Date: Thu, 12 Nov 2020 09:47:27 +0000 (GMT) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 102 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 102 "I'm Bertie Cunliffe." "Ace. Ace Perry, and this is Jack." We shook hands. Ace clearly knew why I'd been sent to join them. "Larry told us that we - the three of us - have a common interest." Jack chuckled. "He means a common interest other than quality time with Ben." "Ah," I said, "I see. I'm here for the night, and you ...?" "We had him last night," said Ace. "That's putting it very crudely," said Jack, "what Ace means is that the three of us didn't get a great deal of sleep until well after midnight." I smiled, "he's good, isn't he." A contemplative silence fell as three men replayed scenes in their minds. Jack broke the reverie. "The other common interest is the one where we make our living." "Tell me more - I take it we're talking about Ben's special interest here." Ace said, "oh, for God's sake, Jack, stop being coy. Bertie, he means piss. Is that up your street? Presumably that's what Larry has suggested we should talk about." I nodded, "yes, but how do you make a living?" "It's a long story," said Ace, "but the bottom line is that we are builders, and our speciality is creating wet playrooms for other queers - is it OK to call you a fellow queer, Bertie? - who want somewhere to enjoy themselves." "And others like Ben," added Jack. Ace told me that they had just completed a job for a client in Aberdeen and were having a few days' holiday before going back to Harlow where they lived. "That's a long way," I said, "do you have clients all over the country?" "We don't have any competition," said Ace, "and since everything we do is hush-hush all our business is by word of mouth. We have a legit building business on the side, but we only employ queers, and all our employees are in on the secret." He paused. "Are you asking because you might want to know more, Bertie?" Five seconds earlier it had never occurred to me to create a playroom at Inverthrum; now it seemed an excellent idea. "I might at that," I said, "can we discuss it tomorrow? Are you staying in Inverness?" Ace shook his head. "No, we're booked into a place - where is it, Jack?" "Strathpeffer. It's not far." "I know it," I said, and made an instant decision. "If I come to your hotel tomorrow morning, say at 10, can we talk business then? I have a place near Lairg and we could go there afterwards." Ace grinned. "That sounds ideal. Are you sure you'll have any energy?" At that moment Ben appeared with coffee. "You have another busy night, Ben. How do you find the energy?" asked Jack. Ben was unruffled by this. "I get my ration of protein, Jack. That keeps me going. Have Ace and Jack been telling you about last night, Bertie? You must ask them," and as exit lines went it was a good one. "Well?" I said. ***** "Do you often get spit-roasted?" I asked Ben later when we were in bed. We'd had our usual wet pleasure in the shower and, as had become the habit, were lying snugly together enjoying stroking each other. "No - they're the only couple I've had. They've been here three or four times while they were doing the conversion in Aberdeen. They've told me about it - it sounds a massive job - and now it's finished they're having a holiday." "I'm seeing them tomorrow. I might get them to do something for me." His eyes lit up. "If they do, can I come one day and play?" I kissed him. "Of course you can. I'll know more about what we can get up to tomorrow. Until then we'll have to make do with your shower." He suddenly disappeared down the bed and I felt his lips on my cock. Familiar though that feeling was I never tired of it. Over the five years since I'd been coming here Ben and I had evolved a very satisfying sexual relationship. Neither of us had any illusions about all the others with whom we shared a bed, and that freedom lent wings to our ... lovemaking? Was that too emotionally-loaded a word? The feeling of a hot mouth on my cock made such semantic matters irrelevant. He was sucking my cock and I knew - we both knew - that the next hour or two would be filled with intense pleasure-giving and orgasmic delights. "Stop," I whispered. At my age I knew that two cums was my limit, and I was in no hurry for the first. Ben knew that I would be close when I called a halt, so he was back up the bed in no time. I went down and enjoyed the animal scent and taste of his body. Like me he kept himself smooth and the feel of his arse was as magical as it had been when he had been only 15 and hairless. I ran my tongue along a path it had travelled hundreds of times, never failing to be thrilled by the taste of Ben at his most intense. His balls were heavy now, and each one filled my mouth. When I'd first been in this bed I'd had both balls in my mouth at once, but that hadn't been possible for a good few years now. His cock was longer too, longer than mine by a good inch and more, and that meant that there was more of it to run my tongue along. Ben sighed and shivered as I blew gently onto his cock-head. "I love it when you do