Date: Sun, 13 Oct 2019 16:04:46 +0000 From: puermalo1 Subject: Peckerwood Prep School PART 10 What follows is a work of fiction with no basis on real events or people. It involves consensual sexual activity involving adults and minors so if this sort of material is offensive, or if you are prohibited from reading it, please proceed no further. PECKERWOOD PREP SCHOOL 17. CHRISTMAS PARTY Peckerwood's Christmas party was a great success. The oldest boys (my form) were granted the afternoon free from lessons to decorate the school dining hall. Mr Garnett, the school's odd-job man, had erected a large Christmas tree and then retrieved box-loads of lights, tinsel and other decorations from the cellars. I met the boys there after lunch and called them around me in a huddle. "We don't have very long to do this, boys," I said, "So I'll divide you into groups with different tasks." They all looked rather excited. This was certainly better than Latin and French which they were missing! I designated the tasks. "Atkins, Jenkins, MacClaggan and Brookes - you'll decorate the Christmas tree. Williams, Thomson and Belmont – you'll be the balloon-blowing team. Cunnington, Smyth, Rafferty and Ortega – you're job is to decorate the masters' top table and put out all the crackers. That leaves Murchison, Phillips and Austin – you will help me with the daisy chains across the ceiling." I clapped my hands together, spurring them into action, "Let's get going, chaps!" They ransacked the boxes and were soon scattered about the large hall, chatting away merrily as they busied themselves. "There are two ladders outside," I said to my trio of helpers, "Fetch them in and we'll make a start." In these modern days, no-one would contemplate letting young schoolboys ascend ladders, precariously attaching paper decorations with drawing pins and sticky-tape! There were no 'risk assessments' back then and perhaps giving boys something challenging made them all the better for it! The three boys were soon scuttling up and down the ladders hanging the seasonal decorations. "Sir, can you help me, please?" asked Murchison, from his perch at the top of a ladder, "I can't get the pin to stick in." "Stay there," I said, "I'll climb up and do it for you." I made my way up the ladder towards him. It was decidedly sensual sliding my body up behind his. I could smell his boyness as I brushed past his deliciously long, slender legs. I stood one rung below him, my groin pushing against his young bottom. "Give me the pin, William," I said. He handed me the pin and I fixed it into the wooden beam, virtually hugging the youngster from behind. "This is cozy, isn't it, sir?" he said. There was something about the way he said it that surprised me. He wasn't just stating a fact but rather making a seductive aside. "Um, yes, I suppose it is," I replied, "In a funny sort of way." Our heads were side-by-side. He dropped his voice and whispered, "Do you like being cozy with me, sir?" "Yes, it is nice, William," I whispered back, "Do you like it, too?" "Yes, sir. I do!" I glanced around the hall. All the other boys were busily engaged and chatting away. I moved my free arm down, out of sight of everyone else, and reached a hand towards William's groin. He wasn't erect but I could easily make out the form of his penis tucked inside his grey school trousers. I gave the pubescent organ a squeeze and within seconds I could feel him stiffen beneath my groping fingers. "Oh, you naughty boy!" I whispered directly into his ear. Of course, we could take this no further on this occasion so I reluctantly withdrew my hand. It was just in time, too, as Miles was at the bottom of the ladder looking up at us. "We've finished, sir, what do you think?" Miles said. I looked around at the decorated tree. From my vantage point it looked beautiful. "Excellent job, boys, well done!" I began to descend the ladder but William held me back. "Sir, has Mr Smyth spoken to you about the, you know, the secret thing?" "Yes, he has, William." "I hope you said yes, sir!" "I did!" "That's super-dooper, sir! It will be such wicked fun!" "Shhhh!" I gestured, "No-one else must ever, ever know, do you understand?" "Yes, sir, don't worry, I''ll not let on to anyone, even my best friends." ... The party itself was a splendid affair. The schoolmasters assembled at the top table and, in time-honoured tradition, the boys filed in form by form. My boys looked quite the part in their native American outfits. Perhaps they weren't very authentic but the boys revelled in their fun costumes, especially as they had been allowed to add a splash of war-paint here and there. Nicholas, of course, looked simply delicious in his outfit. How he had the nerve to wear only a simple loincloth I had no idea. At least he'd kept his cute white underpants on, otherwise his little boycock would have been virtually on show for the whole time! The next form to march in, parading their fancy dress for the masters to view, were the year below my lads so mostly eleven-year-olds. They were dressed as pirates complete with cutlasses and eye-patches. One boy even had a toy parrot strapped on his shoulder. I didn't know these boys quite as well as my own