WARNING: This ADULT fiction contains sexual accounts between boys
and men with boys AND IS UNSUITABLE FOR MINORS.
SNOWY WHYTE AND
THE SEVEN ANORAKS!
A FAIRY TALE FOR BOYS.
by Graham Day
"Sleepy" 1 to 6
"Sleepy" 7 to 12
"Sleepy" 13 to 18
"Doc" 1 to 5
"Doc" 6 to 9
"Doc" 10 to 14
"Sneezy" 1 to 4
"Sneezy" 5 to 8
"Sneezy" 9 to 12
"Happy" 1 to 5
"Happy" 6 to 10
"Happy" 11 to 15
DICTIONARY ENTRY FOR NON-BRITISH READERS: ANORAK (PERSON)
Function: noun - BRITISH DISAPPROVING
A term that has been used since the 80's meaning a Geek or a Nerd. A person who is very interested in the trivia and unimportant details of their hobby and does not like to be sociable. An 'anorak' is always male, usually unfashionable and possibly a train-spotter.
-PART FOUR --
"Is that Mirror on the Wall Psychic Guidance?" Mrs Whyte asked imperiously of the respondent at the end of the telephone line, but soon she realised she was once more in the grip of that abominable call system that cost her money while playing snatches of Vivaldi's Four Seasons.
Her dwindling patience was rewarded as she entered her account number and within seconds heard the consoling sounds of Madame Zelda's nicotine-stained voice.
"This is Mrs. Whyte again..." she explained to the 'world famous psychic'. " I have to tell you I believe the intervention of the spirits is working yet again I was polishing the new house nameplate, when the telephone rang. It was the District surgeon's wife telling me that as her husband was down with the gout and that they would have to miss the Surgeon General's Annual Ball in London but would we like to go in their place!"
"My, my how grand..." the 'world famous psychic' intoned.
"Just think of it! Me there, with the crème de la crème of medical society!"
"Very proper company for you, dear mistress," said Madame Zelda in her familiar husky tones "and will you be taking the children?"
"Oh no! Well perhaps dear Pricilla! But that awful boy will be staying at home."
"Oh the spirits who know all and foresee all are pleased mistress, it will give the good Doctor a change to know and love Pricilla that little bit more."
"Oh Madame Zelda you are a marvel, I thought thirteen might be a bit young for a ball but, indeed, you are right it is a perfect opportunity I will take Pricilla with us to London."
"I am but a simple hand-maiden, as I keep telling you, it is the spirits of the Mirror on the Wall that are great..."
"My husband and I were planning to stay overnight in London at an Hotel and now we will take my little Prissy along, but what am I to do with the boy?"
"What about asking these friends he has been making to stay overnight?"
"Oh Lord no! They are far too unreliable. That Smyke will burn the house down and even the good Vicars nephew is dubious. My precious Pricilla has found him a big disappointment." Mrs. Whyte sighed.
"Ah yes, mistress boys of that age are seldom that interested in promising girls like Pricilla. But, remember dear mistress that you need to encourage the boy in these friendships. The more inappropriate the friends the better! Soon his father will transfer his affections to your daughter."
"Oh dear, Madame Zelda you are such a comfort to me!"
"Oh tarry, esteemed mistress, I am getting a message!" Madame Zelda hit the Mysterious Music button, placed the call on hold and took a drag at the cigarette-end.
£5-25 later, Madame Zelda faded the Mysterious Music and spoke: "Chief Deerhunter attends you dear mistress. He maintains you are to encourage the boy to stay home on the night in question. He instructs you to ask the Vicar to recommend a sitter! Chief Deerhunter warns you that the boy will be visited by powerful spectres from around the world."
"Oh my goodness!" Mrs. Whyte almost felt sorry for the boy but she soon recovered her malicious good humour - the thought of the boy being tormented by ghosts and ghouls was rather appealing and a smile spread over her thin red lips.
"The Chief has spoken!"
"Oh, I knew I could count on you, dear Madame Zelda."
"Well, dear Madame don't forget to call back twice a day for the Mystic Spiritual Balm Therapy. Then, if you call me back on after the Ball we will discuss the results. I am still trying to get a special reading for you with Chief Deerhunter."
"Madame Zelda I feel certain victory will be ours."
"Thank you for calling Mirror on the Wall Psychic Guidance, mistress. May the spirits be with you..." The Mysterious Music raised to a crescendo.
He sensed it the moment he entered the hall of "Once-Upon-a-Time", the Whyte family home. It hung in the air. As he approached the library, Revered Prim heard girlish shrieks of excitement - this confirmed his impression that something unusual was afoot.
Following the great British tradition of Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple and gossipy village-busybodies everywhere, he set his well-honed detective sensibilities on finding the source of all the agitation.
The first of several clues was the surprising presence on the hallstand of three anoraks.
Three anoraks indeed!
This could only mean that the three inseparable friends of young Snowy had been invited to Sunday lunch. He could understand the new Mrs. Whyte inviting his shy nephew - after all, that dreadful girl of hers had an eye on him, but he knew that Snowy's stepmother thought Peter Pratt was common and Damien Smyke was positively dangerous -- so why invite them to lunch?
He sniffed the air and the mystery deepened. Mrs. Whyte relied on two styles of cooking: traditional-but-tasteless or experimental-but-dangerous -- but the aroma emanating from the kitchen was positively delicious. Something remarkable was clearly going on!
The kindly old Vicar wandered into the library and found the three friends sitting disconsolately, side by side on the old sofa.
"For three young fellow who are on the verge of the school holidays, you are all looking exceptionally glum." The Vicar opened cheerily.
"Wotcha Vicar!" said little Peter Pratt despondently.
"Master Pratt, what brings you here?"
"Mrs. Snowy invited us to lunch to meet his Dad, the doctor, but his Dad had a call and Snowy is out trying to help him start the car." Dr Whyte drove a fine, but ancient, Jaguar which seemed to spend as much time next to the road as on it.
"Bleedin' poncy motor if yer asked me..."grumbled Damien Smyke, living up to his nickname - Grumpy.
"N-n-now D-D-Damien if you going to be b-b-bad t-t-t-tempered you know what will h-h-h-happen..." Stuttered the Reverend's nephew as he brushed his messy hair away from his eyes and unsuspectingly lighting Damien's short fuse.
"Same bleedin' fing vat ain't happed va past four nights." Smyke exploded.
"Oh my', is this a lovers tiff?" Asked the Vicar compassionately.
"Oh...err!" said Osbert Prim, turning a delicate pink at the mention of the "L" word.
"Big bleedin' tosser, wot yer getting' tightassed about va Vicar's question?" Grumpy growled.
But Osbert rapidly recovered his composure, adjusted his crooked glasses and explained: "Uncle, h-h-h-he was trying to p-p-pick a f-f-fight last with some l-l-lads in the High Street and I t-t-told him n-no s-s-s-sex if he f-f-fights."
"Bleedin' unfair! An' I woz only finking of giving `im a head butt in va face, nuffin' serious like...." Smyke ground his teeth in frustration.
"I-I-I made it c-c-clear when you m-m-m-moved in y-y-you don't t-t-t-touch my w-w-w-willy if you d-d-drink or s-s-steal or f-fight."
"Sounds fair to me Master Smyke..." The Vicar beamed at the ingenuity of his nephew's plot.
"Might be bleedin' ok for you, mate, but I ain't been fingered up va bum for four bleedin' days."
"Oh...err!" Bashful blushed at this rude revelation by his lover. This caused eight-year-old Peter Pratt to giggle brightly and lick his lips very suggestively.
"And wots so bleedin' funny `ven? I suppose you getting all va sucking you wants wiv Snowy, while I only got me old right bleedin' `and an me own finger up me bum `ole..." Damien Smyke growled darkly at the slow-witted, bucktoothed boy.
"Oh...err!" Bashful stammered in mortification. The poor old Vicar felt his ancient penis hardening at all these naughty revelations. With a tremor in his voice and throbbing under his cassock, he tried to divert his attention back to the mystery at hand.
"And where are the rest of the family?"
"It s-s-seems they g-g-got an invitation to the S-Surgeon G-General's ball up in L-L-London and Pricilla is c-c-changing into her b-b-b-ball g-gown for us to s-s-see." Osbert Prim said recovering slightly from his blushes.