that," he murmured. He had used those words hundreds of times too. I felt him move and reach for something. I waited, keeping his cock in my mouth. I knew what was coming. One of his other clients had introduced this idea to him several months earlier and I had been introduced to it not long after. His hand stretched down to me and I felt for it. The first time he had been very patient. "It's called a sound, and it goes in your cock, or my cock if we're being precise." "Doesn't it hurt?" I said as it looked a fearsome thing - a steel rod several inches long with a ball at one end. "No. It feels odd, but that's the fun of it. Watch while I put it in." He got some lube and made the sound slippery. Then he drew back his foreskin - he wasn't hard at this point - and gently squeezed his cock-head so that his piss slit opened to a circular hole. "It goes in here," he said, and proceeded to hold his cock up and allow the thing to slide in under gravity. I couldn't believe what I was seeing - the sound slipped into his cock slowly until the ball was resting on his cock-head. "Feel under it," he said. I could feel the rod hard inside him. "Watch." Gradually, as he stroked himself, his cock hardened. The ball stayed where it was. "What does it feel like?" I asked, mesmerised by the spectacle. "You'll have to find out for yourself, Bertie, but believe me, it's good. Now don't blink, because it's quick." His cock was fully hard by then, all of 9 inches long. He put his fist round it and started to wank. "Doesn't it hurt?" I asked again. He shook his head. It was unusual for either of us to wank like that, solo, as we had since first learnt how to do it as boys, so the sight was itself erotic. In less than two minutes his chest reddened and he groaned. What happened then was astonishing. A little spunk appeared - not much, just enough to coat his cock-head. "One," he growled. A second later the sound flew out of his cock, landing on his belly, and a torrent of spunk gushed out after it. Not a series of jets like most cums - once the sound was forced out the pressure needed was so great that the rest of his spunk just cascaded out in a single arc. "Fuck, that's good," he sighed. I bent to lick up the unusually generous coating on his heaving belly. He was very patient with me. I had to agree that the feeling of cold steel slipping into my cock was not something I could describe, but I had to agree too that it was a feeling which conjured up an orgasm of unusual ferocity. And in Ben's bed that night the sound was in my hand again. This was the biggest of the three in Ben's bedside drawer, and the one both of us preferred. It was about one third of an inch in diameter and needed very careful insertion. We were both capable of taking it, and if we were patient there was enough precum to let it slide in effortlessly. Ben was hard and the thing slipped in easily. Even though I'd seen it, or one of its brothers, drop into Ben's cock dozens of times, it never failed to amaze me that so fat a thing could slip inside with such an effect. "Dab," he murmured, "this time I'll let you know when I'm on the edge. Instead of letting it fly out, you whip it out and get your mouth over me. I can shoot straight into your guts then." I liked the sound of that. I watched as he wanked; we'd both found that being wanked by someone else with a sound in wasn't ideal, so I contented myself with holding his balls as they bounced fiercely. Ben showed himself no mercy in these wanking sessions. "Hold 'em tight," he groaned, "nearly there." I pulled the sound out; I got the business end of his cock safely nested while he wanked for another few seconds ... then a torrent of high-pressure spunk shot from his cock - far too much for me to be able to swallow as it poured into me. Much of it leaked from the sides of my mouth and I felt a trickle running down my chin - an incredibly erotic sensation. Massive cums like that are over quickly though, and my mouth was still full when Ben's hands pulled me up the bed. He had no need to speak - we both knew what would happen - but before our lips opened his tongue was eagerly hoovering up the glistening lines on my chin. "Mmm," he moaned as he busied himself. I was happy to wait: a mouthful of his spunk was something to savour, after all. (Nutty, should you be interested, with a salty tang. It had been sweetish when he was 15 - as had he. Still was, really.) At last our mouths met. Ben loved the feeling of his own spunk in my mouth and his arms and hands were almost uncontrollable when it happened. I loved the way in which he surrendered himself to the moment - a bit like coming, but for several minutes. I loved what we were doing, but Ben's pleasure far outreached mine. It made me feel good that I was able to give him such ecstasy. As we always did on sounding nights Ben fucked me hard and fast when we'd finished our mouth music. His need was so fired up by the spunk-swapping that those fucks were the most intense we shared. I didn't mind that it lasted only a few minutes as I knew that the second fuck, maybe half an hour later, would