although I had seen them often enough at shower time. Before I knew it, I was checking them out and beginning to wonder which ones I would have taken to my bed by this time next year. They were followed by the ten-year-olds, who were dressed as knights of old, and the younger boys who seemed to be a mixture of pixies and robots! They all looked very cute. Soon the boys were standing in their places at the tables around the room. Up to this point there had been absolute silence from the boys, which was extraordinary considering their dress. The Headmaster stood up and led everybody in the grace then allowed the boys to sit. "Merry Christmas, everyone!" he announced, in an uncharacteristic moment of levity. The hall erupted into bedlam as the boys pounded their fists on the table-tops and screamed uncontrollably. The pandemonium lasted for about a minute, after which the Headmaster held up a hand. In an instant, sanity was restored and the noise subsided. I turned to Mr Smyth who happened to be sitting next to me. "That was crazy!" I said, "I thought we had a revolution on our hands." "No, it's fine," Mr Smyth explained, "The Christmas party always begins like this. It's a tradition that goes back years. Give 'em a moment to scream and shout and then their not too silly for the rest of the party." There were all sorts of treats to eat, much better than the usual supper fare. The boys tucked into sandwiches followed by an assortment of cakes. The feast was rounded of with helpings of jelly and ice-cream. "By the way," said Mr Smyth, "Murchison is staying on for an extra night at the end of term, so that would be the ideal evening for our little...you know, err,...extravaganza!" Although nearly all the boys were fetched by their parents promptly at the end of term, a handful had to wait until the next day, particularly when they were relying on flights to more distant places. Murchison was flying to Barbados for the holiday and was going to meet up with his parents there. It would certainly make what Mr Smyth had planned a much more straightforward arrangement as there would be very few other boys around the place then. Soon enough the party came to a close. For once the boys weren't expected to shower which meant straight back to the dormitories and into bed. The younger boys would soon be tucked up while the older boys were allowed extra reading in bed time. I couldn't resist standing in the dormitory watching my boys stepping out of their costumes. The few seconds of them being naked before slipping into their pyjamas allowed me a glimpse at each one. It was a pubescent paradise as I ogled each of them, a delicious smorgasborg of boys' willies. Some plump, some long and thin, some little stubs of barely an inch. All but two were uncircumsized, most were devoid of pubic hair or, at most, had merely a few wisps. They seemed oblivious to my scrutiny as they prepared for bed. Dominic had his back turned as he stepped into his pyjama bottoms. He bent over a little, flaunting his plump rear. I could resist giving it a friendly smack. "Ouch!" he yelped, "Oh, it's you sir!" "Hurry up boys, you should be in bed by now," I announced, "Last one between the sheets is a silly sausage!" This hurried them along well enough and fourteen boys were soon bouncing into their beds. Dominic looked at me mischievously. No-one else could see him as he gesticulated with his hands. He pointed at me, then himself, and then pushed a finger of one hand in and out of the fist he'd made with the other. I had no idea where he learned such a crude gesture for fucking but it did the trick. I flashed all my fingers three times, signalling that he could come to my room after thirty minutes. It was my last chance this term to have my cock in his sweet bottom so I could hardly turn his request down! Sure enough, Dominic knocked gently on my door half-an-hour later and I let him in. "Are the other boys asleep yet?" I asked. "Some are but there's quite a bit of naughtiness going on as well!" I supposed that as it was the last night of term then several boys would be making the most of a final opportunity to have some sexy fun. Dominic explained, "Miles in in Nicholas's bed and Thomson is in Belmont's!" As nice as it would have been to have an orgy with them all, I wanted my last evening to be alone with my special boy. "They're such naughty boys!" I chuckled. "Yes, they are, sir," Dominic grinned, "Even Rafferty's vanished from his bed." "What? He's gone?" "No, it's fine, sir. I heard him talking to Peter earlier. I think they're planning to jump on Aubrey, then strip him and toss him off!" For a moment I thought of the other boys in my dormitory, those who I had sidelined in my dirty pursuits. Maybe it would be worth taking a crack at some of them next term. My thoughts quickly returned to the here and now as I followed young Dominic into my bedroom. "It's my last night, sir," said the boy, "This time tomorrow I'll be in my own bed at home." "Are you looking forward to going home?" I asked. "Oh, yes, sir! It will be lovely to see mummy again and then there'll be Christmas with presents and things!" "Christmas is always such fun, isn't it!" "Yes it is but I'll miss