By Pink Panther

Let's start with the usual reminder. If you're not meant to be reading this stuff, you probably shouldn't. In any event, neither Nifty nor I can be held responsible for any unfortunate consequence that might arise from you reading this story.

This story includes sexual activity involving adult men and underage boys. If this is not the sort of thing you want to read, I wonder how you even got here. Please leave this page now.

And please keep the feedback coming, even if it's only a few words. Just knowing that there are guys out there reading and appreciating what I've written is a real buzz. Please send your comments to and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Finally, please do not forget the donations, which are essential of we are to keep Nifty as a free site. So if you have not donated recently, please go to the home page, click the "Donate" button and give whatever you can afford.


Alex picked up the phone and dialled Gordon's number.

"Good evening!" the older man said. "Prompt as always. So how did you get on?"

"Very well, thank you," Alex responded. "What about you?"

"Oh, I took Southcott to visit one of my other friends. The boys know him as Mr Green. Southcott did what was asked of him and found it all very enjoyable, which was good. But Mr Green is quite modestly endowed, not much bigger than Martin. I'd introduce you, but it would be too far for you to go. So tell me about your afternoon."

"Well, you didn't mention how young Martin looks. I teach boys who look older than he does."

"Yes, I didn't want to say anything. I thought I'd let you find out for yourself."

"He must have been quite exceptional when he was Whitney's age."

"I was still at university at the time, so I had no first-hand experience, but I've seen pictures of him in his school uniform. He was the prettiest boy I've ever seen."

"He told me that when he went to Public School, lots of the older boys were after him."

"Inevitable with looks like his. Anyway, how did you and Whitney get on?"

"Oh, it could hardly have gone better. We're both keen to meet King again. He's gorgeous, and beautifully tight. He and Whitney got on like a house on fire. We both like Martin too. Whitney loved riding his cock and fucking King's mouth at the same time."

"While you were pounding King's bottom, no doubt."

"How did you guess? Well anyway, Whitney and I were both keen on a repeat performance, but Martin asked us to go to their place to meet Jessop, his younger boy. He wants him to go with me before he sees you again."

"That's understandable. Martin gets carried away sometimes. He was far too quick bringing Jessop to see me. The boy simply wasn't ready. A couple of years ago he did the same with King. I've been with the lad several times since. I don't think he's ever really come to terms with it."

"I got that impression. He was very wary about taking mine to start with, but he relaxed into it really well once I got going. And when he and Whitney came back from the bathroom, he was as bright as a button. He said his bottom was a bit sore, but nothing to worry about."

"So when are you visiting Martin?"

"Next Saturday."

"Good! Well, I hope you can work your magic on Jessop. He's delightful, very eager to please. It's just a shame he wasn't ready for me."

"I'll do my best."

"And if you succeed, you'll have to come over here again. I'll introduce you to Southcott. You'll like him. He's a real character."

"So have you fucked him yet?"

"No, I'm concerned that it's still too big a step from what he's used to. And there's no rush. Holdsworth still keeps me very happy."

"You're very fortunate. Well, I'd better go. I'll call you at the same time next week."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Monday afternoon. First Year Games had just finished. As usual, Richard Needham was patrolling the changing rooms and showers, ostensibly to ensure that all the boys took a shower and behaved themselves while doing so. In reality, he liked to see the boys naked to admire their smooth bodies and cute boy-parts.

He'd never actually done anything, and was certain he never would. He was married with two sons of his own, both good students and talented all-round sportsmen. He was very proud of both of them. He often saw them naked while getting changed at the sports club or the swimming pool, but that was as far as he'd allowed things to go. He wouldn't have dreamt of doing anything sexual with either of them.

He considered his older boy, who would turn thirteen in early April, to be as fine a specimen of boyhood as he was likely to see. Although he hadn't caught him in the act, and didn't want to, he'd found evidence that the lad had begun masturbating.

His younger son, who'd had his eleventh birthday shortly before Christmas, was not far behind. The boys were very close and did everything together. They were also highly competitive, so where the older one led, the younger would soon follow. They would begin messing about. It was inevitable. Mr Needham found it fascinating to speculate how far things might go.

