Date: Thu, 2 May 2019 08:00:40 +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 146 That second night we were joined by Colin. At 16 he was the youngest of our new companions, and for that reason the one most likely to be our favourite. Charlie, having been infected with me when I was 14, still hankers for company of that age where possible - a rarity outside our occasional holidays in more accommodating countries. And I, of course, am still 14 at heart. Dinner that night had been less protracted than on the first night, not least because fewer of us had our tales to tell. Besides, each of us - apart from Prince and Nigel - knew that a new treat awaited him. Colin stood on formality even less than Felix had cone - perhaps the boys had conferred during the day - for he was already in bed when we appeared. "Just getting it nice and warm," he said before leaping out like a 5-year-old on Christmas morning. What appeared was no 5-year-old, however. Colin was all boy: lithe, fit, nicely-developed chest, very nicely-developed cock already as pleased to see us as we were to see it - and him. Not a trace of hair, naturally. James really had done a great deal of preparation. Two minutes after we entered we were also available for inspection and Colin pronounced himself happy that he was going to enjoy having "those up me." What Colin lacked in finesse he made up for in other ways, believe me. While I was standing admiring Colin and remembering what it had been like being 16 and whoring, Colin was kneeling as I had knelt so many times for men my age. I didn't offer any help: I wanted to see how Colin would go about the task he had ventured upon. I stroked his very short (it's a lot sexier that way) hair and smiled in anticipation. Charlie lay back on the bed to watch. His turn would come. With the thumb and index finger of his left hand Colin gently drew back my foreskin and I felt his tongue caressing my cockhead. I couldn't help groaning - not that I tried. I moved my feet apart and he immediately got the message that my balls needed attention. My cock was in his mouth, his right hand was holding my balls, gently rolling them. He removed his mouth long enough to say, "I love that you're all shaved. Silky balls are so sexy to suck," and he went back to sucking something else silky. As we had the whole night before us I was quite happy to let things proceed as fast as Colin could make them happen, so I relaxed. Colin's tongue was doing all the things that a boy of his age's tongue ought to be dong, and it was being plied with great skill. "I'm getting close," I muttered. Colin's tongue and lips swirled harder and I knew I was only seconds away. I groaned as I felt the spunk starting its journey. Colin knew too, and to my great surprise jerked his head backwards a second before I came. I couldn't do anything about it (just as well, because it was obviously what Colin wanted) and four big jets of cum splattered onto his face before he re-engaged his lips to take care of any last-second dribbles, and to stroke my still-sensitive cockhead. He looked up at me, grinning hugely, his face lined with the silvery trails of my spunk. "Different, eh? I love men coming on me - my face, my cock, everywhere." "It was something special, Colin, no-one's done that for a long time. Do we get to clean it up, or do you have some use for it?" "We all share," said Colin, scooping a little off and licking it off his hand. Charlie was over like a shot, and we made Colin stand while Charlie stood at one side and I at the other, and a minute later the boy was as innocent of carnal excess as it was possible for him to be. "That was fun," he said, "thank you, Patrick. Mr Corrigan suggested almonds, but I don't think so." I burst out laughing. Did James really keep records so faithfully and in such detail?. "What did you detect, Colin?" He rubbed his chin and wrinkled his brow. "Mmm, I'm not sure. Just the lovely taste of spunk, I think. I don't think it needs more than that." It was Charlie's turn to laugh. "Colin, we love the same things," and he kissed him. Colin's kissing technique was as faultless as his cocksucking. We were in for a happy, if busy, night. As we had done so many years before Colin evidently decided that if men of our age were going to fuck him then the pleasure would be prolonged if the men of our age had already come once, so it was to Charlie that Colin applied his mouth next. Charlie came on his face as well - this, we would learn, was very much Colin's thing: he would happily swallow spunk, but he liked it served off his face, rather than taking it directly from the tap. "No, nothing fancy," he said afterwards, "just good old home-cooked man-spunk. The best!" This boy would go far, I decided. We retired to bed, Colin snugly between us. He turned to me. "Patrick, I'd like you to fuck me first. I'm not sure I can take all Charlie has to offer." "Bollocks, Colin, you're forgetting you're here to service a couple of whores. Charlie's is bigger than mine, so naturally you want him second. I'm sure you can cope with anything any of us might throw at you." Colin had the grace to blush. "You're right, I was forgetting." "Just to show you how forgiving I am I'll let you choose how you want it," I said, fairly sure that his choice would match mine. "This first time I want to lie on my back and look up at the face of the man we've all heard so much about as he gives me the best fuck of my life." Charlie burst out laughing again - it was going to be