THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

Just to make sure there are no misunderstandings, if you're not supposed to read this, you probably shouldn't. Neither I nor Nifty can be held responsible for any unfortunate consequence that results from you reading this when you shouldn't.

And if you don't like stories that involve adult males having sex with preteen boys, I can't imagine how you even got here. All I know is that you ought to leave, now.

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CHAPTER SEVEN

November 1959

It was Monday afternoon. First year games had just ended. Michael strolled back into the changing room with the rest of the boys. He quickly stripped off and made his way into the showers. He wasn't actually dirty, so after rinsing himself off he moved to the drying area.

Downing, the boy who played in goal for the under-12 football team, was already there. He was nice, Michael decided, beautiful cock too, though there was no sign of it getting hard the way it had the last time he'd seen it. He'd have loved to suck it. He wondered if Downing would like that. Having your cock sucked felt super, so why wouldn't he?

He returned to the changing room. He was just about to put on his underpants when a thought struck him. As it was a dry day and he'd spent most of the afternoon trotting round avoiding the ball, his football shorts were still perfectly clean. After looking around to make sure nobody was watching, he put them on instead, quickly putting his grey school shorts over the top. Although it wasn't as comfortable as wearing underpants, it caused his cock to stiffen.

They were dismissed on the stroke of four o'clock. Five minutes later he arrived at Mr Faulkner's classroom. The maths master was sitting there, marking books. Michael sat down next to him.

"Hello sir," he said, smiling.

"Good to see you," Alex replied, taking Whitney's exercise book from the pile and placing it in front of them. "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Yes thanks," Michael answered. "On Saturday, before we went to the pool, Newton and I went to my uncle's flat."

"Really? So what happened?"

"Well, nothing actually happened, but my uncle couldn't stop looking at Newton. He was almost drooling."

"Well, that's hardly a surprise."

"No, but when I went to my uncle's yesterday, he asked me all about him. He never even mentioned you."

"You are a very naughty boy," Alex said, giving Whitney a conspiratorial grin. "You've done very well."

"So will I be able to come to your flat this Saturday?"

"Oh, I should think so. We might have to make it every other Saturday rather than every week, just to be on the safe side. But this Saturday will be fine."

"You really like Newton, don't you sir?"

"Of course, I already told you. I think he's gorgeous."

"When we were in the changing room at the pool, I saw you looking at him."

"Well there's no harm in looking, is there? You seemed to be having a good look around."

"That boy you told me about, the one with the big cock, he was there, wasn't he, on the other side of the bench?"

"Yes, I thought that's what you were looking at."

"It's odd, isn't it, sir? He's really skinny apart from his cock."

Alex would have liked to comment on the lad's cute little bottom and what a super fuck he'd be, but thought better of it. He'd already said enough about liking other boys.

"I'd love to have sucked him off," Michael continued. "D'you think he'd have liked that?"

"I can't say for sure, but he probably would. Lots of boys like to have their cocks sucked."

"Sir," Michael asked, lowering his voice. "Would you like to fuck Newton?"

"Of course I would. But that doesn't mean it's going to happen. What about you?"

"I don't know. I might, if he wanted me to."

"Okay, are you ready?"

Michael grinned and nodded. Alex made his usual check on the corridor, which was deserted as usual.

"Okay," he said.

They quickly moved into the store cupboard. Having locked the door, Alex sat down. He opened the fly buttons on Whitney's school shorts and eased them over the boy's hips. They slid down to the floor. Without waiting to be asked, Michael pulled up his shirt.

"Why the football shorts?" Alex queried.

"You know sir," Michael said. "So you can fuck me in them."

"You really liked that, didn't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Are you sure your mum won't notice?"

"I'll be home before she is. I'll wash them as soon as I get back."

"Okay, you seem to have got it worked out. But I'll take them down for now. I still want to suck you."

He gently skinned them down Whitney's legs, exposing the lad's rampant cock. Over the next few minutes they reprised their usual routine. Finally, they were ready. Michael positioned himself over the chair. Alex pulled up Whitney's shorts, leaving them on the boy's hips.

They fitted more snugly than the ones he'd worn on his last visit to the flat. Alex had barely enough room to get his cock up the leg and onto Whitney's anus. But it was what the lad wanted and he was more than happy to give it to him.