Boys in the early stages of puberty, like his older son, held a particular attraction for him. In the Second Year there were a good number of them. Among the First Years, there were only a few. The most outstanding example was Downing, who played in goal for the under-12 football team. In Mr Needham's opinion, he was everything a boy should be.

On a couple of occasions, the lad had got the beginnings of an erection as he towelled himself off after taking a shower. Embarrassed, he'd hurried back to the changing room and pulled on his underpants before he was properly dry.

In complete contrast was Whitney. Despite the boy's athletic-looking physique, he was useless at games, disliked having to take part, and did as little as he could get away with, though none of these deficiencies made him any less attractive to look at.

Mr Needham strode into the shower area and looked around. Whitney had just emerged and was towelling down. He bent down to dry his feet. The games master's eyes widened. The boy's anus was clearly visible, the area around it looking chafed and sore.

Although he had no first hand experience, he'd seen it once before and knew what it meant. Whitney was taking it up the bum. The thought made his cock stiffen. In a way, it wasn't a surprise. Among several hundred boys there were bound to be a few, and Whitney, with his all too obvious dislike of boyish pursuits, was as good a candidate as anyone. He probably enjoyed it. There was no evidence that he didn't.

The question of who was responsible was an altogether different one. An adult or an older boy? There was no way of knowing. The idea that one of his colleagues might be involved never crossed his mind.

Mr Needham would have loved to stick his cock into Whitney's bum and fuck him till he shot his spunk into the soft boy's bowels. It would be easy enough to arrange. He'd summon the lad to his office to punish him for his lack of effort. He'd bend him over the desk and give him three or four strokes of the cane. With his bottom still stinging, the games master would pull down his shorts and underpants and give him a good, hard fucking.

Only it wasn't going to happen. At the age of thirty-six and with thirteen years successful teaching behind him, he had far too much to lose. Right from the start, his motto had been "Look, but don't touch," and that was how things were going to stay.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex arrived at the Assembly Rooms and followed the signs to the main hall. The choral society was preparing for a rehearsal. There were already about ten men there, and roughly twice as many women. A tall, distinguished looking gentleman whom he judged to be around fifty came to greet him.

"Alex Faulkner?" the man enquired. "I'm Robert Thorne. We spoke on the phone."

"Pleased to meet you," Alex responded, taking the chorus master's extended hand.

"We usually audition new members," Mr Thorne told him, "but in your case there was no need. You should fit right in."

A few minutes later, he called the choir to order.

"This is Alex Faulkner," he announced. "He's recently moved to the area to teach at the boys' grammar school. He'll be joining the basses. I'm sure you'll make him welcome."

Alex took his place, keenly aware of the admiring glances he was getting from some of the women. That might prove useful, he speculated, as long as he didn't let things go too far. They began rehearsing Verdi's Requiem. Alex had sung it before, once while he was at school and more recently while at university. Although he was somewhat out of practice, it soon came back to him. Two hours later, the rehearsal was at an end.

"So what's your background?" the man sitting next to him asked, "musically speaking, that is."

Alex briefly outlined his singing career.

"Ah!" the man said, smiling. "That's how you got in without an audition. I could tell you knew what you were doing. Have you sung this before?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed. "I've done it a couple of times."

"Excellent!" the man said. "It's good to have you onboard. We need some new blood."

"We could have done with you before Christmas," another man commented.

"Sorry, but I was too busy getting settled in at school," Alex explained, "making sure I was on top of the job. If you're not on top of the boys, they'll be on top of you. I wasn't going to let that happen."

"Hmmm! Boys these days can be a real handful," the second man observed. "So what d'you teach?"

"Mathematics," Alex told him.

"Oh," the man replied. "I thought it would have been music."

"I've not done music seriously since I was at prep school," Alex said, surprised to find himself the centre of attention. "Back then, I tried learning piano and recorder, but my heart was never really in it. So when I got a mathematics scholarship to go to public school, that was it."

"But you kept singing," one of the younger women said, eyeing him up and down.

"Oh, yes," Alex confirmed. "I love to sing. I always have."

A few minutes later he was on his way home, more than happy with the way things had gone. He'd enjoyed both the music and the company. And if any of the younger women showed an interest, he'd be the perfect gentleman.

