Date: Tue, 27 Nov 2018 12:43:26 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 106 Queen Mary Bell-boys 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 106 "OK, both of you, get your kit off," said Archie as he and Thomas showed us by example. Archie was uncut, a rarity among Americans as we'd all discovered. When I commented on this he rolled his eyes and said, "oh, massa, niggers aint got the money for such white man's trash. 'Sides, we got huge dicks 'n we wanna make sure they seen." I congratulated him on the wisdom of his people, and indeed on the endowment which his disrobing revealed. It hung between his thighs fat, black, full of the promise of delights to come. And at about 10 inches pointing downwards the promises would surely be big ones. Although he was contracted to suck me off it would have been impossible to resist getting my lips round it, and I didn't even try. "Mmm!" murmured Archie, "you done this before, white boy." "Oh shut up, Archie," said Thomas, "they're on our side - four queer boys together. Quit the nigger crap." Archie grinned. Prince had been somewhat taken aback, both by Archie's language and the way Thomas ragged him. He and I were learning so much about race relations, and how a word like "nigger" could be insulting in an enemy's mouth yet friendly in a friend's. Over the years "queer" would of course make the same journey until now, when Charlie and I are proud to call ourselves queer. It's sort of ... in your face. (Writing that sentence - with Charlie in the present tense - has stopped me in my tracks. It's over a year now, and although to a very old man the death of one's lover is no great surprise, the hole left behind is still immense.) Which is where Archie was, a good deal more vertical than he had been. "Stop, Patrick, I love what you're doing, but I don't want to jizz in your mouth ... not yet, anyway." It was my turn to grin. We switched places and soon I felt Archie's lips and tongue swirling around my cockhead. He'd pulled back my foreskin and licked me before taking my cock into his mouth - and my God! he was good at it. I wasn't going to last long. Seventeen, thirty four, fifty one ... a hundred and sixty thr- ... aaaah! aaah!" "Ssh! for God's sake," said Thomas, "all the other passengers will want some." "Sorry," I whispered, coming down from an orgasm wholly unexpected in its intensity. As soon as we'd finished Prince said to Archie, "can you make me as happy as Patrick is?" He needed no second invitation, and Prince's ebony cock was soon filling Archie's arse, and a few minutes later it was filling Archie's arse with something which had never been there before - plentiful English spunk. Archie sighed happily. "When I first felt your dick I knew it would be special, Prince." "Do you ever feel like doing this kind of thing with passengers?" I asked. Thomas laughed. "There are two answers. What do you think we're doing now? And no, we don't. We're boyfriends so we don't fuck around with other guys. But nice sexy kids like you two - well, that's a whole different game." I had thought that sex with them had been my idea, but Thomas went on, "and don't think we didn't spot you as soon as you boarded. We told Ken we wanted to meet you, and that was that." "I didn't think Ken was interested," I said. "He isn't in boys, but he likes to get his thrills with girls - not kids, don't get me wrong, but anything with nice tits who's over 16. He lets me know and I make the introductions, just like he did for us tonight," explained Archie I had to take my hat off at the professional approach the three of them had evolved. There was a big sofa, occupying most of one side of the little room. We were right at the tail of the aircraft, and it was a squeeze for all four of us to get comfortable. However, since close - extremely close - bodily contact was what all four of us wanted we found it ideal. Thomas and Archie got Prince and me to lie head to head along the wall side of the sofa while they got down next to us to stop us rolling off. Well, that's what Thomas said. I think he just wanted to snuggle really close to me. We stroked each other, faces, chests, bellies, faces again. It's something that very rarely happened with clients on the ship. There they were paying good money to fuck us, or for us to fuck them, and tenderness happened only occasionally. Here we had no time constraints, and by then Prince and I had forgotten to be worried by the risk if discovery. So we just looked at the face of the man who would soon be fucking us, and stroked his cheeks, his chin, his neck, his chest. Nobody was touching anybody's cock - there would be time for that later. I found myself marvelling that the sensation of stroking Thomas's face was completely different from how I felt when I did the same to Charlie. It was very pleasant, but it lacked any emotional content: it was sensuous, but we all knew that it was only a prelude - prolonged and enjoyable as it was - to the serious business of fucking, or being fucked. Thomas was the first to stir. "I think I'm ready to get inside you, Patrick." Not the most subtle approach perhaps, but we all knew why we were there. Before either of the men could suggest a position Prince, to his credit, said that we both loved being fucked on our backs "so we can see your faces as you come". Thomas and