Date: Fri, 20 Nov 2020 08:47:01 +0000 (GMT) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 104 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 104 We lay together for several minutes talking softly. He told me about his life in Carlisle - all he had ever known. I told him about Uttoxeter and why I was going to Inverthrum. "What is there?" he asked. "Two old men like me and a safer life, I hope. It's near a little village and they all feel, as I say, safe. There's no big town within 50 miles." "Who protects you?" I told him that we looked after each other, but that so far we hadn't needed the kind of protection he provided. He thought about it while we lay warm and close. "I want you to fuck me when you've got your strength back," I said. "In half an hour then." He felt me - I was hard. The presence of a boy had given my cock a keenness I found it difficult to obtain at my age. He moved down the bed and I experienced one of life's great joys - the mouth of a boy on my cock. He had said he was skilled, and he had spoken the truth. I remembered boys who had done the same from 60 and more years earlier - boys much the same age as I had been - but memory dulls. This boy was with me now, his lips, his tongue, his fingers were filling my brain with messages of lust and desire; the boys of yesterday were forgotten. I reached for his hips and he immediately understood what I wanted. He lay on me, never taking his mouth off my cock. His arse was under my chin - he was several inches shorter than I - and as it was his arse I wished to enjoy rather than his cock I was happy enough. When my fingers ran along his arse crack he giggled - an unexpected sound - and moved so that his knees were either side of me and his arse wide open. I reached forward and ran my tongue along his perineum. He sighed and his tongue increased its lapping of my cock-head. My tongue ran more slowly, pausing at the entry. He sighed again. "Can I fuck you?" I whispered." "Mmm, later. What you're doing is nice." "So's what you're doing, Stewart. I haven't had my cock in a boy's mouth for a long time." It was a good thing he'd cum not long before, because that enabled our game to go on much longer than would otherwise have been likely. I hadn't expected that I would begin to feel orgasm approaching before he did, but such was the combination of his skill and the fact of his age that I knew I would be there in a couple of minutes. I didn't want to lose the rhythm - easily done at my age - so I said I needed him to sit on my cock and let me fuck him. "I need you now," I groaned, "quick." He moved fast, knowing perhaps (if he serviced his grandfather) that old men's cocks wilt quickly if they're not buried in a warm place. His eyes met mine; we both smiled; he held my cock with his left hand and guided it into his arse as he lowered himself into it. Naturally I hadn't done anything about lube - I hadn't expected to be fucking anybody when I left Uttoxeter - but I slipped in easily enough. The boy was prepared. I should have known. He lowered himself until I was in him as far as I could go. He leant forward, his lips inches from mine. "Fuck me, Dab, let's make an alliance. Fill me." My ancient body was given vigour by his eagerness. I began to do as he begged - as every fibre of my own being begged, as my brain and my balls insisted. I hadn't had any sexual encounter since Billy had died, and I felt suddenly that Billy was giving me the energy to go on living. Stewart had come within a couple of seconds of killing me less than 12 hours earlier and here I was, in his bed, fucking him on the orders of his grandfather. Oh Billy, Billy, thank you, thank you ... and ancient fresh-made spunk spurted from me into the boy filling him as he had demanded, spurt after spurt ... He fell forward onto me. Our lips met. "That was some fuck," he whispered, "you were miles away while you were pumping it into me." We kissed while I gradually returned from wherever I had been. "Will you fuck me now?" I murmured, "I need a strong boy's hard cock in me. I need to be possessed; I need to feel hot steel surging into me. Fuck me, Stewart, fuck me long and hard." He looked at me. "You're strange, Dab. Not what I expected at all. When my grandfather told me to bring you here for the night I did not expect to be as ... thrilled by what we're doing. Yes, thrilled. Some of the others fuck me and our rutting is animal - hard and quick. You're different - doing it with you isn't animal: well, it is when you cum, but the build-up is far better." I smiled. I didn't tell him, but that was how most boys his age felt, assuming their diet of fuck buddies was as rich as his, and as impersonal. If he was only fucking one or two others he might have found something more deeply satisfying. I hoped his strange life would allow him such luxury, but it didn't seem very likely in a military-style existence in a land returned to barbarism. Enjoy the moment, Dab. I remained on my back and he entered me smoothly after he had used his tongue