Date: Wed, 3 Feb 2021 17:07:45 +0000 (GMT) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line - Chapter 120 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 NOTE to the reader: "Peter Brown" aka badboi666 is, as you might guess, not in the first flush of youth: indeed he is well into the you'll-die-if-you-get-this-fucking-thing age cohort. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post a synopsis of what is still to come. Then, if he snuffs it, you can at least have some idea of what befell Dab in the end. The good news is that he has had his first Pfizer shot. =============================================================================== Chapter 120 Readers who draw the line between matters yellow and brown should avoid going to the Urination section where what happened in the shower room is described in considerable detail under "Posner and friends". On the other hand, the more curious know where to go ... ***** When we emerged from our adventure it was to find the other four all over each other on the bed. Billy looked up - he had Rufus attending to his cock - and smiled. "Bet you stink," he said. I approached; he allowed himself to inhale cautiously. "No, you're not too bad. They must have powerful soap in there." Hamish heard all this but wasn't in a position to make a decision about Jack as he was on his back with Zeke deep inside his arse. "Come and let me ... aaah! ... have a sniff ... aaah!" Evidently Zeke was hammering away nicely. Jack went over and planted a kiss. Hamish grinned. "Like Billy says, but you still pong a bit." Zeke managed to groan that Hamish would soon get used to it. "Why? Is he going to go on like that?" said Hamish. I looked at Jack. We both knew that our first (second in my case) exposure to such far-out behaviour wasn't going to be the last. He shrugged. "Possibly. Dab loved it as much as I did. You don't have to though." "It's not important," I said, "what matters is what you four have been up to." This was not the time for a family discussion. Just then Zeke gave a groan and came. "Whip it out!" cried Hamish, "on me, Zeke." In Zeke's place I'd have wanted to stay deeply buried in someone as gorgeous as Hamish until my cock ran dry, and probably until I'd washed all my cum out with piss ten minutes later - but Zeke was a professional who did what the client wanted. This client wanted to see a fountain of hot cum landing on his body, and that it exactly what all eight of us saw. For a pair of balls which, not half an hour ago, had fountained their contents all over Billy's belly it was a spectacular recovery. I moved next to Zeke. "If you can manage another in the morning I'll let you stay up my arse until you've finished" He looked at me in a glazed sort of way. "Yeah, Pos, I think I will. You don't smell too bad - was it fun in there?" "As much fun as you had in there," I said. "Pity we never had a private session at your place. One day maybe," he said. I was determined that we should find a way, now that Jack and I were in the brownies. "69" said Billy, and Rufus whipped round to allow Billy to get his mouth where it could do the most good. I wasn't going to get any sense out of either of them for as long as it took. Zeke got up. Hamish grinned wickedly, "that was good, Zeke," and he whispered, "better than Rufus." "Of course," whispered Zeke, "I'm the star." Jeremy moved closer. "Will you fuck me, Timms, now that Zeke's finished. The sight of all that spunk on you makes me itchy inside." Hamish put his arms out. "Only if you climb on top, Jeremy, I'm too fucking knackered to get up." They had been busy, then, in our absence. Jeremy wasted no time in climbing aboard, and was about to lower himself. "Hang on," said Clive, "you're not greased after the shower." He got a handful of his fisting goo and pushed three fingers up. Jeremy squirmed. "Mmm, nice, now let's get Timms up there." Hamish seemed unconcerned that Jeremy still bore a trace of what we'd been up to. He saw me watching and immediately understood what I was thinking. "I may not want to join in, Dab, but I can put up with a bit of a pong." That was the second time my name had been used, but nobody - none of the professionals, that is - seemed bothered. I decided it didn't matter much anyway. 'Dab' wasn't going to lead anyone to the Earl of Inchkeith who couldn't discover his identity from Mr B's credit card files. In 2041 - unlike in Bertie's day - what we were up to wasn't worth blackmailing anybody for. I wondered id any of my ancestors had made the discovery I'd made in the last half hour. There had been no sign of such activity in any of the written material. Maybe they kept quiet about such things. When I mentioned this to Jack later he said I was being stupid. "They wrote down enough stuff that would have got them thrown into prison, Dab, why on earth would they keep quiet about shit? They didn't exactly wave what they'd written all over Staffordshire." Hamish and Jeremy were nice to watch: two young males doing what young males were meant to do, varying from what evolution had targeted only in the place in which it was happening. Billy, his task complete, came and lay next to me as we watched them. He