Archie said that was fine with them, so Prince and I scooted over a little, still head to head, allowing the men to kneel between our legs. They were facing each other and co-ordinated what they were doing. Each put a finger in, and each was surprised to find two greased arses. "We're professionals, don't forget," I said, "you can get a lot more than one finger in there." "Best of all is all those hot hard inches," added Prince. I was glad to hear him taking as active a part as this: it suggested he was regaining his old confidence. Those hot hard inches were very soon playing touchy-feely games at our arse lips, and both of us raised our legs and wrapped them round our partner's chest. "Get those inches in," murmured Prince, "I can take them." This was a new Prince. At the recruiting it had been an uphill struggle to get him to agree to being fucked by Ryan. Then he'd been raped by goodness knows how many brutes. He'd been OK with being fucked by clients since he got back on Queen Mary, but I'd never had the idea that he was loving it as much as the rest of us. He was happy for me to fuck him, but now he was panting for something a lot bigger than me up him. A new Prince, and, from the sounds he was making (purring and mewing like a cat), a very contented one. Archie was happy too, although I couldn't see his face. All I could see was Thomas. All I could feel was Thomas, buried deep on each stroke, almost all the way out in between. "Ram it in hard," I murmured, "I want to feel you slamming into me." It's funny how sometimes you want to be fucked gently, slowly, taking ages, and sometimes you want to be banged as hard as possible. I think it depends on who's fucking you. And sometimes it's really sexy if someone who usually fucks you one way does it the other. Thomas was getting faster and harder and at last he pushed hard and I felt his cock spasm as five, six, seven distinct blasts of come were fired into me. I'd been wanking myself slowly for some minutes and accelerated as he got there, so my cock was pouring spunk very visibly only a few seconds after his finished doing so in the dark. "Wow!" I said, "that was special." Thomas smiled down at me. "Welcome to the Mile High Club." "What's that?" I said. "Anyone who's been fucked more than 5000-odd feet up." I grinned. "There can't be too many." At that moment it was evident that I was no longer the most recent person admitted to that select band. "The last time I had a cock that big up me it was rape, and it was horrible. What you just did was the best fuck I've had in over a year since then. Patrick knows all about it, and - oh, I wish I had the words - Patrick, I'm healed. Archie has made me enjoy sex more than I have since joining you all. That was the best fuck ever." I was impressed. All Archie had done was fuck Prince, albeit with a cock damn nearly a foot long, for about 20 minutes. Still, there had been plenty of miracles wrought in less than 20 minutes, and even the most ex ex-Catholic doesn't deny miracles happen now and again. Prince had been broken, and was whole again - and not just whole but 10 feet tall with horns and lightning playing about them. Like me, Prince had come all over his belly and his chest. The sight of pearly trails on a black body had the effect on me it always has: an irresistible desire to remove them. I turned over and 69ed with him. Whether he licked up my come was up to him - if he didn't I thought it likely that one of Thomas or Archie would be interested in freshly-poured teen jizz. But Prince was whole again, and something instinctive drove him to seek protein. "You boys do this all the time, don't you," said Archie. "Mmm," from Prince was all the reply needed. Although we had all planned to do more with each other, none of us was up to it. All lovers swear more performance than they are able. The four of us got dressed again. Thomas said he would have a word with the senior navigator to see where Queen Mary was. "It might be possible to alter course a bit. I'll let you know." He kissed the end of my nose. "You're a real find, Patrick. I hope you find someone to make you happy." I told him about Charlie, and he gave me a kiss on the lips. "Tell Charlie he's a lucky fellow." I said that Prince, who had watched all this without saying anything, was in a similar happy position. "Graham," he said simply. Archie kissed him on the lips and told him to pass the kiss on to Graham. This was in danger of getting out of hand, so I dragged Prince back to our seats. Everyone around was still asleep - all except one. Sir smiled as we passed him, but didn't say anything. At around 0800 the Captain came on the loudspeaker to say that we would be making a detour. "We'll still arrive in Ireland when we're due, but I though you would all like to see one of the most beautiful sights at sea. In about half an hour we will fly over Queen Mary. As some if you may know, we have three crew members on board with us, and they're flying home to join the ship in Southampton. We will be there two days before Queen Mary. I will let you know when she is in sight." Sir came across and leant over me. "I suppose we have you to thank for that, Patrick. I hope the price you had to pay wasn't too heavy." I assured him that the burden had been manfully shared by Prince, and he chuckled. (Later, when the two of us