Date: Thu, 25 Jan 2018 08:45:03 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys 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 14 I had Charlie's cock in my mouth and my tongue was giving his cockhead the most erotic sensations I could. He had come only a few minutes earlier, but the sight of Tim and Alan 69ing had got him hard again almost immediately. By my reckoning he had now had three orgasms in his life, so the intense feelings his body had had in the last 48 hours were irresistible - quite simply Charlie wanted more, a lot more, of the same. His mouth was only an inch or so from my cockhead. Very cautiously he put his tongue out and licked the tip of my cock. I knew I was leaking precum, so he must have got a taste. His tongue came out again, this time licking around the head of my cock. My foreskin was retracted, so I could feel everything he was doing. I took more of his cock into my mouth, hoping that he would take the hint. "Oh Patrick," he murmured, "this is so good." "Go on then," I murmured, taking his cock briefly out of my mouth, "do me as well. Mind your teeth though." I got most of his cock in my mouth - I wasn't able to deep throat in those days - but I got enough of Charlie in to give him the courage to suck my cock. In a moment my sinful Catholic cock was being caressed inside the Calvinist mouth of my new sinful friend. No sooner had he got it in than he sent mad, sucking with all the abandon of a newly-born calf. "Steady on," I said, "you'll suck my balls out if you go at it that hard." A great spluttering occurred, and I learned a valuable lesson: never make a joke when someone has your cock in his mouth. But laughter breaks all the barriers, and when he'd calmed down Charlie returned to 69ing me more gently. "Do what I do," I said, and proceeded to lick, and swirl my tongue round, and do all the things I'd perfected in several years of sucking Father Corrigan off. As well as teaching us about matters of faith, he taught us well in matters of the flesh. Since I was better at it that Charlie, and even though he'd come not that long ago, I got him to the boil first. He started to twitch, so I just sucked and licked harder. One of the nice things about someone like Charlie, whose introduction to the pleasures of orgasm came so late in his life, is that had never suffered from the need to advise anyone that he was about to come. A lot of guys tell you they're about to come in your mouth when you know damn well they're nearly there, and you are very enthusiastic that they come exactly where they are. Who needs to be warned? So Charlie just allowed himself to move urgently towards a second release. "Aaah!" and one ... two ... three spurts of Highland spunk hit the back of my mouth. This cum was saltier than the last one, but just as welcome. The other good thing about being sucked by a beginner is that they don't know that they're allowed to stop sucking you when they come. So, after a 30-second pause while he got his breath back, Charlie went on sucking me. I concentrated hard on bringing myself to the finishing line. His technique wasn't all that good, but a boy's mouth on your cock, even if it isn't terribly skilled, is a mouth on your cock, and after a couple of minutes I felt the surge beginning. As he hadn't known about warning me I didn't feel that he was expecting a warning from me, so ... "Aaah! Charlie, here is it," I cried as I felt the first rope flying up my cock and into the welcoming warmth of his mouth. "Mmmph!" was the only sound he made - he stopped breathing - while I pulsed four or five more good-sized squirts. Since he didn't know you didn't have to swallow, he just did the natural thing - and swallowed. I pulled back, scooted round and took the plunge. My lips met his. He opened his eyes in surprise, he saw my eyes looking at him, he felt my tongue on his closed lips, he opened his lips, he touched my tongue with his, he opened his soul to the first kiss of his life. If Charlie had died at that moment he would have died the happiest boy in the world. While all this was happening the other two had each come, and we had an audience for the last minute or two. When we broke and looked in each other's eyes there was muted clapping from Tim and Alan. "That was good to see," said Alan. "Yes," said Tim, "we're glad you're here with us, Charlie, you fit in nicely." Charlie smiled. "I'm just so glad I met Patrick, and glad that you three are ... I don't know ... just ... my friends." As before, Charlie was very near tears. "Come on then, we need to build up our strength," I said. "We have the whole night before us." And I got the tray from the shelf. When we took the cloth off Ryan had done us proud. There was a chicken leg for each of us, a fancy dessert whose name none of us knew, but it was very tasty, some raisins and - best of all - four bottles of beer. He'd even put in a bottle opener. For all our precociousness in the sex department, Tim and I had never had any alcohol, so we approached the beer rather as Charlie had approached wanking two nights ago. And as he had taken to wanking once he'd started, we took to Ryan's beer. Alan had drunk beer once or twice and Charlie, needless to say, had had it drummed into him that alcohol was the urine of the Devil, or some such shit. By the time the food had all gone and the bottles finished we were a merry party, advising each other to 'sssh!' every few seconds. It was now about 2230. As we all had an early start it was time to think about bed. Alan and Tim tactfully took themselves off to wash and piss. While they were away I sat on the bed with Charlie and took his hand. "I really enjoyed that," I said, "do you want to stay here tonight? I'd like it if you did." Looking back on it from now, over 80 years later, I know that this was a key moment in my life, but of course I didn't know that then. "Can I?" he said. "Of course. Who will care?" "What about Andrew and Chris?" "Well, Andrew has spent an hour in here with us, so