Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2019 13:29:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com>
Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 136

Queen Mary Bell-boys by badboi666

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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

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Chapter 136

I went into cabin 3 where Tim, Sam, Javid and Graham were sitting with a
beer in their hands.  "Look what I found," I said, as Jakey stood nervously
in the doorway.  Tim leaped up.  "Jakey, it can't be!"  Jakey grinned.
"Yeah, sorry guys.  I've come to disrupt your dull lives."  A beer was
placed in his hand.  Everybody was speaking at once.  "Quiet!" I called,
"let the poor bastard at least get his first drink down him."  Jakey sat on
the bed between Javid and Tim, quietly drinking his beer and milking the
situation for all it was worth.  He knew - we all knew - that there would
be a great telling of stories, repeated and embellished when Charlie, Nigel
and Prince came down an hour or two later.  He knew - I knew - that much
more than telling stories would happen that night.  He finished his beer.
"God, I needed that.  Is there more?"  Tim placed a second in his hand and
said, "OK, Jakey, we've been very patient.  You've had all of 90 seconds to
get the first down you.  Now tell us what you've been up to since we last
saw you."

Since you are as anxious to hear about the really interesting part of that
evening's goings-on, as anxious as Jakey and I were to get to that stage as
well (the others remained hopeful, but not yet confident), I will not dwell
as lovingly on what befell the five Kingstonites as Jakey did that evening.
Jakey was doing a great job keeping us all on tenterhooks, but as I've
often had cause to observe in my early professional career, a pleasure
delayed is a pleasure enhanced.

Cy, Abe and Harry had gone to Albany a few weeks after we'd left them in
February 1942 when their papers arrived.  Remembering the advice that Ryan
had given them to let the recruiting officers know that they were
homosexual they discussed on the way whether they wanted to risk it.  Cy
and Abe were against it, largely, Jakey had supposed, because they were a
couple, whereas Harry wasn't involved with anyone else.  In the end Harry
said that he trusted Ryan's advice and he was going to be honest.  Whether
it was because he admitted being queer or not, Harry was posted to an air
force base in Oklahoma and never came within 5,000 miles of enemy action.

Cy and Abe kept schtumm, Jakey said, and inevitably they were split up.
Both went to the Pacific in late 1942 after basic training.  Cy was a
mechanical engineer, maintaining vehicles of all types, never in the front
line of fighting but never far enough away to feel safe either.  Abe was an
ordinary rifleman, seeing action in some of the bloodiest fighting, but -
miraculously - emerging unscathed until he broke his leg tripping over a
loose paving slab in camp while he was on combat leave in Australia.  As
he'd been serving for over two years by then Uncle Sam decided he'd done
his bit, and when his leg was healed they flew him home "The jammy
bastard'll get a Purple Heart though," said Jakey, and then had to explain
what that meant.  Cy was still out there somewhere, but as Japan had
surrendered only three weeks before no-one had any idea when he'd be home.

"How do you know all this?" asked Charlie.  "You'd be surprised how much we
know," said Jakey.  "I was in the communications section, and once we'd
licked the Germans we spent all the time chasing up our pals in other
countries.  I didn't speak to Cy, but I had a message from him only two
days before we sailed.  Clever, eh?"  "What about E?" said Tim, "you
haven't mentioned him.  Is he on the ship?"  "No, I told Patrick.  He's in
Germany still, but he's fine.  No bullet wounds, nothing.  Nor me," he
added hastily, "plenty of narrow escapes, but nothing got me."  He stopped
suddenly ... the silence grew.  None of us wanted to break it - something
was troubling him.  "My buddy was killed right next to me.  On my birthday.
One minute we were advancing across a field - a dozen of us - to a village
we were told had been cleared when - bang! - Chip falls down dead three
feet from me.  A fucking sniper.  We got the bastard though - he was only
about 17."  The silence deepened.  Tim put his arm round Jakey and pulled
him close.  "Was Chip special?" he whispered.  Jakey nodded, unable to
speak.  Then, as the tears started to run down his cheeks he said, very
quietly, "very special."

