Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2018 08:55:51 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 114 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 114 Polishing off the food didn't take nine of us very long. There was still a decent amount of beer left, but Prince warned Duane that if he was going to keep the fuck up for an hour then too much to drink wasn't a good idea. "Besides," he said, pointing to the very clear evidence, "I'm horny for your big black cock up my hot black ass. This lot want to see some jungle fucking, and you and I are going to show them a thing or two." And he stretched out his hand to Duane's still soft cock and knelt in front of it. "C'mon boy, up you get," he said to it, "you know you want to explore the dark places where Whitey's afraid to go." Duane's cock rather liked that idea, and perked up visibly. Prince gave further evidence of the delights to be discovered in the dark place, and Duane's cock reached a position of readiness to begin the exploration. Prince gave that part which would venture furthest into the darkness a brief kiss. "Next time you feel my lips it'll be from the inside," he whispered. Although this seemed inherently unlikely it served only to give the rest of Duane - the parts that weren't 10 and a bit inches of blood-filled excitement - incentive to get on with it. Prince jumped onto the bed and laid himself comfortably on his back. "No way I'm going to kneel for an hour, Duane - I need to be nice and comfortable while you get to work." Duane didn't seem bothered by Prince's choice of position. "Good thinking, man, you're gonna need your strength." Prince drew his arse cheeks apart and allowed Duane to see the door to delights. "That's where the fun is, Duane, in you come." Duane did as he was bid - fast and without pausing. Why did he do it that way, I wondered for the hundredth time. Did he gobble sweets as a child? Was he imagining there was some kind of race? Fast and furious is great sometimes - both for the guy with the cock and the guy with the arse - but slow and gentle, even teasingly so, is nice too. We professionals knew this instinctively - it had never even crossed my mind to talk about it to any of them, even as beginners - but Duane, the Great Black 10-inch Magic 100% Top Fucker, had a limited box of tricks to bring to the party. I felt a bit sorry for him (but only a bit: even if I'd had a couple of nights to show him there was another way to skin the cat I'd have had no real interest in the process - let some other bugger teach him). While all this was going through my head Duane was settling into a nice rhythm. At least he'd worked out that if he was expected to keep at it for an hour then he ought to be doing 5-minute miles, not 4. Prince was smiling enigmatically (Prince had a wide range of smiles, and the one he had on then told me - and no doubt Graham as well - that as well as being fucked a bit of him was sitting on his shoulder watching). "Like what you see, Prince?" said Graham. I was tempted to add 'wickedly' to that sentence, but I was only 95% confident that Graham knew what was happening and, more importantly, what was going to happen. "Oh yeah, you bet, and I like what I'm feeling up inside too. Duane's cock's grown fingers, and they're playing jungle music up my ass ... oof! ... I love it." How much of this was a dispassionate description of the sensations Duane's fuck was engendering, and how much mere whore talk didn't matter: Duane heard only words whose clear meaning was that he, Duane, was the best fucker Prince had encountered, or probably ever would. "Keep those fingers playing music up me," muttered Prince, "I wanna feel I'm gonna blow up and die when I jizz." To his credit Duane kept up a steady all-the-way-in, almost-all-the-way-out rhythm for over 20 minutes while Prince squirmed nicely and continued to make encouraging remarks about the effect Duane's merciless fucking was having on his insides. At one point he gave it as his opinion that "if you whipped it out now and someone poked an egg up me I reckon it'd be boiled in no time." Graham and Tim, always an adventurous soul on the look-out for new experiences, exchanged a look. Doubtless an egg would be up someone's arse within the next night or two. Duane merely grunted. Sam said what children half his age were famous for saying. "Are you nearly there yet? This may be fun for you two, but it's not exactly thrilling for the rest of us." "Speak for yourself, Sam," said Charlie, "you've had Duane fuck you, but Patrick and I are still waiting for our turn. Watching Prince getting the treatment is getting me well and truly horny, I can tell you." Duane's grunt was, if anything, more heartfelt this time. Sam said he was sorry, but no-one had answered his question. Prince said that he was only about 15 seconds from coming, "but I've been like that for several minutes. I can keep it back, you know." This was piffle, but Duane, even if it had registered, didn't know it was piffle. Maybe black English boys knew a thing or two. I caught Prince's eye and gave a tiny nod. It was returned. "Oh ... oh ... fuck, Duane ... aaah!" and a stream of opalescent joy flew up out of Prince's cock to hit Duane four inches above his navel. The second stream hit two inches below and the two lines slowly ran down a very sweaty black 100% top into his curly pubic hair. The other four - five? - streams travelled less far and puddled in the general area