and fingers to get my ready. I felt something on his fingers as he pushed them in - cream of some kind, maybe even butter - and his cock, when he finally slipped in, was hot and hard and magical. Young flesh! To my surprise and delight he took a long time to cum. He varied his rhythm, his stroke, everything. He set my insides on fire; he set my brain on fire; he lit a fire in my balls. It had been many years since I could cum twice in a night - even once was something of an event - so when, after 25 minutes or so, I felt a distinct thrill I knew I was going to cum again. "You're special," I panted, "I'm near again." He grinned. "I'll watch then, just like you did earlier," but he didn't break his rhythm. Half a minute later I gasped as my balls delivered again, and three good lines of cum streaked onto my belly. "That looked good," he murmured, "now here it comes." I hadn't realised that he was close - perhaps he'd been holding back deliberately. Whatever the reason he thrust hard four times, deeper than he had been before, and when his cock was buried after the fourth plunge I felt it swell and pour hot spunk into me, coating the walls of my arse with his precious juice. "Oh God," I moaned, "that's so ... aaah!" "Yeah," he sighed, "oh God." He stayed deep in me as long as he could, but it slipped out as it always does. He at 15, and I at 80, both instinctively knew that spunk, wheresoever delivered, should not go to waste, so without either of us saying anything each of us moved to harvest what there was. Once he had licked my belly clean he 69ed with me so that I could gather the last delicious mouthfuls from his cock while he harvested the much bigger treasure his cock had planted up me. Naturally I did his arse the same courtesy. ***** When I woke it was still dark. Stewart was still asleep. His rhythmic breathing, soft, slow, dependable, reminded me so much of waking up next to Billy. It sounds foolish, and I've woken up next to many boys, but Stewart sounded so like Billy (where others hadn't) that I was for a brief moment of being only half-awake still back in Uttoxeter next to him. I stroked his chest, my fingers circling his nipples as softly as a butterfly's footsteps. A smile appeared - was he still asleep? My fingers continued their delicate tracing. His hand moved down to his cock and finding it hard with morning need he moved to feel me. Now awake he grunted, "I'm hard and you're not, so I'd better fuck you." I kissed the nearest nipple, "I'd like that," I whispered. He threw off the blanket and nudged my knees apart. There would be no foreplay this time. I felt his cock under my balls and I reached down to guide him in. "Mmm," he groaned and as soon as his cock-head was in my arse lips he pushed hard. I love it when a boy rams it in hard, but I confess I would have loved it more if lips or fingers had led the way. Still, a first-thing-in-the-morning fuck from a 15-year-old is something you don't get every day, and once he was in the discomfort soon gave way to that old familiar feeling of heat radiating through my body as the friction made my nerve-endings go berserk. Stewart was a noisy fucker first thing in the morning - perhaps in the strange society in which he lived there was no need to conceal what he was doing, nor muffle the noise. I allowed myself the same freedom, groaning each time his cock was in as far as he could get it. My bladder - no longer the most retentive of organs - was in danger of leaking each time his cock pressed on it. I had no idea how he would react to finding his bed awash with piss, so I tried to warn him. "I think ... each time you - aah! ... ram it in I'm going ... to - aah! ... piss - I can't ... help ..." "Piss if you have to," he muttered, "I don't mind." He fucked on a few more thrusts and I felt a little piss on my belly. "You're not the first. Don't bother about it." I mentally shrugged my shoulders. I wouldn't release all I had, I decided, but neither would I fight to contain every last drop. Even for someone as devoted to piss as I was it was still strangely erotic to be fucked so hard with a full bladder that each thrust forced a little jet out of me - and in bed! That was a perversion never before experienced (whether the bed's owner was or was not a killer). He began to accelerate and I knew that I might be on the losing end of keeping it all back. "Yes, yes, let it go!," he cried pushing his cock deeper into me than it had been before. His cock swelled; I felt his spunk jetting; I felt my bladder give up the unequal struggle. "Aah! yes, yes," he sighed, falling onto me so that my cock gushed into the squeezed space between our chests. Needless to say I was worried. It was one thing to be told to piss everywhere at the height of his orgasmic passion but quite another to lie in a wet bed. My alarm didn't last long because that most welcome sensation happened only a few seconds after I finished. Warm piss, not mine! I put my arms round him. "Go on, Stewart, it's good." It was also long-lasting. The bed