Date: Fri, 16 Feb 2018 23:47:52 +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 22 "Tim and Alan and I have had sex with a lot of men, here on the ship and long before we joined," I said. "Sam, Peter, tell us what experience you've had with men." Peter told us about his brother, which was news to the rest of them. "Is he the only man you've had, apart from Gus?" asked Tim. Peter nodded. "What about you, Sam? Any man apart from Ryan?" Sam shook his head. "Charlie, they need to know about you. Will you tell them, or shall I?" I said. Charlie said that he would tell them. "It's embarrassing, but I must get used to talking about sex with you all. I come from a very strict religious background, and I was taught that wanking was wrong. When Alan touched my ... arse when the photograph was being taken - well, you saw my reaction. That's what I'd been taught. It seems unbelievable now, but until last week I'd never wanked. Patrick showed me how in the pool one night, and I haven't stopped since." "Oh, Charlie, we love you!" said Sam, "you must be loving what you've found out about your cock." Charlie grinned, happy that he was being accepted by this new group. "Since then I've had sex with all of you except Alan, but not with any men. Well, Sir's sucked my cock, but I don't know if that counts." Alan said, "I don't think it does, because he's not very good at it. You and I, Charlie, will put that 'except Alan' bit right before midnight - I promise." Charlie blushed. Charlie's blushing, although he may not have liked it, was going to be popular with clients. The more innocent-seeming, the better. I went on, "the point about all this is that you three, especially Charlie, will need practice and training before Sir lets you loose. Sam and Peter have clients today. Sir will have met them and found out what they want. If it's basic stuff like sucking the client off, or being fucked, then you're capable of getting on with it. If it's a bit more unusual Sir will tell you. Sir sets the price - it's $75 an hour for basic stuff - and if the client gives you a tip it's yours to keep. Charlie, I don't want you to have any clients on this trip, but I do want you to get used to sex with men. For the next few nights I'll try to get the three guys who've been fucking in here to spend another night." Charlie's eyes were not the only ones to light up. "Tim, you've been with all three of them. Will you sleep in cabin 2, and give Sam and Peter a chance to get fucked by them?" Tim smiled. "Just this once, but don't you dare ask again. The things I do for England." "Are we agreed then?" Five nods. We went out, glad that no-one spotted six bell boys skiving off duty. As we went to our elevators Tim and I wondered what Sir had for us at 1145. "He said it was unusual. What do you think it can be?" he said. "No idea. But if the man said he wants you and his son wants a boy his age we could find it's a foursome - one man and three boys. I like the sound of that." Tim agreed. "We'll soon find out," and off we went to our duties. I was conscious that I was taking quite a lot of time off, but as most of it was on Sir's behalf (if not Cunard's) I didn't feel too bad about it. At 1130 I found Tim showering, so I joined him. We washed each other, trying hard to be as unsexy as possible. It would have been fun for us to have vaselined the other, but we wanted to avoid fun at the wrong time. Clean, and well prepared, we went to see Sir at 1145. He told us that we would be there for three hours and that the client and his son would give us lunch. That was all he knew. We went up to Deck 9. This was where the most expensive staterooms were, and 902 was one of the best. I knocked on the door, which was opened by the son. I'd noticed him in the elevator, but as his father had made the arrangement I'd not studied him closely. I now saw he was our age, a bit taller but slim. We went in, and I told them our names. "Sit down, boys," said the man, "I'm James and my son is Bertie." It was immediately clear from his accent that he was upper-class English - we later found out from Sir, who had his passport, that he was an Earl - and from the size of the suite he wasn't short of a few pennies. We sat on the settee, perched rather awkwardly. James and Bertie sat in armchairs on either side of us. James explained what he wanted. "I've arranged for you to be here for three hours and during that time we will have some fun, then some luncheon, then some more fun. Luncheon will be at 1 o'clock. Go through to the bedroom and remove your clothes please. We will join you in a few minutes." We went where he pointed. Inside were two large double beds - the room was the biggest we'd seen on the ship, and the suite must have cost a fortune. As we were $75 an hour each he was forking out over £100 for us, and giving us lunch into the bargain. As we were stripping Tim said he'd never had luncheon before - nor had I - and hoped that it was posher than just lunch. "We'll soon find out," I said. No sooner were we naked than James and Bertie appeared, still clothed. James went into the bathroom while Bertie admired what was before him. "What do you want us to do?" I asked. "Oh, nothing yet. Wait until we've got our kit off. I just want to see what you've got to offer." It was all very strange. "Do you like what you see?" asked Tim. "Oh yes, I love it. You've both got super cocks. They look very tasty. Can you squirt yet?" We assured him that squirting was something at which we were highly competent. "What about you?" asked Tim cheekily. Bertie grinned. "Oh yes, have no fear." This was decidedly weird. The sooner we all got down to business, the better. Just then James appeared. He was naked. He had some hair on his chest, but his cock and balls were