Michael felt Mr Faulkner's cock pressing against his bum-hole. He relaxed, allowing the man to impale him with a single thrust. After a moment's pause, the man began to fuck him. It felt perfect. His shorts were stretched tight over his penis which rubbed against them as his teacher's cock pounded over his sex-gland.

The tingling built rapidly until it was almost painful. At the same time, his penis began to leak, a wet spot developing on the front of his shorts. Suddenly, he shuddered from head to toe. Only Mr Faulkner holding him around his thighs kept him from falling over. His cock swelled and jerked, his spunk squirting powerfully into his shorts.

"Oh, you naughty boy!" Alex whispered. "You've made a mess in your shorts! And now you've made me cum!"

He tightened his grip on Whitney's thighs before burying his cock in the boy's bum. In the next instant, copious amounts of thick, creamy semen flooded into the lad's rectum. As soon as he'd recovered his composure, he carefully withdrew.

Michael could feel his teacher's spunk leaking into his football shorts. He could have changed into his underpants right there, but decided not to. He simply pulled up his school shorts. Within a few seconds, he was ready to leave.

"Thanks, sir," he said grinning. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

"Thank you," Alex responded. "I'll look forward to it."

Michael made his way to the boys' toilets. It was a little uncomfortable, walking around with Mr Faulkner's spunk still leaking from his anus, but he found it strangely exciting, as though he was being even naughtier than usual.

As soon as he was safely locked in a stall, he pulled down both pairs of shorts and sat on the toilet, allowing his teacher's spunk to run into the bowl. After wiping his bum, he quickly changed from football shorts to underpants, wrapped the soiled shorts in his towel, finished dressing and headed for home.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex resumed marking 1-Green's exercise books. He felt as though he was floating on a white, fluffy cloud. Whitney might not have been his first choice, but he performed as well as any boy he'd ever met. In all probability, he was the only lad in the whole year group who'd had full male-on-male sex when still at junior school. Finding him so soon had been the ultimate stroke of fortune.

With his marking completed, he got his things together and strolled along to the staffroom. He was surprised to see Neil Fleming working at one of the tables.

"Hello," Neil said brightly. "I was looking for you. I came to your classroom but you weren't there. I knew you were still in school because your car was outside."

"Oh," Alex said, thinking on his feet. "I popped over to the pavilion to sort out something for my football team."

He was seriously alarmed. Neil must have come to his classroom while he and Whitney were ensconced in the store cupboard. Presumably he'd just looked through the door and gone away again. They'd been quiet, but by no means silent. If he'd actually come into the room, he might well have heard something. Even worse, he could have arrived just as they emerged. Then the balloon really would have gone up. He sat down at the table where Neil was working.

"I thought you usually went straight home," he said, doing his best not to show his discomfort.

"My younger boy does after-school activities on Mondays and Thursdays," Neil explained. "It was okay before half term. He could go home on the bus. But now the clocks have gone back, I don't like him going home in the dark. He's only twelve. There's him and another boy from the village. We've arranged that I pick them up on Mondays and the other lad's mother collects them on Thursdays."

"Oh, I see," Alex said, nodding. "So what did you want to see me about?"

"Well first of all, I wanted to give you sight of the end of term exam papers," he answered, handing Alex a folder. "I assume I can trust you not to teach your classes the actual papers, but what you should do is to make sure that they're familiar with the type of questions that I've set."

"Fine," Alex said. "I'll look through them this evening."

"Second," Neil went on, "I wanted to let you know that now that you've had half a term to settle in, I'll be coming to observe some of your classes. So which is your best class?"

"Oh, 2-Red," Alex told him. "They're very bright and so eager to learn."

"Right, well I'll come and look at them," Neil said. "The other group I want to see is your fourth year class. Don't prepare anything special. Just carry on exactly as you normally would."

"That's fine," Alex responded. "Don't you want to see 3-Blue?"

"You've taken on a tough job there," Neil said, smiling, "and I know how hard you've been working with them. I think the best thing I can do is to let you to get on with it."

"Thanks!" Alex acknowledged.

A few minutes later he was on his way home. His heart was racing, knowing how close to disaster he'd come. If Mr Fleming was going to stay in school, his Monday afternoon assignations with Whitney would be far too dangerous. On this occasion he'd managed to bluff his way out of trouble. Next time, he might not be so lucky.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex's class with 2-Red had just started when Mr Fleming arrived. As all the seats were occupied, Alex took the chair from the store cupboard. Mr Fleming took it to the back of the room and sat down. The class resumed. Within a few moments, Alex had almost forgotten that his head of department was there. It seemed as though the boys had too.

