Date: Wed, 25 Mar 2020 16:32:45 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line 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 48 The following day, early in March of 1876, when I was 25, is wholly unmemorable until around nine-thirty in the evening. Robert had led me to an establishment barely 300 yards from the hotel where I had been staying earlier. It had an unremarkable door with a little grill across which a shutter could be drawn. I now understand, of course, why it was so discreet, but when I had passed it on two or three occasions but a few days earlier it has quite escaped my notice. Naturally this was precisely what the Proprietors wished to happen. Upon our arrival Robert knocked in a curious way - three sharp raps then a pause, then two more. Upon his fifth rap the shutter was opened and I could see a face - or part of a face - peering out. "Armageddon," said Robert quietly; "Gomorrah," said the other, although to what purpose I know not, for as he said it I heard volts being drawn back and the door opened, barely enough for Robert and me to be admitted. Inside it was the very opposite of the gloomy and forbidding exterior: there were lamps and wall-hangings in the vestibule where we left our hats and coats. I was amused to see that the officer in charge of receiving these was a pretty boy who would certainly not have seen his fifteenth Christmas. I began to appreciate Robert's kindness in bringing me there. "Come through, Seth, and we will get ourselves something to drink while you admire the scenery," said Robert, rubbing his hands together. The only seating was long sofas - settees as some call them - large enough for three to take their ease. We sat and ere twenty seconds had passed another pretty boy - a year or two older than the Custodian of the hats and coats - stood before us smiling. "Good evening, Robert, Sir. What is your pleasure?" Robert smiled at the lad. "Good evening, Henry, this is Seth -" (Henry gave a small bow which I returned with a somewhat embarrassed nod) "- we should like a brandy. And the list too, I think." What list, I wondered, for Robert had chosen our refreshment without consulting one (or me, for although I am fond of brandy I should rather have had a pint of ale). Henry appeared with the glasses and handed me a little leather-embossed booklet. "Here is the list, Seth. I hope you find what you seek in it," and he went away. I watched him go - I confess the spectacle of his firm buttocks in his tight trousers was invigorating. I had though my observing him was covert, but Robert had noticed. "Nice arse, hasn't he, Seth." It was fortunate that I had not yet put my glass to my lips, for if I had much of the contents would have spilled. I put the glass down and collected myself. I turned to Robert. "Indeed it is, and I am thinking that you brought me here precisely in order for me to see it." Robert smiled. "Yes and no, Seth. To see it - yes, but not precisely that. You may do much more than see it should you wish. Look in the list." To my astonishment the list was nothing less than a list of twelve men and boys, each of whom were willing - for a consideration (set out on the opposite page in considerable detail) - to entertain patrons in rooms set aside for the purpose. Robert moved closer to me on the sofa and looked over my shoulder. The list was arranged alphabetically by the Christian names of those offering themselves. "That way," explained Robert, "you have to read about all of them. If it was arranged by age, say, then you would only look at the boys or men of the age you wanted." It also had the pleasing consequence that I was under no need - at that time, early in our relationship - to admit to Robert that my preference was for a boy much younger than he. The list ranged alphabetically from Adam to Thomas; in size of cock - a facet of those offering themselves illustrated by photographs (or in a few cases, by drawings) of the cock in its quiet as well as its aroused state - ranging (aroused) from 6 inches or so to a prodigious 11 inches (this on a blackfellow, or so the photograph implied); in age (my patience was rewarded) from 14 to 40. "Have you experienced any of these, Robert?" He leaned over and, turning over the pages, pointed at three. The blackfellow was one of them. "Is he ... real? It looks impossible." Robert smiled. "Oh, he's real, Seth, but while he has a mighty cock he has little skill with it. May I be straightforward?" It seemed a strange question, given where we were and why we were there. "Of course," I said. "Well then, he waves it in front of you, then he sticks it in - right in - then he fucks you as fast as he can, not unlike an animal concerned only to spend and thinking nothing of the person paying him. It was an experience, you may be sure, but not one I'd wish to repeat." The blackfellow (Jason) was described as 28, and of the services he offered "Fuck: £2" was the least expensive. Robert turned two pages and pointed at David (27), who would also fuck for £2 but had a large repertoire of other exotic activities, the