be long and deeply satisfying. In between we always cuddled and talked nonsense to each other, but that night it wasn't nonsense. "Can I really come to your place, Bertie?" "Of course you can. You needn't wait until Ace and Jack have done whatever it is - why don't we go tomorrow?" As I asked him I wondered why it had never occurred to me to ask him before - perhaps Larry and Ken had led me to think of him as their resident whore (nothing wrong with that, of course), rather than a young man in his own right, with interests of his own. Interests which might include freelance work, as it were. "Can't, Bertie. I don't have free time tomorrow - no, today. I could tomorrow though. Will you still be here?" It was after midnight, so his 'tomorrow' really was tomorrow, and I'd be seeing Ace and Jack today. "Not here in this house, Ben, but here in the Highlands. I'll be at home tonight." "Can you pick me up after lunch? I'm off from 2 until 6." "Will they mind?" "Why should they? I'm a big boy now." I reached down - it was true, and increasingly so as my hand continued its investigation. "Later," he whispered, "give them time to fill." I reached a little further down. "They're filling nicely," I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose, "I can feel all the little sperms gurgling about in there." "You're daft, Bertie," he said happily, "I love it when you're being soppy like that." "I'll be outside at 2 tomorrow. Do you have anyone tonight?" He shook his head. "Not so far. I don't entertain evert night, you know." I didn't know - I had never made it my business to enquire into his bookings - but I began to feel that I did want to know, that I wanted Ben for myself ... I pulled myself together (though still entwined with him). Was I starting to feel he was mine? And if I did feel like that, what did he feel? He seemed very happy to be fucked by anyone who felt inclined to ask. No, Bertie, put those thoughts firmly back in the box. He's going to give you the best fuck you've had for a while - don't spoil it by thinking. ***** I drove to Strathpeffer after breakfast. "Ben tells me you're whisking him off to your palace," said Ken. "Yes, he wanted to see what Ace might get up to. You don't mind?" "Heavens no, my dear. Just so long as you give him back. One day he'll find Mr Right, but until then he's happy with us old queers." Ace and Jack were waiting. "Get in," I said, "it's easier if I drive us there. It took just over an hour over Struie - or it would have done if Ace hadn't demanded a prolonged stop. "Look at that," he said, "I wish we had scenery like that in Harlow." Jack grinned. "Remember that night at Glastonbury? I thought I could see for ever then. This is the same feeling, only a million times bigger." Ace put his arm round him. "Of course I remember. You were just 14 then. We'd only had a couple of weeks together." I was amused. "Have you two been together since then? What are you now, Jack, 30?" "A mere 29, Bertie. I've been with him more than half my life." When we got to Inverthrum I showed them round the upper floor. The three rooms at the back were still as they had been long before I married Amanda - I'd never been able to face thinking about changing anything. Ace took one look. "We could make a wet room in the middle easily. These two walls aren't load-bearing, so we could knock them through - maybe take them out altogether - and you could have a bedroom at each end. That's what King and I built at home. What do you think, Jack?" "That sounds fine, but we'll need to look at the plumbing in the rest of the house. Where does your water come from? Mains or private?" I had no idea, and said so. "The kind of client we like, Ace," said Jack with a grin, "lets us get on with it. Bertie, tell us exactly what you want in here - drain, showers, the lot." We spent an hour talking about the possibilities and Jack made detailed measurements while Ace examined all the other bits of plumbing. "OK," said Ace, "we'll work up a detailed estimate and get it to you in a few days. I take it there's no huge hurry - we've got four to do before Christmas. Would next spring be all right?" Since I had had no idea that I was about to embark on such a thing 24 hours earlier I didn't feel that such a delay would matter too much. "No, that's fine." ***** The next day when I collected Ben he was as excited as I was. "We'll have two hours to play," I said, "so let's make the most of it." "Tell me what you arranged with those two yesterday. They build rooms in houses, Larry said. What did he mean?" "It's not just rooms, Ben, but special playrooms where men like us can piss where they like - not like in your shower, but in a proper waterproof room." "Wow!" he said softly, "I'd like that." "I'll show you what they're planning. It won't be done till next year, but I've still got something better than we've had up to now - you'll see." I passed him a bottle of water - a couple of pints. "Drink that. By the time we get to Inverthrum you'll be ready to let it go." He grinned. "I like the sound of that, Bertie." I misjudged slightly. The bumpy