put his arms round me. "You loved that, didn't you - I'm glad, and glad that Jack's as keen as you are. At least you won't be on your own back home. Besides, I'll get more time with that one." Two minutes passed while we went on watching. Billy said, "had it ever occurred to you that arses ought to have clitorises in them?" I damn nearly choked with laughter. I hadn't been aware that Billy had any familiarity with such things. When I could speak again I asked him what he meant. "Well, the lesbians speak highly of them. Pam and I were chatting ... oh, it must have been when Jack was away in his first term ... and the subject of him and Hamish - as a couple - came up. I'm not sure how we got onto the details of how males and females experienced sex - neither of us had any idea about the other sex - and I said we got tingly feelings inside." "Yes, so do we, but where?" she said. "All over," I said, "and then I added, 'in my cock and it just spreads all through me.' I hadn't said 'cock' in front of her before." "Same with us then, except we have a thing called a clitoris in the same place." "So now you know, Billy," I said. "Yes. That's why I thought one of them up a boy's arse might be a nice thing to have. Doubles the fun." Hamish gave a deep growl and pushed up into Jeremy's arse. "Oh God, that's great," sighed Jeremy, praising as a true professional should. Billy and I knew that when Hamish fucked either of us we thought it was great too, so perhaps Jeremy was doing no more than speak the truth. He certainly joined in, because no sooner than Hamish started to pump spunk up into him his hand was busy, and a modest delivery of cum spurted onto Hamish's chest. Billy whispered to me that the volume wasn't all that great, "I suppose he came through there." I nodded, remembering happily. Jack had been watching too and it was he who moved over to where there was fresh young cum to be licked off his boyfriend. Hamish cradled his head as he dealt with what was on his belly. "Mmm, you're the best, Jack." There's something about the deep contentment of a 17-year-old who had just had an orgasm, and when the orgasm had been deep inside a 15-year-old the effects on his body - the glow on his skin, the smile on his face, the way he cuddles his lover - all conspire to enhance the beauty of the moment. Jack moved to glean what he could from Jeremy, still crouched on Hamish's belly. "He's right, Jack, you suck great," he said softly. By then we were all showing signs of weariness and there was a general agreement that whatever happened next should do so in the bed. "That way," said Zeke, "if anyone falls asleep no great harm will be done." His words were prophetic as Hamish and Jeremy, the two most recently active, curled up with Jack and Clive and were soon all asleep. Zeke lay down next to me, his hand on my cock. "More?" I shook my head. "I'm done, but I'll hold you to the promise of a fuck in the morning." I reached for his cock and found it half-hard. "Nice," I whispered, "keep it warm until I get it up my arse." ***** Some of my bedfellows were up and at it before I woke. I'd been dreaming about something and in my dream a hand grabbed my cock. I woke suddenly to find that there was indeed a hand on my cock, but it certainly hadn't been grabbing. Zeke was gently stroking me, foreskin and all. He was kneeling beside me watching my face for signs of life. "Ready?" he whispered, pointing to his cock. I looked around. Billy and Rufus were still asleep on my other side. Jack and Hamish were having a gentle good-morning 69 (it was how they generally started the day at home) and Jeremy had the whole of Clive's cock down his throat, as well as several of his fingers up Clive's arse. Perhaps that was how they generally greeted the dawn. "Yeah, let's get frisky," I whispered, "on my back." Zeke kindly allowed me to savour the heady aroma of a first-thing-in-the-morning-after-a-busy-night cock, and the effect on me was instantaneous. It helped that his hands were busy too. "You're on fire, Pos." "Mmm." I like the long leisurely fucks you sometimes get in bed in the morning, and that one I got from Zeke that day was memorable for so many reasons. It lasted nearly half an hour, which for a before-breakfast fuck is pretty unusual in my experience. Towards the end it had an audience of six - Billy and Rufus had come to (and cum too) by then - and each one of them lent a hand (in one or two cases lips and tongues were brought into play). If Jack and Hamish's 69 had led to any exchange of fluids then their ability to deliver again only 20 minutes later was pretty impressive. They knelt on either side on my chest and wanked onto me - there was so much they can't have cum in each other's mouth - and Billy leaned over from behind my head to hoover me clean. Naturally this placed his cock right where my mouth could wish it 'good morning' and have a good nuzzle at his arse crack. That was when Zeke came. Jeremy's right hand brought me to the same delightful conclusion ten seconds later. Zeke, Jack, Hamish and I were the first four in the shower. Hamish looked about. "Is this where you did it last night? It doesn't stink." Jack put his hand out to him. "It was