The nightmare we'd all dreaded was there in the cabin with us - the loss of
a lover.  Tim held Jakey tightly while he sobbed quietly.  Nobody moved: we
all could guess what the poor boy was feeling.  Tim stroked his hair
gently.  After several minutes Jakey looked up, his face wet, his eyes red.
"Thanks.  Thanks for not trying to say anything dumb like 'it'll be all
right'.  That's what the guys in the unit said.  It won't be all right -
ever.  Chip's dead.  We lost a lot of guys, friends, most of them, but -
well, Chip was -" He faltered.  Charlie, good solid reliable Charlie, said,
"Chip was the man you loved, Jakey.  Nothing can change that, and you
should be glad that he never had to feel the loss you're having to live
with."  Jakey nodded.  "Yeah, that's a comfort, I suppose."

It took a while for Jakey to feel able to go on.  A third beer helped, as
it reminded him of where he was, and who he was with.  Safe, going home.
Chip had been killed in December, two days before Christmas.  They had
buried him on Christmas Day in the village graveyard only a few yards from
where they had buried the 17-year-old who had killed him.  The corporal was
all for leaving the boy for the animals, but the Lieutenant had put a stop
to that.  "He has a mother in Germany and he was only doing what we're
doing.  We bury him and we get the padre to do it properly.  Seems only
right to bury him alongside Chip - two more young lives wasted in this
fucking war."  Jakey had stood at the head of Chip's coffin as the padre
said the few words, part of a ritual unknown to him in Kingston but which
had become wearyingly familiar as they advanced through Belgium and
Germany.  The padre had noticed that Jakey was the only GI with tears in
his eyes, so after Chip's cheap makeshift village coffin was lowered he'd
put his arm round Jakey.  "I know, son," he'd said, "it feels like the end
of the world.  Will you do something for me?"  Jakey had nodded.  "Take the
head of the German boy's coffin.  You'll be glad you did in years to come."
Jakey had looked up at the padre through his tears and saw a smile.  "I
know, kid, I know. Trust me," and Jakey had nodded and done as the padre
had asked.  "And, you know," he said to us in the stillness of Cabin 3,
"I'm so fucking glad he made me do it.  I couldn't spend the rest of my
life being bitter - there was a war going on - and one day, if I made it
through, I knew I was going to have to pick up the pieces for the next
60-odd years and get through them without Chip.  So I forgave him -
Gunther, his name was.  He was still a bastard though."

We were still, stunned into silence.  Javid put his arm round Jakey.  "I
think that's the most moving thing I've ever heard," he said.  Jakey gave a
little smile.  "Do you guys know, you're the first ones I've told.  It's
not the sort of thing you tell the other doughboys."  I went over and knelt
in front of him.  "Jakey, ever since you were a feisty sexy little
13-year-old I've thought you were pretty special.  It's good that you can
cry with us - we cry with each other a lot, and - well -" "- it makes us
closer," finished Tim, "and that's what matters.  Now you're here, Jakey,
you're with guys who know you.  There's no secrets here: why not stay down
here.  Grieve for Chip."  Jakey sniffed and nodded.  "Yeah.  I'd like that.
What about you lot - what happened to the others?"

I told him about Alan and Andrew, and that called for another beer.  We
hadn't heard anything about George and Vincent, of course.  After another
silence during which Jakey sat turning his beer bottle round and round he
suddenly sat up.  "OK.  They're dead, and we've wept over them.  But
there's nine of us here who aren't dead."  He paused, unsure of how welcome
his next suggestion would be.  "Patrick, you brought me down here.  It's
great to see you all again."  He paused again. "Can I ask a favor?"  "Don't
be daft, Jakey, of course you can," I said, "spit it out."  "Will you hold
me and make love to me?"  "I thought you'd never ask," I said, hoping
desperately that facetiousness would lighten the atmosphere, "but there's
only one problem.  There's eight of us, and if you let me fuck you you'll
make them all jealous.  Can you manage all eight of us - not tonight, of
course, but you might as well live down here and enjoy yourself, mightn't
you?"  Jakey grinned.  "I think that sounds like a good idea, Patrick."
His eyes were bright, and not with tears.

