Date: Tue, 26 Feb 2019 23:32:34 +0000 From: Vintage Speedoboy Subject: Five Boys Five Boys Fry's 5 boys' chocolate was made in England by J S Fry & Sons of Bristol and London bearing the faces of Desperation, Pacification, Expectation, Acclamation and Realization. The original images were of Lindsay Paulton, a boy photographed in 1886. P.S. Sex takes place later in the story. This story is inspired by the 1982 Yorkshire television series `Airline' about Jack (Tiny Ruskin) a demobbed ex RAF pilot who has a dream to keep flying and successfully establishes `Ruskin Air Services' a commercial cargo airline during the austerity of 1940's post war Britain operating two ex RAF Douglas C47 (DC-3) Skytrain Dakotas. Having got off to a turbulent start and having to flout all the rules just to survive and pay Ernie Cade, an evil London spiv the money he owes on his first DC-3, civilian registered G-AGHY C/N 19347 and affectionally christened Vera Lynn for which he borrowed 750 pounds off Cade to pay for the aircraft. It was the 1948 Berlin air lift which became Tiny Ruskin's salvation when he could begin to finally pay off the evil spiv Cade. Please enjoy the story which is entirely a work of fiction as was the original TV series and the relation of all named characters to actual persons living or dead is purely unintentional. After all we are leaving behind a legacy for our future and please, please send Nifty a few bob, greenbacks or whatever currency's in your pockets to help keep his archive running which is totally reliant on public donations and don't forget to look in their shop window to pick up a bargain, especially their shoulder bags which are not available anywhere else to contain your erotic stories in books or tablets to read on board aeroplanes. Signed Vintagespeedoboy. Jack Ruskin detested the idea of Vera Lynn being loaded to the gunwhales with food despite the rationing back in England whilst following a prescribed flight path from the British sector of West Germany piloted by himself and Pete Whitney with Jock McEvoy as flight engineer. The number one engine (left) began playing up despite having been overhauled by Jock himself as it was cheaper to spend the many hours taking apart the Pratt & Whitney R-1830 twin wasp 14 cylinder radial engine rated at 1,200 hp to repair its crankshaft which had spun a master rod bearing and put it back together like a giant model kit. It was here that the engine lost some power with Pete running various scenarios through his mind checking gauges and operating various controls methodically trying to troubleshoot the recalcitrant engine when he tried the magneto selector switch switching between magnetos when the engine suddenly stopped. He rapidly operated the switch to the other magneto and the engine fired up again. Both he and Jack were relieved that it was only a faulty magneto but at the same time they would be stuck in Berlin waiting for a replacement. Having already flown this run many times, Jack saw mirror flashes coming from the top of a mound as they approached the runway on finals for a landing. Whoever it was had clearly signaled SOS and as they were about to pass low over the mound Jack saw it was a scruffily dressed boy wearing only a striped T shirt and shorts, just as the aircraft over flew the side of the mound Jack saw the boy clearly with what probably remained of his untidy clothes when upon instinct he threw a large bar of Fry's 5 boys' chocolate out of the cockpit window. Henning's story. My name is Henning Steiner, I am fourteen and I come from a nearby catholic orphanage, I am the only one left from my family now and it was Father Schweizer who showed me my birth certificate and he told me I had to keep it a secret during the war as I was born in England within the sound of Bow Bells delivered by a midwife in the church of St Mary-le-Bow. The priest told me I was special as I had the birthright of a true London Cockney. Thankfully the orphanage wasn't badly damaged during the war and having been patched up it gave us shelter at night and from the weather. The priest gave me a sex and health education unlike any other when he caught me sneaking a hand job in the toilet when I was 12, the door had a broken latch and was off its hinges and when he saw my rock hard six inch cock on my 12 year old form squirting out spunk like a water pistol, I had definitely awoken his lust for boys. I really thought I was in trouble facing the confessional, ordered to say prayers for penance and definitely singled out for a few strokes of the leather strap which I feared the most as there's no doubting that it hurts to the extent that it incapacitates you, you can't even sit down let alone walk, the only place then is your bed for a few days. I was so frightened I cried my eyes out. Even if I ran away, where could I go? We were all boxed in like rats in a barrel and if you tried escaping from the city, rumours abound that the Russians would very likely shoot you. Instead Father Schweizer comforted me on his lap and that's when I felt he had a monster of a cock inside his cassock pressing against my thigh, there was a wet patch on the cloth which slowly got bigger which could only mean that his cock was leaking. He lectured me with the care and attention of a loving parent; he showed me his books which no one ever even knew he had which escaped the burning of books before the war, one of these books was a complete treatise on human sexuality which Father Schweizer kindly let me read, it was this book which provided me with my sex education thereby setting me up for life. His hands, unlike