was ruined, but neither of us seemed to care. He looked in my eyes. "No-one's ever done that before. If you had asked me yesterday I would have laughed in your face. Now -" and he kissed me deeply, our tongues frantic with the need to convey emotions that words could not. Lust, pure lust. He 15 and I 80. "The bad news," he said as he get off me, the piss cooling rapidly, "is that there are only cold showers." ***** I went to take my leave of the Leader around two in the afternoon. Steven had been with me and had loaded some supplies into the electro. "Your weapons and ammunition are all still there. My grandfather has added some grenades." He paused. "Tell me, though it's none of my business, was my brother to your liking?" "I feel I can be honest with you, given that you know about my history with your grandfather. I've fucked and been fucked by dozens of boys in my time, though none for many years. I met my lover when we were both teenagers, and he died two years ago. Last night was the first sex I'd had since then, and the first with a boy for 30 years or more. I think it was good for him too. Why do you ask?" He didn't say anything, merely nodded. Had I said the wrong thing? It was impossible to know how people would interpret an honest statement, given that there was virtually no contact with strangers. As I started the little generator to charge the battery he studied everything I did - it was new to him. The thing thudded away for the 15 minutes, making conversation impossible. Steven remained with me, watching a piece of engineering far older than I was with a child's interest. When I turned it off and the noise stopped he turned to me. "I've never seen anything like that - it was an eye-opener. So were you, it seems." He started to go. "You'll eat with us before you set off. 20 minutes." I had to stow the generator back in the electro, so I had no chance to ask him what he had meant. By the time I washed up before the meal it had slipped my mind. I went into the place where Stewart and I had eaten the night before, but there was no sign of any of the family. An soldier told me that the Leader was expecting me in his private room, and pointed where I should go. This whole hierarchy was confusing. I went in at the door indicated to find Leonard and his two grandsons there. The table was set for four. "Let's eat," said Leonard, "you have a long way to go and I think you will wish to get well beyond Glasgow before dawn tomorrow. You will not be able to drive fast, and 20 miles, maybe 30, will be as far as you can go in an hour." The meal was the same as it had been the day before - I was glad I wasn't going to have to eat the same thing at every meal: it was wholesome enough, and there was plenty of it, but God! it was dull. At least at Inverthrum there would be a variety of things to eat. We ate in silence for the most part. In 15 minutes we were finished. Leonard turned to Stewart. "You are sure?" "Yes, grandfather." "And you, Steven?" "As I told you, grandfather, it's his decision. He is a soldier and can make up his own mind." "Very well. Stewart, come here." The boy, who had been sitting on my right opposite his grandfather, got up and moved round the table. Leonard rose with some difficulty and embraced the boy. What on earth was going on? "Stewart will go with you, Dab. You will need protection on the road and, from what he tells me, you don't have any soldiers where you are going." I said I was grateful to have Stewart to see me safely on my way, "but how will he get back to you?" Stewart came to my side. "I'm not coming back, Dab. I want to go to Inverthrum with you and look after you and the other two old men. Are they like us?" I nodded, unable to speak. "Good," he said, "then you will share me, just like here." I smiled. I had no idea whether Jack and Hamish would be as keen on a 15-year-old as they used to be, but somehow I thought that putting it to the test would be worth while. Leave-taking was brief. Leonard embraced his grandson. "Be brave, my boy." Steven and Stewart hugged. They had no words. The boy and I went to the electro, guarded by two soldiers. Stewart saluted them both and got in. We drove to Junction 44 where the barrier was moved and I drove carefully through. When we were a mile up the road Stewart opened his window and threw something out. In the rear view mirror I saw an armband lying in the road. ***** Stewart sat with an automatic on his knee throughout our journey, his eyes constantly scanning the road ahead. While we were on the old motorway I kept to around 40, but once I had to use ordinary roads even Leonard's 'maybe 30' became too high. I had to put lights on - the risk of hitting a tree or an animal was far greater than the risk of being caught by a scout. We stopped about three hours after leaving the motorway: it must have been nearly midnight. We'd passed Pitlochry an hour earlier, seeing nothing, creeping along with the lights out slightly faster than running speed. "I need to piss," said Stewart. The moon