had a quiet chat in Foynes while we were refuelling, I told him that Prince had finally overcome whatever difficulties he still had as a result of bloody Edward. "Are you sure? I'm glad, Patrick, really glad. I know he's been doing his best, and I've been aware, as I imagine you were, that he hasn't been enjoying some aspects of his work as much as the rest of you do." "He was fucked last night and the man who fucked him flicked an invisible switch somewhere, and Prince is a new man. I don't understand it, but I'm almost as happy as he is." "Thank you, Patrick. I'll have a word with him and tell him how pleased I am.") Just before 0830 the Captain came on again. I could feel from the popping in my ears that we had descended from 11000 feet (which he'd told us was our cruising height) and I could see a trail in the water of the wake of a ship. He told us to look out of the port side (that's where Prince and I were) and there she was - 5000 feet below us ploughing a steady course eastward. The plane banked and completed a slow circle before levelling off and climbing again through the thin cloud. Prince and I just looked at each other: there was home, just a mile beneath us, and on her were Charlie and Graham and all the others. Neither of us said anything, because if we'd tried to we'd have been unable to. Seeing her like that made her importance to us very real. Applause broke out in the Lounge and we both waved. Sir had looked over us as we made the circuit, and he too was moved, I think. "Well done, you two," he said quietly, "I wonder if anyone down there saw us." I said they must have seen us from the Bridge, and if Will and Sam were on duty word would doubtless get round. "Yes, but do they know we're on board?" said Prince. When we landed in Ireland to refuel for the last leg everyone on board was pretty fed up with the delights of air travel. It was supposedly luxurious and given the limitations of what could be offered in a metal box 11000 feet up they did a good job, but it didn't compare with what we offered, even to the ordinary passengers. I didn't think flying was likely to catch on, certainly while it was as noisy and as time-consuming as this was. Maybe one day they'd find a way of getting from New York to England in one go, but I wasn't holding my breath. That was how I felt in 1939, and looking back, my judgement was all that bad. It took over 20 years for Frank Whittle's fine invention to put the final nail into transatlantic shipping. And to this day, of course, Queen Mary 2 still carries people like me in a lot more comfort than an airline can - and, as you know, with photographs of us lot. Shortly after we left Foynes Ken approached Sir and asked him to come to the cockpit. When he returned ten minutes later he handed me a sealed envelope. "The Captain wants this given to our Captain," he said, "but I think you ought to be the messenger. After all, without you I don't suppose it would have been written." I was alarmed, and it must have shown. Sir smiled. "Don't worry, Patrick, it's not a report of your illicit goings-on with his crew." The last leg was short, and we landed in Southampton around 1800. Queen Mary would dock 36 hours later. Prince and I had two nights to fill, but as we also had the same number of arses and of mouths we didn't expect too much in the way of boredom. Sir had told the Cunard people to fix up two rooms in the crew quarters where we'd been before, and when we got there, exhausted by the noise and with our ears still ringing we were still disoriented. On the ship the time changes were gradual - an hour a day at most - but flying made the clock whizz around a lot faster - too fast for comfort. We ate at 1900 as far as the clock was concerned, but it felt more like midday. On the other hand sleep had been but a brief friend during the night over the Atlantic, so we were both - all three - ready to turn in soon after. Although Prince and I were both knackered after the long flight we were not too exhausted to indulge in a little erotic behaviour when we got into bed. I told him to lie on his back with his knees drawn up. I knelt on the bed between his legs and bent to rim him. Prince's arse crack, like all the others', was smooth and completely hairless. The territory was familiar to me, but my tongue still explored it as though it was being experienced for the first time. "Push out," I murmured, "that way I'll get my tongue inside you." I felt his lips widen as he pushed and my tongue licked the soft flesh normally just inside his body. He sighed deeply. "Oh, Patrick, that's so nice." I gave his arse a final lick and put two fingers in. He wriggled. "More," he whispered. "I thought we planned to do it in different ways," I whispered. "Yes, so get more fingers in." I soon had four in, and pushed as far as my knuckles. I'd never fisted Prince, and as far as I knew nobody else had either. "I've got small hands," I whispered, "do you want me to try?" "No, not now. Maybe tomorrow. Let's not be too energetic tonight. Let's just wank each other and sleep." I moved up from his arse. "OK," and I kissed him. "You really have come a long way, haven't you," I said, "and Graham will be thrilled." He nodded. As we were both right-handed Prince turned round so that we were head to toe. That way each of us could wank the other properly. I hadn't