"Right," Alex said. "Now I'd like you to think about this problem. By selling an item for £432, a shopkeeper makes a profit of sixty per cent on the price that he paid for it. How much did he pay for it?" He paused for a moment. "Let's think how we can work that out. Suppose I said to you that we'll find sixty per cent of £432 and take it off, would that be correct? Who thinks it would?"

A few boys tentatively put up their hands.

"And who thinks that wouldn't be correct?" Alex continued.

A whole forest of hands went up.

"Well," Alex said, smiling. "You don't seem to think much of that idea. So can any of you explain to me why that isn't the correct way to do it?"

Around a dozen hands went up.

"Well, Mitchell?" Alex said.

"Because the sixty per cent is sixty per cent of the price he paid for it," Mitchell answered, "not the price he sold it for."

"Excellent!" Alex said. "Well done! So how are we going to do it? Burnett, the whole of something is what percentage of it?"

"One hundred per cent, sir," Burnett answered.

"Very good," Alex said brightly. "So, Turner if we add on sixty per cent, what percentage of it have we got now?"

"One hundred and sixty per cent, sir," Turner responded.

"So we can say that 160 per cent of the cost price is £432," Alex said, writing it on the blackboard.

"So how can we work out 20 per cent is?" he asked, turning back to the class. "Locke, what do you think?"

"Divide by eight sir." Locke answered.

"Okay let's do it." Alex instructed.

"Fifty-four pounds sir," several boys chorused.

"Okay," Alex said, writing that on the board too. "So to find what 100 per cent is, what will we do now? Gillespie?"

"Times by five, sir."

And with that they had their answer. Over the next few minutes they worked through three more examples. At every stage, Alex asked a different boy what the next step should be, directing most of his questions to the quieter, less confident boys.

Finally, he set an exercise for them to begin in class and complete for homework. They set about it eagerly, the atmosphere purposeful and positive. While they worked, Alex began to check what they were doing, beginning by the windows. Taking this as his cue, Mr Fleming began to look through the books of the boys on the other side of the room. Almost before they knew it, the bell sounded and the class was over.

"It's amazing how quickly the time goes when you're enjoying yourself!" Alex quipped. "Right, remember your homework is to finish the exercise," he reminded them. "Okay, put your things away, and make your way out quietly."

The boys packed away their belongings and quietly left the room.

"Well," Neil said, smiling and nodding. "There's certainly no hiding place in your classroom. You made sure everyone was involved. That's excellent. You made everything really clear and the boys seemed to feed off your enthusiasm. They were eating out of your hand. My only concern was that you didn't show them how to solve the problem algebraically."

"Oh, that'll be the next lesson," Alex responded, "either tomorrow or the day after, depending on how they've got on. I want to make sure they understand the principle first. Once they've got that, we can look at a neater, shorter way of writing the solution."

"I can't argue with that," Neil said approvingly. "So well done; I'm looking forward to seeing your fourth year class."

"I've looked through the exam papers you gave me," Alex said. "I'm a bit concerned that there are some questions on the third year paper that most of 3-Blue won't be able to do. The five boys I'm teaching separately will be fine, but I'm worried that the other lads will lose confidence if they're faced with questions they can't do. That would be a major setback."

"So what are you suggesting?" Neil asked guardedly.

"The five boys I've been teaching separately should do the exam as you've set it," Alex responded. "For the others, I'd like to take out the questions we won't have covered by then and put in some questions on the second year work I've been revising with them."

"In normal circumstances I wouldn't even entertain the idea," Neil said firmly, "but I appreciate that these aren't normal circumstances. You do understand that in the summer the whole class will have to do the proper exam."

"Oh, of course," Alex assured him. "We'll have caught up well before then."

"Okay," Neil agreed, "Let me see the paper once you've drafted it."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0 o

It was Wednesday afternoon. Alex was sitting in his classroom when Whitney arrived. As usual, he sat down next to his teacher.

"I need to talk to you," Alex said quietly. "It seems we have a little problem. On Monday afternoon while we were in the store room, Mr Fleming came here looking for me. He's my head of department. He knew I was in school because my car was still here. Fortunately, I managed to bluff my way out of it, but we can't risk it happening again."