"Goodness, a ball at the height of the London Season, how very grand." Said the Vicar.
"Yes and vat ol' cow, `is mum, said she ain't taking Snowy wiv `em and I says vat is right mean, o' `em." Grumpy fumed away.
"Well my dear, I suppose a society ball is not exactly the place for a little boy..." said the Vicar, but secretly he agreed with Smyke.
"Yeah, but vay taking vat lump o' lard, `is stepsister, ain't they? And its our mates Snowy's birthday vat day an' all..." Smyke sneered. "We just offered to come an keep `im company but va ol' bitch wont have none of it."
"What a sad state of affairs." Said the Vicar ruefully, understanding why the friend's spirits were at a low point. "But what does young Snowy's father have to say about it?"
"W-w-we th-th-think he has forgotten it is S-S-Snowy's b-b-b-birthday." Said Osbert sadly.
Just then, from the hallway, Mrs. Whyte barked out an imperious command for attention. She had invited these common louts to luncheon to expose her husband to the sort of low company his son was keeping and then the Doctor got called out! It really was too bad and now she was stuck with this awful company. To make matters worse the second Mrs. Whyte was apprehensive about showing these lads the wonderful new ball gown she had ordered for Pricilla. But the young male point of view was essential -- after all, if all went well, her dearest dear would enchant the son of the Surgeon General, or at least some suitable young intern. Her dear Pricilla had such a sensitive disposition, and she hoped these boys would not say something inappropriate.
A rustle of petticoats and a barely suppressed gasp announced the arrival of Pricilla.
The Vicar and the three lads gaped in disbelief at the apparition before them.
"Enchanting..." the Revered Prim managed, but his voice lacked conviction.
"V-v-very c-clever the w-w-way it s-s-s-sticks o-o-o-out..." Bashful muttered as he barely managed to stifling a giggle - he could not help thinking of a hippopotamus in tutu.
"Well it is very... very pink." Dopey succeeded in saying at length.
"Yeah, but I bet va Christmas fairy is right pissed."
"What do you mean?" demanded Mrs. Whyte of the young thug, but she felt her heart sank into her Gucci shoes.
"Well you must `ave nicked `er dress and now she will `ave to spend Christmas bare-bum up va Christmas tree on Trafalgar Square."
The effect of this was electric - the boys fell about laughing, while Pricilla wailed like an injured beast and fled from the room.
"Oh you cruel, common cretins," Mrs. Whyte lashed out at the vulgar oafs she had been foolish enough to invite to her home. "Prissy, dearest, Mamma is coming, my sweetness." She rushed after the fat ball of pink crinoline.
"Well Mr Smyke that was not very kind..."
"Y-y-yes, p-p-perhaps," stammered Osbert Prim as he dried his eyes, "b-b-b-but it was very c-c-clever." Bashful hugged his lover proudly and gave the older boy's bottom a playful squeeze. "I think he will be getting s-s-s-some s-s-sugar and s-s-s-spice tonight as a r-r-r-reward."
Someone cleared his throat loudly and the playful lovers turned to see that Snowy had rejoined the assembled group "Well you two are looking much happier now."
"Indeed Master Whyte, I do believe the lovers' tiff is at an end." The sweet old Vicar's face light up as it always did when Snowy was in the vicinity. The boy had a wondrous way of making the whole world light up.
"Daddy was called out, Vicar, but he asked me to send you his best wishes. I do wish he would get a new car." Snowy said as he wiped clean his greasy hands on his handkerchief, but any debate about the merits of vintage cars was interrupted by the return of a very angry Mrs. Whyte
"Well I think Pricilla will be fine, no thanks to you," Mrs Whyte added scowling at Damien Smyke. She was about to heap further abuse upon his head when she remembered her ecclesiastical visitor and thought better of it.
"Vicar you will have to excuse me but luncheon has to be simple today I have so much to prepared for our trip to London -- the Surgeon General's Ball at the Savoy next Saturday, - don't you know!" You could see the silly woman preening herself as she bragged about her hand-me-down invitation.
"It smells wonderful Mrs Whyte." The Vicar reassured her as the Doctor's second wife led them into the dinning room.
"Oh it is just a ready made meal from M&S I was planning my special Toad-in-the-Hole - you know I make it with actual Toad!" The Vicar offered up a silent prayer at their narrow escape from another of Mrs. Whyte's culinary assaults.
Pricilla rejoined the company having changed into something less ostentatious. Her face was still red from crying but she was unwilling to miss a meal and the opportunity to ogle the Vicar's young nephew.
"I hear you are joining your parents, Pricilla," the Vicar said in a friendly way to the fat ugly girl, "and I hear you are spending the night..."
"And leaving poor ol' Snowy all alone..." Damien grumbled under his breath.
"Oh that reminds me, Vicar can you recommend a sensible sitter that can spend the night here?" Mrs. Whyte enquired as she loaded Pricilla's plate with a double helping of lasagne.
"Oh, a babysitter for our little Pygmalion? Now that will have to be the very best..." Revered Prim pondered.
"See, I told you, you are a pig...." Pricilla sneered triumphantly at her stepbrother.
"Pygmalion is not a pig, Pricilla," the vicar corrected the stupid girl, "Pygmalion was an ancient Greek who, unhappily, fell in love with a statue he had made. He prayed to Aphrodite to breathe life into and ivory image."
"Huh?" The girl blinked dumbly at this classical erudition, failing to see what Snowy could have to do with ivory statues.
"Snowy here has been changing lives in much the same way." The old priest's eyes misted over briefly, then he beamed proudly at the blond boy, much to the annoyance of the boy's stepmother. "I can't believe what he has done for these three young fellows here."
"A sitter, for next weekend, Vicar?" the woman redirected him to return to the point of her enquiry.
"Well, he is usually book up months in advance, but if you want the best it will have to be Richard Flaunting-Flasher."
"He is the Regimental Sargent-Major's son, isn't he?" The look of approval on Pricilla's piggy face revealed an altogether unhealthy interest in Richard Flaunting-Flasher.
"Yes, indeed Pricilla, he lives with his parents at the Army Barracks off the High Street. Fine military family." The Reverend Prim informed them.
"Richard Flaunting-Flasher?" Mrs. Whyte repeated. "Is he reliable?"
"Rock solid. The strange thing is the children he sits are as happy as the parents. I'm not sure how he does it." The vicar said, not entirely truthfully. "That is why he is usually booked up for weeks in advance."
"Well I shall have to give him a call," Said Mrs Whyte helping Pricilla to a large helping of seconds. Fortunately, she did not notice the knowing grins on the faces of the four boys - they had all heard of what made Dick Flaunting-Flasher such a hit the children he sat.
"Cool!" exclaimed Snowy under his breath.
After a long and passionate snog, Damien Smyke finally let up and, sitting on Osbert Prim's chest looked at him intensely. Damien affectionately brushed the blond, rather unkempt, shoulder-length hair from his friend's forehead then caressed his downy, thirteen-year-old cheek. Osbert's steel-rimmed glasses, which were always crooked, were all steamed up from the ardent kiss.
Snowy had the opportunity to examine his two friends - the thirteen-year-old nephew of the Vicar and his unlikely choice of lover, the notorious thug and hooligan, Damien Smyke. Snowy knew Smyke could be mean and nasty if he wished to, but right now, as the three friends lay on Osbert's bed, still dressed in their school uniforms, hugging and caressing each other, there was little in his gentleness to show how he had earned the nickname -- Grumpy. Happy as he was to be playing sexy games with them, Snowy sensed a tinge of sadness -- after all - they were a couple and Snowy had still not found his special someone.
It was Friday, the last day of school was over and the long summer-holidays stretched happily before them. It was, moreover, the day before Snowy's eleventh birthday. It had been Dopey's idea that they get Snowy across to Bashful's home - Friday being his mothers' Bridge-drive afternoon --for a happy birthday snog!
But, regrettably, one of the Pratt offspring became ill and poor old Dopey was asked to stay home, thus missing a sexy romp with his mates.
Grumpy closed his eyes and allowed his instincts to take over. He kneeled forward and bent in towards Bashful, planning to plant a further kiss on the boy's lips, but Snowy, smiling devilishly, twisted his face in the path of Grumpy's advancing lips and intercepted them before they reached their target -- the boys' mouths met breathlessly. It was perfect! Bashful squealed in mock protest as Grumpy felt Snowy's lips, twisting in an impish smile.