most extravagant being likely to set a patron back well over 10 guineas. He also pointed to Mark (25) who was not offering to fuck patrons but to allow them to fuck him for £3. "Why is fucking Mark more costly than having David fuck you?" I said, curious to understand the system. "Wait till you see Mark." It was time for me to browse. Now that Robert had made it clear that my age was his preferred one (for his three chosen companions were all close to me in years) I felt able to let him know that we would not be competing for the same hospitality. "My choices, like yours, would be three. Henry is one," I said, "and John is another, if he's the boy who took our hats." Robert nodded, "you like them young then, Seth. I think your third will be Luke?" I smiled. Luke was described in the list as being 16 (like Henry) and willing to accept a gentleman "in his mouth or up his arse" for £4. "It seems that the younger the supplier of pleasure the higher the price," I said. "True, Seth, but you would not expect it otherwise, for is not veal tastier than beef? Now, this is how the list works. Henry will return shortly and he will ask if we have made a choice. If we have then the man - or boy - will come and join us here and talk about what service we require. He then reports to the Master who comes to receive payment. Once the money is handed over the person chosen returns and we are led away. After that - well, you can imagine." He chuckled. "Well, Seth, have you chosen?" "Before I tell you, Robert, have you made a choice? If so, are we to be in separate rooms?" "Aye, for each man or boy has his own room. Sometimes if a patron wishes two companions they will work together, but such a thing is rare - certainly I have never done it. My choice tonight is David." He waited. I was torn. All three of the boys in the list sounded delightful. John, who really was only 14, or so the list averred, would have been an ideal companion, but something led me to Luke, and it was his name in said quietly to Robert. He must have caught Henry's eye, for the boy was beside us moments later. "We've made our choices, Henry," said Robert. "Tonight I will have David - the £5 session." Henry smiled turned to me. "This is your first time with us, Seth, so I should perhaps explain a few matters not written in the list. John and I are brothers, and patrons who like companions of our age often invite both of us. If you were to do that the price is reduced: instead of £4 for me and £5 for John you may have both of us for £7." It seemed a very attractive proposition, and I told him so. "Tell me, Henry, is this place open every night? Were I to return on my own would I be granted entry?" "Every night, Seth, excepting Sunday. When you leave and your hat and coat are returned to you you will receive an envelope in which you will find the word you should speak at the grill when you return. It will be your word, and the door-keeper will know it is you." "In that case, Henry, I shall have Luke tonight and you or your brother on my next visit." Henry got up. "Very good, gentlemen," and off he went with his order. A few minutes later two men approached us - or rather a man and a boy - a very handsome boy. I felt my cock begin to harden at the prospect of two hours with him. Robert moved aside and I realised that I should do the same, allowing these pretty fellows to squeeze into the small space between us. The older one said that he was David, and Robert patted the sofa beside him. Luke sat down and the boy - who quietly told me that he was Luke - sat beside me. The sofa had been designed for closeness, and very welcome it was. Luke put his lips close to my ear. "I want you to fuck me, Seth, and if you are able I should like you to spunk in my mouth," he whispered. I whispered that I should be happy to do both those things. His lips brushed mine - just the faintest touch, as though a butterfly had chanced by. This boy was going to be delight, I thought. The while, Robert and David had been discussing those things which would pass between them, but of their converse I heard nothing. I heard a chuckle from David - whatever the £5 session would entail (I had failed to read properly those parts of the list concerning older men) it was one which was amusing to at least one of the participants. Luke and David got up to go. "Room 8," whispered Luke. "What happens now? I said. Before Robert could answer a large man of perhaps 50 came towards us. "Good evening, Sirs. Robert, I need £5, and you, Sir -" "Seth." "- Seth, welcome, I need £4." We delved into our purses and the Master soon had his £9. After he had gone Robert explained that the payment allowed us up to two hours, and that unless my desires were what he called `unusual' there would be no extra sum to pay at the end. "Unusual, Robert, what does that involve?" He made no answer, but told me that whichever of us was finished first should attend the other on the sofa, "and together we shall share the secrets of the next two hours. Now let us go. I am in Room 3, and you?" "8." "Well then, my fine