fun all right. I think Dab's going to be a fan. I know I am." Four shower heads can clean four bodies in next to no time, and we were soon out, allowing the other four to take our places. We four were dressed by 8.30 and on our way home soon after. While I had Zeke on his own I told him again that we would like to try to get him to Uttoxeter. "Can you bring Jeremy too?" said Jack. "I told you, it isn't possible," he said, "I'd love to, but Mr B keeps us under lock and key - well, not literally, but we can't do house calls." I gave him my zip number asking him to zip me if ever things changed. "We'll make it worth your while, Zeke, and if you can wangle Jeremy as well ... well, you can work out what might happen." Zeke grinned, "it's not me you have to persuade, Pos." +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Jack and Hamish had been up to Inverthrum with Hester a month before the Coronation to harvest the cabbages and to let Hester see for herself what the land was like. We were lucky in the timing. President Leigh made his idiotic announcement about trade in his Fourth of July rally speech only three months later. The Electric War (it wasn't called that at the time, since no-one knew what had caused the global chaos) happened five days later. As I've said, it took almost four years for the boffins to find a way to by-pass the billions of electronic gizmos that no longer worked. Luckily grapes continued to grow in the increasingly Mediterranean climate, although the machinery there and in the brewery had to be converted to the kind of machinery which had been in use 100 years earlier. Thank goodness for old-fashioned diesel for working pumps and heating. This meant employing more staff, which ameliorated to a degree the wholesale unemployment in many industries. We were lucky as the demand for alcohol never dropped. Jack had been at home from college when it happened. Like everyone else we assumed that when things stopped working there was something wrong in the house. It took a few days for us to discover that it wasn't us, it wasn't Uttoxeter, it wasn't even England. The whole bloody world had suddenly gone back to about 1950. Jack was the first to understand what it meant. "There's going to be starvation unless we start growing a lot more to eat. That means college is even more important. Dab, you told me once how Bertie, was it? had seen all the grounds here growing food during the second war. We need to do that. If Hamish and I get on with it we can plough up the lawns and get something useful in the ground." I called Hester and Dunstable to a meeting that afternoon in the office. "Tell them what you told me, Jack." When he had finished Hester said that she agreed with every word. "It won't come this year, but most of our food comes from overseas, and we have to assume that a lot of what other countries export will be kept to feed their own people if this carries on. I hope it won't, but we must be prepared." Over the next two weeks every scrap of ground not already productive was planted by Jack and Hamish. Hester devised an overall plan ("I'd get you to do it, Jack, but you haven't got time to do the planning as well as the ploughing"). The front lawn was returned to the state in which Bertie had seen it. I even allowed the hallowed area on which Royalty had stepped to go under the plough. "I'm not letting something 140 years ago get in the way of the turnips which may keep us all alive a day or two longer when the jillies come for us," I said. The evening the work was finished I arranged for everyone, staff and all, to eat with us as a celebration. Billy helped Mrs Morley carry everything through. She was not too happy about eating with us, but when I explained that I needed the whole household together she acquiesced. "I don't like making speeches," I said when Jack had given everyone coffee, "but today is different. The world has changed and we must accept that it won't ever be the same again. Since I was born this house has been my home and as I've brought all kinds of waifs and strays to live here you have always welcomed them. Whether the world will be as tolerant of odd people like most of us is something we will all find out. But as long as a Cunliffe lives here it will always be a home to all of you, and to anyone you love. Tomorrow Jack and Hamish will set out for Inverthrum to see what needs to be done. I intend to buy 20 acres or so of adjoining land and that will mean a commercially useful amount can be grown. We all know that things are getting hotter and what we planned even a year ago on 2 acres isn't going to be the right answer for ten times as much land with all that's happened in the last month. None of us has any idea what England will look like in ten years' time -" "Or Scotland," said Hamish. "Or Scotland, or anywhere else, so we must be willing to change, and to change quickly, if we have to. One last thing. We may need to defend the Estate. Mr Dunstable has put a plan together and in the next few days he and I will go through it in detail. Alongside everything else zippers ceased to work. There had been nothing from Zeke: I wasn't greatly surprised, but I was disappointed that such a