But it was odd, he reflected, the way he kept his life in two almost completely separate compartments. In one compartment lived his public self, Cambridge graduate, grammar school teacher and now a member of the local choral society. To all outward appearances he was the epitomé of respectability. But in the other compartment he kept his private self, the one that just four days earlier had taken part in an orgy with two twelve-year old boys.

At present, Whitney was the only point of intersection between the first compartment and the second, which was fine because the boy knew exactly how the game had to be played. As time went on, there would be others, and when that happened, the danger would increase. But he wasn't worried. Taking risks was an essential part of the game. The key was how well you managed them. Up to this point, he'd done it well, and was confident that he'd continue to do so in the future.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With the school reports having gone out the previous Friday, Alex had noticed an improvement in the attitude of some of his less enthusiastic pupils, especially Laws and Armstrong, two of the 3-Blue rebels. It wasn't that they had suddenly developed a taste for hard work, but they were cooperating and doing more than enough to keep themselves out of trouble.

He'd hoped that with Parker now isolated, his problems with 3-Blue would have been over, but that was far from the case. Parker had always been the leader of the rebels. Having been deprived of his cohorts, his attitude had deteriorated from subtle defiance to outright hostility.

This, Alex recognised, would be a battle of wills, and it was one he was going to win. With his physique and his experience on the rugby field, he knew that Parker didn't present any sort of physical challenge. So forget an inch; he wasn't going to give the lad a millimetre.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Michael sat somewhat nervously as Mr Faulkner's car purred along the road. They were going to visit Mr Brown at the school where he taught. If another meeting with King had been their objective, he'd have been excited. But it wasn't. They'd be meeting ten-year old Jessop. As he'd never been particularly drawn to boys younger than himself, he found it hard to know what to expect.

But there was plenty to look forward to, he told himself. He'd get to fuck Jessop. That was a promise. In addition, he'd be fucked by Mr Brown and he'd be able to watch Mr Faulkner fucking Jessop. Even so, he had nagging doubts. All they had was Mr Smith's word was that Jessop was very nice looking, very sexy and that they'd like him. But what would happen if he was quiet and diffident? They might not get on. It could make things very awkward.

The car drove in through a gate and stopped just inside. Next to the gate was a small two-storey house. They got out and walked up to the front door. Alex rang the bell. Moments later, Mr Brown appeared, smiling.

"Good to see you both," he said warmly. "Come in! Jessop's here already, raring to go, as always."

He led the way upstairs.

"Mr Harding," he explained, "who lives in the downstairs flat, is never here at weekends, so we can do as we like."

They entered a comfortable looking lounge. Alex licked his lips, admiring the boy who was sitting on the sofa. Around four feet six and slightly built, with silky chestnut brown hair, hazel eyes and near-perfect features, he looked every bit as delightful as Mr Smith had promised.

"Good afternoon, sir," the boy said, rising to his feet. "I'm Jessop. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you, too," Alex said, accepting the proffered handshake. "I'm Mr White and this is Whitney."

"Good to meet you!" Jessop said, turning to the older boy, his face breaking into a beautiful smile.

Alex was impressed. As well as his stunning looks, Jessop oozed charm and confidence. This promised to be quite an afternoon. But he mustn't get carried away, he reminded himself. The lad wasn't used to taking cocks as big as his. He would need to be careful.

There were no cups of tea or general chat. Time was limited and they all wanted to make the most of it. Michael stood in front of Mr Brown, who was sitting in the armchair. He'd loved being undressed by the young choirmaster when they'd met the previous week, and this second performance did not disappoint. The man's touch was perfect, making his penis throb in his underpants even before his shorts were removed.

Alex sat on the sofa. With Jessop standing in front of him, he set to work, gently stroking the boy's thighs before standing up to help him to remove his clothes. There was no rushing. It was all measured and sensuous. Even so, in barely two minutes, Jessop was down to his underpants. Despite the boy's slight build, Jessop had a nicely rounded bottom, Alex noted.

Resuming his seat, he ran his hands up inside Jessop's underwear and fondled his soft, pliable buttocks. As long as he was properly prepared, the boy would be the most wonderful fuck. Removing his hands from inside the lad's underpants, he carefully skinned them down his legs and allowed him to step out of them.