he won't mind even if he guesses where you might be. Chris will just assume that you're doing what he does, or says he does." "What's that?" "Oh, he says he's been fucking one of the women passengers." This gave Charlie pause for thought. It hadn't occurred to him that sex between crew - us - and passengers was a possibility. "Yes," he said, "I'd like to stay." "Good. Then let's go and wash and piss, and when we come back ... well, we'll see, won't we?" Ten minutes later we were all comfortably in bed. Alan and Tim in Alan's and Charlie and me in mine. The beds were far too small for two in comfort, but when you're a pair of horny teenagers likely to spend at least the first part of the night fairly intimately twined together, comfort isn't really all that important. I don't know how many orgasms there were in the other ned, but there were two more in ours. Each. When Sir knocked the following morning he woke four exhausted boys. Exhausted, but happy. Tim and Alan hadn't slept together before, and had only done so last night to make it easier for Charlie. I reckoned that their sleeping together might become a permanent feature. We'd have to move the beds though. Charlie went back to Cabin 4 after showering. I wondered how he would deal with the inevitable questions. I said to Tim, "thanks for bunking up with Andrew. It was quite a night." "Too right," he said, and paused. "Spit it out, Tim." "Do you mind if Alan sleeps in my bed?" "Of course not. Why would I mind?" "I don't know ... you might be jealous." "Don't be daft. I love you, and you're the most important person in the world. But you're my brother, so why would I be jealous? If you want to sleep with Alan, that's fine. What does he feel?" "Oh, he's very happy with what we did last night." "Good, then that's settled." I was glad he didn't ask about Charlie, because I wouldn't have been able to give him a sensible answer. My head was having to deal with big, and unexpected, issues. Our 0700 meeting was brief. It was the last day of the voyage, and tomorrow morning we would reach New York. Suddenly there was a new feeling of excitement. Sir told us that from 1500 all twelve of us would be on elevator duty as luggage would begin to be taken down for disembarkation. "I want you all here at 1700," he said, "to hear about the arrangements for tomorrow. You've done a fine job on the voyage. Let's make sure the passengers enjoy their last day. Now off you go." I was thoughtful at breakfast. My mind was racing over what I still had to do, and what we'd already achieved. Tonight we'd maybe find out about Sam, Roger and Peter. I knew they wanked every night, or so Roger had said, but I had no idea yet how they would react to a joint session with other boys, never mind with men. Chris was a write-off as far as sex with us was concerned; Dave had put wanking behind him; Andrew was up for boy-on-boy sex. That left Harry and Stewart. We would have to make an effort to find out more about those two today, or if not today then on the voyage back to Southampton. Charlie - ah! Charlie. The big unexpected issues were still buzzing in my head this morning, and probably would stay buzzing for ages. I became aware that Tim was talking to me. "Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?" "I said I caught sight of Stewart in the showers. It's the first time I've been there when he's been there. Unfortunately I was so out of it after last night that I couldn't manage even the tiniest bit of a stiffy, so I got no further with finding out about him. It was a nice cock though." "Aren't they all?" "Yes, I suppose so. Are you OK?" "Yes, I'm just worn out, like you." "You like him, don't you?" I paused. "Yes," I said quietly. I pulled myself together. I had a busy day in front of me. Tim and I went to Sir at 0915. He asked about Alan and I said he had been very upset when he came back, but that he seemed more cheerful this morning. "Those bastards need teaching a lesson," I said bitterly. "I agree, Patrick, but what can I do?" A mad idea had come to me. "You must do nothing, and be completely taken by surprise if you hear anything about them," I said. "What are you up to then?" "My lips are sealed," I said with an expression which implied that no further questioning on this subject should take place. "No client for you today, Patrick. Tim, you're to go to 412 at 1200 for an hour. No special instructions. I won't be able to say this when you all come later for instruction about tomorrow, so I'll say it now. I'm very pleased with the way things have gone so far, apart from Alan's experience yesterday. I expect you'll have picked up a few dollars as well. We will be busy in port tomorrow, but I will be here between 1100 and 1200 - there should be no passengers on board then. Come for a talk, and bring Alan." I knew that today I wasn't going to be doing much elevator duty - I had what were for me far more important things to see to. I didn't imagine Sir would mind too much either. First on the agenda was a visit to Gus. At this time of day he would be making beds, but on which Deck? I racked my brains to recall where I'd been when I bumped into him while I was exploring. I knew he'd been in the First Class area, so I went up there and asked the first Steward I saw where Gus was. "Deck 7, forward, port side." It didn't take long to find Gus, but getting him to agree was going to be tricky. "Hello Gus," I said, "I've been meaning to see you to fix up some wickedness, but I've been so fucking busy." "Busy fucking, I hope," he said with a grin. "Well, a little. Listen, I promise I'll let you have your wicked way with me on the voyage back, but I need a big favour." "And what might that be?" he asked. "It's a complicated story, and you must promise not to breathe a word to anyone, OK?" "If you say so. The reward I get will have to be pretty good though." "Oh, it will be, Gus, I promise," and as we were in a stateroom with the door closed I gave his cock a nice friendly squeeze. "You'll have