completely smooth. His cock was the largest I'd seen - it must have been nine inches, and it wasn't anything like fully erect. His cockhead was partially showing through his foreskin. His balls hung very low. We would soon discover that his arse was shaved as well. Bertie went into the bathroom - why did he not just strip where he was? I felt we ought to show a degree of enthusiasm about the figure before us, so I knelt in front of James and started to put my lips round his cock. "No," he said, "I want Tim. You are for Bertie." I stood up and Tim took my place, taking James's cock into his mouth and rolling his tongue keenly. At this moment Bertie appeared. He was hairless, and he took after his father in the cock department. For a 14-year-old (if that's really what he was) it was impressive. Seven inches of hot boyflesh was standing almost vertically, and bobbing gently with his heartbeat. I went over and knelt to take it into my mouth. "Oh yes," he murmured, taking my head in his hands while I went to work. James beckoned Tim over to the other bed. Moments later Tim had as much of James's cock in his mouth that he could manage, and was giving it the most welcoming treatment he could. Then Bertie stepped back, leaving a thin string of liquid hanging from the exposed tip of his cock: was it precum or spit? "We want to fuck you now," he said. This was very strange: why was he leading the procedure and not his father? "How do you want me?" I asked. "On all fours of course," he said. Odder still: had he never fucked anyone face to face? This family was indeed weird. I got on the bed and knelt with my arse invitingly exposed. No foreplay, no fingering, straight in. Even with a good load of vaseline up there it was still uncomfortable - not the size, I loved that, but the sheer speed and lack of finesse. I knew I was going to be fucked, and Bertie knew that I knew, but surely it must have occurred to him that putting it in slowly, teasing my crack maybe, would have made it better for him as well. I couldn't work it out. Bertie went at it with great energy and if his goal was to come as quickly as possible he was going about it the right way. After less than three minutes he got even faster and pushed right in (I enjoyed that part) and with a loud cry of "oh fuck! here it comes" he let loose. I could feel his cock pulsing several times and I felt the hot wetness of spunk in my insides - a fair amount as far as I could tell. While all this had been happening Tim was still giving James's cock the Mulloy treatment, but as Bertie announced his orgasm James got up quickly and went over to where we were. Tim followed, unsure what he was supposed to be doing. James made it very clear. "You are to clean my boy's cock," he said. This was entirely to Tim's liking, so when the somewhat deflated Bertie withdrew Tim was onto it in a flash, licking and smacking his lips (the former for his, the latter for our clients', enjoyment). I had clenched shut, and remained in position as I hoped that my next invader would be James. As he made no move, and all the action was with Tim and Bertie I decided to see what would happen if I suggested to James that I had a peculiar liking for being fucked again soon after. "I believe you are asking for what is called 'sloppy seconds'," said James. "Are you able to take a cock this big?" We all know the answer, but a good whore always pretends to be worried about the consequences of being penetrated by something that big. "I don't know, James, it's very big, but I want to try. Bertie's cock didn't get as far up me as yours will, and I'd like to feel yours while I'm still wet inside." The usual dirty talk stuff - it never fails. Before he put it in I said, "Bertie shoved it in - I'd like to feel every inch of your ploughing a furrow up my arse till it's all the way in." James smiled. "That you will certainly feel, Patrick." It was a far, far better fuck that his son's. For a start there were about three more inches, and all ten or so were thicker than Bertie's inches. They also spent a lot longer inside me - more than ten minutes. The sounds of James's cock plunging into an arse already filled with Bertie's spunk were ... well, squelchy. There's no other word. But squelchy in that context is good - I was turned on by the sound as well as by the sensation of being filled up by cock. And when, after ten minutes, James got near he phrased the announcement in a manner more becoming of a gentleman. "Take my offering, boy." The offering was delivered in about eight strong pulses, all of which I could detect right up near my stomach (or so it felt). Bertie and Tim had watched this from the other bed, and although I couldn't see what they were up to I didn't think either of them had come again. Bertie was a noisy comer, and I knew Tim's signs, none of which I'd heard during my pummelling. "Tim, clean my father's cock," he said. Lucky Tim! I remained kneeling, my arse still up in the air, hoping that someone would tell me what was wanted next. I hoped it would be Bertie, as James was still high from fucking me and having Tim prolong his cock's pleasure. At last Bertie got on the bed behind me, and I felt him take my arse cheeks in each hand and separate them. I've no idea what my arsehole looked like, but it was inviting enough for Bertie to get his face right in there. His tongue, wholly absent from earlier, was now very busy indeed, licking and slurping at what was gently escaping from inside me. I pushed very gently - there is nothing worse in this situation that pushing too hard with the inevitable fart rather putting the cleaner-up off from his task. Cum oozed more generously, and judging from the 'mmm!' from Bertie this was what he was after. "Let me turn over and you can get under