"Come on, then," I said, and when I started to strip the others did the
same.  It took Jakey a few seconds to copy us.  "I'd forgotten how you guys
spent so much time in the buff," he said and, looking around, "you all
shave, I see."  As befitted a Jewish boy in the army Jakey's cock rose from
a dense patch of jet black hair.  "I've got another favor," he murmured.
"I can guess," said Tim, "does it involve shaving?"  Jakey grinned, "you
bet - who does it?"  "We all do each other," said Nigel.

After we'd all pissed - chastely, and without help from anyone else - I led
Jakey to bed.  He and Charlie and I all warm and close.  He was in the
middle and for some minutes the three of us just lay there while I could
feel the tension in his body begin to drain away.  In the other bed Sam and
Tim were asleep already.  Jakey looked over.  "Is this how how live, the
eight of you?"  Charlie turned to him.  "Yes, ever since we found each
other.  We're like four married couples, and sleeping apart seems
unnatural.  With different watches it can be a bugger, but tonight - well,
tonight's special, Jakey.  You're here, and Patrick's going to make love to
you."  "Don't you mind, Charlie?"  "No, of course not.  We agreed long ago,
when we were whores, as Patrick likes to call us, that fucking around was
fine - it was the job, after all - and we're all completely open about it.
It's secrets that destroy relationships, not sex.  Now get on with it,
because there's a queue, don't forget."

I took Jakey's face in my hands and kissed him on the lips.  His lips
parted; his tongue sought mine; tongue greeted tongue like old friends; my
hands roved as they had done over the body of a 13-year-old and again over
the same 18-year-old, and now a man of 22.  His body had changed, but his
keenness to explore what his body and mine could do together was as
immediately evident as it had been back in the barn in Kingston.  I scooted
down the bed and hoisted his legs over my shoulders.  As my tongue began to
travel along his perineum he shuddered.  "Oh Christ, Patrick, I've missed
that."

I felt Charlie move, and then Jakey turned slightly, and when I raised my
head to see what was happening I saw that Charlie had his arms round him
and their lips were locked together.  From the look of it Jakey had missed
that as well.  Poor Jakey, and poor Chip: it can't have been easy to find
somewhere where they could kiss or fuck on active service in the middle of
a war.  I went back to what I did best - there was no reason not to fire
Jakey up at both ends.  I reached for the lube (never far away) and got my
fingers ready to get inside.  The first time I'd fucked Jakey, way back in
1936, was his first fuck.  I'd fucked him a couple of times since then, but
this one had to be special, so I wanted to take a long time.  Healing isn't
effective if it takes place too quickly.  I couldn't take Chip's place, nor
did I want to, but I could let him know that Chip's place was vacant, and
that if life was kind to Jakey it would get filled one day.  Charlie was
providing tenderness; I would provide lust.

Two fingers went in easily and the stifled moan together with the thrust of
his hips told me that Jakey was welcoming me.  I separated them as far as I
could, stretching the inside of his arse, rubbing the walls, eliciting more
moaning.  The magic third finger went in and I began to massage his
prostate - round and round with my middle finger-tip while the other two
fingers kept up the stretching.  I guess the opportunities for orgasm
weren't as great for the GIs on Queen Mary as they were for us - so I
thought it unlikely that Jakey would last long.  I didn't plan to stop
though if he came quickly.  I moved my fingers and massaged either side of
his prostate with the other two fingers.  I held his balls, rolling them
gently.  A groan from the other end.  "Ah fuck, Patrick, I've jizzed
everywhere."  I felt Charlie move - I was still in place with three fingers
well inside, but they were still while he came.  "Not everywhere, Jakey,
all over your belly, yes, but that's easy to deal with," and he moved down
with his head near mine.  "You or me?" he said.  "I'm busy right now," I
said, "so that lot's yours."  Jakey moaned happily while Charlie licked his
belly and chest.  I hadn't known that Jakey had shot as far as his nipples,
but I expect Charlie was just being thorough.  Charlie went back to his
investigation of Jakey's tonsils.  I heard a murmured exchange.  "Like
that?"  "Oh fuck yes, Charlie.  "Like what he's doing down there?"  "Mmm."