the calloused hands of manual workers were smooth like velvet and he gave me the most wonderful caresses and massages on my naked form making my body tingle all over which felt so good that my cock was hard all the time which it too started leaking, it was when he massaged my nipples which stuck out like babies cocks on top of what he told me are large pointed breast buds which poke out my tee shirt like a girl's breasts making me think I was growing into a girl that I experienced the most amazing sensations in my balls when suddenly my cock shot off by itself plastering his cassock with my spunk. It was there he scooped some up, licked it off his finger and offered me some, at first I wouldn't even touch it as that's where piss comes out. I eventually tried it and oh my, it tasted like a heavenly elixir, here was this nice tasting white almost gooey liquid which makes babies which came out of my cock. The first time he sucked my cock was unbelievably intense and it felt so good but when it came to me shooting off my spunk into his mouth, those feelings were like some sort of torture which had me kicking and screaming, he also loved to suck on my nipples like a baby sucks on his or her mother's breasts just like in the Madonna and child picture which he showed me in the church's bible, that too would also make my cock shoot off by itself, another trick of his was when he massaged the insides of my back hole with his finger after putting some stuff on it which came from the hospital and that too would have me firing off a load of spunk. We began sleeping naked together in his double bed and with hardly any bed linen around now you get used to sleeping with just blankets and just before we were about to fall asleep that's when he got me to start plunging my cock into his back hole, of course he would prepare his hole with the stuff from the hospital and put it all over my cock which he would guide it in and I would start pumping away, it was like pushing it inside a warm fleshy tunnel which would grip and release my cock with whatever muscles were inside him and the first time I did it with him I didn't last at all when I felt those lovely feelings as my spunk shot inside him with god knows how many jerking pulses. OMG that felt really awesome and then he would do the same to me only his cock was a lot bigger, it must have been at least nine inches and looked like a log it was so fat. He would prepare my back hole with his fingers and the first few times it would really hurt until my back hole became used to having his huge cock inside me. He always took the greatest of care and those moments when he shot his load inside me were truly awesome as I felt his warm liquid flooding my insides. On reflection he was preparing me for the time when I would be having regular sex with the other boys before finally leaving for the outside world with a good education and a full command of the English language. Even from an early age I always knew my destiny lay in another country especially with the number of dreams I was always experiencing of a land of green fields, woods, rivers and streams to swim in and there's leafy country lanes to cycle along and ride through quaint villages which Father Schweizer told me to keep secret. There were also dreams about aeroplanes, particularly a white DC-3 Dakota with a Union jack flag on the tail fin and a flying eagle, these were always the most pleasant of dreams and yet I somehow knew in my heart that this aeroplane would become a part of my life. What were once war machines that dropped a hail of destruction and fire on the city were now machines of peace, instead of guns & bombs, they carried people, food, goods and the mail, Instead of taking cover in fright not knowing if the next bomb was going to kill you, the sight and sound of an aeroplane represented the free world, a world now at peace, a country far away which is my spiritual home, a country which flew the Union Jack. There was hardly any food to be had as the whole city was cut off by the Russians, the whole city was a huge bombsite although workers were in the process of rebuilding it which would take many years. I hardly had any clothes and when the priest finally gave me a good talking to and showed me my birthright. I knew I had to get away and yet I knew in my heart that he was preparing me for this day which would one day come out of the skies. I waited at the top of the mound for days watching the aeroplanes come in to land, they were mostly military, either American or British but there was one I had seen before, a two tone white and light grey painted Dakota bearing Ruskin Air Services on the fuselage with a Union Jack on the tailfin and a flying eagle nose art emblem. I had to get their attention and using a man's polished metal shaving mirror I found at a bomb site, I flashed SOS at the plane to receive a bar of Fry's 5 boys' chocolate for my troubles which the pilot threw out of the window tailing a long streamer. That pilot was a lot smarter than I thought as attached to the chocolate by a rubber band was Ruskin air services visiting card which had his name and address, now I could write a letter to Mr. Jack Ruskin himself. I saw that the white Dakota wasn't going anywhere and mechanics were working on one of the engines, I had to sneak in there and speak to Mr. Ruskin himself. I had to wait until it was dark before I could sneak in and make my way to Mr. Ruskin's plane, until then I returned to the orphanage for an evening meal of soup, it was over dinner I showed the priest the card and told him about the aeroplane, he