Date: Thu, 19 Jul 2018 21:20:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 64 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 64 That night was the last we spent in Ashokan. The sleeping pattern arranged itself. I needed to be with Tim, so he and Sam joined Charlie, Cy, Abe and me in our hut. Alan and Andrew saw that Jakey and Esau needed to be together as well. The three men stayed together. I have no idea what happened between the As and the twins, but judging from Jakey's and Esau's sleepy faces the next morning I don't think any of them got much sleep. Cy and Abe cuddled in the middle of our bed, and a Queen Mary pair lay close on either side. All six of us were asleep almost as soon as we got into bed. The next night - our last on shore - would be in Kingston somewhere; Phil had probably worked something out. With 10 boys helping the three men we quickly got the camp back to the state in which we'd moved into it weeks before. By midday everything was tidy, and all that remained was bedding. Phil had agreed that we would drop this off in Kingston when we returned the keys. Before we got into the bus we all had a last look round. At that time I felt I would never go there again. How wrong I was. In Kingston Phil handed the keys back. He was expecting to have to pay for our stay, but when he got there the guys told him that arrangements had already been made with Cunard in New York. That meant he had plenty of cash, so all 13 of us went somewhere for a snack. With what we were promised would be a big meal later on we all needed to keep plenty of room. However, boys our age could easily manage a hamburger and fries (we were learning to speak American) without doing serious damage to our ability to eat another meal a few hours later. At 1700 we presented ourselves as bidden at the Perkinses. Mrs Perkins greeted us. "I'm Abigail and this is my husband Jethro. You know my boy Harry." We had met him before, and the four Kingston boys knew him, but not well. He was a year older than Cy, and although they had gone to the same school they'd not had the same group of friends. When we sat down to eat there were 16 of us at a huge table. The seating was random, and I managed to find myself next to Harry. He was a good-looking boy, fit from all the work he had to do about the store, but wiry-fit rather than muscly-fit. I liked his dusting of freckles. This would either work or it wouldn't. I fancied him (but then I fancy most boys between 12 and 20) and the next hour or so would show whether that feeling might go the other way as well. When the turkey was served and we were all stretching to pass bowls of all the trimmings to each other I accidentally pressed my leg against Harry's. He didn't move. A few minutes later I asked him to pass the gravy. He reached over and as he did so his leg pressed against mine. Coincidence or accident? Only one way to find out, Peter. I did nothing for some minutes then I managed stupidly to drop my fork onto the floor. I apologized to Abigail, blaming teenaged clumsiness, and pushed my chair back a little to enable me to bend down to retrieve it. It must have been the bending down after a big meal, but I had difficulty in getting up and had to put my hand out to steady myself. Was it bad luck that my hand landed on Harry's upper thigh? "Sorry, Harry," I said. "That's OK," he said. But what mattered was that he said it looking directly at me, and with the tiniest hint of a grin. Leave it there, Peter, there's no hurry. As it happens it was Harry who made the next move. A hand touched my thigh and squeezed gently. My thigh moved to his. A bargain was sealed. This was the first Thanksgiving dinner I'd had, and I was glad that I'd had only one burger earlier as the courses kept on coming. By about 1900 we'd been at the table for well over an hour and at last Jethro rose to his feet. He made a generous speech of welcome to us all, to which Phil gave a really good reply. He thanked the Perkinses of course, and told them a bit (highly edited, of course) about our stay in Ashokan and how so many people had been kind and helpful. He told a joke about the crocodiles too. After that we were all glad to leave the table. Abigail shooed us boys out, rejecting all offers of help to clear up. "You boys have far better things to do, and you'd only get in each others' way. Go off to your home, Cy, you'll find beds and mattresses for you all." This was not what any of us had expected. I collared Harry. "I need to talk to you," I said. He took me upstairs to his room. I said, "I fancy you, and I think you fancy me." Nothing from him, but a serious look crossed his face. Then he stammered, "how did you know?" "Oh, Harry," I said smiling, "when legs touch like that it's really pretty obvious." He looked alarmed. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else noticed. Still, even if they had it wouldn't have mattered as every one of us is like that - we all fancy boys." He was stunned. "You mean ... you fool around with the others?" I assured him that that was exactly what I meant, and that since we seemed to be in the right place it might be fun if the two of us fooled about right now. You mustn't think that my desire to fool around with Harry was solely that I had the hots for him (though I was to discover two minutes later that he certainly had the hots for me). No, my motive was mostly altruistic. If he was queer too then Cy and co would have another boy to have fun with. Of itself that would have been nice, but not something I would have felt important enough for my involvement to be needed. The big thing about Harry was that I guessed he had something that none of the other four Kingstonites had. Two minutes later I was proved right. When I knelt in front of him in his bedroom and put my hand into his trousers to draw out his cock I was thrilled to see a foreskin. I took his cock into my mouth