Down there I took this as an indication that Jakey would like it if I were
to continue.  Fingers out though - his prostate needed to lie down for a
while.  Lip time.  I started a long slow rimming from the very end of his
arse crack past - quickly past the first several times - his arsehole, all
the way millimetre by millimetre to his balls.  His very hairy balls.  I
vowed that the next time I - or anyone else - did this the undergrowth
would have been cleared, but because this was what Father Corrigan would
have called an Act of Mercy I was prepared to wade through jungle.  Lurking
in the jungle were two balls, soft warm balls full of the next jizzing I
was planning to force them to produce.  I took one into my mouth and rolled
my tongue over it (moans), then the other (more moans).  My tongue went
back to the trail through the jungle, missing his arsehole again (aah!).  I
repeated this several times while Charlie remained on active duty.

The next time my tongue stopped when it got to his arse lips.  "Push," I
murmured, and they parted slightly, allowing my tongue to get a little way
inside.  I've never been able to get my tongue more than half an inch or so
inside, but even half an inch got Jakey squirming.  "Oh God, don't ever
stop."  Five minutes of this, I thought, and you'll be screaming for me to
fuck you.  I was wrong.  I kept up the tongue action along his perineum and
in his arse for a good quarter of an hour, and all the while his lips and
Charlie's remained locked while their tongues danced, hermetically sealed
in two mouths.  I moved a few inches forward and licked the underside of
his cock (moan).  My tongue did to his cock what Charlie's tongue was doing
to his tongue.  "Oh Patrick, please, I need you to fuck me, please."  His
need was great and I'd delayed long enough.  I lubed my cock and teased his
arse lips with the tip.  "Here goes, Jakey, welcome aboard Queen Mary," and
I slowly pushed all the way in.  "Aaah! Jeez, I need this so much."

Once in I stayed still for a few seconds letting him feel stretched.  Maybe
Chip was bigger than me, but Chip was several months ago and no-one had
been up there since.  I hoisted his hips and started to fuck him, not hard
but rhythmically, pulling almost all the way out fast and going all the way
back in slowly, pausing then coming out again.  I wasn't going to last long
myself, as the long build-up I'd been giving Jakey had made me a lot
hornier than I'd expected.  Maybe my brain was pretending he was still 13.
"I'm near," I muttered.  "Fill me up then, drown me."  Three big pushes and
my cock erupted, six big shots coating Jakey's arse with spunk.  I saw
Charlie break off and smile.  Jakey's hand reached for his cock and began
the very short journey to the second coming.  I stayed in to watch, and
after only a dozen rapid strokes I felt his arse tighten on my softening
cock and saw a good spurt of spunk fly onto his belly.  I whipped my cock
out - Charlie got out of the way quickly (God! how our minds had learned to
read one another's thoughts) and I knelt over Jakey to clean his cock.  The
invitation my arse presented in front of his mouth to get some attention
did not go unanswered.  His tongue made the unjungly journey along my
perineum while I took on board his second load.

When we'd both finished I laid beside him, Charlie on the other side, and
looked into his eyes.  Words were unnecessary.  It was Jakey who broke the
silence several minutes later.  "Can I really stay down here with you
guys?"  "Of course you can, Jakey, you're special - didn't I tell you?" I
said.  "Well, can I ask a favor?  Will you shave me tomorrow, before
whoever's next gets to play?  It must be a lot sexier when your tongues go
exploring if I can feel it on my skin."  "I promise you'll get shaved, but
it might not be by me.  Now if we're not going to wet the bed the three of
us should go to the shower before we turn in.  Tomorrow if you're very good
we might have beer-related fun in there, but not tonight."  "Mmm," said
Jakey, "sounds right up my street."