had tears in his eyes as he gave me a hug and said. "God has sent you a sign; you must wait for Herr Ruskin where he dropped you his card. I always knew in my heart this day would one day come for you." Jack Ruskin's story. I felt a great sense of satisfaction when I threw that boy a bar of 5 boys' chocolate out of the aircraft, I had seen this boy before, somehow his very soul seemed to reach out to me, I even saw him in my dreams calling out to me, I knew I had to do something and the only thing I could think of was to secure one of my cards to the chocolate with a rubber band with some toilet paper as a streamer. I felt I had done my bit and Jock quickly removed the faulty magneto so all we could do now was wait for the replacement to arrive, I had loads of time to kill and with curiosity getting the better of me. I set out for the mound hoping to find the boy. I must have easily walked a couple of miles to finally arrive seeing the boy sat on the mound, I didn't even know his name but he certainly knew mine when he quickly scrambled down off the mound giving me a very intense hug and burst out crying bawling out. "Thank god I've found you Mr. Ruskin," when I gave him another bar of 5 boys' chocolate and passed him my bottle of Tizer from my haversack to give him a drink. He took a good long swig of Tizer and the way he rolled the liquid inside his mouth reminded me of someone tasting a fine wine which was understandable as he probably hasn't had a drop of pop for at least 10 years and he even tried giving me half the chocolate back out of politeness but how do you tell a hungry boy there are crates of the stuff still on board the aircraft? Henning led me to the orphanage and introduced me to Father Schweizer who promptly put the kettle on to make a pot of tea from his meager supplies when he brought out a seven pint tin of National dried milk which indicated to me if anything was getting through it was good old British Taylor's Yorkshire tea, sugar and tins of National dried milk. Father Schweizer had home schooled Henning as he did with all the boys in the orphanage but owing to his birthright he also taught him English, he must have invested a lot of time into him only for Henning to finally be leaving on an aeroplane. I kept chewing over in my mind how to bring him home knowing that sneaking him into the country could land us in jail, fortunately Father Schweizer had a good solution and at my request he started measuring Henning for his clothes. He brought out an old Kodak autographic folding camera which still had some 120 size film inside, he tested the shutter with his hand over the lens and set up a room whilst sending Henning off to wash his face, comb his hair and borrow a shirt and tie from another boy. Henning sat in a chair with his back to a sheet illuminated by a free standing light looking directly at the tripod mounted camera as Father Schweizer took his photo several times in order to determine the best one. He entered his darkroom to process the film and when the negatives had finally dried, he cut them to size and from the best negative he printed a few photos off with the use of a contact printing frame and from these prints several were selected and two were sized for Henning's passport photos whilst Henning put his signature onto the back of an old unused postcard. Now it was up to me to fly home, borrow his doctor's rubber stamp and get him to countersign both Henning's passport photos and the passport form. I would then copy Henning's signature from the postcard then catch the morning express train to London knowing if anyone could get a passport within 24 hours with a child's ration book, identity card, medical card &c it was Ernie Cade. Henning's story. I became so overwhelmed with emotions when I first saw Tiny Ruskin at the mound, I burst out crying, I didn't know how I was going to greet my savior, this man, this British pilot who only a few years ago would have been lynched by a mob for all the destruction and fire which rained down on the city and killed my family. It was a good thing that both he and Father Schweizer met as between them they began the process of getting me into England, staying here a few more days wouldn't matter now and there would hardy be a minute pass by without me thinking about my flight to England on Vera Lynn. Listening to Father Schweizer's wireless to the BBC took on a whole new meaning, this was the voice of England coming over the airwaves and there was one song which became more poignant whilst waiting for Tiny Ruskin to return, it was the voice of the British forces sweetheart Vera Lynn singing `We'll meet again', her name adorning the nose of Tiny Ruskin's Dakota, a war plane she may have been but now it seemed as though the whole of humanity depended on this plane to keep flying and with each passing day I would soon be answering Vera Lynn's boarding call. Vera Lynn's arrival. Once again Vera Lynn was on final approach to Berlin about to over fly the mound, this time there was a crowd of children there waiting for Vera Lynn to disgorge her precious cargo when Jock threw out a whole box to descend onto the mound by parachute containing bars of Fry's 5 boys chocolate, a tin full of broken biscuits and another box containing bottles of Tizer in straw to prevent them breaking out through the door. The plan was for Jock to delay take off by seemingly tinkering with an engine whilst Jack went to the orphanage to collect Henning. Off came the remainder of Henning's clothes and he took a decent wash with carbolic soap to finally change into the uniform of Jack's