"So what are we going to do then, sir?" Michael asked.

"The problem is Mondays," Alex told him. "Usually Mr Fleming goes straight home unless we've got a meeting, but it seems that on Mondays from now until Easter, he'll be staying here until five o'clock. It's something to do with him picking up one of his sons from school."

"But we're okay for today, aren't we?"

"Yes, but you need to understand that until after Easter I'll only be able to see you on Wednesdays and either Fridays or Saturdays."

"Yeah, I understand," Michael acknowledged. "So can we go into the store room now?"

"Let me check the corridor first," Alex said, getting to his feet.

He made his usual cursory inspection. As usual, the place was deserted.

"Okay," he said, and ushered the boy into their hiding place.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The following morning, Alex was already in full flow when Neil Fleming entered his fourth year class. Neil looked around, noting with approval that Jones and Chandler, two potential trouble makers, were right at the front, Jones in the middle and Chandler by the window, so they weren't next to each other. Noticing too that the entire back row was empty, he went and sat there.

Alex continued with his lesson, using the trigonometrical formula for the area of a triangle to derive the Sine Rule. As always, he involved the boys at every stage. Even when he needed to tell them what the next step would be, he let them work out what they would get when they carried it out.

With the formula established, they moved on to look at the situations in which it could be applied, and worked through several examples, calling on a different boy to perform each step. Neil was impressed. Though not as bubbly as 2-Red had been, the boys were fully engaged. Even Etheridge, who'd become quite difficult the previous year, was hanging onto the young teacher's every word.

With the worked examples completed, Alex set the boys an exercise. After a couple of minutes, he began to patrol the room, checking what they were doing. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Mr Fleming was talking to Etheridge and seemed to be checking right through his exercise book. Alex smiled to himself. There'd be no problem there. Since mid-September, Etheridge's work had improved until he was one of the best in the class.

Finally, the class was at an end. As the boys left the room, Neil strolled across to Alex's desk.

"Most impressive," he said quietly. "You don't do things quite as I would, but it's obviously working, so well done."

"I noticed you talking to Etheridge," Alex commented.

"Oh, you seem to have worked wonders there," Neil said smiling. "I told him I was pleased to see him working well again. He told me it was all because of you, said you're the best teacher he's ever had. But tell me, how did you get the whole back row empty like that?"

"When they first arrived, I told them they could sit where they wanted," Alex said, "When they'd sat down, I said that I knew that the back row was where the naughty boys sat, so anyone who'd sat there had to move. I wanted to show them that I was in charge. Since then, I've moved Jones and Chandler right to the front, like you said."

"Very good!" Neil commented. "Even I wouldn't have thought of that one."

"Actually, this week Chandler's been as good as gold" Alex continued. "He's put his head down and got on with his work. I don't know what's happened. He usually does as little as he can get away with. So who's been looking after your group while you were here?"

"Oh, I set them a test," Neil answered. "I left Warner from my Upper Sixth class to supervise them."

"He's the captain of the school first eleven, isn't he?" Alex queried.

"Exactly," Neil confirmed. "And nobody's going to mess him about. Right, I need to collect the test papers from him so I'd better leave you to it."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Saturday afternoon. Michael arrived at Mr Faulkner's flat at quarter to three. He was more than ready, his cock rock hard before he got inside. As always, Mr Faulkner seemed delighted to see him. They quickly headed to the bedroom. Over the next twenty minutes they reprised their usual routine, the intensity gradually building. Michael snuggled up as close as he could. He smeared Vaseline over Mr Faulkner's cock.

"So how are you going to have me today, sir?" he enquired, nuzzling his teacher's ear.

"Oh, I thought we'd try something new," Alex told him. "Lie on your back please, legs apart."

Michael did as he was asked. Alex knelt between Whitney's calves. He reached down, lifting the boy's legs until his knees were close to his shoulders. Realising what was to happen, Michael placed his hands behind his knees to hold himself in position.

"Good boy!" Alex breathed.

He moved in close, guiding his cock onto the boy's anus. With one hard thrust he was in.

"Oh yes!" Michael gasped.

"You sexy boy," Alex whispered. "You love having my cock inside you."

"Oh yes sir," Michael agreed. "Go on sir. I want your spunk!"

