Date: Sun, 13 Sep 2020 19:01:14 +0100 (BST) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line - Chapter 89 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 89 A whispered conversation took place behind me. "You called him 'Bertie'." "Yes, that's his name. What do you call him?" "Sir." Laughter from my valet. "Why does he call you 'sir', Bertie?" "It's what he first called me, Matt, when he was just the boy who was being trained to clean my rooms. When he became the boy who did more for me I never got round to introducing myself properly." Laughter now from both occupants of the back seat. "You mean introducing yourself improperly," said Matt. I was glad that spending time (spending spending time, come to that) with me was expanding Matt's linguistic skills as well as his arsehole. "From now on, Thomas, you must call me Bertie, but only when there's no-one else to hear." "Yes, sir, Bertie, oh fuck!" "You'll get used to it," I said, "and as far as the other is concerned you'll not have to wait long once we get there." We stopped off in Thetford to buy necessities. Thomas's recruitment had been based on the fiction that there would be other staff - in fact there would just be the three of us, and no cook, so I bought things I could cook for us. The two boys and I manhandled food and drink into the car. "Are we going to eat all that?" said Thomas. Rationing was still in force back then, but I'd managed to buy a few things in tins which weren't rationed, many of which turned out to be new to both my guests. The lodge was a couple of miles beyond Watton, and we were there by lunchtime. We unloaded the car and had a quick look round the lodge - it had the three things we needed: a kitchen, a bathroom and a bedroom with a gratifyingly large double bed. Other bedrooms were available, but would not be needed. "Right," I said, "lunch. Who fancies the pub?" Five minutes later the three of us were in the King's Arms; two minutes after that Matt and I had a pint in front of us and Thomas a lemonade; by dint of my having asked for an empty glass one minute later each boy had a pint of shandy in front of him. I had chosen well: the King's Arms landlord avoided the rationing restrictions by offering a rabbit stew. The portions were generous and in the car on the way back we agreed that we could face the idea of rabbit stew for lunch the next day as well. Once we got back I led them into the sitting room. "Matt, what do you want to do in the next two days?" "You mean sex things?" I nodded, "that's what we're here for." "All the things we do at home, Bertie, and I want to do stuff with Thomas. I felt his cock in the car and it seemed to want to get to know me better." He turned to Thomas. "Can I fuck you? Do you want to fuck me? You can if you want." Thomas nodded. "Say it, Thomas, it's OK to say it out loud. We're all friends here," said Matt. I was pleased he was taking an active part in getting things moving. Thomas swallowed. "I love what ... Bertie and I do, Matt, and I'd like to do everything with you as well." That was pretty clear. "In that case let's start," I said. The lodge stood in a few acres of ground and was completely isolated. There was no likelihood of anyone seeing us. It was another baking day, so I thought it would be fun if we were all naked while we were there (apart from the next day's rabbit stew). "How about we all strip off - that wat we can all see what's what." Matt immediately began to take his shirt off; Thomas hesitated, but when he saw me stripping he followed suit. In less time than it takes to write the words both boys were naked before me: three naked males all with hard cocks, all with lustful ideas about how and where they might be deployed, all keen to put some at least of those ideas into practice. "Upstairs," I said. I pulled back the bedclothes - they would be in the way, and it was far too hot to need them, even at night - and the three of us sat on the bed. "Why don't you two 69 each other while I watch," I said, "that way you get a nice come soon. You both look ready for one." I had 69'd with both of them on innumerable occasions, but the height difference, particularly with Thomas, made it a less than ideal position. The two boys were only a couple of inches different in height, so I reckoned they would each have a better fit than I had managed with either of them. They set to with a will, Matt underneath ("you're lighter than I am, Thomas"). Each boy, well practised in the way an experienced catamite is, began not by taking the other's cock into his mouth, but lower down, savouring the musky aroma of the other's arse, tonguing as I had so often tongued along the path to pleasure's gateway. As we were miles from anywhere (unlike Chapel Court) Thomas allowed himself to make the noises a boy having his arse licked wants to make - soft insistent moans, inarticulate sighs, occasional clear words like 'yes' and 'now', all delightful for me to hear. I was used to Matt's noises (though even they were louder than those he made at home) and to hear two boys as they pleasured each other without any need to restrain themselves was highly erotic. Being boys, and being aware that their balls would replenish fast enough for a second orgasm fairly soon after the first, they didn't hold back when Matt made the move (instantly followed) to Thomas's cock. "Oh God," murmured Thomas as Matt's tongue lapped his cockhead. From where I was sitting