Date: Mon, 27 Jul 2020 11:40:53 +0100 (BST) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 78 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. 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. It has been his habit in all his stories published here to be two or three chapters ahead of publication. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post all outstanding chapters together with 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. A bit like Edwin Dro 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 78 We showered chastely after we'd finished giving Hamish the thrill of his life in the sling. "Clothes on," I said, "we've business to talk about." Downstairs the three of us sat round the big kitchen table. No beer was in sight. I told Hamish that it was likely - "not certain, but very likely" - that in two weeks' time I would be able to decide to turn what was effectively waste ground round Inverthrum over to fruit and vegetable growing. "And if I do there will be work for two people. If you are willing to work hard outdoors doing what's needed, Hamish, I'm willing to have you on land-service under someone who knows what's what. Are you interested?" The tears in his eyes and the mute nod told me all I needed to know. I put my hand on his. "Good. There's a whole lot of paperwork to be done, but I won't start that until Jack's boss has seen his report. It might not happen, Hamish, you do realise that?" He nodded. "I'm so grateful, Dab ..." but that was as far as he got. It was Jack who, unexpectedly, came to his rescue. "Tears are OK, Hamish. Tears among friends mean you know you're in a safe place. Dab's always telling me that tears are a sign of strength." "Tell your parents I've offered you a job provided Jack comes up trumps. Tell them you want to work here. Just don't tell them all the reasons." Hamish smiled happily, tears gone. "Aye." "I'll come into the shop tomorrow to have a word with your mother, then we're off back south." His face dropped. "The sooner we get back, the sooner I can give Hester my report, and the sooner Dab can get the paperwork done, and that means the sooner you have an excuse to spend a lot longer up here being taught things. Some of them to do with the garden." Hamish cheered up. "Aye." "Off you go then," I said, "oh, by the way, here's your present. Open it in your bedroom and don't let on you've got it." I didn't get up. I wanted Jack to go to the door with him, conscious that there were probably questions he had for Jack - his potential new boss as well as his potential continuing fuck-buddy. When Jack came back five minutes later there had indeed been questions. "He asked if you were always kind like that." "And what did you say?" "I said that you had saved Dodo's and my life, and that I loved you almost as much as Billy does." "And I love you almost as much as I love Billy, Jack. Now let's finish off what we started in the sling." "He asked what the present was, but I didn't know. What was it?" "Lube." ***** Hester was impressed with Jack's report. "I'd like to attach a copy of it to his application with an explanation," she said, "and if I can say that his - my - employer decided to accept the report and act on it I'm sure it will add weight to the whole thing." "And should I accept it?" "Oh certainly. In principle you can accept it today. As far as the detail is concerned - which species and so on - that can wait until Jack's done his soil analysis. It'll be good practice for him, but I can tell you the answer now. The soil up there is all acidic, so that limits what will grow. In a flower bed you could put down lime if you really wanted certain flowers, but that's a huge waste of time and money in a garden the size of Inverthrum." I asked the big question - the two big questions which had been bothering me. "Could Jack and a boy clear the ground and do the preparation for planting, and maybe the planting as well? And can you spare Jack to do it?" She laughed. "You're the boss. If you want him in Sutherland doing heavy work - and it will be heavy - then that's where he goes. I can manage without him for a while. I'll have to manage without him full time in a year when he goes to college, so replacing him is something we'll have to face soon anyway. I imagine you'll be able to hire the machinery you'll need up there." "I'm glad. That makes life a lot easier. I agree about sending the report. Will you make a copy and get Mr Dunstable to add it to the forms?" I told Jack over dinner, and between us we filled Billy in on what had happened. "Hamish will be a happy laddie, Dab. Getting fucked in the sling and being told he won't go into the army all in the same day. I hope his parents don't put two and two together." "The good news is that if he seems very excited it can be put down to land-service rather than fucking," said Jack matter-of-factly. Jack very sweetly announced, as bedtime approached, that he would leave `you two oldies' to have a night of unbridled lust all to ourselves "while I lie in my lonely bed and dream of pissfucking your newest employee, Dab." ***** There was nothing I could do for a few days while Jack did his chemistry and then went through his fruit tree book to see what the soil and the other factors dictated. I had left Bertie and James about to board Queen Mary in New York on their way home from several years in Canada. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Queen Mary was huge - much bigger than Empress of Canada. We had a suite high up on Deck 9 with a sitting-room and a bedroom with two big beds as well as a bathroom. James looked pleased. "We have six days, Bertie, and I imagine we will have great fun. Now why don't you go and explore and come back in a couple of hours and tell me all the exciting places you've found. Off you go - I have work to do." I was used to being sent off like that - it had happened all the time in Ottawa - so I was happy to be allowed to have an adventure on my own. I walked up to the highest deck and looked out on Manhattan. The skyscrapers towered over me. Yesterday we had been at the top of the highest building in the World, and there it was, unbelievably high, its point surely far too small for us to have been there. (When I told James about this later he told me that we hadn't been as far up as the point, but it still seemed a long way up.) There was a lot of activity down on the pier as people were still boarding and porters were loading luggage. I decided to go down to see what happened on the lower decks. I called an elevator and rode down. There was an elevator boy the same age as me who asked where I wanted to go. He had a cute smile so I smiled back. "All the way," I said teasingly. He smiled a little bit more, but neither of us said anything. As we went down other people got on, so the chance to get to know him was lost. I was cross with myself, but I remembered that we were on Queen Mary for 6 days and that the cute elevator boy would still be in his elevator all that time. I decided to use the elevator a lot. I mentioned the elevator boy to James at Dinner and he was interested, and made me describe him. "I think I've seen him too, " he said, "I wonder if he is available at all." "That would be fun," I said, but I didn't think about it any more. I saw the boy again the next day, but he didn't smile. Later in the afternoon he did. I couldn't understand why he seemed friendly one minute and ignored me the next. Later that second afternoon James told me that our Steward had hinted that company could be provided for those passengers with special interests, as he - Philip, the Steward - had put it. James had pressed Philip and it had been made clear that Philip was available himself. Terms had been discussed and we could expect company for an hour at 10 that evening. "Me too?" I said. "If you like, Bertie. Let's see, shall we." Philip was taken aback to see a 14-year-old as well as a man when he appeared at 10. He knew I was travelling with James, of course, but I don't think it had occurred to him that I would be joining them. An hour later, as he was getting ready to go, he asked if I would like to get it on with - his words - boys my own age. "There are some available should you wish it." James asked if by any chance they were elevator boys. "Yes, twins." That would explain why sometimes I got a smile and sometimes a blank look. "Yes, please, I loved what we did, Philip, but twins my age - yes!" Philip asked if James wanted him to fix it. "No, now that I know they are available I'm sure we can approach them, thank you." Money had changed hands before the fun started, and Philip took his leave. Knowing what we now knew our trips in the elevators were more purposeful and by lunchtime the next day both twins had been approached, and both had made the same response. We would be contacted, James was told. After lunch the telephone rang - it was a man wishing to come and discuss matters. James said he should come right away, and five minutes later he was with us. I had never been present when negotiations of this kind were taking place, so I kept my mouth shut, but my ears were wide open. James agreed that both boys would come for three hours the following day. "Would it be agreeable if we were to offer them luncheon?" he said. It would, and the man thought that both boys would be delighted. "We feed the staff well on Queen Mary," he said, "but not as well as passengers on this Deck are fed." James added that our Steward would be joining us, and the man didn't blink. Maybe this was something he knew about. All he said was that any arrangement we might make with our Steward was not his concern. He then asked for our Passports. James wasn't keen on this, but when the man explained why - something about a boy being beaten - and said that it was a requirement, James got up to the safe and produced them. "They will be returned an hour after Patrick and Tim return safely," he said. And money changed hands again. ***** I don't know how I slept that night. The thought of sex with two twins kept me awake for