you, too, sir." "I'll miss you, Dominic." "And I'm looking forward to next term already!" During this conversation I had undressed the boy. He now stood in just his underpants with a stiff erection pushing outwards. I cupped it in my hands, squeezing the youngster's member and stroking his little balls through the fabric. "I'm going to miss this most of all," Dominic said, "There's no-one at home who I can do stuff with." "Let's not worry about that now," I said, "Hop into the bed while I get undressed." I stripped to my underwear and joined the boy between the sheets. I couldn't resist hugging my young lover and he was more than pleased to hug me in return. "Ooo, sir!" he giggled, "I can feel your stiffie!" Indeed, I was hard and pressing my erection against his warm body. "And I can feel yours," I said, reaching a hand to his groin and finding his four-inch peg stiff and ready, "Let me suck you." He decided the best way for this was to sit on my upper chest, pinning my shoulders down with his knees. It was then easy for him to guide his cocklet between my eager lips. I worked on the tip of it, coating it with my spittle and licking it gently. I managed to free one of my hands which I used to hold his iron-hard rod. I wanted to pull the foreskin back so that I might lick the tender bulb beneath. It was tight and not without discomfort for him but, all of a sudden it seemed, the skin rolled back and his little glans almost popped free. I don't think he had ever achieved this and he cooed and giggled as he felt my tongue on his uncovered tip. "Keep practising pulling it back, Dominic," I suggested, "It is much more sensitive there and you'll love sexy stuff even more. Besides, good boys need to keep nice and clean under there so every time you have a bath pull the skin back like it is now." The brief instruction done I returned to sucking him. Now I was taking him to the base of his cocklet, my nose right against the wispies emerging there. We hadn't been doing it for long when he sprang up, without warning, and turned himself around. From his new position he had merely to stoop a little to suck on my organ. I don't know what was best about this. Perhaps it was having Dominic envelop my penis with his sweet, moist lips, or perhaps it was having his dainty bumhole pressed up against my face. It still tasted slightly soapy as I pushed my tongue into his crack making the hole visibly oscillate. He flattened himself more horizontally and I moved from his bum to his balls. I bathed the hairless, wrinkled skin of his scrotum with my spit, licking first one little ball and then the other. It was easy to fit the entire contents in my mouth so I drew them in creating a vacuum that pulled them away from his body. Judging by the satisfied gasps he emitted he loved this new sensation. I think he even tried to reciprocate but my balls were to large and heavy for his little mouth. Again, he shifted his position. Remaining on top of me he shuffled back, took hold of my engorged penis and pushed it against his hole. He was wet and ready and the precum oozing from my erect penis was enough to lubricate the tightness of his hole. Little by little, he sat back upon it, guiding it with his fingers as it went into him. "Gosh, sir, I don't know if I'll manage tonight," said the boy, his face grimacing in a twinge of pain. "I don't think it's ever felt so enormous!" He persevered, as I allowed him to set the pace, and eventually I was well inside his hot tunnel. I looked at his face, flushed from the excitement of feeling the fullness of my penis inside him. "Oh, sir! That feels so good!" he moaned, shifting his weight to accommodate a little more of me. He leant forward putting his hands on my chest. Then, by working his little hips and buttocks back and forth, he was able to ride on me. Lifting himself up allowed my cock to withdraw, sitting back down meant it slid back inside him. As his pace quickened so did the vigour of our activity. I realise it would be a cliché to describe him as 'going at it like a steam train' but that is a fairly accurate analogy. He bounced up and down on me, panting a gasp of air on each stroke, and gripped hold of me in part to prevent being forced off but also because he was consumed by the erotic fury of it all. I erupted into him, each surge of hot semen a homage both to his beauty and my devotion. His own ejaculation came a little later when I sucked him to completion. As tempting as it was, we agreed that it would not be wise for him to sleep the whole night with me. Reluctantly, he made his way back to dormitory but not before we had kissed. It wasn't a soppy, romantic embrace – boys don't do that even though their schoolmasters wish they would! - but it was tender and affectionate, enough to make my heart skip a beat or two. I was certainly going to miss Dominic for the duration of the holidays. ................................................................................ 