Snowy felt Damien Smyke pressing harder against his lips. The more mature lad's lips were amazingly soft considering the rough and rugged past he had endured and Snowy felt the not unwelcome jabs of his tongue pressing towards his teeth. Snowy's pink lips widened, and he felt a tongue press against his clenched teeth. They remained like this for a moment, massaging each other's lips -- playful yet intimate. Finally, Snowy gave way and Smyke suddenly found his tongue inside the young boy's enthusiastic mouth.
Damien Smyke, who had once been the remorseless scourge of Windsor and surrounding districts - the lad who had never previously shown the least sense of guilt for his criminal record - could now only thinking of how deliciously naughty he was being - tasting the inside of the blond child's mouth and slapping his tongue against the boy's tonsils. Snowy was pleased Damien Smyke had allowed his shaved-head to grow a crop of hair, which he still kept short. Thankfully, his eye allergy and nasty case of acne had cleared up very well.
"W-W-Wicked..." Bashful stammered a compliment. The kiss was a good one, even if it was a stolen snog that should have been planted on his own kisser!
He watched his lover's fifteen-year-old dick swell to its full length in his grey-flannel school trousers and he started caressing the bulge that rested on his chest. He heard Damien groan in appreciation. Then the friends finally broke the snog, leaving a saliva spoor behind on each other's faces. Slowly Grumpy got off Osbert's chest and stood next to the bed as he stripped off his school shirt for the last time until the end of the school holidays.
"Oh...err!" Osbert blushed and stammered. Damien remained in extremely good shape- only five-foot tall, but hardened but frequent physical violence, but his hard, hairless chest and prominent brown nipples always got Bashful horny. However no matter how often Osbert had sex with his friends, he was remained painfully shy.
Grumpy grinned at his two playmates, well pleased at how well Dopey's plan for an after-school romp to cerebrate the end of school, and Snowy's eleventh birthday was working out. He instructed the two friends to remove their school uniforms.
"Why should we do that?" Snowy asked with feigned innocence, but a naughty twinkle in his blue eyes told his friends that he knew exactly why they should strip off.
"Well, mate unless you wants me ta rip your bleedin' clothes off ya..." Giving them a mock rendition of the nasty, mean Yob he once had been.
"Better not rip my pants," Snowy said, smiling up at the older boy, "or I'll have to go home naked."
"Well yer might make us lotsa new mates ta play wiv.." Smyke teased. "Now off wiv 'em!"
"Oh you shameless naughty boy..." Snowy jeered. "Oh by the way, speaking of new friends, is it true what they say about Dick Flaunting-Flasher, the guy who is sitting me tomorrow?"
"W-w-well, I am not s-s-sure you should think of h-h-him as n-n-new friend f-f-for this t-t-type of f-f-fun. His d-d-dad is a p-p-pompous o-o-old a-a-army f-f-fart and Dick is a r-r-real c-c-creep."
"Yeah, an' wots more `e's got `imslef a bird, ain't `e." Smyke added with a look of total distaste that a boy could be bothered with a useless thing like a girl friend. "An arse-creep is all good an' well, but `e wont be creeping up me arse I don't fink."
Snowy giggled, but he still found himself wondering what he was in for on the following day. "Yes, but is it true about what happens when he sits kids?"
"Hell, yeah! `is name should be Sleeping-Beauty not Flaunting-Flasher! `e arrives on va job, nods off, and only wakes up if va kids really takes va place apart! Then `e always wakes up before va parents gets back, like, and ven `e like fixes all va shit up! Why, we could a `ad yer birfday bonk in front a `im an' all an' `e woulda slept through va `ole bleedin' fing, `e would!" And so saying, Smyke slapped Osbert's bum sharply and added: " Oy, get `em off mate, me dick is `ot for action, yer knows!"
"A-a-as S-S-Snowy is the b-b-b-birthday b-b-boy tomorrow he s-s-s-should s-s-say what we s-s-s-should do, b-b-b-bossy-boots."
Grumpy smiled happily as he removed his pants while the younger lads stripped off their shirts. Playfully, Bashful tugged Snowy's school flannels off as the petite boy squealed his objection. Grumpy stripped off his underwear and stood naked in front of his friends. Bashful stared at his lover's hard four and a half inch cock, which pointed upwards from the middle of his thighs. He scratched his balls, belched in a rather rude manly way, ran his fingers through his gingerish pubic-bush, then farted noisily!
"Oh...err!" The thirteen-year-old stammered before playfully stripping off Snowy's white y-fronts.
Osbert and Damien both leaned closer to examine their little friend's cock, which couldn't have been, much more than three inches long. It was a thing of extraordinary beauty -- no matter how many times they has seen it before, the smooth alabaster-erection always caused their hearts to beat a little faster. His penis thin, narrow at the base, swelled slightly before tapering to a tiny reddish-pink cherry-shaped tip, covered with a thick sheath of an overly long foreskin, the delicate blue veins plainly visible under the translucent-white skin. Beneath his throbbing hard cock, his testicles seemed tiny, small rounded nuts in a crumpled pouch. The boy's pubis was rounded and prominent, and perfectly smooth, without even the smallest trace of hair -- evidently, even if he turned eleven the following day, the full onset of puberty was still some time hence.
"Cor, bet Dopey would be sucking on vat in a flash, mate!" Said Grumpy in approval. "Bet `e don't know what `e is missing out on." When the three friends were a little sad that little Peter would had to drop out of the fun of giving Snowy a very sexy time to say Happy Birthday.
"Y-y-you are a-a-as l-l-lovely as y-y-you a-a-are n-n-nice!" Bashful said sincerely.
"Oh don't be silly," said Snowy his ears going quiet pink!
"Well, mate, Osbert is right, ain't `e. It is your birfday, so, what is it gonna be?"
"Can I tell you to do anything?" Snowy grinned cockily.
"Oh...err, I-I-I s-s-suppose s-s-so!" Osbert faltered, a little nervous of what their little friend might have up his sleeve.
"Well Bashful, you nibble on Grumpy's titties!" He knew how much his friend loved Smyke's lean, hard body.
Bashful moved in quickly to lap at Grumpy's hard left nipple. He attacked the protuberance with his pink tongue - saliva adding to the sensation. He looked up at Grumpy as he moved the warm suction from one nipple to the other. Bashful checked Grumpy' facial expression as he moaned and rolled his eyes back in pleasure. The thirteen-year-old boy cackled playfully and bit down playfully into Grumpy's nipple. Grumpy emitted a low cry and threw his hands back to support himself on the wall behind him.
Hopping off the bed, Snowy knelt on the floor and he started getting frisky with his hands, running them down Grumpy's sides and then over, around, and across his hard abdomen. Snowy felt his own cock, still confined in his school trousers, beg for attention as he traced the firm lines of muscle with his tiny fingers.
"You're so bleedin' hot, mate" Grumpy howled. Bashful was now breathing hard as he had hardly ever taken his mouth from Smyke's chest.
"You should see the view from down here," Snowy countered with a titter of laughter, "now that is really hot!"
"Pull down your pants, Osbert..." Grumpy commanded, forgetting briefly that Snowy was in charge. "We want ta see vat beautiful bum o' yours."
Snowy kneeled upright for a moment and smiled as he reached up to Bashful's waist to help him strip. Unfortunately, he had his face a little too close to the lad's crotch, and as the school trousers fell, Bashful's fully erect 5.14 inch cock snapped up, not held back by underwear, and rudely slapped against Snowy's nose.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed in surprise. He had expected to see Bashful's cock only after getting rid of the y-front briefs he normally wore.
Snowy's eyes gazed at the sheerness of the smooth boy's joystick and the wide and dripping glans. Bashful's developing balls were squashed between his thighs. Some how he snapped out of his cock-happy trance and, extending his hand he looked up with a question in his eyes.
"G-g-go a-a-ahead," the teenager encouraged, in a blur of lust. "It's a-a-all y-y-y-yours." Snowy understood and gave it a timid squeeze. Damien started to whimper as Snowy's hand felt its hardness, then the fleshy scrotum that held his balls. Finally, altering his grip, Snowy slid his hand down and started to wank off the hard cock ever so slowly.