expected an old-fashioned wank to be part of the let's-do-it-in-as-many-ways session of getting each other off, but for two tired teenagers it made a lot of sense. We each stroked the other's cock, occasionally teasing his balls. Gradually the thing built up and I knew he was close. I speeded up. "Yes, yes ... aaah!" and cum shot out of his cock onto his belly. "Don't stop," I moaned, "I'm pretty close too." He wanked me faster and as I got there .I arched my back and my cock squirted onto me. We both lay there panting, the cum glistening where it had landed. Neither of us had the energy to get out of bed to clean up, and for once I didn't want to lick. It seemed more appropriate that night just to let Prince turn back round so that we could embrace, our spunky bellies remaining sticky between us. "That was different," he said. I smiled. "Yeah. It was a bit like the wanks Tim and I used to have when we first shot spunk. We loved doing it on each other and letting it dry." "I thought you loved licking it up." "So I do, and so does Tim, but if you're wanking each other in bed last thing at night you just want to cuddle and go to sleep. We used to lick the daytime spunk though." Prince sighed. "I wish I had a brother." "You don't need one now you've got Graham." He sighed again. Two minutes later his rhythmic breathing told me that he was asleep. Two minutes later so was I. It was still only about 2130. Our body clocks being all shot to pieces we woke at about 0500. Or rather, I woke then. Prince was lying on his back next to me, his chest rising and falling gently as he breathed peacefully. What a lot he'd been through, I thought: the trauma of a year ago had evidently stayed with him until only a day before. Graham - all of us - would see a big change. As far as sex would be concerned Prince was going to be much more open to saying what he wanted, and - I hoped - much more receptive to what others of us wanted to share with him. And as far as Prince being a cheerful 16-year-old member of a small community of like-minded whores, I was sure we'd see changes there too. Aside from our professional activities (acknowledged an unacknowledged by Cunard) we had a lot of fun, and I hoped that Prince would be a bigger part of the fun side of our life together than he'd allowed himself to be. Thank you, Archie, I thought: you'll never know what lasting joy you brought, aside from the gush of spunk which flew onto Prince's chest when he joined the Mile High Club. Beside me Prince began to stir. He opened his eyes to fine me looking at him. "What is it?" he said sleepily. "It isn't anything. I was just looking at you." "Why? What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong, Prince. I was looking at you because you're beautiful. Your face is sweet when you're asleep and peaceful and your body is gorgeous." I pulled back the bedclothes. "Your cock isn't bad either." Needless to say it had `morning glory' written all over it, all God knows how many gorgeous inches of it. Within seconds quite a few of them were in my mouth. "Hang on," he said, detaching himself before wriggling round to 69 me. "OK, Patrick, get worshipping again." Unusually for an early morning session we were in no hurry, and each of us took time to explore under the other's foreskin and enjoy tonguing his frenulum. I reached down and took one of his balls in my mouth and he gasped, then a few seconds later he did the same to me. We went on copying each other for several minutes, gradually letting ourselves build up the erotic tension. I was near and I could sense he was too, so our tongues started a mad dah to try to reach our climaxes now, now, now ... and ... yesss ... I shot hard into Prince's soft warm mouth, his tongue still gently caressing my glans as it poured its morning offering and ... aah! ... I felt Prince's cock swell and in my mind's eye I could see his piss-slit open and a stream of spunk flood out of it onto my tongue round and round my mouth ... mmm! ... and another and another and I swallowed and he swallowed and as he did so my cock pulsed one last time and another drop of his spunk landed on my tongue and ... oh God, Prince, you are so fucking sexy let's stay in bed and just fuck each other all day. But life isn't like that and after just lying there, our cocks soft but still in each other's mouth, it was time to get up. "Good morning," I said. "Yes, isn't it. You know what?" "No, tell me." "I can't want to get back to Graham. The last 20 minutes was so good, and I know that waking up with Graham is going to be ten times better." I smiled to myself - I was becoming very fond of Prince. He had been the hardest of the new ones to get to know, but the change in him since leaving Philadelphia had been dramatic. "He won't know what hit him if that's true," I said, "he'll be the happiest boy on the ship." "No, Patrick, he will be one of the four happiest boys. You and Charlie too." I kissed his nose. "Yeah, you big romantic bugger. Come on, it's breakfast time." =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 107 as we rejoin Queen Mary and things take a turn for the worse. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing last year, and the boy I describe as "me" is really cute. I'm sure he had adventures ... Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================