Alex set to work. Michael watched spellbound, his eyes glued to Mr Faulkner's cock as it thrust repeatedly into his bum. Although the position was a little awkward, Alex reached down to fondle the boy's penis. Within a few seconds Michael convulsed, his legs flailing wildly. A moment later his cock sprang to life between his teacher's fingers. Jets of clear boy-cum flew out, splattering his chest and his chin. Alex thrust his cock deep into the boy's rectum.

"Oh yes!" he growled. "Now I'm going to fill your bottom!"

His cock jerked powerfully, several ropes of thick, creamy spunk flooding into Whitney's bum.

Ten minutes later, Michael was on his way home. Watching himself being fucked had been one of the biggest thrills ever. He'd never imagined that such a thing was even possible.

Back at his flat, Alex settled into his armchair. He was on cloud nine. Whitney was proving to be an absolute delight. There seemed to be no aspect of sex that he didn't enjoy.

At six o'clock, he picked up the phone and dialled Gordon Millward's number.

"Hi Gordon," he greeted as his friend answered, "It's Alex."

"Excellent!" Gordon said. "I was hoping you'd call. How are things going with the boy Whitney?"

"Even better than I could have hoped," Alex told him. "He's wonderful, one of the sexiest boys I've ever come across. The harder I fuck him, the better he likes it. He was here this afternoon. I had him on his back with his legs pulled right back over his shoulders. He loved it! He couldn't take his eyes off my cock while I was fucking him. Well, I put my fingers round his little beauty and started wanking him. I'd only been doing it for a few seconds. He shot all over himself."

"Sounds delightful," Gordon enthused. "Maitland will love giving him a good seeing-to. So will I for that matter."

"I've not had him sitting on my lap yet," Alex said. "I'm going to do that next week. I'm sure it won't be a problem. Then I'll ask him. I'm sure he'll want to do it."

"Excellent," Gordon repeated. "I'll look forward to hearing from you next week."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Wednesday afternoon. Alex had just finished entertaining Whitney in his store room. As always, he'd enjoyed every second of it. The twelve-year old was a wonderful fuck.

"Right," he said as the boy prepared to leave. "I'll see you in the pavilion on Friday afternoon."

"Can't I come to your flat on Saturday sir?" Michael asked imploringly.

"Sorry, we said every other week for the moment," Alex responded gently, stroking the lad's hair.

Much as he would have preferred to see Whitney at his flat, he was conscious of the need to not give way too easily to the boy's requests. In any event, he was still wary about Whitney's uncle. For the moment they needed to play it safe.

"Okay," Michael conceded.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As the boys assembled for under-15 football training, all the talk was of their next match. On Saturday morning, they would be playing against Northridge Boys' School who were the league leaders, having won all their matches. Although undefeated, Woodchurch had drawn two games earlier in the term and stood second.

Over the previous three years the boys had played against Northridge numerous times. Northridge had won every one. As third years, they had lost 4–2 at home and 3–1 away. Alex could tell that the boys were apprehensive, far from confident that they could turn it round.

"Okay," he said, "Just sit down for a moment. Before we go out to train, I want to talk about Saturday's match. We are going to be facing a very good team. There's no doubt about it. This will be our toughest test yet. But let's not forget how much we've improved." He turned to the goalkeeper.

"Nicholson," he asked. "How many goals have we conceded this term?"

"Nine, sir," Nicholson answered.

"And how many in the last three matches?"

"None sir."

"So are they really going to be able to come here and put three or four goals past us? As long as we believe in ourselves and keep doing what we've been doing, it's not going to happen. But as I said, they're a good team. They'll come at us hard, and we've got to be ready for them. So until I say otherwise, we'll be keeping eight men behind the ball. Only Sharp, Rogers and Archer will be getting forward. They're our outlet. When we break up one of their attacks, get the ball out to one of them, Archer if possible, so that we can hit them on the break. Right, let's get out there and work on it."

An hour later, the boys trooped back to the changing room. Although some of them who were used to getting forward had found it quite hard at first, they'd adapted very well. That was the merit of having intelligent boys to work with, Alex reflected. But when it came to the match, would they be able to stick to the plan?

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With classes over for the week, Alex strolled across to the pavilion. As usual the place was deserted. After opening the first changing room, he took a chair from Mr Needham's office and placed it facing one of the benches. He'd need that later.

When Michael arrived he was surprised to see a chair in the middle of the floor, but he didn't question it. Maybe Mr Needham had left it there, he speculated. As usual, he went to sit next to Mr Faulkner, who was parked on one of the benches.