local secondary school with new stout lace up shoes, socks and garters, short trousers with the popular elastic snake belt all British boys wore, schoolboy blazer with badge and cap with a wooly jumper, grey flannel shirt and tie then Henning packed his few possessions into an old travel case with his passport, documents and a book into his school satchel, lastly, he put his war surplus Waltham A11, US air force navigator hack watch, a present from Jack onto his wrist. Henning finally kissed Father Schweizer and the rest of the boys' goodbye which was sad to watch as some of those boys were crying their hearts out. Jack wished he could have taken the lot but it was Henning's birthright which was allowing him to board Vera Lynn to the country of his birth and yet far away, a country he hardly ever knew even though it was prominently marked in red along with the other countries of the British Empire on the map of the world. Having left for the airfield both Jack and Henning had to pass through a military checkpoint then through passport control, customs and baggage search conducted by British redcaps (military police). It was Jack's joke about the boy coming along for the ride which elicited a reply from the redcap sergeant saying. "I wish I could do the same for my boy." Vera Lynn looked her best as both Jack & Henning arrived in the M P's jeep when just the sight of this aircraft almost overwhelmed Henning's emotions as they waved goodbye to the MP who wished them both a good flight home but there was something else, Henning was sorely missing Father Schweizer's and the other boys cocks and he didn't know who would be giving him the pleasure of the next one. Vera Lynn may have looked spick and span from the outside but her interior gave her the appearance of being an old crate & Henning was able to read her previous RAF serial of FL584. An old crate she may be, a workhorse she certainly was but to Henning Vera Lynn was his ticket to a new life, a new home and he was dressed wearing a British schoolboy's school uniform with clean vest and underpants carrying his satchel watching Jock take his travel case on board Vera Lynn. Jock ran through the pre flight checks then checked the remaining fuel jotting down and making quick calculations with his slide rule then Vera Lynn was good to go on the green light. Henning watched intently as each one of Vera Lynn's Pratt & Whitney radial engines started in turn belching out clouds of blue smoke from the exhausts which cleared as they ran up. These were the beating hearts of Vera Lynn which to Henning was music to his ears when the aircraft began to taxi. The empty interior looked cavernous to Henning apart from a few sacks of mail & his travel case as her interior rattled like an old London tube train until she lined up and began her take off run. The almost deafening roar from Vera Lynn's engines coupled with the rumbling noises within the empty interior assaulted Henning's eardrums as he wasn't expecting this sort of performance from this aircraft as Jock said in his Scottish accent. "Dinna worry laddie, we'll soon be having you home in this old kite." "But Mr. McEvoy, a kite is what a child flies with a length of string in the wind. Vera Lynn is certainly no kite." when Jack spoke. "Looks like the stripling's told you off for insulting Vera Lynn, you had better explain to him that a kite is RAF slang for an aircraft." Henning became exhilarated as the aircraft left the ground climbing skywards expecting the flight to be smooth which it certainly wasn't as Vera Lynn rode the light turbulence and bumps in her stride for she was built like a tank which could challenge the tyranny of distance and ride out even the most powerful storms the skies could throw at her when Jack said. "Old Vera's rather like a lady dressed in all her finery who just loves to dance with her passengers to the music playing on the wireless through all the bumps." Henning laughed saying. "Mr. Ruskin, you are a very funny man, I really like you." "We'll see how you are when we finally arrive, Dad's an old boot set in his ways." It was when she climbed higher that the flight became smoother and Henning became more relaxed when Jack called him to the flight deck to say to him. "Henning' the British county of Yorkshire is a great British institution and don't you forget it my lad. Before we finally land in England you will be able to sing our county's anthem, you are going to learn the words of `On Ilkley Moor bar t'at'. Whilst Vera Lynn trundled through the skies along the northern corridor on route to Hamburg, the atmosphere in the cockpit became jovial whilst singing `On Ilkley Moor bah t'at', Henning was now joining in their jovial sing song making his best effort to imitate a Yorkshire accent accompanied by the beating hearts of Vera Lynn's engines which seemed as though they had brought out the aircraft's very life and soul to life when Jack asked Henning. "How would you like to be Vera Lynn's teaboy?" "Mr. Ruskin, I would like that very much, when do I start?" "Right now, the flasks, mugs, milk and sugar are all in the back inside a large green wooden box." Henning quickly found the box containing large vacuum flasks of black tea, two seven pint national dried milk tins, one labeled milk and the other one sugar, all he had to do was mix the drinks in each mug pouring one for himself then bring them to the cockpit. The expressions on Jack's, Pete's and Jock's faces said it all when Jack passed him a bar of Fry's 5 boys' chocolate bringing a huge smile to his face. After landing at Hamburg an RAF guard was placed