Right in front of his face was Jessop's steel-hard penis, a smidgen under three inches long, slim and uncut, a little nozzle of foreskin projecting beyond the tip. He leaned forward and took it into his mouth, sucking it hungrily, his tongue flicking out to slash at the boy's small, firm balls. Jessop stroked Mr White's hair, urging him to continue.

After a minute or so, Alex let him go.

"Your turn now!" he whispered.

The ever-confident Jessop didn't hesitate, kneeling down to undo Mr White's fly buttons. Reaching inside, he took out the man's cock.

"You've got a big thingy, haven't you sir?" he asked, holding it around the base.

"Big enough," Alex admitted.

"Are you going to stick it in my boy-hole?" Jessop continued.

"Yes, definitely," Alex told him.

"Mr Smith's got a big one," Jessop said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I took it last term. It was very painful when it went in. Will yours be like that?"

"It shouldn't be," Alex assured him. "It's bound to hurt a bit because it's bigger than you're used to. But once I'm in there, I'm going to make you feel really good. That's a promise."

"Okay," Jessop answered, smiling again. "That's pretty much what King told me."

After licking his lips, he took Mr White's cock into his mouth. Alex was in ecstasy, marvelling that a slightly built ten-year old could suck his penis as beautifully as Jessop was doing. Michael, meanwhile was kneeling in front of the armchair, performing similar wonders on their host.

"Shall we let these boys get to know each other?" Mr Brown asked.

"In here?" Alex queried.

"Yes," Mr Brown said. "The bedroom's too cramped. They can use the floor."

Moments later the boys snuggled up on the carpet, their dicks grinding together. Their teachers sat on the sofa, watching intently.

"Here, make yourselves a bit more comfortable," Mr Brown said, handing them a couple of scatter cushions.

"Your thingy looks just like King's," Jessop said, grinning at Whitney.

"Yeah," Michael confirmed. "He said we've got identical twins." He paused for a moment. His doubts had vanished. Whatever he'd imagined the young chorister to be, Jessop was not it. Although he looked and sounded like a ten-year old, the boy's self-confidence was simply breath-taking.

"I don't suppose you kiss, do you?" Michael asked.

"Not really," Jessop answered. "D'you know Maitland? He tried kissing me without even asking, so I told him to stop. D'you like it then?"

"I love it. I wondered if you'd like to try it."

"You'll stop if I don't like it, won't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Okay, let's try it."

"Open your mouth then."

Michael moved his lips onto Jessop's, pushing his tongue into the ten-year old's mouth. At first, Jessop felt uneasy, apprehensive. But suddenly, well, he couldn't describe how it felt, except that he wanted more of it. Within seconds the boys were kissing passionately, their tongues engaged in an intense wrestling match.

"He's kissing like he was born to it," Alex commented, grinning.

Mr Brown smiled but didn't answer. He'd never liked it when older boys at school had kissed him. It invariably meant that they were going to fuck him, whether he wanted them to or not.

Almost seamlessly, the boys moved into a sixty-nine, the intensity gradually building. Feeling himself getting close, Michael switched back again.

"I love your thingy!" Jessop said, his eyes sparkling. "You are going to fuck me, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course!" Michael answered, licking Jessop's ear.

"King says you wanted to fuck him, only Mr White told you to do it the other way round."

"Yeah, but next time we meet it'll be my turn."

"So you like him then?"

"Yeah! You like him, don't you?"

"Oh yes. Come on then! We'd better get you ready."

Mr Brown handed him a tube of K-Y. After squeezing some onto his fingers, Jessop carefully smeared it over Whitney's cock. Getting onto his knees, he shuffled across to the armchair, bending over it so that his head and chest were resting on the seat.

Michael moved in behind, his knees between Jessop's, his cock homing in on the ten-year old's anus. With one thrust he was in. It was the ultimate thrill. Jessop's bum-hole was so soft but so tight. It was hard to understand how such a thing was possible.

"Oh yes!" Jessop gasped. "Now do it! Fuck your spunk into my boy-hole!"

Michael didn't need to be asked twice. He set to his task, driven on by sheer animal passion. Instinctively, he reached around Jessop's right thigh, his fingers taking hold of the younger boy's throbbing penis.

"Ohh!" Jessop groaned. "Oh fuck!"