Thomas's arse was right in front of me, wet with Thomas's saliva. Why resist? I lubed a finger or two and ran them round his engorged arse lips. "Mmm, yes Bertie, put them in." I obeyed and as they disappeared Thomas reapplied his mouth to Matt's cock. "Mmmff" implied that Thomas was happy with the stimuli he was getting from both of us. I knew that it wouldn't be long before Round 1 would reach its climax, so I allowed my fingers to bring that about more swiftly - but, I hoped, more excitingly - than had I not had two fingers raking over his prostate. "Mmm, mmm aaah!" and Thomas's hips showed that his evolutionary instinct to plant his seed as far up into the dark as he could reach had taken over. Matt loves the sensation of a cock swilling as it pulses spunk into his mouth, and I shared in the moment of release, knowing that Matt was feeling a new cock doing things he loved. Matt hadn't come yet, and Thomas was sufficiently out of it not to keep his side of the bargain. Matt sensed this and - having swallowed the generous mouthful - pushed Thomas off. "On your back," he muttered, "it's my turn." Matt knelt over Thomas, wanking hard. Thomas looked up, still glowing with his orgasm, thrilled by what he saw, his eyes lit up by what he guessed - hoped - was about to happen. Matt groaned, his hand pulled his foreskin back, his piss-slip opened and (I could see it in my minds eye in slow motion) a stream of hot joy flew out onto Thomas's face ... another ... another (by which time Thomas's mouth was round its target and Matt was collapsed onto the younger boy, his cock safely in his mouth while it pulsed again. "Oh fuck," he sighed, "Bertie, he's a real find." The real find heard this and chuckled, Matt's cock still in his mouth. Matt levered himself up to see a grinning face with two lines of spunk cross-crossing it. They did not remain there long. When he was spunk-free Thomas smiled up at his cleaner. "No-one's ever come on my face before. If you'd asked I'd have said 'no', but I'm glad you didn't ask - it was really special. Does he come on your face, Bertie?" I confessed that Matt's coming on my face had not thitherto been among his accomplishments. Matt lay on his back beside Thomas. The two boys held hands, smiling as boys do when their bodies are still tingling. "That was special," said Matt, "what's next, Bertie?" and a wicked grin appeared. "I intend to fuck one of you, and I intend to fuck the other one later when I've got my strength back. Who wants to be first?" The stereophonic effect of two boys saying 'me' at the same time made it impossible to judge which of them had been a microsecond before the other. "I'll have to decide then," I said. "How?" from Thomas who had by this time left behind any idea that 'Sir' was anything other than an equal partner in unnatural sin. "I shall make a careful examination of you both, and make my decision when I have done so. "Good," muttered Matt, knowing that my idea of a careful examination was likely to be worth undergoing. "Oldest first," I said cheerfully, "Thomas, you must watch and pay close attention. Matt, kneel doggy-fashion." Matt's arse is of course a familiar sight (and a familiar scent), but as with a favourite book or a favourite symphony a fresh study often reveals new subtleties, and even when none are discovered the process remains rewarding. My eyes, my nose, my fingers, my lips all had a part to play - only my sense of hearing was unstimulated. Thomas, a mere 12 inches away from the work-surface, paid close attention; he had been on the receiving end often enough (and would be again soon, as he knew) but seeing what I was up to at close quarters would equip him with the skills needed to do for someone else - Percy, perhaps - those things which his cock, stirring already, anticipated being done to him. "I love it when you so that to me," he whispered. I broke off from Matt's arse to give Thomas a brief kiss. "I love doing it, so we're both happy." "Can I do it to him?" It wasn't what I'd planned, but it would have been churlish to refuse. I moved out of the way. "Matt, you are about to have a new sensation - a mere 14-year-old getting to know you back here." Matt wriggled appreciatively. "Get down like he is," I told Thomas, who had his face in Matt's arse almost before the words were out of my mouth. What he had not expected was that I had my face in his arse a couple of seconds later. Different arse, my brain recorded, different scent ... different taste, but just as delightful. "Do to him what I do to you," I whispered. We kept this up for a good 15 minutes before I got up. "I've made my decision," I said. "What decision?" said Thomas, his activities giving at one end and receiving at the other having driven from his mind the reason I'd been busy at Matt's arse in the first place. "The decision about which of these two gorgeous arses I'm going to fuck first." Matt rolled onto his back awaiting the outcome. "Today, alphabetical order; tomorrow in order of increasing age. Here's how it works with three. The one left out gets to join in how he likes - do whatever he wants to whomever he wants." "That sounds fun," said Thomas, to whom the task of being third would fall first, "anything?" "Why not?" I said at much the same time as Matt had said "yeah, go for it, Thomas". I thought it likely that by tomorrow 'anything' might include activity which I had not had with either boy, but it needed careful planning. Tomorrow ... I got on my back on the middle of the bed. "Come on Matt, climb on." We'd done it this way a few times before, but it was new to Thomas - I don't really know why. "Hold his cock for me," instructed Matt as he knelt over me. "Wait a minute," I said, "are you lubed?" Matt shook his head. "Get Thomas to see to you then while I have a piss." When I got back Thomas was enjoying having two lubed fingers in Matt almost as much as Matt was enjoying them. This time my cock was properly hard and Thomas's fingers held it while a greased Matt lowered himself. "Pull my foreskin back," I whispered. Thomas, without being told, used my cock as a paintbrush coating Matt's arse lips with primer - precum in this case. "God! that looks hot," he murmured, "it's fun to have it done to you, but seeing it close up's good too." Matt waited a few seconds until the painter had finished. I felt his arse lips caressing my sensitive cockhead, and I made an involuntary upward jerk so that my cockhead was inside. This is how Matt likes it, and he looked at me. "OK?" he mouthed. I nodded; Matt dropped; my cock disappeared - all the way. "Christ!" whispered the painter, "didn't that hurt?" I shook my head, as did Matt. Which of us had Thomas been asking? As I was all the way in Matt could lean forward onto my chest, and I put my arms round him. "Fuck me, Bertie, I need you." After a few minutes I released him from my arms, gently pushing him upright. I wanted Thomas to have the opportunity to put himself somewhere, and if Matt and I were tightly embracing there wasn't much choice for him. Matt was wreathed in sweat, as was I, and we were both aware that I could last a lot longer. I was doing the work; Matt's hands were on my chest steadying himself. Thomas watched, not yet ready to join in. I was watching for the familiar signs: Matt's groans began to be more intense; his upper chest flushed as blood rushed in and ... "yesss" as his cock jetted two, three lines onto me. Thomas moved; Thomas's tongue traced the three lines; the three lines were gone; Thomas spent half a second making his decision; it was Matt's lips to whom Thomas's spunkiferous lips were joined; the exchange was made; Thomas spend another half second debating - yes, why not? Bertie had said 'anything'; Thomas knelt over my chest, his cock conveniently placed just in front of my mouth; Thomas grinned devilishly. "Suck me while you fuck him and see who comes first." Thomas had certainly come out of his sir-infested shell. I settled down to a rhythm I knew I could keep up for some time, but on previous occasions when I'd fucked Matt this way I had not had anything as stimulating in my mouth as I had then. I was in no position to stop Thomas from cheating - not that I would have wanted to - when he pulled his cock back so that only the tip of it - glistening with a mixture of my saliva and his precum - lay on my lower lip, and began a slow wank. "Mmm," from me. A race had begun, but a race which would be lost by the winner. Very soon it became clear that the race - won or lost - would not last much longer. Thomas speeded up and pushed his cock, already shooting, into my mouth. The feeling of a 14-year-old's spunk firing with youthful vigour over my tongue was enough for me to thrust hard hard hard into the 17-year-old impaled on my cock and fire (with less vigour, alas) into Matt. I had won; we had all won - three orgasms within a few minutes on a bed in rural Norfolk; three orgasms in the right places; three orgasms which would be followed by several more in different places on the same bed. We remained where we'd been, cocks softening but still in the same places. "I need a piss," said Matt, breaking the spell. Tomorrow, I thought. Thomas got off me, not before I had pulled hum down for a kiss. "I loved it when you came in my mouth," I whispered. "Me too, Bertie." Matt got off, allowing a gratifying amount of spunk to leak onto my belly. He called \Thomas's attention to it. "I bet you can't get all that up before I'm back," he said, and ran off to the bog. Thomas needed no further encouragement. ***** The rest of the day, and the night, saw further pairings and many more ejaculations. After a long pre-sleep session during which Matt had fucked me for only the third time (he made it last a lot longer than he had on the earlier occasions, but that was more down to it being his fourth orgasm rather than any greater skill) we lay together whispering about what we might do the next day. There is something special about being fucked face-to-face by a sexual engine at his peak of potency, and when his balls are a touch weary and the journey lasts - as it did then - almost half an hour the specialness id greatly magnified. During this marathon Thomas had chosen merely to be a spectator until we were almost at journey's end when he moved behind Matt and, grabbing him firmly by the waist, glued his mouth to his arse. "Oh Jesus!" moaned Matt, "that's so fucking hot, Thomas." Thomas's tongue turned up the heat and Matt howled in lustful joy. I felt his cock swell and pump what was left after a long day's sexual excess into me. He collapsed. "I'm whacked, Bertie, hold me," he said softly. A minute later the three of us were cuddled together nuzzling the nearest bit of whoever was next to us. "This is nice," murmured Thomas. Amen to that, I thought - and there's all of tomorrow to look forward to. It was a shame that we all had to get up