"Good to see you," Alex whispered, placing his arm around Whitney's shoulder. "Are you feeling sexy?" he asked, running his hand over the boy's silk-smooth thigh.

"Yes sir," Michael acknowledged.

Alex moved his hand upwards, over the front of the boy's shorts and onto his throbbing penis.

"You certainly are," he confirmed. "It's time we got you undressed."

After removing his shoes and socks, Michael stood up. He took off his blazer, hanging it on one of the hooks. Then he stood in front of Mr Faulkner, giving him an unspoken invitation to finish the job. Alex got to his feet. He undid Whitney's tie and the buttons of the boy's shirt, easing it off his shoulders. Michael removed it completely, hanging both shirt and tie on top of his blazer. Next, Alex pulled Whitney's white cotton vest out of the top of his shorts. Michael raised his arms, allowing his teacher to take it right off.

Alex sat down again, placing the boy's vest on the bench. Reaching forwards, he released the clip at the top of Whitney's shorts and opened the buttons. He gave the shorts a gentle tug, causing them to fall to the floor. Michael stepped out of them. Alex ran his fingers over the front of the lad's underpants. The boy's penis twitched invitingly. Alex hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, leaving Whitney to kick them off.

"You're beautiful," Alex said appreciatively.

He leant forwards, devouring the boy's throbbing cock. He sucked it eagerly, savouring its vibrant stiffness. Finally, he let it go and stood up.

"You know what to do," he said, smiling indulgently.

Michael knelt on the floor. Reaching up, he undid the man's fly buttons and extracted his cock. He took it into his mouth. He began to suck, gradually pushing further and further down until it was touching the back of his throat.

"Good boy!" Alex exhaled. "That feels wonderful."

Michael continued, working his tongue all over the man's big cock.

"Okay, you'd better stop now," Alex urged breathlessly.

Michael let him go.

"Aren't you going to get naked?" he asked.

"Of course I am," Alex responded, giving the boy a broad grin.

In a matter of seconds, he discarded his clothes.

"Okay," he said. "Bend over the bench for me."

With Whitney in position, Alex knelt down. He licked the boy's anus and pushed his tongue inside.

"Oh, sir!" Michael gasped. "I want your cock!"

"And you're going to get it," Alex said quietly as he stood up again.

He handed the boy a jar of Vaseline. Michael quickly smeared some over his teacher's penis and resumed his position.

"Not like that," Alex informed him. "I want to try something else."

Michael stood up and turned round. He was surprised to see Mr Faulkner sitting on the chair.

"I'd like you to sit on my lap," Alex said, smiling.

Michael looked puzzled, not sure quite what to do.

"Stand with your back to me, feet well apart," Alex instructed.

Michael did as he was asked.

"Move a bit closer," Alex continued.

Michael shuffled back a few inches.

"Okay, now sit down."

As he lowered himself, Michael encountered the head of the man's cock pushing against his bum-hole.

"Now push down," Alex urged.

Michael took a deep breath and did as he'd been asked, allowing Mr Faulkner to penetrate him.

"Good boy!" Alex breathed.

Placing his hands on Whitney's thighs, he gently pushed the boy downwards until his pubic hair was pressed tight against the twelve-year old's bottom.

"Now put your feet on the bench," Alex said.

So that was why they needed the chair, Michael realised.

Alex smiled to himself as he recalled how often he'd been in the position where Whitney now was. From the age of ten, he'd often found himself sitting on Gordon Millward's lap, or that of one of Gordon's friends. He'd never objected. He'd enjoyed it immensely. It had never occurred to him to complain.

Things had changed a couple of years later when he was able to cum and there were younger boys to be fucked. His first had been ten-year old Wainwright, small, cute and slightly built. Gordon, mindful of his own considerable size, had asked him to take the lad's cherry.

One evening, the two of them had been left alone in the music classroom. Alex had been very nervous, but Wainwright had been more than receptive to his advances. After some fairly cursory foreplay, Wainwright had bent obediently over one of the desks, allowing Alex to thrust his well-lubed cock into the younger boy's virgin bum.

The encounter had set Alex on the path that he'd followed ever since. There'd been a hiatus when he'd started at public school and found himself once again at the bottom of the pecking order. As one of the youngest in the school, he'd been subject to advances, both from his English master and from a succession of senior boys.