where Prince's arse and Duane's cock were still at play. Ten seconds later as we all watched Prince held his breath and ... Duane's eyes shot open ... "oh fuck ... fuck ... ah, Prince ... aaaaaaah!" Duane lunged hard into Prince as the red hot pincers which lived up there grabbed his cock and agonizingly drew the entire contents of his balls up up into the soft dark jungle interior. This wasn't what Prince had done to Aaron: that had been something Aaron had loved; no, there was no way that Duane had enjoyed what Prince had done. Momentous, earth-shattering, but not - certainly not - nice. Duane fell forward onto Prince, who stroked his head. "That was fun, Duane, but you didn't last very long. And poor old Charlie's dying for it." "Don't bother, Prince," I said, "he's asleep." It was true. Half a minute earlier the red hot pincers were torturing him: now he was completely gone. Sam, Charlie, Javid and I lifted him off and Prince scooted out from underneath. We set Duane back down again. It was just after 2100. "I'll wake him at 0650," I said, "now what?" "Next door," said Tim. There wasn't any food, but the beer was still there. We all sat or lay on beds. Prince was still damp, but no-one seemed interested. "Can you really keep 15 seconds away for minutes on end?" asked Tim. "No, not without squeezing good and hard." We knew this technique, but Prince hadn't touched his cock. "I can delay it from getting near. I say a poem backwards in my head." Disbelieving laughter greeted this. "What's so funny?" I said, "I do the same, except with me it's the 17 times table. Which poem, Prince?" He grinned. "The whole thing, or just the first bit?" If he managed to keep an orgasm at bay for a long time I feared we might be in for The Lady of Shallot, or something. "Just give us a taste." "Love my be and me with live then, will that do?" Applause broke out. "Where did you learn that?" asked Graham, "I've never heard you say poetry before." "Ah, little one," said Prince, putting his arm round his boyfriend and drawing him into the dampness, "that's because I never want to delay coming when it's with you." Soft cries of 'aaah!' greeted this. "I did a lot of poetry at school, and I love it." A new window opens every day, I thought, and I wondered what kind of secrets I still hadn't discovered about Charlie. Only one way to find out. "Charlie, you and I have talked endlessly about what we like. I know your favourite books, but what about poetry? Can you spout stuff like Prince? I don't mean backwards." "Och yes. They have schools where I come from too, and nowadays they speak English as well. And you, my friend," he said, pointing to my cock, tucked up nicely for a rest, "are a wee sleekit cowerin' timorous beastie. Except it's not, of course," and he bent to kiss it and, on the way back up, me. "Burns," he explained, "our national bard. It was a mouse he was on about. And your cock's a fine splendid thing, by the way." I found it necessary, not for the first time, to remind Charlie that I loved him. More applause and cries of 'aaah!' It turned out that all eight of us had been exposed to poetry before school had finished with us, but only Prince had developed a love for, and a wide knowledge of, something seemingly lacking nowadays. Years later Charlie and I tackled one of our boys on the subject of poetry, but none of the names meant anything to him. Keats, it was suggested, might have played for West Ham, or had it been Spurs? The beer was all gone. We decided to call it a day. "Before we pack it in," I said, "I'm sorry tonight was a flop. When you get the come-on look in the canteen you can't sit the bugger down and find out whether he's the kind of guy we're looking to have fun with. I sucked Duane off and he said he wanted more. Are we agreed he's not invited back?" Seven nods. "And Aaron is?" Seven nods. "Well, let's hope Louis is a bit more into what we like. Fingers crossed." "Don't feel bad, Patrick," said Javid, "no-one gets it 100% right. Without your inventiveness we wouldn't have anyone to fuck us. Go find us some more!" But not until we've had Aaron back," said Nigel, "and if Louis is any good maybe you get the two of them in in two nights' time." Nods all round. There was little danger of anyone's arse healing up. ***** At 0650 I gave Duane's shoulder a shake. "Wake up," I whispered, "you need to shift. Go next door and shower - you still stink of Prince's jizz." Duane, awake by now and refreshed, smiled as he remembered the manner of its getting there. "That was weird." "You went out like a light immediately after you came. When you've showered I'll take you back up to where you can mingle with the other guys coming aboard." By 0720 he was gone. In just under eight hours I would be conducting Louis down for a fun evening. When we met in cabin 1 just before 1500 for showers and greasing Graham told us that there had been a big thing going on in the War. We tended to forget that, tied up in New York, things like newspapers could routinely be brought on board. We'd never bothered with newspapers as boys, and thus our only real source of news was what Graham found out in the wireless room. "France has bloody gone and given in," he said angrily. "What do you mean?" asked Prince. "The Germans have invaded and they surrendered." "Why couldn't they fucking fight?" I said. "No idea. But a whole load our our soldiers are trapped, and they expect to be wiped out." Much anti-French sentiment was expressed, but