to piss. "I needed to piss so badly when Matt was fucking you, but I didn't want to stop," Thomas had whispered, "then I came in your mouth and the piss sort of disappeared for a moment." When the moment was right the next day I decided I would remind him of that confidence. ***** By mutual agreement it was decided that we would remain unsinning until after we had had lunch. Rabbit stew beckoned, after all. It was still scorching and the three of us went to explore the grounds: our desire for indoor activities yesterday had meant we had no idea of what lay outside. There was a wood to the north and west of the grounds which looked impenetrable; to the east was farmland under wheat. The house was at the north of the estate with lawn (putting it politely) stretching a couple of hundred yards south to the boundary. It was completely free from being overlooked. The landlord of the King's Arms greeted us as old friends. "Three rabbit stews, please," I said as I went to the bar. "No rabbit stew, I'm afraid," he said, "but maybe you'd like a bit of venison?" I was astonished: I hadn't eaten venison since before the War. Then it dawned on me: venison wasn't likely to appear in a butcher's shop. "One or two of my regulars like to go out of a night," he said, "and you'd be surprised what they run into." I ordered three portions of venison pie and, since he had confessed to involvement in illegal activity, I decided to order three pints of his bitter. He gave me an old-fashioned look. "Funny how young some 18-year-olds look, isn't it?" I could only agree, adding that he should keep the change to the two half-crowns I slid across the bar. Matt eyed his pint with enthusiasm. "This is more like it, Bertie," he said happily. 15 seconds later, when half of it had gone, he gave his judgement. "I prefer ours, but this is tasty too." Loyal retainers are the best kind, I thought, and I rather liked the 'ours' too. Thomas, whose nose had wrinkled at his first taste, heard the noxious fluid thus praised. A combination of things made him try again ... and after a third mouthful he decided that though it wasn't nice he would drink it to be grown up like Matt (rapidly becoming his hero). The venison pie was a great success, as were the second pints (though Thomas had plucked up his courage and asked for lemonade: I was happy - what mattered to me was getting a pint of liquid into him). I went to pay for the food and the landlord gave me a long look, but not an unfriendly one. I told him how much I and my boys had enjoyed the food. "It makes a big change from the rationing." "Ah well," he said, "if you live in the country you can feed off the country." As he got my change - I left him another generous tip - he winked and said that he was happy not to notice that my boys weren't quite 18 yet. "No, you're right," I said softly, " but I won't tell if you don't." He then dropped his bombshell. "I won't tell about the other either." I must have looked a question. "I fancy the younger one myself," he whispered across the bar, "nice arse on him, eh?" I grinned. "But they're both mine." Back at the lodge we stripped again. It was even hotter than the day before. "Come on outside," I said, "I dare you both to lie in the sun and get your boy bits nicely warmed." I knew that the beer would soon make an appearance - I was feeling a bit uncomfortable, and my capacity was greater than theirs. "Hang on, I need a piss," said Matt. "Oh no," I said quickly, "there's outside for that kind of thing. Matt and Thomas exchanged a curious look, and Matt shrugged. They both followed me out. I'd brought a sheet with me which I spread on the grass in the patch of sun behind the house. I lay on my back. "This is the life," I said, "come and join me, gentlemen." Thomas giggled. "I'm not a gentleman, Bertie." "Perhaps not," I said softly, "but you're the next best thing." "What's that?" asked Matt, already down next to me on the sheet. "A gentleman's best boy. Best equal boy, in his case, equal with you." "You're daft," said Matt happily, knowing that licence to say such things had tacitly been granted with the removal of our clothes, "I still need a piss though." I turned to him. "You have a choice, Matt. You can go over there and piss by the fence like a gentleman, or you can stay here and piss like a ... sexy boy." Thomas, standing beside the two of us, heard this. "What do you mean, like a sexy boy? What do sexy boys do when they're pissing that isn't the same as everyone else?" I sat up. "Do you really not know, the two of you?" Each shook his head. "Do you want to know?" Each nodded. "Very well then." =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 90 as a new avenue of depravity is explored. The next couple of weeks see me with a much heavier time commitment on other things than has been the case since before COVID-19 struck, and it's likely that longer intervals will occur between the next few chapters. Bear with me, and while you do so think what it must be like for Matt and Thomas, each with two unaccustomed pints swilling about in his bladder, having to wait several days before release is permitted. You know and I know how - and where - this will happen, but they, poor innocent lads, don't. But I fancy they may become as keen on this unusual pastime as Bertie (and every other Cunliffe) appears to be. And, truth to tell, as badboi666 is. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================