me," I murmured, "you'll get more that way." "Very well." He got on his back and I squatted over him with my arse above his mouth. James, his cock now clean and returned to its normal size, was watching. "That looks very exciting, Patrick. He's never been fed that way before. Bertie, you'll need to remember." Bertie, however, was in no position to reply as he had reached up and his mouth was completely engulfing my arsehole. I could feel his tongue reaching well inside - I must have been wide open - and the sensation was very sexy. I had a strong erection, and so far no-one had touched it, or even mentioned it. Should I wank myself onto Bertie? I took hold and started when a sharp 'NO!' came from James. "Push, Patrick," he said. This could be fun, I thought, glad that we all routinely had a shit before sticking the vaseline in. Still, that had been an hour or so earlier, and a boy's guts go on making stuff even when he's busy. I pushed and an enormous quantity of cum - Bertie's and James's - together with a lot of Patrick Mulloy arse juices was squeezed into Bertie's mouth. Luckily that was all that emerged. Bertie gobbled it all up like a good little pervert. I had time to think that Bertie was a great loss to Sir's little group before he lowered his head, licked his lips and - wholly unexpectedly - reached up again to give my arsehole a kiss. So far I'd been fucked twice and Tim had sucked two cocks. Bertie had had a good protein feed. Neither of us had come, or even had an interest shown in our cocks, both of which were hard and begging for release. I went and sat next to him, conscious that my arse would probably leak onto the bedclothes. James threw me a towel which I caught and put under me. "Thanks," I muttered. James told us the plan. "In about fifteen minutes luncheon will arrive. It will be brought by a waiter who will serve us. He will return twenty minutes later with dessert. He will then serve us again, but in a different manner. After an hour or so you and he will go. I see that you are both hard, and I'm sure you wish to come. That will not be possible until after luncheon. Then you will be free to come as often as you wish. We will all now shower before luncheon. In order to be certain that you do not come you will be accompanied in the shower." This was getting stranger and stranger. 'Dessert' was presumably what we called pudding: I could work that out, but what did he mean by serving 'in a different manner' and that the waiter would stay an hour. Surely it could only mean one thing: the waiter was going to be involved in the fucking or whatever treats James and Bertie were planning for themselves. And for Tim and me, if we were being told we could come as often as we liked. I got off the bed, pleased to see a large wet patch on the towel, and headed for the shower. Bertie followed me. He closed the door. No sooner were we inside than Bertie completely changed. He went from being the composed young gentleman (apart from the 'oh fuck!' moment) into an animal. He put his arms round me and our mouths met. His lips were open and his tongue met mine. I was all for this kind of treatment, so I drew him into the shower cubicle, still connected. I turned the tap - thank God it wasn't freezing - and we stood, still glued together, while the water ran down two hot 14-year-old bodies. At last we parted and we started to soap ourselves. "What was all that about?" I said, "you were on fire just now, and your cock's ready again." "Yes, but we're not allowed to do it again. Not until James lets us." This needed solved. "Doesn't he let you come when you want?" "No. When I fucked you I hadn't been allowed to come for six days. Didn't you feel about a gallon of spunk up you?" I grinned. "Yeah, but I had no idea it was six days'-worth." "Will we get to come after lunch?" "Oh yes, it'll be quite different then. You'll see." And he would say no more. We got out, clean and, in my case, still horny, and Bertie handed me a towel. "Go through and dry yourself, and send Tim in." I did as he asked. While Tim was showering James told me a bit more about his plans for the afternoon. You and Tim will be allowed to fuck Bertie and the waiter if you wish. I shall watch. You must pretend that I am not there. If I wish any of you to come to me I shall tell you. Understood?" I nodded. "No, Patrick, I require you to answer. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand." "Good boy," and to my surprise he stroked my cheek. I didn't understand upper-class people. Tim and Bertie emerged, towelling themselves. James and I, both stark naked, sat waiting for them. He got up and took the two towels into the bathroom. When he came back he smiled and said "luncheon." Were we going to eat naked? Neither James nor Bertie seemed to think it strange to sit down at the table without a stitch on, so Tim and I fell in with this incomprehensible behaviour. Sir's 0915 meeting tomorrow would probably last all morning if this went on. What was going to happen when the waiter appeared? Tim had noticed something odd and was trying to get my attention. He peered at the place settings, and I twigged what he had seen. The table was laid for five. James was at one end, Bertie was on his right, and Tim and I were side by side facing Bertie with our backs to the door. Who would sit opposite James? A discreet knock on the door heralded the arrival of lunch. Nobody got up from the table. A trolley was wheeled in. When covered dishes were placed before James and Bertie I saw the waiter. It was Phil. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 23 as our strange encounter continues. 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. ===============================================================================