track, even though it was only a couple of miles, almost caused an accident. By dint of massive effort the two pints remained for the most part where they were. Subsequent examination showed a small amount of leakage, but vert little went to waste. "Come on, quick," I said, leading the way into the upstairs bathroom. We tore off our clothes and stepped into the bath. "Wait!" I said. I got out quickly and picked up a towel which I folded and put in the bath. I lay on it and looked up at Ben, his cock gripped tightly, his face a mask of discomfort. "OK, go!" I said. I was soaked from head to foot. The sensation was much more erotic than when he had pissed on my body with us both standing up in the shower - here there was no restraint: if the piss splashed who cared? He pissed on, the stream seemingly never-ending. As it began to ease he knelt, his knees either side of my head. I reached up and was rewarded with the final spurts straight from the tap, just as I loved it. "Do it on me now," he whispered. We changed places. As he lay on the warm piss-soaked towel he purred. "That's really sexy, Bertie. Leave some for me to drink." I aimed my cock at his - hard, wet, soon to be up my arse - and let myself relax. "Ah!" he groaned, "this is much better." When I was half done I knelt as he had done and allowed the rest to find its way into his bladder - I would see it again soon enough. When I was empty I lay on him, our wet bodies slippery, our hands anointing any bit of flesh they could find. Piss cools quickly, however, and only a few minutes passed before we both wanted to move. "Where will we go?" he murmured, "I want to stay with you for ever, but this is uncomfortable." His words pierced me. 'For ever'? It was one thing to murmur about wanting to stay in bed with someone for a prolonged session, but 'for ever'? Was Ben edging in the direction that I'd caught myself edging? "Bed. Who cares if the sheets get messy? I want you," I said. He shrugged - coping with manky sheets wasn't going to be his problem. "Fuck me, Bertie," he begged, "I feel so hot for your cock." Wet we may have been, but piss isn't an ideal lubricant, so I got a tube from the bedside drawer and squeezed some onto his arse. "Oh God, it's cold. Get it in and warm me up." Sometimes soft words of endearment aren't needed, are they. In I went; it may have felt cold to Ben but it felt red hot to me. He was on his back; I was deep (well, deep for me) in his arse, unmoving, just letting us both feel the promise of a hard cock in the slips, waiting to be released. He put his arms round me and let the thunderbolt loose. "I love you, Bertie." ***** It's odd, isn't it, that four words - four simple everyday words - can turn your entire world upside down. As soon as he'd said them I knew that I'd been fighting - stupidly, but, thank goodness, not fatally - the same defence-shredding feeling. I had loved David and he had been killed; I had loved Amanda and she had been killed. Each time a part of me had died as well. Each time I had vowed never to love anyone again for fear of killing them; each time I had yielded and - dammit - here I was again, nearly 50, cock buried in a sweet 20-year-old who's just told me he loves me. Don't die, Ben, please don't die. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I had not seen that coming. Lucky Bertie, to find he was loved again at 50. I wanted to know more about Ben: did they live together? Was there to be a third tragic death? They would have to stay locked together for several weeks while I enjoyed my last Lent Term at Fisher, with the bountiful joys of Henry's young body to keep me fired up. ***** I have to break off - it's 27 December 2099 and I shall be leaving Uttoxeter - my home throughout my life - in less than an hour. Joel built it in 1854 - almost 250 years ago. It has been lived in and loved in ever since, but in an hour's time it will be empty. I will never come back. Unless jillies or wanderers take possession - and good luck to them if they do! - it will slowly decay, and in another 250 years it will likely be a crumbling ruin. I grieve for it, for all the loving hours my ancestors have had there, for all the countless joyful times I've had there, with Billy whom I miss so much, with Dodo, with his Seb, with all the others so long ago now. All dead or lost apart from Jack and Hamish. I do so hope they are still at Inverthrum - I haven't heard from them since July. There was no trouble up there then, so the three of us ought to be able to hold out safely there - but for how long? None of us will see 75 again. If my journey comes to grief I should make an ending here - it can always be scrubbed out if I reach Inverthrum safely. Let me just say that I enjoyed almost every moment of my life until the last few years. There were ups and downs - what fully-lived life is not occasionally troubled? - but until Billy ... Oh, Billy, I'll be with you again soon, I promise. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 103 as Dab makes his last journey. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================