that kind of night. "James must have had a whale of a time telling these kids all about you." "And you, I hope," I said, "apart from the first week you were as bad as the rest of us. Now, on your back, lad." Colin's grin was almost as nice as his other attributes - cheeky, like Tim's was at that age (and mine as well, I suppose, though I didn't grin in a mirror that often). "Come and get it," he whispered. It was hot, so I threw the bedclothes off. There are few sights more pleasing than that of a boy of tender years lying naked, waiting keenly for you to fuck him. But first, of course, there are the delightful preliminaries to be enjoyed. I knelt at the gates of the shrine. He lifted his legs and bent his knees so that they were beside his ears. His arse was smooth, pink, vulnerable, keen to be penetrated, keen to feel the millions of nerve-endings up there in the warm moist dark screaming their pleasure-loaded signals to his brain. I was in no hurry, and I suspect he wasn't either. If I was going to be anywhere near the best fuck of his life it would take time. "In the best fuck of your life so far, Colin, how many times did you come?" "Twice," was the instant reply. "Then this time be prepared to count to three, my boy." I don't know what it is about a boy's arse when you see it like I saw Colin's that night. Hundreds of arses have passed under my eyes, but the arse of a boy that age is just incomparable. My eyes had feasted enough though, it was time to taste. I put both hands under his buttocks and raised them off the bed. My tongue made contact just at the point where his arse crack disappeared above his coccyx. It travelled, as it had travelled so many times before, slowly slowly towards his arsehole, already (he was a professional, after all) winking invitingly. I, too, was a professional and I wasn't going to fall for an old trick like that. A whore wants the punter in and done as fast as possible. Even when, as now, the whore's brain wants the fuck to be prolonged, the whore's arsehole is on autopilot and goes on winking. As a consolation I spent a few moments licking the engorged lips and even putting my tongue in a little. Colin moaned, so that was nice. From the squirming he was starting to do, Colin hadn't been treated to what I was dong down below. "Oh, Christ, Patrick, that's so fucking hot," was all the encouragement I needed to give him the de luxe performance. "Go on, love, you've got him just where you want him," said Charlie, who knew the script intimately, "you'll love this, Colin." There was every sign that Colin was in full loving-it mode already, but Charlie and I knew that more, and better was to come. As was Colin - three times if I had anything to do with it. My tongue had journeyed back and forth between the end of his arse crack and the soft delicate skin where his scrotum eased its precious cargo away from his body at the other end of his crack. As always, each time my tongue passed his arsehole it lingered a little longer, now swirling round his lips, now penetrating the half-inch I could manage. "Oh, oh, oh," and I sensed that the first event was only a few seconds away. The best way (probably from his point of view, and certainly from mine) to bring this about was for me suddenly to take all of his cock - or at least, all that was necessary, into my mouth ... "ah, fuck, fuck, that's so good, aaah!" as three hard jets of tasty boy-spunk coated the inside of my mouth. "Like you said, Colin, the lovely taste of spunk. Only two to go, so relax." Colin purred, the way they do at that age after an unexpectedly good orgasm. I knew that he would be greased, but it still made sense to enjoy the process of finding out, so a finger went in. I say `went', but that implies I had anything to do with the process of entry. No sooner had the first half-inch of my index disappeared inside than a magic vacuum sucked the rest of the finger in. "Nice," I said appreciatively. I don't recall any of us having that skill, certainly not as boys. "More," he demanded, and - there was no point in buggering about - the next two fingers were sucked in equally voraciously. "Mmm, I love what you're going to do next," he murmured, "Dustin showed us this." I must make sure we make the most of Dustin's visit, I thought. Dustin may have played on Colin's prostate, but he had probably never done so just two or three minutes after the boy's balls had first delivered, for Colin was startled when 20 seconds or so of Mulloy's magic fingers brought a further ejaculation. "Fuck!" I've never done that before. "It's just the tail end of the first one," I said, "it doesn't count. "It may not count," he panted, but I felt it all right - my whole body shook." I smiled. Playing this boy's body was fun. "How many fingers can you take?" asked Charlie. "When Patrick was your age he and Tim had the smallest hands of any of us, and they were great fisters." Colin didn't reply at first. Then "four. None of us has done any fisting although it's not for the want of trying." "Which of you has the smallest hands?" "Me, probably, or maybe Eddie." "I think it might be fun to have a fisting class, don't you, Colin?" I said, my three fingers still well out of sight. "Yeah ,,, aaah! .... oh: fuck!" The first cry of not-quite-dismay was his reaction to my sudden withdrawal of nice arse-filling fingers; the second cry was of shock, instantly turning to delight, as I forced my cock in all the way. "Oooh, that's so nice, Patrick." He's on his back. I'm fucking him