Bashful leaned back and groaned immediately as the young boy's cool hand started stroking his most precious muscle. Snowy reached down and grabbed his own stone-hard three-and-a-quarter-incher, with his left hand, careful not to apply sufficient pressure, to cause him to have one of his frequent dry-cums.
"Well, Snowy, you gave me one of va best I bleedin' `andjobs I ever `ad, mate," Smyke commended the young boy's enthusiasm, "so show `im `ow good you are at wanking!"
While Damien was happy to admire Snowy's techniques, he was getting a bit anxious not to miss out on the fun so he asked: "If you gonna do vat, mate, what am I supposed to do?"
"Well, why don't you get to work on Osbert's bum?"
"Cor, brilliant! Great idea, mate," he enthused and set too it.
Snowy tossed Bashful rather expertly, having learned how to handle a cock, almost double the size of his own. Bashful was producing a lot of pre-cum, as he always did, and while it was usually enough lubricant, the bottom of this shaft was getting too dry for Snowy to do a good job. He stopped jerking and brought the hand to his mouth and he sucked on each finger, slobbered into the palm, getting it nice and wet with saliva. Interestingly enough, this licking provided Snowy with the first hint of what Bashful's hard boyhood might taste like, should he ever pluck up the courage to have ago at sucking it.
Damien Smyke, meanwhile, was delighted with the task assigned to him -- both he and Osbert were fixated with boys' bums. Most of their shared masturbatory fantasies were spent contemplating the joy of stroking a boy's bottom or admiring the delicate pink or brown folds around the hole. Sometimes while masturbating under the cover of their anoraks, something they did often these days, they would fantasise about installing a secret camera in the lavatory bowl of a boys' school, and admiring the passing parade of holes of different shapes; sizes; colours; and conditions of cleanliness or hairiness.
Grumpy looked lovingly at Bashful's bottom-cheeks, so tight and well sculpted -- the result of all that energetic exercise tramping over countryside in pursuit of his anorak hobby -- orienteering! His right-hand travelled a path to Osbert's arse. He caressed the full cheeks of his bottom -- then he slid the hand into the deep valley and fingered the outer limit of the tiny hole there. Grumpy's finger stroked the puckered, dark-pink ring then he absentmindedly brought the finger to his nose and sniffed at the aroma of his lovers unwashed anus -- he sighed contentedly.
How he loved the smell of a boy's bum! How often had he and Osbert exchanged sniffs of each other's finger sometimes when they were even good and brown! This, the rough, street-fighter lad had to admit, was a much more agreeable skill than the violence he had once been notorious for.
His finger found its way back to the hole - trying this time to push its way past the warm entrance. His finger passed the first opening the pressed on the sphincter which yielded to gentle but incessant pressure. Leaning in to his job his nose was less than a half inch from the boy's bum-hole and his rosy-red cheek rested on the ivory cool bum-cheek of his thirteen-year-old lover. The penetration of his anal cavity caused Osbert to involuntarily expel a short but pungent blast of foetid air!
"Wicked fart, mate!" Grumpy exclaimed in pleasure, his sinuses were filled with the aroma of Bashful's musky anal-aromas.
"Now kiss his hole, Grumpy, right were he poops from!" Finding this intensely funny, Snowy chortled away.
Being the sweet naive boy he was - Snowy expected a groan of protest from Grumpy as he continued to work away at their friend's stick. He heard none! Just the slobbering sound of lips making contact with an anus!
"Oh... err!" Bashful responded as if he had been subjected to an electric shock!
Never before had Grumpy kissed his hole.
Fingering it -- yes! Nuzzling it -- definitely! But, actually attacking it with his lips?
And what was this...? Yes! It felt like a tongue! This was entirely new dimension to their lovemaking. Bashful felt his cock throb violently and an extra generous splash of pre-cum added to the lubricant in Snowy's hand!
Thankfully, Grumpy's lengthy experience with bloody lips arising from fights, had taught him how to breathe through his nose for long periods of time. There was no way he knew what he was doing had a name and that it was called rimming, he thought he had invented something some great new way of indulging his nasty fascination with bum-holes. He was doubly gratified when he realised, from the violent jerking of Osbert's body that he was sending his beloved, to extraordinary new heights of pleasure.
His face smeared with saliva and the occasional discharge of anal-mucus, he pulled his face away briefly to re-cover his breath. Osbert's bum was giving off a funky, fantastic fragrance! He plunged his finger -- down to the knuckle - back into the spittle-soaked and pulsing anus.
He saw the swaying sac of Osbert's balls, still completely free of pubic-hairs. With his mouth, Grumpy tried to clamp down on Bashful's ball-sack as it swung back and forth to the rhythm of Snowy's skilled tossing. Most times he failed, but when it worked, Bashful would squirm to regain his freedom, Damien Smyke playfully getting to nibble or just plain lick the backside of his balls.
"D-d-damn you, S-S-S-Snowy Whyte, m-m-m-make m-m-me c-c-cum." Bashful wheezed -- while his anus and scrotum felt like they were on fire.
The little blond birthday-boy reached down to feel Osbert's balls -- they had tightened up nicely and he set to bringing things to a climax.
Behind him Smyke lowered one finger from the sweaty nuts and dug inward, teasing rubbing the top of his arse-crack. Osbert Prim's cream filled nuts were certainly on the brink of boiling over. Grumpy's finger pistoned in and out - as hard as he could into the velvety depths of Bashful's warm bottom.
It was all too much for the nerdy youth - with a shuddering gasp and a long drawn out groan -- Osbert Prim came!
A single powerful shot of thin, watery stuff fired out of Bashful's slit and basted Snowy's face and hands! Bashful rocked and twitched in as if he were being shocked by millions of volts of ecstasy.
Snowy let out a gurgling laugh, as six further weaker shots followed: one only just barely made contact with Snowy's chin, the next shot against the boy's hand, and the rest dribbled out -spurt after slow spurt.
Slowly, very slowly Osbert Prim returned to earth.
He saw Snowy glancing down at his own little, three inch, pink penis throbbing frantically, hard, hairless and childish - yet excited by unremitting lust. He turned to see his lover Damien Smyke his face a mess of saliva and slime - Smyke's was fisting his own furry pubescence!
"W-w-w-what w-w-was t-t-that you d-d-did t-t-to my b-b-bum?" He stammered.
"He-he-he," Smyke laughed lecherously, "a little somefing I dreamed up, did ya like it, mate?"
Snowy mean time was licking thoughtfully at the watery discharge on his fingers and hands.
Bashful watched him do this with an ear-to-ear grin. Seeing this, Snowy stopped licking, looked down at the bigger boy's cock, then back at Bashful before smiling himself.
"Gosh, Bashful, I am surprised that you are still hard after that great cum." Snowy said with undisguised sincerity. "Do you think you can... you know... cum again?"
"W-w-what d-d-did you h-h-have in m-m-m-mind?" Osbert asked, but he had pretty good idea, judging by the indication on Snowy's face as he licked up a trail of watery cum from his fingers.
"Well... I suppose I can't put it off forever and ever..." Snowy said, half in jest and half-sad at his loss of innocence. "I suppose I have to do it sometime... and well... it might as well be you..." he sighed, resigned to a fate that was giving him butterflies in his little tummy.
From his kneeling position, all Snowy could really see was the swollen head - the pretty thing shining bright pink - and the poor boy's slit gaping open with hardness and still leaking a final drop of boyish cum. Down around the base, Snowy saw the exciting, wiry bush of pubic hairs. He took a firm hold of the cock's shaft with his cum-wet hand, then leaning forward his lips paused a half inch from Bashful's winking cock slit.
"I suppose you are going to try and stop me?" Snowy said a little wistfully, almost hoping one of the boys would say something.
"N-n-no Snowy, I-I-I am n-n-n-not."
"Didn't think so." Snowy blinked up at his older friend, and he caressed Bashful's hairless nuts with his free hand.
"Bloody oath, if yer wants ta do it mate, go for it!" Grumpy exploded as he watched the birthday-boy preparing to suck his first cock.
Snowy had read about it, of course; seen his friends performing oral sex; and experienced it himself at the hands of little Dopey - in short, he had a pretty good idea of what would make his friend feel good.
Uncharacteristically, Bashful grabbed the back of Snowy's head, running his hands through the blonde hair, as the boy carefully wrapped his wet lips around the fleshy glans and the sweet mouth swallowed more and more of his cock.