He bucked violently, his bum tightening sharply around Whitney's cock, his penis swelling and pulsing in the older boy's hand. Within seconds, Michael was there too, the whole room seeming to shake around him.

"Oh yes!" he moaned. "I'm going to cum!"

Gripping Jessop around the thighs, he held on tight as spunk surged through his cock and spurted into the ten-year old's rectum. He was so light-headed he barely knew where he was. Finally, the fog began to clear. He was triumphant. Fucking Holdsworth had been good. He'd definitely do it again if he had the chance. But this had been even better. A few seconds later he carefully pulled out, his cock as sensitive as it had ever been.

Alex moved off the sofa, allowing Whitney to replace him. Mr Brown wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he whispered, "shooting your spunk into Jessop's cute little boy-hole?"

"Yes sir," Michael admitted.

"You're a very naughty boy, aren't you Whitney?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, I know Jessop enjoyed it. You gave him a dry-cum. Not everyone does that. So now it's time you took mine."

"Yes sir. "D'you want me to kneel across your chest again?"

"How would you like me to do it? You choose."

"With me lying on my tummy."

"You really are a naughty boy! Go on then!"

"I usually have a pillow under me."

"Use the cushions. It's okay. You've only just cum. You won't make a mess."

Michael glanced at the armchair, where Jessop was sitting across Mr White's lap, the man's finger working its way in and out of the boy's bottom.

"Don't worry about them," Mr Brown instructed. "Just concentrate on what we're doing. We'll watch them afterwards."

Michael moved into position, lying face-down on the carpet, the two cushions beneath his hips, his legs spread apart. Moments later, he felt the man's slick penis probing at his back door. He relaxed the way he'd learned to, allowing it to slide right in.

"Very good!" Mr Brown breathed. "You like it hard, don't you Whitney?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, because that's how I'm going to give it to you!"

After a slow beginning, things built up rapidly until Michael was being fucked with every ounce of effort the man could raise. Once again he was in ecstasy, Mr Brown's heart pounding against his spine, the young man's musky aroma flooding his nostrils. His penis was throbbing. He wanted to cum, but so soon after he'd deposited his spunk in Jessop's bum, it simply wasn't possible.

Mr Brown was under no such limitations. He'd fucked King the previous day, but almost twenty-four hours later, he was more than ready. His orgasm overtook him like a runaway train.

"Oh yes!" he gasped. "Now take what I've got for you, you naughty boy!"

He buried his cock deep in Whitney's rectum. It sprang into life, spunk spurting over and over until he was totally spent.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"Did you enjoy having Whitney's cock up your bottom?" Alex asked, gently stroking Jessop's silk-smooth thighs.

"Oh yes sir!" the boy replied with obvious enthusiasm. "It was super! I can still feel his spunk inside me."

Alex gently slid his hand between Jessop's legs, moving it steadily back until he reached the boy's bum-hole. He was delighted to find that the lad's anal ring was much softer than King's had been, and stretched far more readily. As long as he was careful and patient, this would be easier than he'd expected. Very gently, he inserted a second finger directly behind the first. Jessop winced slightly, but emitted no sound of protest.

"Just relax," Alex purred. "This will really help."

As he and Jessop watched the show unfolding on the floor in front of them, he began to slowly twist his fingers around, using a scissoring action to further open the boy's sphincter. All too soon the show was over, Whitney and Mr Brown returning to their places on the sofa.

Now, Alex realised, it was their turn. He's prepared the boy as well as he could. He'd just have to hope it was enough. He'd thought he might fuck the lad in the same position that Whitney had had him in a few minutes earlier, but it soon became clear that Jessop and Mr Brown had other ideas.

As soon as Jessop stood up, Mr Brown followed suit, taking two large reference volumes from the bookcase. He placed them on the floor in front of the table, around two feet apart, while Jessop picked up one of the cushions. Standing on the reference books, Jessop bent over the table, his head and chest resting on the cushion.

Alex allowed himself a smile. They'd worked it out to perfection. Jessop was at exactly the right height. It could not have been better. But first he had to do some final preparations. Kneeling down, he lapped at Jessop's anus, his tongue pushing inside to lick up Whitney's spunk.

"Oh, sir!" Jessop moaned. "You're licking my boy-hole!"