around the aircraft whilst they were given meal tickets only to find out there was only 3, Jack asked. "The boy's came along for the ride, don't he get one?" The RAF corporal replied. "Mr. Ruskin, your manifest says there are three aircrew, there's nothing here about a boy," "Can't you see he's a British schoolboy who's lent a hand with the cargo and he's hungry? Can't you just let him have a spare ticket?" as Jack passed him a bar of Fry's 5 boys' chocolate. "Oh go on." Even the RAF had men who were spivs in Civvy Street and Jack sat at a Flight Sergeant's table passing 10 white five pound notes in exchange for 100 of the forged white five pound notes printed by the Jews at Sachsenhausen concentration camp under the Nazis Operation Bernhard, now Jack could use these to pay the evil spiv Ernie Cade the interest on the aircraft and use them abroad to buy fuel as even just passing just one of those white five pound notes at his local corner shop would certainly attract unwanted attention. More mail sacks were loaded onto the aircraft with several crates of German wine, boxes of eggs, hams &c all on forged RAF documentation when another RAF truck drew up with its RAF driver and mate. This was the package Jack ordered from the flight Sergeant spiv, all properly documented with its previous ownership papers, Henning watched them unload a black pre war two stroke DKW RT-125 motorcycle with a box of spare parts and its manuals. This was to be Henning's first motorcycle when he became overjoyed at its sight whilst it was secured inside the aircraft. The next leg of the flight was to Garton airfield, Vera Lynn's home airfield and Ruskin air services base of operations which was abandoned by the RAF after the war located 15 miles from Bridlington. This was Henning's second take off and he became exhilarated just like the first one whilst he sat down holding onto cargo straps as Vera Lynn accelerated down the runway with both her engines screaming out their power to finally lift off into a graceful climb out into the night. It wasn't long before fatigue began to overcome Henning when Jock tucked him into blankets with sacks for a pillow as the aircraft reached 12,000 feet over the North Sea when Jack said. "Bloody stripling, trust our teaboy to go off duty." Henning was woken up by the bumps of turbulence as the aircraft descended with Flamborough head to its right in the early morning gloom flying over Bridlington with Henning looking out of a window watching the spray streaming off the flaps as the aircraft crossed the coastline seeing fishing boats which was his first ever sighting of England. The country of his birth, born a Londoner within the sound of Bow Bells, a true cockney but this was Yorkshire, the great British institution. He watched the early morning London bound express train steam out of Bridlington station pulled by a locomotive which wasn't black, its staccato of puffs and steam whistle drowned out by Vera Lynn's throttled back engines and the wind whilst leaving Bridlington behind slowly descending over farmland to an airfield right in the middle of nowhere apart from a small village when the aircraft finally touched down and taxied to the hangar to a waiting reception of government officials. First to be offloaded was the mail to a waiting post office van, customs and ministry of food checked the rest of the cargo together with the motorcycle which Jack paid the import taxes on then promptly wheeled it into the hangar near to a Ruskin air services Lockheed Constellation aircraft being worked on by mechanics. It was the passport checks which threw up a snag with Henning as he checked both his birth certificate and passport owing to his name and German accent which raised his suspicions when he retained both documents for further checks. Jack gave his address which is also where Henning would be staying, he allowed Henning to land requiring him to report daily to Jack's local police station at Bridlington, apart from that the government checks went flawlessly. Henning sat in the passenger seat of Jack's Morris 8 car for the drive to Bridlington asking. "Why is the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car?" Jack replied. "That's because all the traffic in England drives on the left." "But surely the left is the wrong side of the road?" "We're in England now, your new home." They pulled up outside Jack's parent's house, a humble two up two down town house in a quiet street; both his parents were home when his father demanded. "Why have you brought a stripling to my house, can't you see we're struggling to feed ourselves let alone another mouth, I bet you he hasn't even got any ration books, take him back to where he belongs." "Dad, This boy has got no one, it was our bombs which wiped out his family and his saving grace is that he was born in England which gives him every right to be here, his name is Henning." "A bloody Jerry, look what they've done to our country, we went through six years of war, for what, just so they can walk in whenever they like." "The wars over, both our countries are trying to rebuild themselves from all this mess." "Yes, and we're sending them all our food over on your aeroplane whilst we're starving on rations and our young men and boys have to resort to poaching and stealing vegetables from farmers fields, they can blooming well sort their own problems out and besides, where's he going to sleep? Have you thought about that?" "I'll just curtain off my bedroom to give him some privacy," "Privacy be damned, you've hardly enough room for your own bed as it is and how are you going to