Date: Fri, 11 May 2018 13:16:16 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 49 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 49 We experts were all keen to see how Jakey and Esau put their lesson into practice. Phil took a back seat but the rest of us gathered round to offer such advice and assistance as might be sought. And also to watch what might turn out to be an erotic performance - who in his right mind would turn away the chance to see, at close quarters, a pair of 13-year-olds sucking a man's cock? Ryan was on his back and Jakey got over him. "You can start with my foreskin where it is," said Ryan, "and you'll see how much it pulls back on its own when I get hard." His cock was still soft, so Jakey would see it at all stages. He took it in his left hand, lifting it so that he could lick along the underside. Ryan shivered. "That means he likes it, Jakey, don't stop," said Andrew, "the only thing you have to worry about is your teeth. Keep your lips over them if you can." As Jakey progressed Charlie and I, watching alongside Andrew, were impressed that he had picked up what he was supposed to do so quickly. "You're doing really well, Jakey," said Andrew. By this time he had two fingers up Ryan's arse and was bobbing around energetically on Ryan's cock. "Feel around with your fingers for his prostate, you know, the sexy button. It feels hard," I said, "and if you rub it Ryan'll maybe cum quite quickly." Jakey felt around and from the look on Ryan's face his finger found its target. "Oh God, Jakey, that's hot," he moaned, although I wasn't sure how much Ryan's pleasure was coming from his prostate, and how much from the sheer erotic sensation of having a 13-year-old sucking his cock. Charlie warned Jakey that a decision would soon have to be made. "He's going to cum soon, and you have to decide whether it's in your mouth, or on his belly. And if it's in your mouth do you want to swallow. You've only ever swallows mine, and Ryan'll shoot more probably." Jakey didn't hesitate. His fingers scrabbled harder and his head bobbed faster. Ryan groaned, "almost there, Jakey, you're a star," and a few seconds later his belly muscles contracted as his balls fired into Jakey's mouth. To do him credit he stayed connected to Ryan's cock for the first two or three pulses, but drew back after than to watch the rest of Ryan's cum shot up onto his belly. His eyes were bright with delight as he swallowed and smacked his lips. "Wow!" he said, "that was awesome," and before anyone else could do so he bent forward over Ryan to lick up the rest of his cum. Ryan held Jakey's head and when the boy had finished licking he pulled him up. Jakey, glowing with delight at his feat, received his first kiss on the lips from a man. "Well done, Jakey, you've a great future in front of you as a cocksucker." Charlie, Andrew and I joined in the group cuddle. "You deserve a reward," Ryan said, "who would you like to get you off?" Jakey didn't hesitate. "Andrew can suck my cock," he said, "you other three have done me already." While all this had been going on Esau had not been idle. Larry's cock had been sucked, his arse invaded by two fingers, his prostate sought and found. When Sam warned him about the incipient orgasm his decision had differed from Jakey's. Whether he drew the line at having a man cum in his mouth (only Sam had done so) or whether he wanted to see the firework display in its entirety wasn't made clear: whatever it was when Larry said he was coming Esau drew back to watch. "He shot six squirts!" he breathed, "I didn't know you could do that much." Tim enquired politely whether it was Esau's intention to do anything with the considerable quantity of jizz now glistening on Larry's body. When Esau declined Tim was in there like a shot. "Leave some for me," said Sam, but Tim was too quick. Sam's share was delivered third hand during a prolonged smooch. Esau watched this with considerable interest. "Do you guys kiss like girls?" When Sam and Tim broke apart Sam said that he didn't know, as he'd never kissed a girl and never particularly wanted to. Tim reminded him that he and Sam were boyfriends - "that means we love each other, and people who love each other kiss. Touching someone else's tongue with yours is no different from touching their cock, is it?" Esau saw the truth in this. Esau's reward was duly delivered by Tim, whose diet of seminal fluid was in danger of becoming excessive. It was time for a rest from sexual activity. We were relaxing on the beds. Esau suggested a game of baseball. "There's bound to be bats and balls somewhere: they'll play every day at summer camp," he said. These were located in one of the other huts after a quick search. We hadn't even heard of baseball, to the astonishment of the twins. There followed a breathless account of something called the World Series, which had recently taken place and which had had the whole of their family glued to the radio. It seemed that two teams from New York had reached the finals of the annual baseball competition that year, a source of great pride to New York, apparently, but the occasion of deep division within the family. The twins and their mother supported a team called the Yankees while Cy and their