slowly, oh, so slowly. Deep and long. I look down. I see a beautiful blond-haired boy, his blue eyes looking straight into mine, mischief, joy and lust all there. His lips are parted and the tip of his tongue is protruding. He is panting, but at the moment there's no hint of urgency. I wonder what he's seeing. Apart from a middle-aged man fucking him, that is. Don't ask, Patrick, leave it to your imagination. I sat up, his arms trying to pull me back down. It was time for number two. I teased his hole with my cock head. "Please," he mewed, "please, Patrick." I thrust in hard - he'd loved that the first time. And almost all the way out ... and when I thrust in the sixth time he yelled and came again. Charlie moved to oversee matters. "How may squirts did you swallow?" "Three, but there was a fourth a bit later." "Well, there another three good lines on his chest and a dribble." "It's all yours, Charlie," said the former owner of the cooling spunk so enticingly laced over Colin's chest. I paused in my fucking while Charlie had his snack. "Ready, Colin?" "Mmm. This is the best bit. Charlie?" "Mmm?" "If I'm going to cum again would you please wank and cum on my face as I do, and Patrick? Would you whip it out at the last minute and see if you can do the same?" Charlie and I exchanged nods. If this delightful boy wanted the session to finish that way - or if not finish, then start a period of rest - then who were we to deny him? I knew that I could keep this up for a long time, but if the night was going to have further adventures I didn't think a marathon was a good idea. Maybe another time. I mentally decided on around 20 minutes. "Charlie, will you help me? I think Colin's nipples might benefit from your skills." Charlie was in position, kneeling at Colin's right side. His nipple technique sends me through the roof, but it's not everyone's taste. It took only three or four seconds for it becomes clear to anyone in earshot that Charlie's lips and tongue (and, when gently pressed into service, his teeth) and Colin's nipples would be friends for ever. It did cross my mind that the third coming might happen without any contribution to it on my part - except that I was still fucking him long and hard. Charlie's hands were not idle. He, like me, gets turned on by stroking a boy's really short hair. And if the boy is blond and blue-eyed Charlie's cup is in running-over territory. His right hand was engaged in bringing Colin's cock to the party again. If, as all three of us wanted, all three of us were to come at much the same time, then Charlie and I would have to work closely together. Happily from Colin's point of view this was something we could do with our eyes shut. After ten minutes or so Charlie got up and moved round to kneel on Colin's left. That was the signal that Charlie was about to want to put his right hand to his own use. "Five," he mouthed, and I nodded. Colin was cooing non-stop. If there was steam coming out of his arse I couldn't see it, but believe me, it was red hot up there. The minutes ticked by and I started to accelerate. "Two," I mouthed and Charlie nodded. We were on track. Colin decided that he ought to bring something to the table, and his right hand reached for his red rigid cock, leaking precum all over his belly. I knew that if he came while I was still up his arse then the spasm of his arse muscles would get me there too quickly to pull out and come on his face, as he wanted, so I drove in one last time, reaching - I hoped - further than I'd reached before. "Aaah!" from Colin. I pulled out and as I did so the boy came again, two good squirts onto my belly. Charlie was standing going like billy-o and as I was still a few seconds away I saw the glorious spectacle of his cock pouring - there is no other word - good Highland spunk all over the cheeky sexy face of the voracious recipient. Hair too! I wouldn't normally want to cum in someone's hair, but since Colin was going to have to get Charlie's out I didn't hold back. "Yessss," I hissed as my cock rid itself of six - yes, six! - fine lines of essence of Mulloy. Four criss-crossing Charlie's - the poor boy's face was almost obscured - and two well above the hairline. Naturally the three of us collapsed in a cummy heap. Some, but by no means all, of the warm nectar fetched up in a mouth, often shared with a second mouth, but some dried where it had landed. Colin was the first to offer a comment. "Yeah. You pass, Patrick. Now it's up to Charlie to beat that." In our day Sir would have had us out of there and in the shower, but this wasn't our day - well, not in that sense - so the three of us did something we rarely allowed ourselves to do: we slept, exhausted, tangled, cummy, happy, two of us in love and the one in the middle blown away by the best fuck of his life. Getting crusted spunk out of Colin's hair in the shower the next morning was a nightmare. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 147 as the voyage, and our explorations of sex with our new companions, continue. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I first saw them while making a transatlantic crossing in 2017, and had the pleasure of seeing them again in April 2019, smiling at the knowledge of all the things that had befallen the boys since I first saw them, and thought again how cute "I" was. I'm sure he had adventures in real life ... Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. =============================================================================