put another bed in your room?". "Look, he has to stay here as he has to report to the cop shop every day until they resolve the issue of his passport, until then I will have him placed at the school and yes, he does have a British passport, ration books with his identity and medical cards so there." "It's not like you to be efficient with these things, I bet Ernie Cade's had a hand in this, he won't do it for nothing you know plus there's also your train fare to London and back." "Well the least you can do is make him a cup of tea." "And when he's finished you can jolly well take him to swimming baths." "And look what the Germans have done to our local sea water pool by the beach back in 1940, they've bombed it and its never likely to be rebuilt , I'm going to have to drive the stripling to York so he can swim there, come on Henning, we're going, go fetch your towel and swimming trunks." "Mr. Jack, I haven't got a pair of swimming trunks, we never needed them as everyone swam naked in the lake." "Heaven help us Jack, you're going to have to stop by the sports shop to buy him a pair and don't you dare go putting aeroplane fuel in my car otherwise you'll burn the valves out." Their first port of call was Garton airfield where Jack put half a jerrycan of fuel taken from the Lockheed Constellation into the car then left for York. After buying Henning his swimming trunks from the sports shop, they arrived at the Yearsley open air swimming pool to see a coach parked outside, they exited the car only to discover it was being used by a school for their swimming lessons when they learned it was Henning's new school and he was wearing their uniform which the games master immediately spotted and demanded loudly as he stopped the lesson. "What are you doing here boy, you're supposed to be at school," every boy was now staring at Henning when Jack spoke. "This boy is Henning Steiner who just arrived this morning by air from Germany, he's fourteen and he will be starting school on Monday." "Well Master Steiner, go and stand up in front of your form and introduce yourself, get changed and let me see if you can swim." Henning walked out onto poolside wearing his new black silk swimming trunks, introduced himself then executed a perfect dive and swam three strokes underwater before surfacing and swimming the rest of the length on breast stroke, pushed off the end and sprinted the second length on front crawl as looks of approval came over the games master's face, he pushed off again to swim back stroke with all the boys loudly cheering him on when he stopped him in the water and said. "My oh my, it seems like we have a star swimmer amongst our midst, Mr. Ruskin, would you mind if he travels back in the coach where he can be formally introduced to the school and you can collect him from there?" "It's fine by me." "Right boys, back in the water and choose your partners, I want each one of you to tow your partner one length of the pool and your partner to tow you back." Boys quickly took their partners and a blond haired boy partnered up with Henning and towed him the first length, surprisingly Henning towed him back on the return length, again to the games master's approval when he realized that someone had indeed taught him well, Jack immediately knew it was Father Schweizer who taught him with the rest of the boys then he left. After leaving the pool the boys shook hands and they changed two to a cubicle. Henning was brought up to respect nudity as a child and certainly had no hang ups, he didn't even care one iota that the boy sharing his cubicle gazed intently at his package with his very prominent blond pubic bush, This time Henning's already finely honed gaydar felt his gaze boring right into his cock which sprang a huge boner erecting out to over eight inches with its fat shaft and bulbous head which began dripping his clear pre-cum love juices onto the wooden footboard. Overcome by lust and astonishment at seeing such a huge cock, fourteen year old Dylan Masters cock erected out to seven and a half inches when he grasped Henning's huge cock and with his other hand, he gave him a shush gesture then began giving him a hand job despite his hand not fully encircling his huge cock. Henning hadn't had a good wank for at least two days and he was already suffering with blue balls. Dylan's hand certainly fuelled him into a frenzy of lust as his orgasmic sensations built up to a shattering crescendo in less than a minute when at least a dozen long spurts of teen boy spunk squirted out of his cock in well spaced out intervals hitting the door and finally dripping onto the footboard whilst Dylan gasped in astonishment at the sheer size of his load. Both boys had to dress in a rush as the PE and games master walked along the row of cubicles thumping the doors telling them to hurry up and they both got out just in the nick of time having to leave Henning's spunk behind on the door and footboard just as a class of boys from another school began entering the cubicles when two of them would very quickly discover the mess he left behind. The boys boarded the coach taking them back to school. Dylan beckoned Henning to accompany him to the back of the coach where they made small talk and with every seat occupied Dylan certainly wasn't going to sneak a hand job without being noticed. The coach arrived at the school after the last bell of the day as boys were finally leaving their classrooms, Dylan said. "Just wait here for me whilst I return to my desk and collect my homework," he entered the school building at a fast walk and moments later he came back out