When I woke at 0630 Jakey was still out of it.  It was bloody hot - it
always was, long before air conditioning - and we'd kicked the bedcovers
off during the night.  Last night I'd been too busy rimming him and fucking
him to look at his body.  As a 13-year-old he'd been smooth and skinny: now
that nine years had passed he was a gorgeous young man - fit, tanned, not
an ounce of surplus flesh on him.  His face was completely relaxed,
whatever grief Chip's death had burned him with was, at least at that
moment, missing.  I wanted so much to make it all better, but the feeling
passed: the kindest thing I could do was nothing - not bend over him to
kiss him, not bend over him to suck his half-hard cock, just get quietly
out of bed and let the few days of the voyage do their healing bit as best
they could.  Charlie wasn't on watch until 1000 so with luck they'd both
sleep an hour or two longer, and if they woke and found themselves feeling
energetic - well, good luck to them both.

It was only when I got up to the galley that it dawned on me that I hadn't
worked out with Jakey how he'd eat, or what he'd do during the day.  As far
as I was concerned he could stay in the cabin and do what he liked until we
reached New York, but he might want some air, and more food that we had in
cabin 3.  Damn.  I found Ryan and told him I had to go back down for 10
minutes - did he mind?  "No, but from the look on your face it's not just a
shit you need."  I grinned. "You're right, and I promise to tell you when I
get back. I think you'll like what's down there," and before he could catch
me to ask what exactly 'down there' meant I was gone.

I'd only been away from the cabin for 20 minutes, but in that time one of
them had woken up and been less reticent about disturbing the other's
beauty sleep than I had been - perhaps it was Jakey who woke and found the
specimen of manhood asleep next to him irresistible.  After all, it was how
I felt in the morning.  Anyway, when I breezed in they were both wide
awake, Jakey on his back and Charlie preparing to fuck him.  "Hold it
there, my friends," I cried dramatically.  They weren't too pleased, but
they'd get over it.  I explained the problem.  "If you want to eat, Jakey,
you'll need to queue like the rest of them.  What we can't have is you
coming up from here or coming down again without one of us.  It's too
risky.  Sort out with Charlie what you want to do, and when he's done that
sort out where you want to eat.  I'll be doling out dessert as usual until
I'm off duty at 1900," and I patted Charlie's arse and left them to it.

When I got back I found Ryan.  "Got a minute?"  "Even if I hadn't I'd find
one - what are you up to, Patrick?"  For once I didn't want to be dramatic.
"Jakey's on board, and right now Charlie is fucking him.  I spent the night
with him, and he's planning to stay with us until New York."  "Isn't that
risky?"  "Yes, but do you seriously think that any of us cares?  Jakey's 22
and seen some horrors, and hot sexy nights with guys he knows are just what
he needs before he hits Kingston and the rest of his life.  We're just part
of his war experiences, but if we've got anything to do with it, we're
going to be the part he remembers with a smile, not a tear."  Ryan didn't
say anything, so I went on.  "Want to join us?"  "Would he like it?"  "How
the hell should I know?  You fucked him before and I don't remember him
complaining, and now I have work to do," and with a wink I went to be
useful while Ryan's libido woke up to the possibilities Jakey's presence
were opening up.

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The fun continues in Chapter 137 as Jakey's visit continues.  The
photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real.  I saw them while making a
transatlantic crossing in 2017, and the boy I describe as "me" is really
cute.  I'm sure he had adventures ...

I will be reacquainting myself with these pictures in Queen Mary 2 when I
make another pair of Atlantic crossings in April.  There will be a
three-week pause in the wartime adventures of our eight friends - or
perhaps their post-war escapades: who knows how quickly the story will
develop.

Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped
nifty a few quid.
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