Date: Sun, 8 Mar 2020 20:58:46 +0000 (UTC)
From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com>
Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 44

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 44

"Tell me what you two get up to," I murmured.  I was lying on my bed,
propped up by two pillows.  Edward, still hard, and Gordon, soft after his
first spectacular orgasm, were snuggled up on either side of me.  "Are you
the only wicked boys in the choir?"  "We're the only two who like being
fucked, if that's what you mean.  We're certainly not the only two who've
discovered what our cocks are really for.  You should see what goes on in
the dormitory."  "I can imagine, but that's all boys together, right?  You
two seem to have expanded your ambitions.  Do the undergraduates in the
choir get to play too?"  Edward snorted.  "Try and stop them - well, try
and stop the queer ones.  Are you queer, Dab?  I am.  I love it."  It
wasn't really my job to suggest that at 12 his decision to be queer was
perhaps a little premature, so I merely agreed that I was indeed in the
same camp.  Gordon said that only three of the choirmen were interested in
"us trebles", a point of view amended by Edward's "as far as we know".  All
three had, at some stage in the last four terms - that being the period
when the two of them had been in the choir - made advances to one or other
of them: advances which had been encouraged and which had led to repeat
assignations.  "We agreed ages ago that we would share any info about who
fancied either of us, and who we wanted to let fuck us."

I didn't seek any details - much better that if I were to encounter any of
the choirmen once I came up I wouldn't be aware that he and I had ploughed
the same furrow.  "Does - what's his name? - Colin know about your
affairs?"  This seemed to be the most likely leakage connecting Bell with
whatever was going on.  Edward said that it paid everyone involved to be
aware of no more than he needed to know.  "Don't be such a pompous ass, Ed,
Dab's only asking if Colin knows.  Colin has arse rights to any boy, but
he's sensible enough to tread carefully.  He's fucked both of us but we
don't think he's fucked any of the others.  Not yet anyway, but it's only
February."  Edward said that he and Gordon sucked Colin's cock pretty
often, and he knew that at least one other treble was similarly called upon
to perform.

Gordon pointed out that I had asked whether Colin knew about what they got
up to.  "No.  He may guess that three of the men take us into bed, but he's
careful not to know.  And in case you're wondering, Dab, no-one knows we're
here.  Are you ready for more?"  A mere 15 minutes had passed, but the
brave lad thought it worth sending a hand down to my cock to test for any
kind of response.  I smiled.  "I don't think your hand is the most accurate
bit of you to make that decision," but Edward, still possessed of all the
spunk he had arrived with, beat him to it and his lips were soon doing nice
things to me - things the niceness of which were rapidly reawakening my
interest.  "Much more of that and I'll cum in your mouth, Edward.  Is that
where you really want it?"  Edward disengaged.  "I want both, Dab, and no
doubt we'll have oodles of chances next year.  But today I want it up my
arse.  You've fucked Gordon and if you don't fuck me as well then he's
going to keep on bragging about how good it was and I'll have to thump him
to shut him up.  I don't think Colin will take kindly to having the second
prettiest of his cherubs sporting a black eye."  Gordon took none of this
seriously, I was pleased to note, not even the 'second prettiest' bit.  "Go
fuck yourself, Edward, you know we're both equally pretty.  Colin's told us
often enough."

"If I am to fuck you then, Edward, it's time I started."  Edward was a bit
taken aback by this.  "I thought you said we had until we had to get ready
for evensong.  That's not for two hours."  I turned to Gordon.  "I'm sorry
about this, Gordon - next time he goes first.  But you can join in if you
like.  Edward, what makes you think I won't need most of the two hours?"
Edward's lascivious grin made it clear that the idea of being fucked - or
being prepared to be fucked - for two hours was highly agreeable.

"Get on your back then, lad, I want to enjoy getting you ready.  You saw
what I did with Gordon, but then I was keen to fuck a nice innocent
12-year-old.  Now that my balls have had a nice little exercise I can keep
my cock under control for much longer, even though the second innocent
12-year-old is just as sexy."  "Aint no innocent 12-year-olds here, Dab,
but if you can make do with one stained through and through with sin and
wickedness then I'm your man," said Edward, wriggling into a comfortable
position on my bed.

"Boy," I said, "they're much more my cup of tea."

He needed no instruction about the placement of his knees.  I was down
between his legs paying homage to his arse - his gorgeous arse - as soon as
he was displaying the treasures.  Hairless, naturally, but as far as size
was concerned he had the sexual equipment of a boy a god couple of years
older.  His balls were of a decent size and his cock had clearly left
'decent size' some time earlier.  It was hard of course (I wish I could
remember how big it had been when we started, but then my eyes were only
for Gordon: I would have to study it after we'd finished) and a good 6
inches of uncut randy boyhood.  If his development was as advanced in his
balls as it was in his cock then when he came it would be worth seeing -
and worth tasting too.  If I managed things carefully he would cum on his
belly long before my cock got anywhere near his arse.  I bent forward; my
eyes had feasted long enough.