18. TERM ENDS WITH A BANG Michaelmas Term officially ended at lunchtime the following day. That afternoon the dormitories were chaotic as boys hastily packed their trunks for the holiday. Deciding what they simply had to take and what they were content to leave behind until next term caused many a boy more than a little consternation. "I don't have room for Foo-Foo!" shouted Nicholas, trying to squeeze a stuffed doggy into his trunk. I went over to him. "Look, it'll fit there between the books and those...eurggh! Smelly underpants!" "They're not smelly sir," he complained, "They just need a wash, that's all!" "And what will your mummy think when you present her with a pair of dirty pants?!" Nicholas laughed. "She won't mind, sir, she'll have to get them washed for me, won't she!" "I don't think taking dirty laundry home with you is what a young gentleman should do," I said. "Gosh, am I a young gentleman, sir?" "Yes, a young gentleman with smelly pants! Give them to me. I'll send them to the laundry and they'll be nice and clean for you next term." He pulled the underwear from his trunk and handed them to me. I jokingly presented my pen for him to suspend the offending article on. I stuffed them into my jacket pocket, well aware that I'd be having more than a few wanks over the holiday with his skimpy garment pressed to my nose. Dominic appeared from around the corner of his cubicle. "Will you miss us, sir?" he asked "Oh, yes," I quipped, "It's going to be awful having peace and quiet around here!" He came up to me and whispered, "I'll miss you, sir. I'm looking forward to next term already!" I couldn't resist a friendly pat on his bottom as he returned to his packing. Parents began to arrive to collect their offspring. I joined the Headmaster and other members of staff in the hand-shaking and small-talk that was all part of the job. Soon enough the last of the cars had disappeared down the school drive and away to homes scattered across the land. The school wasn't left entirely deserted, though, as five boys were staying tonight and travelling tomorrow. There was William Murchison, of course, who was the only boy in my dormitory. Two were from Mr Smyth's dorm, the O'Toole twins, who would be flying of to Dublin in the morning. The other pair were younger boys, what we fondly called the little'uns. Matron would be in charge of them so I had no need to worry. Supper was a strange affair. Three members of staff and five schoolboys in the large space of the dining hall seemed odd but protocol had to be observed. "No showers tonight, boys," announced Mr Smyth after the light meal. You can all go to the telly room for an hour and then off to bed." After the boys had left, Mr Smyth took me to one side. "Come to my rooms at eight sharp," he said, "We'll be set up and ready to go!" "Very well, I'll see you later," I replied. Then I headed back to my rooms, in a mixture of trepidation and excitement, to watch the clock ticking by until the hour arrived. ... At precisely eight o'clock I made my way to Mr Smyth's rooms. My dormitory was silent and deserted, quite unlike how I usually found it when I wandered through at night. Then, I would hear the sound of boys' deep breathing as they slept but now it seemed cold and empty. Only the faint yet distinct whiff of boys' socks and underpants remained. I noted that Murchison had already left his bed. He was obviously waiting for me with Mr Smyth. I was very nervous. I had no idea how the photography session work work out or whether I was up to the task. The whole affair felt odd, not least the fact that I would be naked and having sex with a boy in front of another adult. In fact, it was only the allure of having sex with Murchison that drove me on. I soon arrived at Mr Smyth's rooms and could see the light spilling out into the darkness from a gap at the bottom of the door. I knocked and Mr Smyth let me in. "Ah, good evening," he said, very matter-of-factly, "Come along in!" I went in and he locked the door behind us. I looked around his room. He had suspended a white sheet against one wall which he later explained served partly as a neutral background to his pictures but also meant there was less chance that any photographs could be linked to this location. Sitting on a settee on the far side of the room was William Murchison. The boy was in his full school uniform, casually sipping from a mug of cocoa as if this was the most natural place to be! "Good evening, Murchison," I said. "Hello, sir," he replied with a smile. "I think we can dispense with surnames," suggested Mr Smyth, "Let's make it informal and call him William." "Very well," I agreed. "Let me pour you a drink. Scotch and soda?" "Err, yes, thank you." I was glad of the drink. A little Dutch courage for the ensuing proceedings. "Right, we'll make a start," said Mr Smyth, "I've already done a few shots of William in his uniform so everything is set up perfectly." I noted his camera, an expensive model by the look of it, sitting on a tripod. There were also a couple of spotlights which he now switched on, filling the small room with a flood of brilliance. "Let's get the boy naked," said Mr Smyth, "Some sexy stripping off pics always go down well with the punters. Besides, it'll put you in the mood for what's to come, so to speak! Sit yourself down there," he said, pointing to an armchair. I sat to watch, sipping my drink and still rather anxious. "Right then, William," Mr