hours and it was only with a superhuman effort that all the spunk churning in my balls at the thought of what three 14-year-olds might do together remained safely churning where it was for another 14 hours. At last it was time. There was a knock at the door. I opened it. There they were. Gorgeous. Doubtless as full of spunk and wickedness as I was. "I'm Patrick," said one of them, "and I'm Tim." James explained what would happen - an hour's naked action, then luncheon, then more naked action. Then he sent Patrick and Tim to strip off in the bedroom. I went in a minute or two later to see what I was in for, and I like what I saw - two hard uncut cocks as ready for action as mine was. When James came in to inspect the goods I went out to strip. When I came back I found Tim sucking James' cock. Quick work, I thought, as Patrick did the same for me. I didn't let him linger there too long though, and I told him I wanted to fuck him. he got down on all fours and I went in - hard, all in one go. I don't know why I did it that way - it wasn't as though I was a stranger to fucking - maybe it was because this was the first commercial fuck I'd had (not that that is an excuse of which I am proud, all these years later, but I was 14 and a child of my class). Patrick was thoroughly greased and I slipped all the way in without any difficulty. I fucked him hard and fast - if they were to be here for three hours I knew there would be multiple orgasms, so getting the first one out of the way merely prepared the ground for the next, wherever and with whomever it might be. James was still being sucked off by Tim, but as soon as I'd come he - James - told Tim to clean my cock. Patrick was keen to be fucked straight after by James, and he pretended to be alarmed at the size of the cock about to enter him. I knew perfectly well that this was so much piffle as he was a professional, and presumably up for whatever presented itself, but I worked out that it was all part of the game. Meanwhile Tim was doing a fine job on me, spunk and his brother's arse juice all being cheerfully harvested. James lasted a lot longer up Patrick's arse than I had done, but when he finally came I told Tim to clean him up, as he had cleaned me. I decided that Patrick's arse was worth a more prolonged visit, so I rimmed him and was rewarded as spunk - mine and James's - was gently pushed out. Patrick turned over and squatted over me, allowing gravity to do its work. James was most impressed - as was I, but I was far too busy with what was leaking from Patrick's arse to say anything. I planted my lips on his and my tongue went up into the spunky darkness. I heard James tell Patrick to push, and the result was incredible. I'd had spunk in my mouth plenty of times, but the volume and the manner in which it was being delivered made all earlier mouthfuls of spunk seem pretty tame. I was so high with lust that I even finished by kissing his arse. James told the twins that Philip would bring in luncheon soon, and that all five of us would play afterwards. He made us all shower first, and as soon as I got Patrick in the bathroom I went for him, kissing him hard. He was a bit surprised, I think, but he dragged us both into the shower and turned the tap on. Neither Patrick nor Tim had come yet, and I'd not been allowed to come for nearly a week - since we were in Detroit - so Patrick understood why I'd come so much when I fucked him. We both wanted to come there and then, but orders were orders. Lunch was lobsters and strawberries, and what was strange was that we were all stark naked. Philip joined us for the dessert and after we'd all finished James said that he would fuck Tim, but the rest of us could do what we liked. I was as hard as hell, so I didn't hang about. I told Philip that I needed him to fuck me, and he made me do it by lowering myself onto his cock while he was lying on his back. It wasn't all that long but it was very thick, which made for a nice change. I beckoned to Patrick to get in front of me so I could suck his cock. Phil's cock up my arse made me come, and I shot all over Patrick's chest. As it ran down Phil got some in his hands and rubbed it into Patrick's balls - and that was when I felt a huge spunking up my arse. I decided I must get James to have Philip come again. Philip's cock was still inside me - I think it stayed in because of its thickness - and Patrick made him rim him. Suddenly Patrick's cock erupted and several streams of his hot spunk hit me on my chest and ran down my belly towards my cock. Tim came over to join us - three boys and Philip - and Patrick asked me to suck him off again. I told him that James loved seeing spunk as it flew out. "Do it on my face," I whispered to Patrick, "I love that." A few minutes later Patrick groaned that he was near, so I got on my back just in time for him to squirt on my face at almost the same time as Tim, on the other side of me, wanked a big load on me as well. And to cap it all Patrick licked the whole lot off. I thought nothing could follow that, but I