Both Dopey and Grumpy had sucked Bashful on pervious occasions, but neither had been as gentle or as determined to give his tool so thorough a blowjob.
Snowy's saliva dribbled down the sides of the last two inches that his lips couldn't gobble down. He was so much enjoying the taste of Osbert's cock, that he needed to remind himself to move up and down since sucking was all about friction.
Snowy, meanwhile, keep looking up into Bashful's eyes - this was hard to do, with a pretty cock slamming past his gums. From the ecstatic expression on Bashful's face this was serious fun!
The young blond child licked around the rim of the cockhead, while it was lodged inside his mouth and he concentrated on administering as many cock-sucking sensations to the firm shaft as he could.
Snowy's body appeared so graceful as he sucked cock.
Grumpy had difficulty coping with the beauty of the vision of this gorgeous child's head bobbing frantically up and down on his lover's prong. He stood jerking his own throbbing cock waiting for his next instruction.
"Am I doing this okay, Bashful?" Snowy asked, finally coming up for air and some reassurance. He reckoned the taste of Bashful's cock would linger for days.
"Son of a bitch, you're ace at suckin' an' wankin', mate!" Smyke asserted.
Pushing the boy back towards his young, teen-meat, which bounced up and the bonked him squarely on his cute nose.
"Ouch!" Snowy moaned, "that's the second time!"
Bashful laughed, reached out a soothing finger and caressed the top of Snowy's cute little hooter. The message was clear, even if Bashful could not trust his trembling lips to speak it.
Bashful held Snowy tight, and fed the cock back into his mouth. Snowy's hands ran over the smooth globes of Bashful's buttocks, curious to feel what Smyke had been doing to him behind there. Within seconds he felts his whole index finger slip unhindered inside Bashful's arse.
"Goodness, gracious me, Bashful, your bum hole is wide open!"
"Yeah, I did a bleedin' good job!"
"It is all soft and ... hmmm... asking for something..."
"Yeah me tongue back up `is bum, mate!" Snowy's cock spasmed! It was as if some wicked thought had entered his mind that was so hot that it had caused his to have a dry cum without even touching his hard shaft.
"No, not that" Snowy stated in an incredibly relaxed tone, "Grumpy have you ever thought... you know... of putting your willy up there...."
"Fuckin' wicked idea, mate" Damien Smyke exclaimed in heartfelt approval of the idea!
"Oh.. err." Said Osbert, after all it was his bottom they were discussing.
"Yes, I suppose it would be... you know... the f --word..." Snowy admitted. Then a bit more resolutely he instructed: "Grumpy you must, bonk Bashful in the bottom." He blushed scarlet at the rude word and as if prevent another rude word coming out of it, he plunged Bashful's cock back in his mouth!
"Oh... err!" Osbert stammered as he bent slightly forward down and offered his hole up for Grumpy's cock. The sight made Grumpy's dick jump to its full length.
Now Damien Smyke was not particularly well endowed, his cock when fully erect, was only four inches long, - smaller than even thirteen-year-old, Bashful's, however, what Damien's cock lacked in length, it made up for in thickness. It was a chubby short cock with a fleshy bulbous head, peaking out from under a short but thick foreskin. He had fat balls in a tight furry sack and a wiry ginger bush of pubic hair surmounted the whole organ. But big or small, Bashful was more than ready and willing for round two.
From where Snowy kneeled sucking on Osbert he saw Damien ran his hand over his stubby cock, a few times, teasing Snowy but the birthday boy was in no mood to be toyed with - he removed Bashful's dick briefly and said:
"Come on now, Grumpy, stop messing about! I want to see Bashful stuck on that nasty willy of yours."
"Oh w-w-wow! T-t-that is r-r-really w-w-wicked!" Osbert sniggered.
" 'and me vat stool thingy, mate." Snowy obliged and slid the small wooden stool that he used to reach his cupboards over to Grumpy who stood on, to get at least some semblance of a straight line between the taller Bashful's inviting young bum and the short Grumpy's hard cock. Grumpy wrapped his hands around Bashful's hips and moved forward, running the length of his four inches across Snowy's crack as if to forewarn the anxious thirteen-year-old of what he was in for.
Grumpy leaned over and hocked some spit onto his flaring glans, and distributed it as generously as he could over the rest of his iron-like shaft. Bashful moaned as his lover's hands lovingly pried open his buttocks. Bashful had never been fucked before -- neither the boy scouts, nor the guys at his high school, nor even his beloved orienteering club, had offered the opportunity for this kind of sexual pleasure. He spat again and used it to carefully anoint two fingers, which he fitted inside Osbert's rump. It was soon obvious to Snowy that Bashful had never taken that much inside at once.
"Ouch, it b-b-burns a b-bit..." Osbert complained, but he still wiggled to get more of the fingers inside.
"Sorry, Mate" Grumpy tried to reassure him, and rotated the two fingers in an ever widening circle, attempting to stretch the sensitive passage. At this point, Bashful was thankful Grumpy was smaller than average in the cock department. With out warning, Grumpy transferred his pinky inside. It went in with only the slightest of grimaces from Bashful, who quickly got adjusted to what was inside of him.
"Three fingers up ya! Vat ain't bad!" Grumpy argued.
"Ooh, it's t-tingling in every such a n-nice w-way," Osbert Prim reported thrusting his anus down on Smyke's fingers. "You d-don't h-have to be too g-gentle..."
"Alright ven, yer right `orny ain't yer?" Damien Smyke laughed. "Yer ready for it?" Bashful nodded. "Okay, matey let me shag yer."
Snowy squealed in delight, a string of saliva broke across his teeth, as he parted from the hard five-incher.
Grumpy aimed his wet glans at the by now, slightly wider hole and thrust gently. His cock had never seemed very imposing, but when Bashful wheezed a yelp of pain as the head was passed the elastic ring, the boys all knew this bonking stuff wasn't child's play. He held steady for a few seconds shifting his cock to left and right, in the stubbornly tight arsehole.
"You okay, mate?" he asked.
"It's g-good," Bashful said as he winced, "m-more."
Grumpy gave him another inch. He could see Bashful wasn't enjoying it yet, but it was also obvious that his lover was smart enough to know that it was getting better all the time.
He waited a few minutes until eventually Bashful smiled back at him, giving him the "all clear" that he was ready to romp! Grumpy spanked Bashful's full arse and laughed.
"Cor Blimey, mate `ow did ya get viz big a `ole in yer bum?"
"You c-can g-go for it..." Bashful stammered, his voice thick with lust.
A string of saliva broke across his teeth, as he parted from the hard five-incher and Snowy Whyte smiled broadly, he loved it when a plan worked out well! Then diverting his attention from their friend's bum-hole, he returned to his part of Osbert's sexual experience.
Snowy moved in for an extravagant finale - impatient to find out what a full boy-load tasted like. Craning his neck higher, he arranged his face directly above Bashful's vertical cock, forming the optimal angle - the geometry lessons from his tutors were useful after all!
Snowy took a firm hold on the last two or three inches he couldn't previously accommodate, and opening wide, impaled his mouth on Bashful's dick with one resolute thrust. The glans smacked against Snowy's tonsils, causing the boy to gag briefly! But Snowy made a small adjustment and the extra inch jammed its way into his mouth.
Meanwhile, Grumpy gently pulled back several inches but didn't pull out completely. He was apprehensive -- if he pulled out completely would Bashful let him back in again? He thrust back in.
Bashful wailed, but the grimace was quickly replaced by that same look of contentment he had worn after he unloaded into Snowy's hands. Grumpy dug into the teenager's hips, drew-back and shove-forward again. This time, Bashful did not flinch at all.
Grumpy did it again but faster; then again, faster yet; within minutes, he was steadily bonking Osbert Prim with all four inches of his meagre manhood. Bashful rolled his head from side to side, seemingly lost in the magical unison of anal and oral sex.
"H-hell... oh s-shit, I can feel it so d-deep inside of me," he cried out. "It's l-like... it's as if... something's missing when you pull it back."
"Viz is bleedin' fantastic, I'm stuffin' it in yer poop, I fink. Ya likes feelin' me dick way up in yer gut, huh?"
"Oh.. Err.... It's wicked, Damien."