"And you like it, don't you?" Alex demanded.

"Oh, yes sir!"

Applying more K-Y to his fingers, Alex inserted first one, then a second. This time Jessop didn't even flinch. Once again, Alex carefully worked them around. He'd done as much as he could. There could be no further delay. He got to his feet, guiding his cock onto Jessop's anus.

He pushed steadily. After a couple of seconds, his patience was rewarded. Jessop's sphincter opened up, allowing him inside.

"Oh sir!" Jessop gasped, his breathing short and uneven.

"Just relax," Alex urged. "You've done the hard part. The more you relax, the better it's going to feel. Just get used to me being there."

Alex stood exactly where he was, gently stroking Jessop's back. Mr Brown lay on the carpet, pushing his head between Alex's feet in order to get the best view of the action that was about to take place. Gradually the boy's breathing returned to normal. It was time to move things on.

Holding Jessop around the thighs Alex eased his way in, steadily reaming the boy's tight little tunnel. He pushed over the lad's prostate, Jessop's penis twitching in response. Finally, he was all the way in. He was exultant. How was it possible for the boy to be so soft, yet so tight? Only taking the boy's cherry could have surpassed the experience. Very steadily, he began to fuck.

"Oh yes sir!" Jessop whimpered. "Do it harder! Please sir!"

Alex ratcheted things up, still under control, still with plenty in reserve.

"Oh sir!" Jessop moaned. "Oh that's super! Oh! Give me your spunk!"

Taking his cue, Alex slid his fingers lengthways down the ten-year old's throbbing penis. It took the boy right over the edge, his hard little spike swelling and pulsing in the man's hand.

"Good boy!" Alex cooed. "Now for your reward!"

He thrust in as deep as he could. His cock jerked powerfully, once, twice, three times, followed by several smaller spasms. Prodigious amounts of thick, creamy semen flooded into the youngster's bottom. After several seconds, he carefully withdrew. It had gone perfectly. He'd done what he came to do and succeeded beyond his wildest expectations.

"Stay where you are," he whispered in Jessop's ear.

Allowing Mr Brown to move out of the way, he stood to one side. Inevitably, Jessop was leaking, the spunk running down his legs.

"Come on," Alex said, nodding to Whitney. "Do your job."

Michael knelt down, licking the spunk from one leg then the other until he was taking it directly from the younger boy's anus. Finally, the flow stopped.

"Okay," Mr Brown said gently, addressing himself to Jessop. "Stand up and take Whitney to the bathroom. Don't take too long. They need to go soon."

Michael followed the younger boy out of the room. He'd had a wonderful afternoon, there was no question about it. He'd got on with Jessop far better than he'd thought he would. So if he was given the choice, who would he pick, Jessop or King? That was an easy question. He'd still go for King every time.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Gordon answered the phone the instant that Alex rang.

"I've already spoken to Martin," he gushed. "He couldn't wait to tell me what a wonderful job you did. He said that by the end, Jessop was begging you to do it harder."

"That's about right," Alex conceded.

"So how did you manage it?"

"Lots of patience and careful preparation, using two fingers and working them round. It wasn't hard. His bottom opened up far more easily than King's did."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'd really like you to come over here and do the same job on Southcott. He was eleven last week, and keeps asking me when I'm going to fuck him."

"That's tricky. Whitney can't make it here until just before three o'clock. We wouldn't have enough time. I guess I could come on my own."

"Couldn't Whitney meet you earlier for once?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to ask. It won't be for a couple of weeks in any case. With everything that's been going on, I've been neglecting him a bit. Next weekend I'm going to give him my undivided attention."

"That's fair enough."

"So tell me about Southcott."

"Well, he's about as far from the image of the boy chorister as you can imagine, always getting into scrapes. He's been caned numerous times. It doesn't seem to bother him. And you should see him playing rugby. He tackles boys who are far bigger than he is; doesn't care, just goes flying in. And having the bigger lads tackle him doesn't worry him either; just gets up and carries on. On the other hand, he's one of the most intelligent boys we've ever had, sings like an angel and loves sex."

"And he's nice looking, I presume?"

"Oh yes, beautiful little body; nice cock too for a boy of his size."

"Well, I'm looking forward to meeting him. Leave it with me. I'll see what I can do."