Date: Sun, 9 Aug 2020 21:40:07 +0100 (BST) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line - Chapter 81 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 81 I took the van down to the village and parked outside Tigh-na-dealachadh. Ruaridh was expecting us, but he was very surprised to see Hamish. "I didn't know you knew this young scamp," he said to me, "he's pally with my son Stewart." Hamish blushed but said nothing. I said that Jack and Hamish were working for me making the ground fit for planting. "Jack works for me on land-service at home and I plan to employ Hamish as soon as he's eligible." Hamish found words to tell Ruaridh that he was 15 the week before, so he'd be staying on at school until he could start land-service. "I'm so relieved, Mr Gillespie." "I imagine your parents are as well, Hamish. Nobody likes the idea of their boys going away to fight." Social niceties being observed Ruaridh showed us to our table. I sat between them at a round table in the window. "I've never been in here before," whispered Hamish, "Dad says it's very expensive." It may have been by Lairg standards, but Ruaridh's prices were a lot less than a place of similar quality in Stoke. I didn't say anything. "Never mind that," said Jack practically, "we're entitled to be fed after a day's work like that. I liked what I had last time, Dab, so I'll have that again." He looked over to Hamish and I swear his lips - silently - mouthed "and I'll have you after." ***** They worked hard for 8 days, by the end of which there was a big pile of stones and rocks and a house surrounded by broken and raked soil. I'd been wondering about the stones, and had asked Jack if there was any useful purpose they might serve. He shook his head. "There's far more still in there than we've dug out, and you need some for drainage. These are useless unless you want to build a rockery or something." Some of the rocks had required all three of us to lift them, so it made sense to keep them in case a rockery seemed worth building in a year or two. It took the three of us another half day to get them all in a far corner against the rear wall of the estate. "There's precious little sun here," said Jack, "so it's not taking up useful space." By lunch time that day he pronounced the job complete. "It's ready for planting, Dab. We need Hester to agree what to order." I told him that I'd been in touch with her every other day to let her know how her apprentice was doing. "And the apprentice's apprentice, I hope." Hamish was used to Jack by then, so being called that made him smile - it made him feel almost part of the family. "What does she say?" "She says that it's your project. The crops you've suggested are all fine in her view. Her words were 'tell him from me that I'm very proud of him, and that he should order what he thinks best', so you're on your own." Jack looked fazed for a moment. "Are you sure?" I nodded. "Yes. She's given you the go-ahead, but I want you to sit down with me and go through it. Pretend I'm not who I am, but a customer who's consulting you. Make me a business presentation. How about tomorrow morning? Work it out this afternoon. Hamish and I will leave you in peace after lunch." Lunch was beer and sandwiches - Irn-Bru having been left behind several days earlier. I cleared the kitchen table and said "there's your office. We'll be back by 5," and I led Hamish out to the van. "Where are we going, Dab?" "Away. He has to work things out and he's much better left free from the temptation of your arse." Hamish grinned. "Does that mean you are going to be tempted by it?" "Hamish, I'm tempted by it all the time, and you know perfectly well that I don't try to resist very much." His grin intensified. "How about I show you where I like to fish then?" That seemed a good idea. I'd got to know Hamish pretty well in bed, and I'd learned a lot about him while I watched the two of them at work, but I'd not spent time with him - just him - away from work. His showing me his own places would be a nice way to spent another sweltering afternoon. A storm wasn't far away, but I thought we'd be all right for a while. We got into the van and Hamish directed me further up the glen. After about four miles he pointed to a track. "Down there - it's about a ten minute walk." I parked the van as far off the road as I could and the two of us set off. As Hamish wasn't bringing his fishing tackle - he must have left it at home - this was evidently not a fishing trip, merely tourism. We made our way down a track to the burn - a lively thing about six feet wide at that point. All the time we'd been walking he had been describing the various places he liked to fish. "I've never been here with anyone before," he said seriously. I said I was honoured. "You're not mocking me?" "Of course not, Hamish, you know me better than that. I am honoured that you like me and trust me well enough to show me your secret places." He burst into unexpected laughter: he'd been very serious five seconds earlier. "I don't have any