"Yer wants me ta give yer more?" Grumpy was covered in sweat. He thrust a little harder, spread Bashful's cheeks a little further, and penetrated a little deeper into Bashful's chock-full bottom.
"Gimme more! Gimme more!" Bashful was producing purring noises accompanying every thrust from front or rear. Grumpy's cock was overworking his virgin prostate. Bashful had been completely unaware of the prostate's mystical pleasures before this fuck. Hell, he didn't even know he had one! He just reckoned a boner in the bum might make his hole feel nice and full -- it did, and then some - but he was unprepared for this secret pleasure-gland - he knew he would be longing for this daily.
Bashful was, by now, wholly animal - thrusting back onto Grumpy's cock just as hard as Grumpy was bouncing forward.
"Fuck me!" Osbert Prim howled his voice breaking as it often did when the thirteen-year-old was aroused -- but there was something else - something altered about his voice.
"I'm doin' it, luv! I'm doin' it!" Grumpy called as he tore into Bashful's backside.
""Aarrgh, Grumpy... oh.... Snowy!" Snowy looked up to meet Bashful's eyes. He suddenly knew what was different. "Where the fuck did you two learn how to do this?" Osbert Prim called out.
"Does ya wanna ta take me sperm up yer arse?"
"Yes!" Osbert Prim hissed! Snowy now heard very clearly that the young teen was no longer stuttering!
"I'm gonna cum, lad!" Grumpy roared, as four generous blasts of cum crashed against Bashful's prostate gland, before slowly spiralling around the lad's spent member and oozing in a slimy trail onto his trembling scrotum.
This set off Bashful's young cock, stretched to its maximum length, ached between Snowy's wonderful lips.
"Oh Snowy, I'm gonna shoot!" Osbert Prim yelled. Snowy's sucks swooping up and down, achieved a well-timed pattern, as if to a frantic, rhythmic beat -- coaxing and squeezing Bashful's balls, to release their young seed.
Bashful's second load was smaller than his first pent-up tidal wave, but two shots of watery, salty load fired deep into Snowy's gullet and squirted against the back of his throat.
Snowy climaxed almost simultaneously, he had been rubbing his penis between Bashful's knobbly-knees. The boy in the centre of the lad sandwich squeezed him off, to a shuddering, dry climax. The birthday boy now set about working the rest of Bashful's cum out with his hands, keeping his mouth wide open above the discharge of goo. He let out a gurgling laugh as spurt after spurt basted his tongue.
Snowy closed his mouth and moaned in unison with Bashful and Grumpy. Slowly, he savoured and swallowed his prize. Bashful's cum tasted tangy!
"I am a not sure about this," Bashful said, between laboured breaths - at length he, just like his cock, seemed to have calmed down, "but I'm wondering if you two were trying to kill me there?"
"Don't wonder, luv" Grumpy replied swiftly, "just snog us, Bashful."
And Bashful did just that - cradling Snowy in his left arm, he kissed all over that angelic face, from his forehead, down to his chiselled chin - he took the Grumpy in the crook of his right arm and pressed his downy-soft cheek to the older boy's lips.
Snowy stayed plastered against Bashful's face, Grumpy's body and both older lads' flaccid and sodden dicks, for a good three minutes - not saying a word - just enjoying the moment. He felt as if two overly affectionate family pets had pounced upon him: licking him; slobbering; nuzzling him till the little boy was covered head to toe in delicious gooseflesh.
Bashful's noticed that Grumpy's finger was still firmly lodged in his throbbing bum. He stumbled around, almost dislodging the finger, but then he regained strength in his legs and found, to his surprise, that he could stand unaided once again!
Damien Smyke held Osbert Prim, his ideal lover, close for a long time. His index finger wiggled and caressed the cum-filled, velvety interior of the thirteen-year-old anal-canal. With a free hand he kept supporting Snowy's perspiring rear to balance the boy. He felt such a fondness for Snowy and Bashful that he had to concede he loved them both! They had woken parts of this once despised and rejected fellow that had changed him forever. An uncomfortable wetness was affecting his eyes. He swallowed hard and felt compelled to crack a joke to lighten his spirits. Grumpy removed his finger from Osbert's bottom and looked at it -- it was a rather interesting shade of slimy-brown.
"I been wondering which one a yer gonna volunteer to pop me cherry for me?" Grumpy said matter-of-factly as he took a taste of the butt-basted finger. After seeing the effect it had had on Bashful, it was a rite of passage he was now keenly anticipating.
"God," Bashful said, softly kissing Smyke's earlobe and neck, "I'll do it in a flash, mate!"
"Bashful," Snowy asked slowly, "have you noticed something?"
"No what?" asked Osbert confidently.
"You have stopped stuttering!"
"Damn! You are right!"
"Cor! Bashful do, yer fink it's me cock up yer bum wot done it?"
"Damien, my friend I am sure it is!" Snowy smiled that devilish smile again.
"And I think I will need all the repeat treatments I can get. Even if we were to do it all the time, it may not be enough!" Bashful said to Grumpy with grin.
"You've got a fine arse, mate. I'm gonna be shagging ya every chance I gets."
"Oh...err!" Bashful blushed, but for the first time in his life, he did not stammer when he said this.
There was no way, on the evidence of one's eyes, that you would guess that Tomas Flaunting-Flasher was only sixteen years old. If he stood up straight -- and he seldom did this, his hunched-up shoulders seemed constantly borne down by worry or sin or both - he was over six foot four inches tall. His mournful, angular face looked much, much older.
The scrawny teenager arrived, on time, early on Saturday morning wearing an extra large army-surplus camouflage anorak. As he walked up the hallway to the morning room, Snowy hung back in the shadows to study his sitter for the next 24 hours. There was a great deal to take in!
Dick seemed to Snowy to be made up of abnormally long arms; lanky legs; dirty size-14-trainers; and shovel sized hands -- in one of which he carried an oddly small black zip-up bag. But Snowy stared longest at the extraordinarily long bony fingers, which topped off his hands.
"Now, Richard, we have left the telephone number of the Savoy on the hall-stand but short of death or pestilence do not disturb the Doctor and I."
"Yes Ma'am." The gawky lad spoke with almost an unctuous subservience.
"If the boy gives you any trouble whatsoever, you have my full permission to discipline him in anyway you see fit."
"Yes Ma'am." The teenager wrung his long fingers together in a way that made Snowy feel very uncomfortable indeed. Just then his bulky stepsister exploded into the room in a state of agitation.
"Oh mama, I can't find my left shoe, do come and help."
"And might I be permitted to express my humble opinion, Miss, that is a very handsome right shoe." The tall boy oozed in his smarmy tones.
"Why, thank you Mr. Flaunting-Flasher." A blush covered Pricilla's fat, spotty cheeks, "how very kind of you to comment, on them - they are for the ball, you know."
"I am sure you will look very magnificent indeed - you will be breaking hearts the whole evening, I am sure." Dick wrung his agitated hands as Pricilla drew in her fat belly as much as she could and heaved out her undeveloped bosom for the lad's inspection.
"What charming manners," The second Mrs. Whyte beamed. She was delighted at her good judgement in a sitter for the doctor's boy.
Snowy groaned inwardly. Dick Flaunting-Flasher really was dreadful. No wonder parents loved him - he was as grovelling and subservient as Uriah Heep himself!
Mrs. Whyte rushed up the stairs to help Pricilla with her packing leaving the two boys alone. They looked each other over with mounting suspicion. Then Dick held out a long, thin hand to the boy.
"Well young Snowy, I am sure we will be getting along splendidly." Dick smirked at the young boy as he shuffled from foot to foot. Snowy took the hand and held it briefly, it was as cold, moist and limp as a day-old lettuce-leaf.
"How-do-you do Dick." The pretty eleven-year-old said confidently.
"Ever so pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Whyte..." Dick remarked, in a rather Dickensian manner. Fortunately, for Snowy, the discussion was cut short by the arrival of the taxi and amid the chaos that ensued the poor boy, his birthday entirely unmentioned, slunk away to his room where he opened one of his beloved Beatrix Potter books.
Some hours later, once silence had once more descended upon "Once-Upon-a-Time", Snowy made his way to the morning room.
It was perfectly true! All he had been told about Richard Flaunting-Flasher was correct.
Stretched-out upon the faded Damask sofa, lay the substantial form of his sitter, fast asleep!