Seth, go and fuck your boy." Room 8 was, like the others, on the upper floor. The door was ajar as I approached and I saw a dim light. On entering I saw a large bed, a stand by the bed upon which were placed several unusual items, a cupboard for my clothes and a commode. Luke was sitting, still clothed, at the foot of the bed. He held out his arms. "Welcome, Seth. I hope you will enjoy the coming hours." I smiled - he was a very pretty boy, appearing somewhat younger than his 16 years (no doubt this was deliberate) and with a very fetching countenance unmarked by the signs of manhood. He stood up and we embraced. His hands sought my cock and when he felt how earnest it was for action he knelt and began to unfasten my trousers. My hands caressed his head while he was busy, but my fastenings were unfamiliar to him, and I besought him to allow me to release myself. He stood up, still smiling and I decided I would act as he had done, kneeling and loosening his garments. In this I was more successful - perhaps his clothing was deliberately chosen to be shed swiftly - and in a few moments his trousers were off him. The while he had doffed his shirt, revealing a chest wholly free from hairs but blessed with two fine proud pink nipples, pert and hard. I saw a trail of hairs leading down from his navel and as I unloosed his undercloth, casting it to the floor, I saw that the trail led to perfection. It is foolish, I know, to see every new naked boy as being somehow more perfect, more lusty, more full of promised delight than every boy already experienced, but men are foolish creatures and men full of the heat of lust for a boy are perhaps more foolish than most. I know that describing Luke therefore as 'perfection' will do little to help you picture the scene in that little room, and moreover I know that you will wish to be able to share my view that what stood before me was, in fact, perfect. To describe him then. Luke, as I have said, seemed younger than his 16 years. Whether the complete absence of hair (apart from the little trail I have mentioned - and this did not go far down his belly) was due to his not having developed, or to his shaving regularly I never discovered - there was no trace on my lips of stubble where shaving might have been carried out some few days earlier - so I ascribed his child-like appearance to Nature having yet to furnish him with the signs of manhood. Hair aside, however, Nature had not been slow to allow the child to become a man. Luke's cock - hard as it had been since before it was unveiled - stood insistently proud, directing its aim to the ceiling, and in my estimate fully seven inches long. His foreskin was loose and allowed the head of his cock to peep through: upon it was a large drop of that precious liquid being the first oozings from a cock hot for eventual delivery. I took his cock into my mouth, savouring what lay in the nest of his foreskin. Luke's body twitched. "Oh yes, Seth, that's so good," he murmured. I knew, and I had no doubt that he knew, that there would be more such nectar-gatherings ere his cock gave up its more precious fluids. His balls lay in their smooth silken punch, not drawn up as is often the case in lads but hanging low, like the balls of a man. When I had taken his drop of nectar I ventured to press his legs slightly apart so that I could gather his balls in my mouth. I tasted one at a time, and as my lips guided each one into my mouth, where my tongue paid homage to its tender promise, Luke moaned more and more, though his sounds did not form words I could understand. His meaning was clear enough though. I stood up. "Turn round and touch your toes," I whispered. A mighty grin appeared. "If you are going to rim me, Seth, you should know that I am clean in those parts." I expected nothing less in a well-run bawdy-house, but I said only that I would make my own judgement. Although in my many adventures at another boy's (or man's) arse I had never encountered any trace of shit I knew it was always a possibility; I knew also there were I so to encounter anything unexpected I would strive not to indicate that I had done so. Luke's arse was pink and wholesome, showing no trace of the many visitations it must have had since his employment there began, and very likely it was that some of those visitations, while accepted, were by their nature violent and possibly very large. I knelt and put my lips to his arse whereupon his moaning recommenced. My tongue followed, occasioning more moaning. "Fuck, Seth, you're good," he muttered, "I need it in me soon." I, who had a significant investment in the remainder of my two hours, was in no great hurry. A boy of 16 could surely spend thrice in that time (had he not spent earlier - a situation of which I knew nothing). "When did you last come, Luke?" "Not since ... aaah! ... very early this morning." The 'aaah!' was brought forth as I inserted two fingers into him, fingers which as soon as they had passed his lips seemed to be drawn in by some hot invisible force. "You can manage three then, I hope." I interpret his