secret places you've not been in several times, Dab, and every one of them was magic." We were in a little hazel wood; the burn was only a few feet away. He stopped and turned. "Kiss me, Dab." ***** That was the first time I had sex with anyone in the open air. We lay together afterwards listening to the burn and watching the clouds gather. Suddenly there was thunder a few miles away and big raindrops began to fall. Hamish moved to lie on top of me. "Can't have his lordship getting wet," he murmured. I wasn't in any hurry - we were going to be soaked before we got back to the van anyway. "Have you ever fucked anyone in a thunderstorm?" he said. I shook my head. "Well now's your chance if you can get it up again," and he moved down to bring about this mutually-desired outcome. This is crazy, I thought. Fucking a 15-year-old by a burn where anyone could happen upon is was one thing, but doing it again in the pouring rain ... seemed like a very good idea indeed. After all, discovery was much less likely. "OK, but I'm staying on my back. If anyone's going to get struck by lightning it's going to be you, Hamish. Climb on." I can thoroughly recommend fucking 15-year-olds anyway, but doing so in a thunderstorm has an added dimension of excitement. The wild magic of fucking in a storm remained several minutes after we'd both come. I stayed hard in Hamish's arse - a thing I'd not done before - and he stayed squatting over me, his cum slowly being washed off my chest by the rain. Quite suddenly the magic ended and reality reasserted itself. "You realise we've no way of drying ourselves," I said. "So what? No-one's going to see and I don't suppose the van will come to any harm." He eased himself off me, allowing my cum to trickle out onto me. "You came a huge load, Dab," he said softly as the evidence appeared. Wet as we both were the delay of a couple of minutes while he made sure that my spunk wasn't wasted was a delay we both enjoyed. "You love it, don't you - spunk, I mean?" He nodded, his mouth full. After he'd swallowed we kissed, his tongue and lips still redolent of spunk. "Thank you," he whispered. "What for? Fucking you in the pouring rain?" "No, Dab. For being Dab and bringing Billy and Jack. For showing me how to unlock the door and let me be me. For ... I don't know, giving me a chance to ..." but the sentence was never finished as he buried his head in my shoulder. I let him lie there while warm rain poured over us. "Come on, Hamish, we have to get home." I drove home wet and naked - a thing I had never done before and have never done since, even without a wet naked 15-year-old, fresh-fucked beside me. It was still pissing when we got home, and we hadn't seen a single soul since we set out. We went into the kitchen where Jack was still working at the table. He looked up. "What the hell have you two been up to?" A wet naked Hamish went up to him. "Fucking by the burn. I've been fucked in a thunderstorm, Jack, you should try it." Jack grinned. "I might at that. Is it still raining?" "Aye." Hamish looked keen to return for another session but I pointed him to the showers. "Another day. Go and get the dirt off you." "Only if you help." Since it wasn't clear to whom he had issued the invitation he was joined by two helpers, one wet, the other keen to hear what we'd been doing. ***** The following day I drove the two of them to Inverness where Jack made his purchases at an agricultural showroom. He'd talked me through what he needed the evening before, and he intended to buy apple trees for and cabbages for planting now. Other crops would be planted in the early spring. He and Hamish planted two dozen apple trees the next day when they were delivered. They wouldn't produce a crop for at least a year, Jack said, probably two. The potatoes occupied them for another two days of backbreaking work. I was impressed with how hard Hamish toiled. I knew Jack was fit and capable of a long day, but Hamish had had little experience of the sort of work he was doing. By the end of that day Jack said that we were done. "That's it, Dab. We must come back in March to lift the cabbages and plant the rest of the stuff. I want to have soft fruit as well, but that needs work." I asked what he meant - hadn't he and Hamish been working. "I need cages and trellises, and that's where Hamish earns his keep. During the next few months he's going to come here at weekends and build what we need. I've talked to him about it and he's keen. He may need a hand, but he says his Dad will help him with heavy stuff, but there won't be much of that." "Are you sure, Hamish?" "Yes, Dab. Jack will give me plans of what he needs and where the things have to go. Don't worry." "OK, I trust you. Make sure you account for everything and I'll make sure you get paid." In the end it all worked out seamlessly. Dunstable received an invoice every so often and Hamish got his wages, and suppliers got paid. I made sure Jack got the credit from Hester. Once he went to college the following autumn Hamish would be responsible