with his satchel slung over his shoulder then asked. "Where abouts do you live?" "Two streets down from the Red Lion, I believe it's called a public house." "It's on the way to mine; I'll pick up my bike and walk with you." "I have to call into the police station; it's something to do with my passport which they took off me after the aeroplane landed." "No way! Whose plane was it?" "It's a Dakota which belongs to Tiny Ruskin." "OK, we'll go there together; my old man's the station sergeant who'll make us both a nice cup of tea while we're there." A quarter of an hour later they entered the police station, at the desk was Sergeant Masters who greeted Dylan saying. "I suppose you want another cup of tea and who's your new friend?" "Henning Steiner, he's the new boy in my class who arrived this morning on Tiny Ruskin's plane from Germany." "I see, one moment, just let me check the aliens register," he brought out the book and opened it finding a hand written note inside, he read it and passed the book to Henning asking whilst pointing a finger at the section on the page. "Just sign your name here my lad," and passed Henning his pen. He gazed momentarily at the book then signed it; Sergeant Masters then looked at the clock, wrote the time and date, initialed it then asked. "I trust you've had a nice flight sonny, now for a nice cup of tea." "It was very nice thank you." "You just be here same time tomorrow my lad," and led them both to the canteen where a mature woman in her sixties put the kettle on and made two mugs of strong sweet Taylor's Yorkshire tea with two chocolate biscuits each. Over tea, Dylan said in astonishment. "So it is true that you've arrived here on a plane, what a story," Henning reached into his blazer pocket and found a bar of five boys chocolate, took it out, peeled the wrapper then broke the bar in half sharing it with Dylan who thanked him when Henning said. "Tiny Ruskin's aeroplane brings these over by the crateful," I watched him as he was coming in to land one day when a huge box containing chocolate, broken biscuits and Tizer was thrown out of the aeroplane and landed by parachute, it was his gift to all the children stood waiting on top of the mound." Not having shot off his spunk at the swimming pool, Dylan was certainly experiencing blue balls especially being in such close proximity to his new found friend to the point that he was experiencing both a pleasurable tingling in his balls and inside his arse owing to his constantly twitching rock hard cock driving him into a frenzy of lust. Having left the police station Dylan knew the whereabouts of an Anderson shelter, he also knew the man who lived in that house worked shifts and having done gardening jobs for him to earn extra cash, he kept a small pocket diary with the pages marked with an initial denoting which shift he was rostered on that week and a quick look at his diary revealed he was on a late shift, it was what he wanted, a suitable place to sink his cock inside Henning's rear hole. He led him along a passageway between two rows of houses, entered the back garden through a gate and into the Anderson shelter, having opened the lock with his key which just happened to fit, they entered and Dylan felt around and found a candle mounted in an enameled candle holder, took out his old trench lighter, lit the candle and placed it on a table. Henning knew immediately that this shelter, still kept in good order was used as a spare outside bedroom. Henning became surprised at seeing bunk beds inside the shelter and a small solid fuelled stove at the end with a pile of seasoned wood beside it, its chimney tube pushing through the shelter's roof and standing prominently by the garden fence. A radio stood on the table next to an ashtray denoting that the man smoked. Henning switched on the radio which came to life as it was also powered by a glass accumulator battery when Dylan said in alarm. "For god's sake, don't go tuning that radio to another station otherwise he'll know someone's been in here." That was when Henning found the light switch and switched on the light which surprised Dylan as he hadn't yet found the light switch. They entered into a lover's embrace passionately kissing and caressing each other whilst stripping each other naked, Dylan reached into his satchel for his small tin of Vaseline and lubed up both his cock and Henning's rear hole, he positioned him bent over the bunk and slowly pushed his cock right up inside Henning's rear hole doggy fashion, what did surprise him was that his cock was a loose fit, something he had yet to encounter on a boy which was testament to the regular pounding Father Schweizer gave Henning every night in the bed they shared together when he gave a huge sigh of relief that his highly addictive withdrawal symptoms of not having had a huge cock up there was finally being sated. Dylan took a very slow gentle thrusting pace to avoid shooting his hot load inside him within seconds, so turned on by this boy his animalistic urges were trying to control him which he managed to control by stopping despite those feelings of his cock having reached its largest ever size yet and really gave Henning new heights of fullness, his cock, already having shot his load inside the swimming pool cubicle had miraculously recharged and was leaking his pre-cum love juices like a tap onto the bed. Dylan managed to last about five minutes until his sensations finally overcame him and built up to a shattering orgasm overcome by the highly intense sensations on his cock as it flooded Henning's bowels with his largest ever load of spunk