reply ('mmm!') as being an indication that at least he was willing to try. I, being several years his senior, felt that two spunkings would suffice - on this occasion at least. I had every intention of returning. I stood up and taking him by the hand led him to the bed. He laid himself down on his back, his legs apart. "Please, Luke," he said softly, "I need to feel you in me. I shall spunk on my belly as soon as you start to fuck me." I felt I was ready too, and I placed my hands under his arse. Immediately he lifted his legs and folded them behind my shoulders, locking his ankles. We were both grinning like apes. I touched my cock to his arse and the magical thing that dwelt therein drew my cock slowly in as it had drawn in my fingers. I swear I did not thrust! It took nigh on half a minute for all my inches to feel their way inside and soon my belly and Luke's were pressed hotly against one another. Luke gave a deep sigh. "Oh Seth, that's so hot - I'm on fire in there. Fuck me hard and make your spunk quench the heat." If I was to spend twice and he thrice I saw no reason to hold back, so I did as he urged. After less than a minute of fierce fucking Luke's body arched up off the bed and, as I paused (knowing what was afoot) I looked down and saw a stream of pearly spunk leap from his cock, landing between his nipples. Three further spurts followed, each a little less vigorous than the one before. The result was a thick line of glistening spunk perhaps 15 inches long and as wide as my little finger. "You come generously, Luke," I said. He smiled, exhausted for the moment by the prodigious effusion. Then, but a few moments later, he whispered, "thank you for waiting, I'm ready again." I resumed my fucking - my cock had remained pressed into his arse as far as I could - and I soon felt my own urges beginning. I fucked him even more rapidly than I had been doing; he sensed that I was rapidly approaching; his hands drew me down so that my chest and his had the still-warm spunk between us, pressed tight as he squeezed me, almost as though he wanted the whole of me up his arse; my balls gathered themselves; my spunk flew up my cock and out ... out ... into his velvet arse ... again ... again ... again ... six powerful shots before I could hold myself up any longer and my full weight was on the boy, on the spunky hot belly of the boy who - for a few seconds - was the most important person in the World to me. But as we all know, these foolish feelings last but a handful of seconds. As soon as the power of speech is restored different words from those uttered silently in the privacy of our minds enter our mouths. "God, Luke, that was good." "I felt every single sperm shooting into me, Seth - that was the best fuck for a long time. I am lucky you chose me." I rolled off. I knew, though Luke did not, that the aftermath of that fuck would be a pleasure. I bent over his belly and began to lick up the sticky spunky mess - a most unhappy word to describe something so tasty! - on his belly. "If you are eating mine, Seth, then I shall do the same courtesy to you," and he turned quickly so that he could take my cock, still plentifully wet with all manner of juices, into his mouth while I continued to lick his belly (and, truth compels me to add, venture my lips to his nipples). We spent nigh on 15 minutes in this way before I turned back and resumed the position in which I had first visited his arse. It was now liberally showing just how large my spending had been, and I was just in time to prevent a great quantity from escaping onto the bedding. "Please share that with me, Seth, for I love the taste of your spunk on my cock, and what has been in my arse as well will be even more desirable." I felt I had met a lad as fully of lusty - and some would venture to say, forbidden - ideas, and when I had lapped up as much of my spunk as I could I moved quickly up the bed to where he was waiting. Our mouths joined - we had not kissed before - and our tongues coupled as joyfully as we had done earlier, sharing spunk and our own intimate flavours. Five minutes of this was enough, and as he broke from my lips his eyes were sparkling. "No-one has ever done that before, Seth. It was heaven." Either Luke is a very skilled lad at his business, I thought, or perhaps what we have just shared was indeed a new experience for him. We were both in need of a period of rest, so we lay close side-by-side, holding hands like a swain and his lass on some hayrick. Did we speak of anything of any import? I cannot say. Did we remind each other of the power and pleasure of the preceding half-hour? Unceasingly. Luke described his feeling of delight as my fingers had entered him. "Do you like fingers in you, Seth?" I nodded. "Then let me get at you, for I am heating up again." I could see the truth of this pulsing with his heart-beat. "Kneel, Seth, I want your arse in the air." =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 49 as Luke introduces me to two new sources of pleasure. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================