I placed my lips an inch from his arsehole and blew gently.  The cold of my
breath made him twitch.  I blew again.  This time he was expecting it and I
saw a slight movement ... the third breath led to a further movement - his
arse was gently opening.  I rewarded him with a kiss and his arse lips
actually moved as though they were kissing me back.  I hadn't expected that
- Edward was evidently a highly-experienced bottom.  Time to step back a
little, Dab, you said you could keep going for damn nearly two hours.  I
put both hands under his hips and hoisted his arse off the bed.  "Mmm, I
like what you're doing, Dab, no-one's done this before."  My tongue made
initial contact with Edward's body where his arse crack started at the base
of his spine.  (I will spare you his noises as the next hour progressed,
but you may take it that I was glad to have sported my oak to keep the
sound as muffled as possible.)  My tongue gradually ventured further and
further, returning whence it had started before each forward journey began.
After several minutes it had reached his arsehole, which I could see was
red and surrounded with engorged lips.  My tongue skipped over them each
time it travelled nearer and nearer to his balls.  Suddenly, after about
ten minutes I took one of his balls into my mouth ("aaah!") and gently
rolled it in my mouth; the second ball received the same treatment a few
minutes later, and I noticed that the pool of pre-cum on his belly was
worth pointing out to Gordon.  "You can lick that up if you want, but do
not touch his cock.  OK?"  Gordon needed no second invitation, lapping up
Edward's bounty with gusto.  Not a new thing then.

"Oh, for God's sake, Dab, fuck me before I burst."  I moved up to his face
and looked him in the eyes. "No, little one, you must be patient.  I'll
fuck you when I'm good and ready." I touched my lips to his and allowed our
tongues a brief moment of contact.  I wanted him screaming for release when
release came.  I went back down to paradise alley. This time I went
straight for his arse lips ("about fucking time ... aaah!"), the latter
remark being occasioned by my tongue going into him.  I can't get my tongue
far in, but judging from his reaction no-one had got any tongue up his arse
before.  "I'm near, Dab," he breathed.  "Do you want it in your mouth,
Gordon?" I said, "if so, get over here."  He was in position before I'd
finished asking him, his head resting on Edward's belly - already heaving
as his muscles began to contract - and his eyes glued to the
foreskin-retracted head of his friend's cock, glistening with
already-delivered promise - promise of more to come - and, his mouth open,
he waited.

I pushed a finger in all the way.  Edward gave a cry and a stream of
adolescent spunk shot from his cock straight into Gordon's mouth ... and
another ... Gordon moved forward and if there were more shots they were
invisible.  The rippling muscles on Edward's belly showed that there had in
fact been six volleys of spunk altogether, all gratefully and greedily
consumed by Gordon.  While this was happening my finger stayed where it was
- deep inside the boy, but not seeking his prostate.  Not yet.

Gordon, his mouth full (as I was to discover) of his friend's spunk, moved
to Edward's face.  Both boys had smiles; both both were looking into the
other's eyes; both boys nodded; lips were joined; spunk was shared, mixed
with active tongues.  These two weren't just fellow trebles, I decided, or
even just fellow fuck-buddies.  No, there was emotional attachment there.
I smiled - I was probably grinning like an ape, but I smiled inside - this
was the sort of thing Billy and I got up to, if the emotion-ometer was to
be believed.  Give them time, Dab, there's no hurry.  Edward's tongue is
busy inside Gordon's mouth; Edward's sperms are busy swimming their futile
journey into the blind alley that is Gordon's stomach; my finger is deep
inside the hot furnace that is Edward's arse' my cock is hard, but in no
hurry (I have it well trained); I allow the two boys their moment - their
long languorous moment - of union.  After a couple of minutes Gordon
detaches himself.  "Your spunk tastes fantastic, Edward.  I think Dab's
made it richer than usual."  I was inclined to agree, but kept my peace,

"Time to carry on?" I said.  "Mmm."  My tongue reprised, but in a shortened
form, its earlier journeys.  It took only five minutes before I ventured
from sucking his second testicle to placing my tongue at the root of his
cock - now fully erect again - and slowly licking up its underside, along
his swollen urethra.  I did this half a dozen times (with increasing
difficulty as poor Edward was writhing) before finally going the extra inch
and - for the first time - making tongue-glans contact "ah Christ! at
last!"