for keeping things tidy, but neither Jack nor I had worked out whether he would need help. The original idea had been to have him work his land-service under an experienced person, but he had put in so much work, and had soaked up so much of what Jack had taught him, that it seemed - to me, at least - that he could probably manage without supervision. Jack wasn't sure and after all, Jack was the boss. We agreed to talk to Hester when we got home. I'd been to see the Gunns while the other two were finishing planting the potatoes. I told them how hard Hamish had been working and how pleased I was that he was enjoying it. I told them that Jack and I were leaving two days later, and that I wanted to invite the two of them to have dinner with us the next day. "Jack'll want to show you the result of his labours, and if he's going to do land-service here then we ought to get to know each other better. Besides, we're practically neighbours." Rose was delighted at this, but her husband seemed less so. It was agreed that they would come up at 7 the next day and that Hamish would go home with them afterwards. "We've no smart clothes," I said, "so no dressing up." Hamish had reacted strangely when I told him that his parents would be coming to see things the following day, and I was curious to know why. I had a quiet word with Jack, asking him to see if he could find out. I'd been down to see Ruaridh to see whether he could offer assistance with the little matter of feeding five people - were there perhaps a couple of cold dishes he would be willing to prepare that I could collect in the van. He found the idea greatly amusing and invited me into his office to discuss it. "A beer will help things along, I'm sure." he said, "and besides it's too early in the day for a dram." He pulled out some menus and we spent a happy five minutes going through what could stand the journey up the track without falling apart. We settled on vichyssoise ("I'll give you it in a thermos"), followed by smoked trout ("I'll wrap them individually, then they'll stay in one piece - salmon might not - and besides, trout's often tastier"). "You'll manage your own salad and potatoes, I fancy. Mrs Gunn has a good range of stuff at the shop." I thanked him and paid - the last thing I needed was to have to come in to pay on the day we were going home - and arranged to collect the stuff at 6 the next day. "If you are ever entertaining and would like Flora to come to Inverthrum then if you give me a few days' notice it can be arranged." Flora turned out to be Mrs Gillespie who could, were service required, be accompanied by Morag. ***** It was our last day. There was nothing to do in the grounds: all that remained as far as work was concerned was dealing with dinner. I pointed out that there might well be an inspection when the Gunns came - no-one from the village had been in the house apart from tradesmen for decades, and there was bound to be curiosity. "So I want your stuff in the other bedroom, Hamish, and the bed looking as thought it's been made by a boy of 15 who's not all that good at making beds. You're going back with them tonight, so have your clothes in your case on the bed ready to go. Don't worry, they won't be here until 7 so there's still all afternoon." He brightened up at that. "I'm going into the village for things for tonight - I'll be back in half an hour. Why not sort everything while I'm away, then we can have all afternoon." Both of them brightened even more. Mrs Gunn was amused by my purchases. "I imagine I'll be seeing these again later," she said with a smile. There was no-one else in the shop, so we chatted about Hamish for a few minutes. I said I was really pleased with how he had got stuck into some pretty hard work, and hadn't complained about any of it. "I think he found working with Jack really rewarding - having a boy just a few months older teaching him stuff was unexpected, and the two of them get on really well." "And you'll keep him on for land-service?" "Oh yes, as soon as he's eligible. I'll get the paperwork done in the next month or two, and if you like I'll get my steward to write you formally so that the school knows there is definitely work for him when he's 16. When is that exactly?" I knew, but it made sense if Mrs Gunn didn't know that. "Next July, 20 July." I picked up my purchases. "We'll see you both at seven." It was 11 when I got back. Hamish insisted that I inspected things in his not-bedroom. I pronounced myself satisfied. "You've earned a kiss," I said softly. It was delivered in a gentle lingering way. "You've come a long way in a month," I said. "Aye, and all thanks to you a Billy and Jack. Will Billy be up here again? I'd like to show him how much I've learned." I laughed. "I'll be sure to tell him, Hamish. I don't think any of us will be back until spring, but you never know." Downstairs I made us all coffee. "Today is not a day for alcohol, at least not until this evening." I left a good two beats before adding, "it will be a new experience for