He'd complied willingly with their requests. Any sex was better than none, he'd reasoned, even if it wasn't the way round he'd come to prefer. In the event, it proved to be a temporary reverse. The following year Armitage, whom he'd known at prep school, came up to the same public school.

Sixteen months Alex's junior and very cute, Armitage was highly desirable. During Alex's final year at prep school, he and Armitage had become very close. When Armitage arrived at public school, he'd been more than happy for them to resume their previous relationship. Alex had fucked him whenever he could, and had used his influence to ensure that his young friend was only available to la crème de la crème among the senior boys.

At age eighteen, Alex had gone up to Cambridge. With no access to boys, his time there had been difficult. But by focussing on his studies, playing rugby for his college team and singing in the college choir, he'd got through it. But the time he'd been waiting for had finally arrived, and he was going to make the most of it.

He held Whitney's penis between his thumb and first three fingers and began to pump his hips, thrusting his cock upwards into the boy's bottom. Spurred on by Whitney's quiet moans of pleasure, he gradually picked up the pace until he was fucking the lad as hard as he could.

Michael was ecstatic, the tingling in his penis building with every thrust.

"Ohhh! He gasped. "Oh sir!"

He shuddered from head to toe, his muscles wracked by crazy spasms. His cock sprang to life. Jets of sticky, translucent spunk squirted over his chest.

"Oh, you naughty boy!" Alex growled.

He thrust in as deep as he could, his hands pressing down on Whitney's thighs to hold him in place. His cock jerked violently. Several ropes of creamy spunk spurted into the boy's rectum. For several seconds they remained as they were while they recovered from their exertions.

"Okay, put your feet down," Alex said finally.

As Whitney's feet reached the floor, Alex placed his hands on either side of the boy's chest and lifted him upright, his glistening cock exiting the lad's anus. Michael stood up, realising that for once he wasn't leaking.

"So did you enjoy that?" Alex asked. "I know I did."

"Oh yes sir," Michael confirmed. "It was super!"

"So have you had any luck with finding a boy to have sex with?" Alex enquired.

"No sir."

"I might be able to help you out," Alex said quietly. "I've a friend, another teacher, Mr Smith. He knows a boy I think you'd like. If you want, I could arrange for you to meet him."

"How old is he?"

"Just turned thirteen."

"Is he nice looking?"

"I've not actually met him, but Mr Smith says he's very nice looking. I'm sure he must be. Mr Smith only goes with nice looking boys. If you want, he could bring the boy to my flat."

"Suppose I didn't like him, the boy I mean?"

"It would stop right there, but I'm sure that won't happen."

"So what would I have to do?"

"Well, assuming you like each other, you can do whatever you want."

"What will you be doing?"

"Mr Smith and I will watch you. When you've finished, Mr Smith will want to fuck you like I just did, while I'll fuck his boy. Mr Smith's nice too. You'll be perfectly safe, I promise. So would you like me to invite them?"

"When?"

"I was thinking about next weekend."

Michael paused for a second. This was exactly the sort of thing his uncle had warned him about. He knew he ought to say no, but the opportunity to have sex with a good looking thirteen-year old was too good to turn down.

"Yeah, okay," he said, smiling nervously.

"There is one problem," Alex said quietly. "Mr Smith has a big cock, a bit bigger than mine. Is there any way you could get out of seeing your uncle next Sunday? Tell him you have to go somewhere or something?"

"Not really, Michael answered. "If I tell him I've got to go somewhere on Sunday, he'll expect to see me on Saturday."

"Then why don't we swap days?" Alex suggested. "You see your uncle Saturday and come to my place on Sunday."

"Yeah, okay," Michael agreed, still concerned about what might happen.

"So what will you tell your uncle?"

"I'll say one of my friends from school has invited me to his birthday party. Don't worry, he can't ask my mum about it. She'd want to know why he was asking."

"Good boy!" Alex whispered, licking Whitney's ear. "I'll call Mr Smith and arrange it."

"Shall I get dressed now?" Michael asked.

"Yes."

Michael dressed quickly, pulling on his underpants and his shorts.

"Aren't you going to the toilet?" Alex queried.

"No sir," Michael replied, giving him a mischievous grin. "I'm going to keep your spunk inside me till I get home."

A couple of minutes later he was on his way, Mr Faulkner's spunk slowly seeping into his underpants.