that up my arse, I promise." "OK. What do you want, Patrick?" A lie would have to do. "I was with a couple of guys in their stateroom yesterday - up to no good, I'm afraid, but I do a lot of that - and I left something really important in there. I need to get in to get it back when they're at lunch. It's 733." "Not one of mine, but I can get you in. How long will you need?" "I'm not sure - they may have moved it, or even hidden it. Can you let me in and them bugger off. The door will lock when I leave, won't it?" "Yes, but my arse will be on the line if you get caught." "But I won't get caught, and if anyone sees me I'll just say I have a message. And remember my arse will be yours in a few days time. And then I'll tell you exactly what all this is about" Gus agreed that I would come to him when I saw the two bastards sitting down to lunch. I found Alan and told him what I planned. He was thrilled and immediately agreed to join me. "Tim'll be tied up then, so it'll just be the two of us," I reminded him. It was now 1015, so I could spend an hour in my elevator hatching my plan for 733. I got a lot of smiles from passengers of both sexes, and to my surprise several gave me a tip as thanks for a week's conveying them up and down. If Tim was getting much the same we'd have a great deal more than £100 by Christmas. They started serving lunch at 1230, but I thought it likely that my targets would have a drink before eating, so I looked into all the bars. It's amazing how invisible you are if you're in uniform. No-one gave me a second glance. At 1220 I made a second tour and found them. There was only one door to this bar, and I was able to keep an eye on them. At 1235 they got up and strolled to the Dining Room. Ten minutes later I walked through, apparently scanning the tables looking for the passenger for whom my imaginary message was intended. They were just beginning their first course. I had plenty of time. I found Alan and together we found Gus. "You have an accomplice then," he said, "it must be well hidden if it needs two of you." "We have a deal, Gus, I promise. We'll be out of there before you know it. There are three more things you have to do. First, go away; second, you know nothing about this, whatever may happen, however awful. OK?" "Yes. Third?" "You fuck me something rotten on the way home." Alan was startled, but said nothing. "OK." Gus led us to 733, made sure no-one could see, and opened the door. "Thanks, Gus," I said, and we were inside. "What exactly are we doing here?" said Alan. "I'm looking for their passports," I said, "they're bound to be in a drawer as somewhere safe. Don't touch anything unless you can put it back exactly where it was. You take that side and I'll take this." When I first decided that revenge was required I had no real idea how best to achieve it. Going in and messing their cabin would have been childish, and would have raised an immediate alarm. Gus couldn't have avoided being involved. It was only this morning while I was going up and down in my elevator that the idea of stealing their passports came to me. With any luck they wouldn't discover they were missing until this evening. They would then spend an increasingly panicky hour searching the entire cabin and, with luck, blaming each other. It would never cross their mind that they had been stolen. At the very least their arrival at New York would be massively delayed. The thought cheered me greatly. "Any luck?" said Alan after a few minutes. "Not yet," I said, and went on carefully looking through drawers. I decided to look in their small cases. "Wow!" I said, "look at this." The case contained the implements of torture - three whips and assorted belts and leather harness. "That's what the fucker hit me with," said Alan, pointing to the least fearsome. "You were lucky then," I said, "look at this one." 'This one' had sharp metal studs at the ends of the thongs, and it must have been intensely painful. "Thank God all we do is fuck and suck," I said, giving Alan a squeeze. I closed the case and put it back. There was another the same. "I wonder what's in here," I said, and when I opened it I knew we'd hit gold. There were the two passports and, almost as interesting, several dirty magazines. Alan was all for taking them, but I said that if we did that they would know that they'd been robbed, and that had to be avoided. With regret we left them, closed the case and put it back. The passports were in my pocket. I opened the door and seeing that there was no-one visible we left. The door clicked shut behind us. We had been in 733 precisely seven minutes. Alan was back in his elevator less than a minute later. The passports were burning a hole in my pocket. When I got down to the cabin I looked at them to see who those bastards were. I wrote down their names - I don't know why, it just seemed a good thing to do. I then ripped the pages out and tore them into the smallest pieces I could, and stuffed the tiny bits of paper in my pocket. The cardboard covers were harder to deal with, but I managed to rip out the names from the front. They whole lot could go overboard some time after dark. It was now 1315. Just as I was about to leave Tim came in. "How did that go?" I asked. "It was great," he said. "He fucked me for about half an hour and I came twice. That's the longest I think I've ever been fucked. What about you?" I told him what Alan and I had done. "You jammy bastard! You might have let me come." "But you did - twice. We had to do it when those bastards were at lunch." He wasn't happy, but he grudgingly agreed that it had been unavoidable. "Come on, give me a hug," I said. He's really special, my kid brother. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 15 as we enjoy the party with Cabin 2 and reach New York. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing a few months ago, 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. ===============================================================================