"Richard Flaunting-Flasher, my so-called baby-sitter." Snowy informed his slow-witted friend. "Really I could have set the house on fire and he would sleep though it. Why don't you come and see for yourself."
Snowy helped his friend out of his big dark-green anorak and they walked down the hall to the morning room, and there - sure enough - the lanky teenager lay curled up, in the foetal-position, like an overgrown baby, his long thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. As an inveterate thumb-sucker himself, Dopey found this immensely odd!
"Blimey, there sure is a lot of him, ain't there?" Said the little boy as he eyed the sleeping form.
"I'll say..." agreed Snowy. "Just look at these feet..." he lifted one of the size fourteen trainers for Dopey to inspect. "If we put a mast and a sail on one of these we could both go sailing around the lake."
"What is he like?" Dopey asked as he giggled nervously, half expecting to see the giant teen awake and clip them both around the ear-hole any second!
"A slimy toad, actually. He spent the morning sucking up to my stepmother and Pricilla, it was all I could do to keep my breakfast down."
"Before I forget, here are your presents, Snowy." Dopey said in his slow musical voice. "Happy birthday, mate, from Grumpy, Bashful, me bruvers and me!" and he handed over three brightly wrapped parcels.
"Oh Dopey!" Snowy's eyes filled with big fat tears of happiness. Wiping his nose on the sleeve of his shirt, he reached out for his diminutive friend, hugged him close, and gave him a very sloppy kiss full on the mouth.
"Oh, I say, should we be doing that in front of him?" Dopey said, as soon as he could breath once more, and he jerked his thumb at Dick.
"Oh heck yes!" Snowy exclaimed, tweaking the boy's very large earlobe, which resulted in only a weak grunt of displeasure. "I think we could all have had my birthday bonk on the carpet here in front of him and he would have slept through it."
Dopey giggled and hugged the birthday-boy tightly. "I am ever so sorry I missed out on that," he said with real sincerity in his grey eyes. "But I will make up for it some time..."
"You won't believe what Damien and Osbert did," Snowy said breathlessly, "they really did it...." Dopey gazed at his older friend blankly. "You know?" Still getting no look of comprehension from his friend, Snowy made a rude gesture plunging his forefinger into the balled fist of his other hand and explained: "Up the bum!"
"Oh... Err!" said Peter Pratt sounding very much like Bashful! "Did it hurt?"
"From the look on their faces, it seemed as if it was awesome!"
"Oh blimey, you have made me go all stiff." Dopey plucked at the front of his little pair of short blue pants as if to emphasise the problem.
"Me too," Snowy breathed into the light-brown hair of his friend and he nuzzled his ear.
"Well, you better open your presents first," said Dopey wrinkling his little button nose very mischievously.
Siting flat on the floral, Axminster-carpeted floor, Snowy opened each of the parcels in turn.
The problem with having anorak friends soon became evident.
While Snowy was very grateful to receive any presents at all, he failed to see what use he could ever have for an Ordinance-Survey Explorer Map Number 4567, showing in detail the section of Windsor Great Park in which "Once-upon-a-Time" stood. Bashful, like all true anoraks, was incapable of understanding someone who was not as passionately devoted to his hobby of orienteering and so he had bought his friend a gift he, himself, would have appreciated.
The same was true of Grumpy's gift. But Snowy had to admit there was something very touching about the fifteen-year-olds gift. The older boy had no money and so he had given up one of his precious football scrapbooks, the one that showed pictures of soccer players, giving compromising flashes of underwear or jockstraps under their football-shorts!
Snowy gulped emotionally and had to wipe a tear from his eye -- nasty mean Damien Smyke -- the terror of Windsor and surrounding districts, was prepared to give up one of his most prized possessions to his little mate, who had had such a profound influence on his life.
"There, there mate," said Dopey stroking his friend's steely-white hair affectionately, as Snowy battled to regain control of his emotions. "Why don't you try the last one, it is from Patrick, Pip and myself. Pip painted the gift wrap at nursery-school!"
Snowy vary cautiously opened the final parcel, careful not to tear the handiwork of his friend five-year-old brother. He was pretty certain it would be a stamp album or something equally useless -- after all, his other anorak friends had given him things they would have appreciated and Peter Pratt was a stamp-collecting anorak!
The parcel rather surprisingly contained two smaller parcels -- both wrapped hastily in newspaper.
"Open the bigger one first," said Dopey, giving Snowy a big buck-toothed grin.
With quivering fingers, Snowy removed the paper and took out a trio of framed photographs. Smiling up at him were rather blurred photographs of Patrick, Pip and Peter Pratt. Badly attached hinges joined the frames, so that the triple-frame could stand by itself. A childish hand had painted the wood in a gaudy-daisy pattern.
"Patrick made the frames in woodworking class and we all helped paint them."
"Oh Dopey, that is lovely!" Snowy swallowed down a sob.
"I took the photographs with daddy's Polaroid camera, these came out a bit blurred but the others are perfect!"
"What others?" Snowy asked. Peter Pratt giggled wickedly and took the triple-frame out of the blond boy's hands and deftly lifted out the three Polaroid photographs. Under the faces of the three bothers were three other, much more piquant, pictures of the boys.
"WOW!" Snowy exclaimed so loudly that even the sleeping form of his babysitter shifted uncomfortably in his deep slumber. With his hands trembling with titillation, Snowy took the gift from Dopey.
The fist image showed a close up of Dopey's sexual organs - Dopey's beautiful, two-inch, circumcised penis was erect and sticking straight out from his lower belly. His scrotum was relaxed, the delicate silky skin revealing the rounded and slightly elongated shapes of two very small testicles. He had stroked it so often, in his imagination Snowy could almost feel the firmness of his penile shaft and under the sensitive thin skin.
"It is beautiful, Dopey..." Snowy whispered as his eyes ran to the second photograph. He had only seen it twice before, once when they had wanked off together in the school bogs, but Snowy recognised Patrick Pratt's cock straight away.
Patrick Pratt, was a cocky twelve-year-old, with a handsome face - but it was his even more handsome genitals that looked up at Snowy from this photograph. The few wispy black hairs were hard to spot but visible on his chubby pubic mound. Patrick's thick penis was really very lovely - his pubescent balls had fattened nicely since last Snowy had seen them, and the exposed pink knob just begged to be caressed.
"Oh I bet you just love sucking on this..." Peter nodded his vigorous agreement, and pecked his friend on a cheek that was blushing furiously, in the onset of serious sexual excitement.
Then Snowy's attention drifted the third and final of the portraits.
The little boy in the picture still showed that sort of puppy fat that makes really young boys irresistibly cuddly. Below a rather tubby belly the v-shape of his pubic region was decorated by a very cute, tiny set of sexual organs!
There it was! Pip Pratt's exquisite, one-inch erection jutted out from his lower belly. His little boy's scrotum revealed no sign of the two very small testicles held within -- it was a smooth rounded-shape not unlike a flesh-coloured plum. Snowy longed to stroke the tiny pink glans -Pip Pratt was as neatly circumcised as his older brothers. The birthday boy felt a deep desire to run the tip of his tongue along the sponginess of the baby urethra that ran beneath the soft skin of the very beautiful miniature pee-pee.
Snowy's fingers drifted down and squeezed the hard organ that throbbed in his own trousers, this caused Dopey to squeal with undisguised pleasure -- the gift had had exactly the desired result. With his free hand, little Peter reached down to where he knew he would find the bulge of Snowy's plump little balls and he gave them a well-practised squeeze.
"Well it seems you like it..."
"Like it?" Snowy seemed to be gasping for breath. " I bloody love it!" In the heat of the moment he allowed a rude word to escape his lips. Little Peter thought he would wet his pants with merriment, no one he knew had ever heard Snowy Whyte say an imprudent word!
"You are meant to keep it on your desk then we can always smile at you and when you are feeling sexy you can slip off the top picture and smile at our things...." Dopey laughed heartily at the naughtiness of his own idea.
"Excellent!" Snowy said, filled with admiration that he could have such a naughty item openly on his desk - no one would ever think to look under the pictures!
Then Dopey added: "Pip is ever so jealous that Patrick and I have seen you cock. He said maybe, if you see his in a picture, you might want to show him yours and maybe rub pee-pees with him."