His recently-come cock tasted spicy. Gordon had done a good job, but my
skilled tongue had made Edward leak more, and the drops oozing made for an
invigorating cocktail of flavours - boy most obvious among them.  I spent
several minutes with his cock in my mouth, my tongue and lips seeking (and
finding) all the flavours that made Edward Edward.  Edward was moaning
quietly.  "Oh fuck, Dab, this is unreal.  No-one's done this to me before.
When are you going to fuck me, you fucking stud, you?"  No-one had called
me a stud before, and I wasn't wholly convinced it was a compliment.  Studs
surely just stuck it in and went for it, didn't they?  Whereas what I was
doing was much more artistic, surely?  Still, I forgave him - after all, if
I was doing my job properly his brain wasn't expected to be 100% focused on
choosing the precise words from his vocabulary.  What really mattered was
that he wanted to be fucked.  I knew - as he did not - that his wish would
soon be met.

"Your cock tastes nice, Edward," I said, "I think I'll want to sample it
again one day."  Both boys laughed.  "Try and keep yourself away," said
Gordon.  Gordon, I noticed, was stroking his cock as the activity on the
bed progressed.  "Keep at it," I said, "if you want to wank make sure you
cum on his belly."  "No," protested Edward, "face."  I was impressed.
Having someone cum on your face is a requirement normally associated with
lads rather older than 12.  Still, I wasn't going to complain.

Time to get on with it, Dab, I thought.  I left a last lingering lick on
Edward's cock and wriggled down the bed.  A minute or two reminding his
arse that it should open to welcome an invader ... the invader's wet
cockhead rubbing over the lip-guardians to assure it that it would be
welcome ... the lips signalling that 'welcome' was an understatement
... and at last, rather more than 50 minutes since Edward's knees joined
his ears, my cock started to enter his body.  "At fucking last, Dab."  "At
fucking last, Edward: this is where the fun really starts," I whispered.

I decided that this fuck would be hard and deep - I knew he would be
expecting a long slow one, given all that earlier talk about two hours
being needed - and the more memorable therefore for being unexpected.  I
had long ago realised that there would be a lot more fucks with these two
in the next year or two.  All the more reason to make this one special.  So
all the way in hard.  "Oooh! yessss!"  Out again, pause, all the way in
hard.  Rather to my surprise I lasted a lot longer than usual - it was
getting on for ten minutes before I got the scrotum-signal that things were
urgent.  I accelerated ... "nearly there" ... "yeah" (panted) "fill me,
Dab, I'm there too" ... at last my balls fired one, two, three, four hard
jets as far up this boy as I could, five, six, dribbles really ... he came,
his arse muscle tightening on me, forcing out two more little jets.  Ah
fuck! Edward, you're good, kid ... ah fuck, Dab, you're good.

This sweaty mutual admiration moment lasted a couple of minutes.  I slipped
out, my cock followed by a worthwhile leakage of spunk.  Gordon, no slouch
when it came to such things, had moved to where his next feast was likely
to manifest itself.  I saw what he wanted, so moved out of the way, rolling
onto my back.  We didn't wank spunk stains on the bed after all.  "Sort him
first," I muttered.  Gordon needed no second invitation.  It was obvious
they were in the habit of harvesting cum from each other's arses, and
Gordon was in no hurry to reap his reward.  I lay back enjoying the sight
of two 12-year-old cum-fiends enjoying themselves.  On this occasion there
was no sharing however.  When Gordon had finished he turned to me.  "Can
Edward do you, Dab?  Is that OK?"  It was fine by me, I thought, I don't
care which of them takes my cock into his mouth.  "I should be delighted,"
I said, "come and get it, Edward."

He made a thorough job.  By the time I was returned to normal it was well
after 5.30.  "Do you need to shower?"  "Not, there's not time," said
Edward, "but the cleaning up's been pretty efficient, hasn't it.  If anyone
sniffs the signs of wickedness we'll soon hear about it."  "Does that
bother you?"  "God no.  The only ones who know the signs are the only ones
who fuck us.  They may be curious to know who's been up there, but we won't
let on.  Will we?"  Gordon agreed.  "We don't tell, Dab."  "Off you go
them," I said, "see you in October."  "See you in half an hour, more like,"
said Edward as he climbed back into his clothes.  Two all-too-brief kisses
and they were gone, leaving only a spunky memory.  Half an hour later two
cherubs smiled faintly from within their surplices.  We didn't sing about
the coming of the Lord that time, thank goodness.

*****

Back at school the routine seemed to drag.  Solly did his best (as did I -
it was the least I could do) but he paled beside Edward and Gordon,
particularly sweet sexy Edward.  Edward, who lived in London ... could I
find a way of getting him on his own with me before October?