underestimated the twins' professional skills. Tim asked me to give him a blow job, even though he'd only just shot on me, and Patrick said we should 69. I muttered about doing it on each other's face so that James got his money's-worth and Tim grunted, which I took to be agreement. Three minutes later James got his wish and I got another faceful. When we showered I grabbed Philip and whispered that a further visit would be nice. "You'll have to ask your father, Bertie," he said softly, "but I'm as keen as you are. You're a great fuck." Patrick and Tim left, and to my chagrin we didn't see them again, much as I would have wanted to. That's not quite true - we saw Patrick on the last day in the elevator and I made a great performance of saying how much fun I'd had on the crossing. Lots of the other passengers forked out tips after James gave me some bills to give Patrick. Those three hours made a much bigger impression on me than I realised at the time: all that happened that day was sexual delight and much coming, mine and others' in and on me - just what a randy boy my age wanted. It's only as the years have passed that the day - the twins in particular - have returned so often to my memory. But all that's another story. Philip did call again and I was on the receiving end of another memorable fuck. By the time we reached Southampton my arsehole was in sore need of a rest. ***** Picking up life again in Uttoxeter was strange. It was June 1936; I was 13½; I had been in Canada for 5½ years, and had been in what they called Grade School. James had put me down for public school when I was born, I discovered. He had hated his school, being severely bullied there, and chose another for me. I was apprehensive, as I imagine most boys are, because I had no idea of the English schooling I had missed while being in Ottawa. "Never mind, Bertie," James told me, "the school knows you have been abroad and they will make sure that you are taught what you may have missed out on. Just think how well you will shine when it comes to Canadian history." It wasn't much consolation, but I was bright, and I knew I could probably pick things up quickly. "I imagine you'll have a certain amount of fun after lights-out," he added, "and in that arena you will be far more knowledgeable than the rest of them." This was true, but I kept to myself the feeling that parading my vast experience might not be the wisest course. Not in the first week anyway. ***** My schooldays are not of any particular interest in this tale. I discovered four things very quickly. I was certainly a great deal more experienced in sexual matters than any of the other new boys; this experience was greatly valued by many - not all, but a sufficient number to keep me occupied - of my equals; older boys, when word got around about this precocious newcomer, were keen to make his acquaintance. Fourth, and most importantly. a small number of them liked it - and me - very much, and sought my company. On one in particular it is perhaps worth dwelling. My infatuation with Francis in Canada had been all-consuming while it lasted, but had faded quickly. The thunderbolt that hit me in my second term at school was much more intense, not least because my feelings were reciprocated and we had almost 18 months in which to enjoy our love. Yes, I fell in love, thoroughly and exhaustingly. And he was in love with me. It took less than a week after our first - purely physical - encounter for us each gradually to come to the conclusion that there was no-one else, and never would be, that mattered. I was 14, he - David - was 17. He was a new Prefect and chose me as his fag. That meant I was his servant for the rest of my first year. In practice it meant a great deal more. As is so often the case - I speak from the experience of literature, rather than my own, you understand - it's impossible to put one's finger on exactly what it was that moved sexual passion (hardly a new thing for me) to full-blown love. Full-blown for a pair of teenaged boys, that is. It had to be kept secret, especially from those among whom we lived our daily lives. Queerdom across a 3-year age gap was taboo in that environment, and although inevitably boys were discovered gratifying each other it was universally frowned upon, so David and I were drawn even more tightly together because we shared a terrible secret. Naturally I found being drawn tightly together with David utterly wonderful. The domestic arrangements were conducive to my spending time in his study, as that was where the fagging duties were carried out - shoe polishing, sweeping, general housekeeping and so on. David was quick to work out that if he performed these tasks for himself that would allow us more time for activities we both preferred. As I say, this process took less than a week. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 79 as I learn more about Bertie and David (but not as much as I would have liked), and things move on in 2038. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================