Smyth went on, "Let's be having you! Stand there in the middle...that's good. Now then, you've done this a few times before so I needn't explain. Let's get that uniform off, please. Take your time and give us a good show." When William stood I realised that he was wearing corduroy shorts. As he was one of the older boys, I had been accustomed to seeing him in long trousers. Mr Smyth had clearly decided that a pair of shorts would look better. William was quite a tall lad and his slender legs were delightfully exposed between the shorts and his long grey socks. I couldn't help but notice that the shorts were a size or two too small and the way they hugged his body was quite exquisite. The lump made by his twelve-year-old groin was overtly outrageous, as if his penis and balls were individually sculpted by the tight fabric of the garment. He stripped slowly, pausing for Mr Smyth to take the photographs. He seemed to know what would appeal to the men who would see the pictures and yet managed to make it all look so casual. It could have been any schoolboy anywhere simply undressing. "That's nice, William," said Mr Smyth as the boy, now only in his underpants, turned his back on the camera. "Slip your fingers under the waistband...yes, that's good. Now slowly pull them down and show a bit of your bottom!" William revealed his buttocks inch by inch, tantalising his viewer. "Good boy," said Mr Smyth, "Now sit on the armchair." William sat down, rearranging the bulge in his tight white underpants. Mr Smyth turned to me. "Are you ready, old chap?" I nodded, although I was still uncertain this would work out. Mr Smyth began to outline the scenario he had planned. "We're going to make it look like this," he explained, "The schoolboy has just come home and undressed. Then a man enters. He goes over to the boy, takes out his penis and then the boy sucks it. How does that sound?" "That's fine by me!" William grinned mischievously. "We can try," I added. The forthcoming prospect of having the boy suck me had stiffened my penis fully. We acted out the scene Mr Smyth had described, freezing at certain moments for Mr Smyth to snap away. William unzipped my trousers, freeing my engorged penis at last. "Gosh! What a whopper, sir!" William enthused. "It is a splendid beast," Mr Smyth commended, "Bigger than mine, isn't it William?" "Yes, sir," William replied, "It's the biggest one I've ever seen!" I'm only average size but the compliments made me proud. I stood right in front of the boy who sat upright so he could reach me. My penis throbbed as William took it in his little hands. "Ooo, look, sir," he giggled, "Your willy is all sticky!" He was quite correct, I was oozing precum. Mr Smyth told William to lick me. He did so and then proceeded to suck the head of my shaft between his young lips. I gasped. "Oh, splendid, splendid!" Mr Smyth rhapsodized, "Very nice, William!" For a few moments I simply stood there, hands on hips, as the boy sucked greedily. Mr Smyth offered another suggestion, "Hold his head onto it...that's it! Make it look as though you're forcing him to take it!" Poor William did his best but was soon gagging on my penis as it pushed to the back of his throat. I certainly had no intention of making him feel uncomfortable so I was happy when Mr Smyth told us he'd taken enough pictures of the oral action. "Let us change tack," he said, "Change places so that William is standing and you are seated, please. Oh, and while your at it, could you remove the rest of your clothes, dear fellow?" I stripped naked and sat on the armchair. William stood before me, his erection stretching his pants alluringly. Mr Smyth explained what we were to do next. "I'd like you to lower his pants slowly until they're around his knees. I'll come in and do some close-ups of his willy and then some with you sucking him and playing with it." So we did. Of course, I had seen William's penis many times but never this close and never in an excited state. It was long and thin, rather matching his lanky physique, with a loose foreskin tapering to a point. I estimated it to be nearer five inches than four, making it the biggest of all the Peckerwood boys' willies I had so far seen. In terms of pubes, they were more developed than most boys but not quite the neat little bush that Miles was developing. His balls were small and dangled within a hairless, wrinkled scrotum. I was soon relishing the taste of him, despite the oddness of having Mr Smyth right beside me, pointing the camera as the youthful rod slipped in and out of my hungry mouth. "Oh, sir!" sighed William, "That's very sexy! You'll make me spunk up if you do much more than that!" Much more of that and I'd be ejaculating, too! Yet that was not how Mr Smyth intended things should be. He stopped us in our tracks. "Good, good," he said, "It's time for the bumming now!" I stood, my dripping cock bouncing. "Is William fine with that?" I asked. "Yes, sir," William answered, "I've practised with my fingers and Mr Smyth helped as well." "Have you never been bummed before, William?" I asked. "Only from other boys but never a grown-up." I puzzled over who had bummed him before, wondering if it was any of