Bell was keen to hear about how things had gone.  I was happy to tell him
about the extended interview, and he was amused to hear about the musical
aspects.  "I'm glad Mr Fagan gave me such a thorough course, not least
because as well as helping with the interview he opened my ears to things I
find I love."  Bell smiled.  "I'm glad, and I hope there were other
benefits."  I smiled: I wasn't planning to give anything away.  He made it
easy for me however.  "Colin Marsh and I were contemporaries as
undergraduates at Fisher before you were born, and our interests have
remained unchanged since then.  No" - for he saw me about to interrupt - "I
have not said anything regarding you, Cunliffe, not in any detail, that is
- merely that you were a kindred spirit who should be welcomed."  I had no
idea what to make of this.  "You teach me Maths, but that's all.
Prendergast and Fagan have taken the matter of student instruction a little
further - always welcome of course - but you ..."  I didn't finish the
sentence.  "No, you're right, Cunliffe ... Dab, I think" (I smiled) "I
restrict myself within the school.  Not always easy, as I'm sure you can
understand."  I nodded.  "Besides," he went on, "you are outside my range
of interests."  He paused; I said nothing - my being too old for him (not
too young, surely) was no great disappointment - and then quietly he went
on.  "If you were lucky enough to find time to entertain the delightful
Edward Hughes then you will know where my preferences lie."  I nodded -
even if I had said nothing the bloody red hair would have done for me.  "A
special boy," I said.  Bell smiled.  "Indeed.  But let us say no more
... Dab.  Now, differential equations, I think."

*****

That term went uneventfully.  My head was stuffed with differential
equations and other such things.  My arse was stuffed from time to time by
Will, who was always willing to grab a fuck where he could.  And Solly's
arse was rarely undisturbed for more than 24 hours.  It was strange that in
our fifth year the range of boys with whom we had sex was so restricted: in
our Pup years there were a dozen or more people to fuck with: now there
were only a handful.  Still, Billy and Jack awaited as the Easter holidays
approached.

*****

When Rivers turned up in the Rolls he wasn't alone.  Billy was with him.
"This is nice," I said, "we should have thought of this years ago."  "We
need to talk," said Rivers.  "While you've been filling your head with
education Billy has been learning something far more useful."  I turned to
my lover with an enquiring look, but he said nothing.  The two of them must
have planned all this, I thought.  "Billy had passed his driving test,"
said Rivers, "and it's been a big secret."  Billy could contain himself no
longer.  "I've been having lessons since you went back to school, and
Rivers said I was ready to sit the test.  I did it last week, and I
passed."  "Well done," I said, "but why?  Can't Rivers drive you about?"
Rivers snorted.  "I can't drive everyone who asks, Dab, it doesn't work
like that.  You're my employer, and I drive you.  Billy doesn't get to be
driven just because he's your boyfriend."  Billy said nothing.  Was there
more to be said?

It was Rivers who broke the silence.  "The Rolls is expensive to run, Dab,
and it runs on petrol.  They've decided that petrol will be phased out soon
- well, not that soon, but in the next 8 years - so we will need to buy
something else.  Billy and I have talked about this, now that he's passed,
and we have a plan for you."  "Let's hear it," I said.  This was all very
unexpected.  I knew about the petrol business of course - the government
had been screwing up its courage on that issue for ages - but I hadn't
given any thought to what it might mean.  Apart from the Rolls we had a lot
of agricultural machinery which would probably also be affected.  Bugger.
It would mean a session with Dunstable.

Billy took up the cudgels.  "If we buy an electro then you and I can drive
about in it ourselves.  Or I can drive until you pass your test, Dab."  I
hadn't thought about learning to drive, but now that Billy had planted the
seed I began to like the idea.  Electros came in all sizes by then, and a
little sporty type might be quite fun.  "So they do a Rolls electro?" I
asked.  Rivers thought not.  "There's no great hurry though."

By the time we got home Billy and I had had discussed the matter of an
electro (I hadn't told him, but I planned to get Rivers on one side to sort
out buying one for Billy to use, and for me to learn on) and were already
sketching out the tour we would make in the Summer holidays.  Rivers
laughed.  "Pass your test first, Dab, before you start planning your first
adventure."  I'll get you, I thought, I'll have licked this thing sooner
than you think.  A plan was forming - a plan neither Rivers nor Billy would
know about.

Jack was jumping up and down as we drove up.  He was always a delight to
see - his enthusiasm at having me back was infectious.  He restrained
himself until I was out of the Rolls then flung himself at me.  "Welcome
home, Dab," he murmured, "I've so much to tell you."  I've got a fair
amount to tell you too, I thought, deciding that my afternoon with Gordon
and Edward might be something he'd wish to hear about.


===============================================================================
The fun continues in Chapter 45 as my motoring skills - and other things -
are advanced.

Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped
nifty a few quid.
===============================================================================