in his entire young life to date that he was seeing stars and started screaming, especially when Henning's rear hole clamped powerfully onto his cock whilst shooting off his hot load in long well spaced out jets of spunk across the bed and hitting the shelter's wall. At Henning's direction, they both sucked a mouthful of their remaining spunk from each others cocks and gave each other passionate spunk filled tongue kisses before getting dressed. They both sat on the bunk making more small talk as Henning reached into his satchel and pulled out his packet of Players navy cut unfiltered cigarettes, Dylan lit them both with his trench lighter then both lads smoked their cigarettes like troopers. They finally left the Anderson shelter and continued their journey to their homes stopping outside Tiny Ruskin's house for a final kiss and hug. By now Dylan's spunk was leaking out of his gaping rear hole and flooding one of the pairs of black silk briefs which Father Schweizer bought for him on the black market and with the following day being a Saturday, Dylan asked. "I'll be round tomorrow morning after nine, we'll go to my house, grab you a spare bike, ride to Garton airfield together and you can show me Tiny Ruskin's plane." Henning replied. "Yes, I would like that very much," then Dylan mounted his bike and rode home. Henning entered Jack's house with his key to a telling off from Jack's mum as he was already late for his tea which he would now have to eat cold. After breakfast the following morning having packed his packed lunch into his haversack and dressed in a tee shirt and shorts, Dylan pressed the doorbell waiting outside with two bikes also wearing tee shirt and shorts. They rode to Garton airfield to see the Lockheed Constellation parked outside with Tiny Ruskin, Pete Whitney, Jock McEvoy and a US Air force major (a flight instructor tasked with giving the flight crew their check flight) with Mr. Keller writing on his clipboard when he beckoned them all on board the aircraft whilst, like the previous time he checked Vera Lynn for her certificate of airworthiness had decided to remain on the ground to watch the flight and moved his car out of the way of the huge aircraft. Both lads watched intently as each Pratt & Whitney R3350 double banked 28 cylinder radial engines turned their fifteen and a half foot diameter propellers over several revolutions and started up in turn belching out huge clouds of blue smoke and flames from their huge exhaust pipes when the engines ran up and warmed up whilst Jock sat at the flight engineer's station monitoring the gauges on his panel setting the mixtures as both pilots went through their checks with their instructor when Tiny called for Jock to perform the power checks (Magneto drop tests) before the aircraft taxied out to the runway, waited for the green light then took off. To both boys, it was truly an impressive sight watching the aircraft in flight with its engines roaring and belching out exhaust flames from their exhausts, it had been a smooth take off in good weather and now their instructor took the flight crew through various scenarios whilst up to now they had only studied the aircraft's manual. This aircraft required four people to fly it, two pilots, a flight engineer who controlled the power settings and a navigator, as there wasn't one present on board, it was Pete who navigated the aircraft during its flight which lasted over an hour. Both lads entered the hanger and Henning showed Dylan the motorcycle, he started it up and rode it out with Mr. Keller shouting. "Stay on the perimeter track and don't ride your bike anywhere else." Dylan watched Henning ride the machine right around the airfield then handed it over to him who, after being shown how the controls worked also rode the machine around the perimeter track whilst a bemused Mr. Keller watched as he recalled his fond memories of his First World War Royal Flying Corps dispatch rider days. When Dylan arrived, he beckoned him to stop the machine then gave both lads his experiences about motorcycling which thrilled both of them. They had initially took him for one of those miserable government public servants and yet, his was the voice of experience which he spoke with a pleasant demeanour and they got to really like him when he asked. "You boys really should park that machine back in the hanger before the aircraft lands," when they sighted the approaching aircraft. The taxying aircraft stopped outside the hanger with its engines shut down when the flight crew exited with beaming smiles at a successful check ride which was endorsed into their flight logs by their instructor leaving Tiny Ruskin to pay him a fat cheque. Mr. Keller spoke with a pleasant demeanour as he finally passed Tiny the certificate of airworthiness, gave a pleasant wave and drove off. A large fuel truck pulled up and Jock went into the hanger after calling for assistance from both boys to push out the wheeled climbing frame with its ladder and positioned it in front of the wing beside an outer engine. Jock climbed up onto the wing, opened the fuel caps and the process of refueling the aircraft began. Once completed, Jock checked the fuel truck's gauges to ensure he was signing for the correct amount of fuel and with the refueling completed. Tiny Ruskin said. "Right boys, there's a load of crates inside the hanger, here's where you're going to earn your pocket money, help us to load those crates on board the aircraft." Both lads suddenly looked crestfallen at the enormity of the task facing them. The boys adventures with Ruskin Air Services continues.