the boys in my form. This would be something I would have to investigate next term. Mr Smyth handed me a jar of grease. "You'll know what to do with this, I'm sure!" he chuckled. I scooped a generous fingerful and told William to bend over. He put his hands on his knees and turned his little bum towards me. "Wait, let me get some shots," said Mr Smyth. Then he snapped away as I daubed William's puckered orifice, sliding first one finger and then two into his sweet rear end. Then, with William amply lubricated, I smeared more grease on my shaft. Mr Smyth positioned William kneeling on the armchair with his bottom on display. I had to spread my legs some way in order to be at the optimum height behind him. More photographs were taken as I probed him with the mushroom-shaped head of my member, coating his young crack and little hole with the slippery fluid. I mounted the boy slowly at first, so he might become accustomed to the intrusion, but then more deeply and firmly. I could sense him wincing at my advance and he muttered a few sounds of discomfort. "Is it hurting, William?" I enquired. "A little bit, sir, but I'll get used to it in a while." I paused momentarily before resuming my long, slow strokes. "Oh, splendid!" said Mr Smyth. He was between my legs, pointing the camera upwards so he could take close-ups of my shaft embedded in the boy's tight hole. "Now I 'd like some with William sitting on your lap." It all felt rather odd. I couldn't quite reconcile the two roles I found myself playing. Was I the boylover, delighting in the joys of deflowering this sweet youth? Was I a mere cog in the pornographic enactment that was taking place? I tried to put Mr Smyth and his camera out of my mind and concentrate on the pleasure that sex with William afforded. I sat on the armchair and William clambered onto my lap. We tried it with him facing me first. The advantage here was that William could control my penetration by lifting himself up and then sliding gradually onto my hard shaft. After that, we tried with him facing away from me. This allowed me to go deeper into him and also allowed me better access to his stiff cocklet and dainty balls. Mr Smyth sensed my imminent orgasm and gave his stage directions again. "When you're ready, pull out of him and shoot your seed onto his bits!" he said. His manner was so matter-of-fact he might have been merely ordering a sandwich. I felt my semen surging, demanding release. With a squelching sound, I withdrew my penis from William's slippery bum. I hardly needed to masturbate myself and, rubbing the exposed head of my penis against his little nut-sack, I ejaculated. Spurts of thick and creamy semen burst forth, coating his young genitals and splashing his thighs. William, free from the constriction of having just been impaled upon my member, grabbed his rod between his fingers and jerked himself to a frantic orgasm. "Oh, it feels so good, sir," he gasped, "Your sticky spunk all over my willy is bloody amazing!" I overlooked the swearing, of course, and allowed him to wriggle on my lap as he shot his little bolt. A few drops of clear boy-fluid were soon mixed with my thicker deposit that was now trickling down between his thighs and onto me. Mr Smyth was pleased with our efforts and thanked both of us. "It's late, William, so once you've wiped up the mess, get your jimjams back on and then hurry along to bed," he said. Just before William left us, Mr Smyth handed him a five-pound note (quite a large sum back in those days). He told me later that allowed the boy to share in the cash that would be made from the hardcore photographs. There was also an element of 'hush money' about it also, at least, that was how I saw it. I was impressed when, a few days later, I saw the photographs. Mr Smyth had certainly worked wonders capturing every detail of the hot man-boy sex. He handed me a set of prints to keep, with some advice to keep them extremely well hidden, and then he assured me there would be some cash coming my way. He reckoned he would have no difficulty selling them on (and some months later some of the pictures appeared in a boy-love magazine from a publishing house in Amsterdam). I still have the photographs all these years on and continue to enjoy them. I'd have no difficulty in choosing my favourite picture. In this image I am seated on an armchair with William on my lap. He's facing forward with his legs bent and his feet resting on my knees. His legs are wide apart so that the viewer has an excellent view of his slim, stiff boycock and his lovely little balls. You can even make out a few wispy curls. My own cock is clearly visible, pushing up into his insides and stretching his opening. You can see around an inch of my thick penis, shiny with lube. The expression on William's face, somewhere between a grimace of pain and a simpering look of ecstasy – probably a combination of the two! - is proof that the rest of my shaft is firmly embedded in his bottom. ... Comments or suggestions are welcome. I'm here: puermalo1 @ protonmail.com PLEASE CONSIDER A DONATION TO NIFTY. We all love this fabulous resource but it relies on the kind support of those who visit to keep it freely available.