out an eleven year old, but, hell, I
shouldn't have done any of those other things to him either and I was not
stopping now. Boy bum is delicious, now I found out that little boy bum is
delicious plus! Well, this one was, anyway, but then it was a little boy
bum that had been acquainted with cock for a good three years or so and
knew exactly what to do with things that wanted to go inside it. He shoved
that little bum back onto me as hard as he could, trying vainly to cram
more and more tongue up into him and I obliged, trying, equally vainly
because there is only so much tongue one can give, to get it in as far as I
could possibly poke it.

Eventually, naturally, I got mouth-ache and had to stop eating him so
voraciously and settled instead for some gentle licking.

"That was magic," Harry announced when even the licking had to stop,
"William's never done nothing like that to me."

"Something you should get him to try," I suggested, ignoring his bad
grammar and wondering if my mouth could manage another meal of his cock and
balls.

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "You gonna fuck me now?"

"No," I told him, and when he started whining with disappointment I let him
know his immediate future. "You are going to show me if you're any good at
sucking cock."

"I am!" he declared with enthusiasm and with an eleven year old display of
agility he flipped himself around so his face was against my groin.

"Perhaps I should get my shorts off first," I grinned, and then lifted
myself so Harry could heave them off for me.

"That's fucking huge," he breathed in admiration when he got a close up of
my trying-to-be-very-hard-again cock.

"You've seen bigger," I reminded him, "The last one I saw your mouth round
was a good inch longer than mine."

"No-where near as thick, though," Harry pointed out, "But," he gave me a
beaming smile, "I'll do me best."

And do his best he did! And a very good best it was; I was amazed by the
amount of me he managed to get in. He did have quite a wide mouth, a good,
cock-sucking mouth as well as an exceptionally talented kissing mouth, but
even so, getting more than half of my thick, six inches in was a
considerable achievement. Harry loved cock, of that there could be no
doubt. He sucked me, he nibbled me, he gently, oh, so amazingly gently,
scraped his teeth over my ridge. He took it out from his mouth and pressed
it against his cheeks, wiped the saliva-wet length all over his face and
put it back in again; he didn't so much suck it as adore it.

Looking at an eleven year old's fingers around your cock is erotic in the
extreme; watching that same eleven year old suck you off goes way, way
beyond that! If it hadn't been for the fact that his older brother had
taken my load up inside him only three or four hours before and I do not
reload as quickly as a teenager, I would have filled Harry's mouth with
sperm from the sight of what he was doing as much as from the feel of
it. As it was he was getting me close!

"Better stop," I muttered.

He came off long enough to pout; "Why? I don't mind you spunking in my
mouth. I like it."

"Because I don't want to be totally knackered when you fuck me."

"Fuck you?" His voice squeaked an almost girlish squeak.

"Fuck me," I repeated, "I want that long, thin, cock of yours as deep in me
as you can get it."

"Oh, yes!" Harry whooped, "I'm gonna get to fuck you! I'm gonna fuck a man!
William's never done that! Oh, yes!" He carolled with delight; "When? Now?
Here? He's gonna be so jealous! Can we do it now, straight away?  Can't
wait to tell him I've fucked you!" Harry was bouncing up and down on the
sofa in his enthusiasm and that long, super-thin, cock of his was bouncing
up and down as well, slapping against his smooth, flat stomach. I wanted it
in me, probably even more than Harry now wanted to stick it into me.

"I'm ready if you are," I encouraged him, as if he needed any
encouragement, "Bit extra kinky, do it here in the lounge, I reckon."

"Yeh!" Harry agreed loudly, "You bummed William on the kitchen table, an'
I'm gonna bum you on the sofa. Oh, yeh!

"Have to get some lube," I slowed his eagerness a tiny shade, but only a
tiny bit.

"What you use on William?" he demanded, "Where you put it?"

"Butter," I sniggered, "And it's still in the kitchen, of course."

That was enough for Harry; he dashed out to the kitchen and returned with
the butter dish, grinned at me, tested it with a finger, finding it to be
the spreadable stuff, and, with another grin, a majorly wicked one this
time, simply stuck his cock straight into it.

"Come on, then," he urged, pointing his butter coated cock at me, "Wanna do
it now!"

I draped myself over an arm of the sofa, which put my hole at about the
right height for Harry to plunder it standing up, and, with no messing, he
went straight for it. No buttering up of my hole first, and, to be fair, it
didn't need any. Harry's thin prick was smothered in butter and I hardly
even noticed it going in.

Not quite true, of course, I certainly noticed his entry, but there was no
hint of discomfort as his greased up eleven year old boy-probe slipped
inside, accompanied by a great, whooping, "Yeeeaahhhh," from Harry as he
went home up to the root.

His little hands grabbed my hips and he went straight into overdrive, no
steady working his way through the fuck-gears, directly into top and pound
away for all he was worth.

I loved it!

I really enjoy being fucked by boys; yes, I like fucking them as well, just
as I enjoy sucking them and kissing them and all those other things one
does with boys, but having a teenage lad on me and in me tops the lot. Now
I had a boy who wasn't even a teenager yet doing his thing to my hole with
all the carefree exuberance that a boy of eleven exhibits when he is having
fun.

His little hands gripped tight, his finger tips digging in as he slammed
his little self home time and time again, his smooth groin slapping hard
against my cheeks as he buggered me with boyish enthusiasm. There was no
question, of course, of a spunking bringing an end to his time-and-time-
again thrusts, and even when he yelped and shuddered as a dry orgasm ripped
through him, he hardly paused, frantically trying to pound another out.

I pushed him away from me, his rigidity popping out accompanied by a moan
of displeasure from him, but I did that only so I could re-position myself,
down full-length this time, so he could lie on me and I could enjoy the
feel of his little body on me as he shoved himself back in and went to work
again.

He stopped humping eventually from sheer exhaustion - enthusiastic fucking
is a tiring activity even for an eleven year old - but he stayed on me, his
thin prick still very hard inside me, as he gasped in air, doing his best
to recharge his batteries so he could start all over again.

He may not have finished, but I had, at least for now; he was staying the
night and I knew he'd be in me again well before morning.

"You had enough?" he asked, disappointment clear in his treble voice.

"For now," I muttered. Thin and not over-long he might be, but he had given
me a very serious buggering.

"Shall I suck you off now, then?" he half asked, half implored, and that
was something I was not going to deny him, the memory of his earlier
gobbling still very vivid in my mind.

"Go for it," I agreed, rolling him off and turning over so he could get at
me.

"And no stopping me this time," he told me, "I love to swallow."

So I was going to have these two boys living with me; fourteen year old
William who had got me to fuck him on the kitchen table, and his eleven
year old brother, Harry, who had fucked me with blissful abandon and was
now going to suck my spunk out: I hoped I was going to be able to cope!


isukwell@hotmail.co.uk