you both to fuck without having a beer first." I had not heard Hamish cry "whoopee" before, and it was a salutary reminder that for all his labouring skills and all his newly-discovered sexual side, he was still only just 15 and a child in many ways. "After lunch," I said, "and the good news is that lunch will be ready in 15 minutes." ***** As all three of us knew that it was the last time we would meet for several months the three hours we spent upstairs were special. There had been no beer at lunch but there had been plenty of juice and, for the natives, Irn-Bru. When we got into the back room and were all naked Hamish announced that he had been thinking about birthdays. "You gave me a nice present, Dab, but I think I missed out on the three wishes." "Three wishes?" "Oh yes, didn't you know? In the Highlands it's traditional to get a wish every time your age is divisible by five. That means three wishes when you're 15." "How long has that been a tradition?" inquired Jack, keen - visibly so - to get on with things. "Oh, about two weeks." "Since you are clearly an honest child, Hamish," I said seriously, "it would be wrong not to grant your desires. What, pray might they be?" He had thought about it, because his reply was instantaneous. "I want to do pissing things with Jack. That's OK, isn't it, Jack?" Jack nodded. "Two: I want Jack to fuck me. Three: I want to do the 69 thing with Dab." "I think we can stretch to that," I said, "are they in that order?" "Aye." "And are you bursting to piss?" asked Jack. Hamish shook his head. "Well, the pissing stuff can't be first. Why don't you and Dab 69 while your bladders catch up?" said Jack. "Onto the bed with you then," I said, taking a naked Hamish - an erect naked Hamish, a grinning erect naked Hamish - by the hand. "I'm heavier than you, so you go on top," I murmured, "let's give Jack something to remember." A whispered "aye". I settled on my back and Hamish knelt over me, wisely delaying starting the 69 process until I had had several minutes rimming him. "Oh God, I'm going to miss this," he sighed as my tongue ran up and down his perineum, running round his already-engorged arse lips. "I'm greased," he whispered, "I've been keeping myself greased all the time I've been here." I knew that, as did Jack, but Hamish's need to remind me was rather sweet. "Fingers then?" I murmured. "Mmm. Two maybe." Two it was, but only after one, and then two, had ventured deep inside him and found a warm welcome. I wondered whether, his hands still being small, Hamish might be given an unexpected treat later on, and I decided it would be fun after we'd 69ed. Three fingers would have been too many for him, so my two enjoyed making his prostate dance. A few weeks earlier he'd have come with treatment like that, but hours of practice since had led him to delay the inevitable, prolonging the pleasure. The timing was up to him, and as he sensed orgasm heaving over the horizon he leant forward and got his mouth on my cock, inevitable pulling his arse off my fingers. A small adjustment saw his cock in my mouth, and we both set our lips and tongues to play their now familiar music. Neither of us was in any hurry: we both knew this would be a long session and one which would store up memories to see us through the winter. As I intended to get him to fist me I was content to let him come - content! what an inadequate word! - while my balls remained full: they would surely deliver when Hamish had his hand up me. Hamish began to moan and my tongue lashed his cock-head, round and round while I sucked. "Aaaah!" he cried, his mouth no longer on my cock, as his balls pumped spunk into my mouth, into my sucking tongue-hungry mouth, across my palate, tasting tasting the essence of this gorgeous boy ... swallowing - an act which constricted my mouth and drew another spurt of magic from him. "Oh fuck, Dab," he sighed, "that's so good." "Off you get," I whispered. "But you haven't come." "No, but I have an idea. This is a new thing. Bring the lube, Jack." I got on my hands and knees, arse invitingly in the air. "You're going to get him to fist you, aren't you?" said Jack. I nodded. "Well why not in the sling? It'll be easier for him if it's his first time. I take it it is his first time?" I nodded and got up to move to the sling. "What's fisting?" Jack whispered in Hamish's ear. "My whole hand? Up him?" Jack nodded adding, "and most of your forearm too. He loves it, I promise. Come and I'll help you. You'll be a wow at queer parties with this trick up your sleeve." Hamish snorted, "aye, that'll be right. Where would I find a queer party this side of Glasgow?" You'd be surprised, I thought, but I didn't say anything. I climbed into the sling and wriggled down so that my arse was nice and get-at-able. Like Hamish I kept myself well lubricated at all times. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 82 as Hamish learns something he will never forget, and the afternoon progresses. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================