promising source of fun wouldn't be there in future. Still, there were much bigger problems to face. ***** When they got back from Inverthrum Jack was clear what needed to be done. He and Hester and I sat down with Dunstable and thrashed it all out. The details aren't important, but we bought the 20 acres without difficulty. The owners wanted cash and we agreed a deal within a couple of months. When, years later, I took over the much larger acreage adjoining there was no formality, and no money changed hands. By then all legal structures had been abandoned. If you wanted land you occupied it and defended it vigorously. Uttoxeter and Inverthrum grew far more than we needed of course, but it was easy to find markets locally for all our surplus. Financially the Estate was secure, and everyone who depended on it was secure, at least from food worries. In the early few years there was always the worry about jillies. In the weeks after the Electric War there had been a lot on trouble in many of the cities - news was still available in those days - but it seemed to sort itself out. We never had any trouble either in Uttoxeter or Inverthrum. Dunstable told me, probably some time in 2044, that he had heard the army had been called in to quell rioting in London. According to him there had been several hundred killed. That put an end to the jillies there, apparently. "The trouble with that," I said, "is that they'll move into the country where the food is." Years passed and the jillies never came (though the turnips did, as did more fruit and vegetables than the Estate had ever grown). The brewery, converted to the old-fashioned methods, turned out more barrels than ever, as did the vineyard. Income from the shops and offices was much reduced, but we managed. Millions of people experienced real poverty for the first time since Bertie had been a boy, and as most medicine was manufactured abroad (and in any case relied for its manufacture on advanced machinery which no longer worked) there was virtually nothing doctors could do for any illness that their great-great-grandfathers could not have done. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It wasn't all gloomy, however. In the months after the Electric War the post continued to operate, although letters took longer to arrive. Early in December a letter arrived from London in an unfamiliar handwriting. It was from Zeke. "Dear Pos, "I hope you don't mind me writing. My zipper's no good any more. When everything went wrong we didn't know what to do. Mr B kept the club open and we still had men coming (ha! ha!). But a few days ago he said he was closing. There's been some rioting - not near us at Marble Arch, but in the City - and he thinks it's too dangerous running a queer club if there's rioting. Anyway, he's going to shut soon. That means I can come and see you if you're still interested. I am! And so's Jer. He and Clive split up by the way. Clive's a real cunt - he seemed so nice and gentle but something Jer did really pissed him off and Clive thumped him. Bastard. "I expect you're wondering how I got your address. When Mr B said he was closing I said you had wanted me to come and see you, and now the only way I could get in touch was if Mr B told me who you were and where you lived. Blimey! An earl! "I hope you and Billy and Jack and Hamish are all right. Can Jer and me come and stay for a while? "Lots of love from Zeke and Jer xxxxxxxxxxx!" Jack wouldn't be back from college for another week - he'd agreed that continuing his course was vital - so it was only to Billy and Hamish that I showed the letter over dinner. "Are you going to let them?" asked Billy. "I can't see why not. It'll be good fun. I've no idea how long he means by 'for a while' and I've no idea what either of them can do to support themselves. They've both been with Mr B since they stopped going to school and I don't suppose they're exactly bursting with exam passes. If they come up here for the winter they'll have time to sort themselves out. We can always use fit workers here and in Sutherland - there's 20-odd acres to cultivate." "Does he give an address?" "Just the club." "Well you must write today and fix it," said Hamish, "because they may get kicked out and no-one'll know where they are." "Do you mind if they come here, Hamish?" I said, knowing that certain activities might put a barrier between him and Jack. "Why on earth would I mind, Dab? I loved it as much as you did." He allowed a pause. "Besides, Jack might have persuaded me ... you know." I wrote that evening, telling him that he and Jeremy were welcome to come to Uttoxeter and stay as long as they wanted. I told him the train times - some were still running, luckily - and said I'd meet them at Stoke on 19 December - two weeks ahead. That should give the letter time to arrive. Jack would be home the Friday before, so the four of us would have six days to work out what arrangements needed to be made. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 121 as 19 December arrives. Feedback from "Posner and friends" would be welcome as it might determine future events to some extent. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================