since our information was limited, our understanding of global politics non-existent, and the imminence of a far more interesting event was real the matter of the further conduct of the War ceased to concern us. Over the next weeks Graham's bulletins became eagerly sought, and by the time Dunkirk had been safely evacuated and Churchill installed we were as well informed as boys our age were at home. I went to collect our guest. I was in the toilet a few minutes before Louis appeared - I was worried that he might have got cold feet. He came in quickly, shutting the door behind him. "What's the hurry?" I said, "we've got all night." "I've been hard all day, and I can't wait any longer." I explained that there were seven more of us waiting below, and that if he could keep his cock in his trousers for another few minutes it would be worth the effort. "I like the sound of that, Patrick." "Come on then," and I gave his cock a quick squeeze. He hadn't been lying - it was as hard as hell. "Do you know any of the other carpenters?" I didn't want to find that he was a pal of Duane's. "I know a couple," he said, "Red and Paulie. They work with me. I don't know any of the others. We say `hi' in the canteen, but I don't know their names - why?" I decided that honesty would be wise. "You're the third guy we've invited to join us. The first was great and we'll certainly invite him back. Last night's was a real pain. All he wanted was to fuck us, but part of the fun we want is to fuck as well. Are you up for that?" Louis laughed. "If I'm not I don't get asked back, so I reckon I ought to allow you guys to get up my ass if that's what they want." "And you're OK with that?" "Of course I am, Patrick. Now can we get on with it?" Down below the welcoming committee was, as always, naked. While I had been collecting Louis Charlie and two of the others had borne food and beer down as usual. I introduced the seven of them, telling Louis which of them were couples. He was surprised. "Aren't you guys young to have paired up?" Charlie said that he and I had known each other for nearly three years, and that we'd found we were boyfriends very soon after we joined Queen Mary. "It was the same with us," said Sam, and the other pairs agreed. "If you're spending damn nearly24 hours a day with someone it doesn't take long to discover you love him," I said, "especially when you spend most of the off-duty time fucking." Louis grinned. "And that's why I'm here, to add a bit of variety." "Too right, Louis," said Tim, "my brother hasn't stopped describing how he and you had a happy few minutes the other day. We want to have that experience as well. Has he worked out what you want to do yet?" Louis laughed (we would discover that Louis laughed a lot - it was infectious), "no, but he told me that if I didn't let you guys fuck me I wouldn't get asked back. All I know is that Patrick gives a great blow job, and when he told me about tonight all he said was that there were more of you. I like it both ways, and from the looks on your faces that's how you like it. Why don't I fuck one of you soon - as I told Patrick I've been hard all day - then we play it by ear. One of you can fuck me. I reckon I could get it up three times as you're all sexy guys. Maybe four, who knows. Tim murmured that this would be a vast improvement on the night before. "Get your clothes off, Louis, and let's see the goods." Javid and Nigel stood up. "We fancy a threesome," said Javid, "are you up for that? You choose which one of us you want to fuck and the other one will spit roast him with you." Louis looked doubtful. "What's that?" "Oh, brother, you're in for a real treat, Louis," said Nigel, "we'll show you. Do you want to fuck me, or Javid?" "Both of you, but let me fuck you first, Nigel." Nigel knelt and put his head on his arms. Louis stood behind him and stroked his arse. Nigel reached behind and pulled his cheeks apart. Louis ran a finger along Nigel's crack and when he felt the grease he laughed again. "You sure keep a welcome in there, kid." "All the way," said Nigel, "so I'm ready when you are." We all waited. This mattered. When Louis touched his cut cock head to Nigel's arse ring and slowly ran it round the lips there was a collective sigh of relief. It was going to be OK. Nigel wriggled. Louis got the message and the first couple of inches disappeared. Nigel wriggled some more. "That's so hot, Louis." When he saw that things were going to be all right at that end Javid stood at the other side of the bed. "Nigel's going to suck my cock, Louis, and when he's being fucked by you at one end and by me at the other we call it spit-roasting." "Never heard of it before, but it sounds mighty good to me." Javid moved closer. Nigel smiled happily, opened his mouth, and closed it round the wet head of his lover's cock. Javid moved closer still. They had this down to a fine art. Javid wouldn't try to fuck Nigel's mouth, but would let him do all the work. Louis had watched this, slowly penetrating further as Javid's cock disappeared. He reached round to feel Nigel's cock. "D'you want me to jerk you off?" Javid answered for him. "No, he'll probably come just by you fucking him, but if not I'll give you a nod." Louis nodded, "let's play ball then," =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 115 as we continue to entertain Louis. 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. ===============================================================================