father were for the Giants. The rudiments of the game were explained, but meant nothing to us uncultured Brits. The twins' big heroes were called Joe di Maggio and Lou Gehrig, both of whose feats in the 1936 World Series would, we were solemnly assured, become the stuff of legend. The twins had not stopped gloating over Cy that the Yankees had triumphed resoundingly. Forty or so years later Charlie and I visited the baseball museum and found that the twins had not exaggerated: these two men were indeed high on the list of baseball greats. That afternoon, however, we remained wholly in the dark. "Come on," said Esau, "we can have a sort of game. We'll explain it as we go." A team has nine men with lots of substitutes, we learned, but in the current set-up this was not possible. Apparently you need seven fielders, someone to catch the ball - a bit like a wicket-keeper (we knew about them) - and what would have called a bowler, expect he was called a pitcher. Since all Esau was trying to do was to have some fun running about (and, as a not undesirable benefit, showing 'you Limeys' a thing or two) the imbalance of the teams was unimportant. As there were 11 of us Jakey and Esau were the pitcher and the catcher and the three men, Sam, Tim, Charlie and I were the fielders dotted about on the grass square. We had wondered what the white lines were for: now we knew. Esau informed us that it wasn't a field: it was a diamond. Alan and Andrew were to bat. Knowing what I know now we must have been participating in the oddest game of baseball ever that day. Hitting the bloody ball at all was a fluke, and if one of us did manage to hit it we had no idea of where it was likely to go. Esau and Jakey practically wet themselves laughing at our utter ineptitude. By some massive stroke of luck Alan connected on one occasion and the ball flew high in the air. "Catch it!" called Esau, and Tim hared towards where he thought it would land. It seemed to stay in the air for ages, but at last it dropped, and Tim managed to keep hold of it. "This game's easy," he said, "let's teach these Yankees cricket." Tim was invited to fuck off at this suggestion, not least by Andrew and Charlie for whom cricket was apparently an invention of the alien occupying force. Baseball, or a crude version of it, continued until another chance connection, this time by Larry, hoisted the ball well into crocodile territory, at which the game ended, there being only one ball. We were all hot and sweaty, so we stripped off, braving the crocodiles, but despite a careful search the ball was never found. "That's the end of that," said Sam with a sigh, "I suppose we'll just have to fuck you now." "Not until we've refuelled," said Andrew. "What can we do to help?" said Charlie, turning to Ryan. Ryan put his arm round Charlie and whispered something. Charlie laughed, "OK, "he said. We got out and dried ourselves. Charlie and Ryan went off to the cook hut. The rest of us put the baseball stuff - what was left of it - back in the hut and looked to see what else there was. Larry found some weights, so there was competitive lifting of weights and comparing of biceps for a while. This led to a boast from Jakey that he could do 20 press-ups. What 14-year-old is going to allow himself to be outdone by a mere 13-year-old, even one with a cock as nice as Jakey's, in the matter of press-ups? Soon all of Queen Mary's finest were bouncing up and down. "Whoa!" said Larry, "you have to keep your body stiff and straight - it's not just bouncing your pretty little arses." "He noticed!" cried Tim. The press-up competition degenerated as a bunch of teenagers vulgarly imitated sexual activity. "Is this what you saw Cy doing?" I asked. Giggles from the twins indicated that this was so. "What did you actually see?" asked Alan. Jakey said that they'd only seen him once and it had been a quick look through a crack in Cy's bedroom door. Cy had been on the bed and he'd been fucking this girl. They'd seen his arse going up and down. "Did you see her?" I asked. "Only her legs and her feet." I wondered ... no, surely not ... but he offered them a blow job to keep quiet, so ... "What's her name?" I said. "Dunno, we never met her." I allowed a short silence to develop. "So how do you know it was a girl?" I said quietly. This was met with a stunned silence. "We just assumed it was a girl," said Jakey, "Cy's never said anything about liking boys." "Could it have been a boy?" asked Sam. Jakey and Esau thought about it. Esau eventually said "I suppose so, but whoever it was didn't have hairy legs like Cy. They were smooth, that's why we just assumed it was a girl. We didn't see her tits or anything." "Well, if it was a boy." said Tim, "you could be in luck. If he didn't have hairy legs he's probably no more than 14, or 15 at most. He might fancy you two - after all, you sleep in the same house and you won't spill the beans." "This is crazy," said Jakey, "Cy's never shown any interest in fooling around with us." "Yes he has," I said, "he asked you to wank him when he was drunk on his 15th birthday. Would he have done that if he didn't think you would be willing?" "But he was drunk." "All the more reason to think he's interested; when you're drunk you say things and