Snowy's mouth momentarily dried up from lust, but he managed to stammer: "I'd like that very much..." While the thought of playing with a boy as young as Pip was a little shocking, there was no mistaking that his cock thought it a very good idea indeed!
Dopey sniggered behind his hand then pointing to a vacant half hinge on the extreme left-hand-side of the triple frame he said: "And now for the naughty bit..."
"You mean anything can be naughtier than this?" asked Snowy incredulously. Dopey dissolved in fits of hysterical laughter, but managed to point to the final newspaper-wrapped present. Snowy unwrapped his final gift. A fourth picture-frame came into view. It had been made so that it would hook up with the left end of Patrick Pratt's picture.
At first Snowy was taken aback -- he had half expected to see a photograph of his friends Bashful and Grumpy, but it was a grown man that smiled back at him. The big-boned handsome man was stripped to his wait and held a large axe in his hands. A mass of jet-black curls covered both his head and his broad muscular chest. It took Snowy a few moments to realise it was the three boys' rugged labourer father.
"But... but that's your dad..." Snowy said a little shocked.
"Yes..." Dopey gasped out between bouts of tears and silly laugher.
"You... you don't mean...." Snowy was too aghast to even complete the question. "You... you didn't?" Dopey was now laughing so much, he was grasping at his crotch to prevent the urine escape his mirth-strained bladder.
"Oh no" He squealed helplessly "I'm going to wee-wee, I am laughing so much..."
Dreading the very worst, Snowy's trembling fingers withdrew the picture of the rugged forester-worker and yes indeed there was a picture under it!
"Now you can see both his choppers!" So saying, Dopey finally yielded to the pressure in his bladder, and Snowy grinned as he watched a darker blue patch spread slowly over the tight bulge in the little boy's shorts.
"He-he-he... I made a pee-pee..." Dopey laughed at the sort of silliness that only little boys can understand.
Snowy was by now so horny he desperately wanted to strip Dopey on the spot and do rude things to his dank crotch, but he could not believe what he saw before him! Somehow the Pratt boys had managed to include a Polaroid photograph of their father's very large hairy cock and balls in his birthday gift!
The photograph showed a side profile of a fat, plum-coloured cock head, flared-out like a large police helmet on top of a very solid policeman. His cock looked enormous. Far bigger than anything Snowy had seen in his medical dictionary - he rubbed his crotch reassuringly.
"WOW!" Snowy blurted out, a little too loud. Both boys froze to the spot! The sleeping giant on the damask sofa stirred; unwound from his foetal position; rolled onto his back and stretched-out full-length, so that his lower legs dangled over the armrest of the sofa. "How did you manage to get that?" Snowy whispered as the giant resumed snoring.
"Dad had a whole bunch of them in his bottom drawer where he kept the camera. Patrick and I found it then and we had a good want over them. That was what gave us the idea to give you pictures of our cocks too." Said Dopey softly, looking nervously at the huge sleeping lad.
"I wonder what your dad is doing taking pictures of his own dick?" Snowy pondered.
"I don't know, maybe it was so Mom wont forget it when he is away on a job at the other end of the estate." He chortled out loud, by now he was satisfied that the teenage sitter would, indeed, sleep though a nuclear attack.
"Well, it is a lovely gift Dopey. Please thank your brothers, I don't think I have ever had a gift that will give me more pleasure.." he said giving his crotch a lascivious rub, as if to emphasise his meaning.
"Let me see him! Please, let me see him..." Peter Pratt lunged enthusiastically at the hardness in his friend's trousers!
Dopey's fingers gripped Snowy's short pants and yanked them and his underpants, down to his knees in one swift motion. Then he pulled down his own shorts and showed his chum that he too, had a raging hard on. The blond boy's three-inch-and-a-quarter-inch penis pushed forward and brushed the younger boy's hand. Dopey's fingers wrapped around it, gripping the sleek organ. The boys sank onto the carpeted floor together and started to masturbate each other as they had often done before, oblivious to the gently snoring presence of the teenage sitter.
Dopey - an inveterate thumb-sucker - decided the time had come for him to do the one thing he knew he was truly excellent at. He bent his face towards Snowy's hard, boyish cock and planted a sloppy-wet kiss on the sweet-red knob that had slipped out from under the covers of its skin-coloured polo-neck sweater. Snowy gasped for breath as Dopey sucked away, taking only the head inside his mouth and carefully avoiding contact between the brace of steel that held his teeth in check.
Dopey must have sucked him for about five minutes, when Snowy's body suddenly started to tremble all over. With a low wail, he propelled the eight-year-old head down hard. He felt it pulsing as he dry-came in Dopey's mouth.
A short time later Snowy removed the boy's head from his groin. His dick was half-hard, wet and glistening. He had thoughtfully continued tossing dopey off as best he could during the blowjob and Dopey sat up smiling his slow-witted smile.
"Hmmm," he said, "it feels ever so sexy when you wank it, it must be the wee-wee on my little willy." The older lad's fingers floated across the sensitive tissue where his penis joined the urine soaked ball-bag. The perfect little tool appeared to grow even more rigid. Snowy disengaged the younger boy's hand from his own cock, then wrapping his legs around Dopey's naked thigh and he began to rub his own cock against Dopey's leg as he continued gently stroking Dopey short hardness. This humping position allowed him to whispered into the little boy's ear.
"I thought your wee would smell dirty, but it smells nice..." Snowy gasped in confidence to his little playmate.
As they were sharing their mutual enjoyment, they boys became emboldened to share thoughts about their boyish interest in other bodily functions. Dopey confessed that Patrick had once made a wee in his mouth, when they had been sucking each other off.
"Oh my," said Snowy, was it horrible, "I suppose it made you ill?"
"No, actually it was pretty radical." Dopey grinned impishly, "I swallowed it all."
"You didn't!" Snowy said wrinkling his nose in disgust.
"Tell me," Dopey asked, his voice breathless with excitement "when Bashful and Grumpy were, you know, taking it up the bum..." He paused unable to complete his question. From the thrashing of his legs, it was clear to Snowy that, for one so young, Dopey was really getting off on whatever was on his mind.
"Yes?" his mate encouraged him and kissed the buck-toothed boy on the cheek.
"Well," Dopey blushed very prettily, "did they get you know, poop on their things?"
"Oh yes..." said Snowy. Then he realised from the sudden urgency with which Dopey was masturbating him, that the little boy found this very exciting. "Bashful had just been to the loo before we started, so Grumpy's was all streaky-brown when he pulled it out." He whispered these rude words into his friend's little ear, while getting the lad to the point of shaking uncontrollably.
Dopey's rolled his eyes into the back of his head as he flopped back and forth.
"But when Bashful pulled his out of Grumpy, it was really gross all covered - you know - and wickedly smelly." Snowy continued driving the little boy crazy with this dirty story. The eight-year-old hips moved rhythmically, as Dopey assisted Snowy's motion with his own humping - rotating his pelvis and driving his little prong hard into the blond boy's palm as Dopey felt the gentle familiar, tingly sensation building in his dick and spreading to his tummy.
At about midnight, Snowy thought he heard something-strange downstairs. Drawing on his dressing gown, he carefully made his way downstairs. If it were a burglar the useless sitter would no doubt be sleeping though it. He had, after all, slept through a prolonged and rambunctious sexual-romp in the very room he was in.
It had been hours since Peter Pratt had left. The pair had both experienced a record number of dry climaxes and Snowy's cock was still a little raw and sore from too much friction and sucking.
Cautiously he walked down the corridor towards the study. An Army-surplus anorak was flung over the back of his dad's leather armchair. The small black case that he had brought with him lay unzipped on the floor and Dick was looking at a rectangular thing that held a shimmering video screen, a bit like a very flat television but, somehow, different.
Snowy was not sure if he was more surprised to see Dick awake or to see the study bathed in the eerie blue light emitting from the small flat screen.
A series of wires ran form the box to the wall plug and telephone sockets. It took Snowy Whyte a few seconds to realise that Dick Flaunting-Flasher was working on a lap-top computer.
The reflected the bluish white light of his computer screen flashed and seemed to accentuate his, nearly adult, nerdishness.
Snowy found his still sore little cock was getting really hard, but could not image what the reason was.
End of file: SNOWY-WHYTE-4.1 The story in continues: SNOWY-WHYTE-4.2
e-mails to email@example.com