was brilliant, so instead of pulling into a lay-by I just stopped where we were. "Me too. A ten minute break will do me good. We've still got well over 100 miles to go - 5 hours if we're lucky." It was bitterly cold and as soon as we'd pissed we were back in the electro. We'd not talked much during the drive - we were each concentrating hard - so the ten minutes stretched to almost an hour. By the time I started the engine again each of us knew a lot more about the other. I put my hand on Stewart's leg. "I'm so glad you're here. I don't know what made you choose to leave your family, but ... thank you." He turned to me, his face clear in the moonlight. "I want to be with you, Dab. I don't know why, I just know that I do. In Carlisle I will always be the Leader's younger grandchild - respected but never for who I am myself. With you and your companions I will be the young hero who saves you all from perils untold ..." and his stifled laughter stopped him from going any further. "Besides," he said when he had gathered himself, "you do magic things in bed." It couldn't be that simple, could it? I had to agree that the things he did in bed were magic too, and then I remembered that someone in Carlisle would have to deal with a piss-soaked bed. I mentioned that little matter to him. "No they won't. I burned it all this morning. Now can we get on?" We were about 15 miles short of Lairg when Stewart spotted something. "What's that out there, on the left ahead of us?" The lights were off and I could see a dozen or so deer. We were miles from any habitation. "Can you get one?" He opened the window and took aim. They were about 300 metres away and I was impressed that one of them went down. The noise was incredible - I don't recommend sitting next to someone firing an automatic - even a single round - in an enclosed space. "I don't know if it's dead, Dab, I'll go and see." I put my hand out. "No, you stay here and guard the electro. Cover me in case there's anyone else around with a taste for venison." I got out stiffly - all-night drives aren't ideal at my age - and made my way over to the beast, ready to cut its throat. I had no need. The single round had hit it in its head. I went back to Stewart. "We'll come back for this when we've unloaded. With luck no-one will find it. A few crows won't eat too much of it." We got to Inverthrum at last. I sounded the horn for the last half mile so that they would know it was me. At the front door I saw Hamish with a lantern. I got out and hugged him. "I'll tell you everything when we've gone to pick up a deer." Jack appeared. "What's this about a deer? And who's your fierce passenger?" Stewart was standing by the electro with his automatic over his shoulder. "Introductions later. Stewart, will you go with Jack in the van and pick it up while Hamish and I take everything in?" Jack turned to Hamish. "He hasn't changed, has he." The four of us unloaded the electro, leaving everything outside. "Off you go. We'll have it all stowed before you get back." I heard Jack ask Stewart what they were to pick up. "Dinner, I think. I shot it." ***** As it got dark that afternoon the four of us were sitting round the wood fire in the study - it was almost as it had been in Uttoxeter 60 years earlier. The deer had been cut up and the smell of roasting filled the house. Stewart had told his story to the other two, and had simply said that he and I had been to bed together and that I had told him that there would be more of the same in Inverthrum. "You never fail to surprise me, Dab," said Jack, "not only do you turn up with someone young and vigorous to fuck us all, but you find one who can put a bullet through a deer's eye at 300 paces. I'm quite looking forward to when it's my turn." Hamish put his hand on Stewart's arm, "don't feel you have to, Stewart, it'll do him no harm to go on putting up with me." I reassured the poor boy. "They're always teasing. I think it's what keeps them sane." Stewart smiled sadly. "I'm glad I can relax here. Grandfather made everything so serious." Hamish got up to do whatever needed to be done to the meal and Jack continued a conversation which had evidently started while they were out bringing the carcase back. "He and I have been lovers since we were 15, and we've been here in this house for most of the time since then. He was born in Lairg. Dab, can I tell him about Billy?" "Of course you can. Stewart's part of the family now, so he ought to know the history. I'll go and help Hamish." I didn't want to be there, though I knew Stewart had to be told. ***** When Hamish called them through and the food was on the table Stewart put his arms round me. "Dab, I'm so so sorry." Old men weep easily. The 15-year-old who was holding me had no idea of the effect he was having on me. Two other old men exchanged a smile, unseen by us, wrapped up in each others' arms. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 105 as life begins anew in Inverthrum. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================