do things you wouldn't dare do if you're sober. Besides, he's promised you a blow job - is that something he'd offer if he was only interested in girls?" The twins were silent, digesting this new and unexpected line of thinking. While they were still pondering Charlie added, "how does he know that a blow job is a really exciting thing to promise someone if he hasn't had one himself? Maybe the boy you saw him fucking gave him one." Jakey said, "how can we find out? It would be great if he really did want to get it on with us. You guys won't be here for ever." This was sadly true. I said that I doubted whether either of them asking Cy would do any good. "Why don't you let us see whether we can find out when we come for Thanksgiving?" Esau leapt at this. "Yeah! That would be great. Just think, Jakey, if he fancies us he could fuck us every night." This from the boy who had resisted being fucked by Tim so recently. Now the idea of being fucked by his older brother was exciting. Odd things, boys. Suddenly Thanksgiving, 12 days away, couldn't arrive soon enough. Food arrived first. A whistle from Ryan made us all run. For a change it wasn't burgers, but thick juicy steaks. The meagre rations Tim and I - and most of the others probably - had had at home before Queen Mary were forgotten. We had been properly fed for nine months now, and we had all put on a good few pounds. Luckily our days (and nights) had been spent being pretty energetic - even when not on Sir's business we were standing or running around on errands - so the weight we'd put on was in all the right places, and we looked a lot fitter, and therefore in our own eyes, sexier, that we had back in cold rainy February in Liverpool. When the steaks were no more Charlie went to the kitchen and with some ceremony produced 11 small fruit tarts. These were laid before us individually. I could see what had made Charlie laugh. Each had two grapes and a slice of banana, fashioned in an appropriate manner. "Wait!" said Ryan, "don't start yet," and he approached the table with a dish and a small spoon. Each banana slice was decorated with a couple of drops of cream at the end further from the grapes. Spontaneous applause greeted this work of art. Charlie smiled, acknowledging the appreciation of his fellows. When we had almost finished he said, "oh, there's something I meant to tell you. It's not just cream." I had wondered why it had tasted particularly nice. Whether it was the protein in the steaks or the protein in the tarts wasn't important: what was certainly true was that after the food was finished and the five bell boys who had not contributed to its preparation (or any ingredient) had washed up and put everything away, everybody was raring for more action. It was dark, so swimming wasn't attractive. We'd all seen each other naked, but there's something erotic about seeing someone strip, even if you're completely familiar with their body. It was therefore pleasing when Phil suggested a game of strip poker. "No," said Larry, "it'll take far too long and there's 11 of us with lots of clothes. We need something where there's a loser every few seconds." "I saw a pack of cards when were getting the baseball stuff," said Jakey, "that'll do." Jakey was sent to collect the cards. "My father calls these the Devil's Picture-book," said Charlie when they were being dealt. Not for the first time I thought about the massive journey Charlie had taken, and not for the first time my heart melted. "Each of us takes a card in turn and the lowest loses. He has to take something off," said Larry, "but first we should all start with the same number." A little adjustment brought each of us to the position of having 2 shoes, 2 socks, 2 bits of underwear, a shirt, trousers and a jersey. Nine rounds. Larry made us all sit in a circle on the floor. "OK, let's go," he said. Things proceeded fairly quickly and without much interest for the first fifteen minutes. Much careful shuffling was insisted on, not least by Sam who found himself on the losing end three times in the first ten draws. No-one wanted to spend much time until things became interesting. Naturally shoes, socks and jerseys were the first things to go, and when we'd had 70 or so draws we could see things developing. All three men had vests and pants only, as did Alan, Sam, Tim and Esau. Charlie and Jakey had three things left on while Andrew and I were down to just our pants. Andrew said, "if Patrick or I lose we have to take our pants off, right?" Nods from all the more heavily clad. "What happens if we lose and we've got nothing on?" he asked. "That's where it gets interesting," said Larry, "I'm sure we can think of something." The next seven draws were lost by Phil, Sam, Ryan, Charlie, Charlie again, Alan and Jakey. There were now seven of us in just our pants and most of us (Ryan, Charlie, Sam, the As and me) had clear erections. Only Phil's pants concealed a soft cock. The next draw would probably be revealing. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 50 as we continue to play cards, and celebrate Thanksgiving Day in upstate New York. 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. ===============================================================================