and did what he wanted so badly (as did I). He came quickly and copiously. "That was great," I said, "but we can't do any more here. Why don't you ask if you can come to Cy's with us? There's bound to be a lot more of this going on there." He was so fired up, despite having just come, that he went back downstairs with me in tow to seek permission. His parents, busy washing dishes still, readily assented: "go and have fun, Harry, it's not every day you get so many other boys to chew the fat with," said his father, "but make sure you get back here by 8 tomorrow morning." That was when we left, thanking Abigail and Jethro again, and walking through the cold November night to Cy's. He, the twins and Abe were intrigued that Harry was coming with us. Cy whispered a question to me. "You'll see," I replied, "I think you'll like it." When we got to Cy's the door was unlocked. Inside there was a note from Rueben saying that he and Jethro had put mattresses from the camp store in three of the rooms. "Sorry it's a bit basic," the note went on, "but you'll manage. After all that turkey all you'll want to do is sleep it off." What was particularly nice was that under the table on which the note had been left was a useful number of bottles of beer. I wondered whether Rueben and Jethro had a better understanding of what might happen than their sons would have dared to think. The three rooms were explored. Someone had clearly thought carefully, because the smallest room had only three mattresses while the others had six each. There were 13 of us, but that didn't matter as the first thing we did was push the mattresses together in the two rooms we boys were going to occupy. Once this was done Cy suggested we should go to the barn. Phil laughed. "You never stop, do you?" It was a remark which needed no response. He, Ryan and Larry said that if we were going to deny them out beautiful bodies then they would have to make do with most of the beer. Jakey and Esau found this hilarious; Cy and Abe a bit less so; Harry was dumbfounded. As we made our way the 400 yards to the barn he kept saying "they knew we were going to fool around and they didn't mind". Actually I think they did mind a bit, but only because they wouldn't be doing any of the fooling around themselves. Harry stuck close to me as we all walked through the dark - there's nothing like jizzing in another guy's mouth for forming a fast bond. "Relax," I whispered as I could feel he was very tense, "Cy and his brothers are as queer as we are." Harry snorted. I didn't say any more: the barn was only 20 yards away and Harry's eyes would transmit messages to his brain that were more readily believable than anything I could say into his ears. Charlie and Tim, who knew me far better than any of the others, had worked out (partly as a result of our 5-minute absence in Harry's bedroom) that Harry was there for a capital-P Purpose. As they had walked to the barn they had quietly assured the Kingston boys that something was up with Patrick and Harry, and that they should follow their - Charlie's and Tim's - lead when things warmed up. Thus when we were all met again in the scene of our earliest fun with Jakey and Esau Harry, sitting on a bale of straw, found himself at the centre of a square of four of his fellow countrymen, all standing facing him. Harry gulped. Outnumbered by Jews - the hidden terror of all upstate New York Christian teenagers. Luckily the Jews all began to take off their clothes. Harry's interest was piqued - any boy taking off his clothes\as wantonly as these boys were doing wasn't a threat. Soon four naked Jews stood before him: four circumcised penises pointing at him like so many spears. "For God's sake, Harry, join in," I said, "we're all queer here. No-one's going to tell anyone or we'd all get whipped. Look behind you." When Harry stood up and looked behind him he saw six naked goyim, flaunting six uncircumcised penises. "Like what you see, Harry boy?" said Cy, "join the party. C'mon, get 'em off." In a fraction of a second four expressions flitted across Harry's face: surprise, resignation, acceptance, eagerness. Harry's clothes joined all the other garments out of sight somewhere. The four Kingstonites closest to him admired what they saw. Harry had eight inches, all of them hard and proud. His balls, low-hanging and hairy, swung gently as he moved. to look at his four admirers. "My, Harry, that's a fine dick," said Cy, clearly now the leader of the gang on his home turf. To think we've lived our whole lives within a mile of a dick like that and never got to know it better. Jakey, say 'hello' to this new dick." Jakey's lips were where mine had been only 20 minutes before. He licked and swirled his tongue round. "That's enough, Jakey; Esau, you say 'hello' now." Esau did better: he had mastered the intricacies of foreskins, so his lips were the first Jewish lips - were they the first lips of all? - to touch Harry's glans. Harry's glans transmitted its feelings in this matter to Harry's brain, which instantly passed the message to Harry's hands. Harry's hands caressed Esau's hair. Harry's brain received a message along the lines of 'you've never touched a Jew before': it is to be welcomed that the more sensible half of Harry's brain greeted this information with a simple 'fuck that - who cares?'. Racial prejudice being overcome, at least in the context of sexual excitement (the rest would follow), Harry relaxed and enjoyed what E was doing. E wasn't too pleased when Cy metaphorically blew the whistle and put himself in to bat. Cy's tongue explored other parts of Harry's cock, venturing as far as his balls. Then Cy withdrew and said that Abe should finish the job. "What d'you mean, 'finish', Cy? You know I like being fucked more than anything else." "So?" said Cy, "offer your usual hospitality to our guest." Abe grinned and knelt doggy-fashion. He was experienced enough a bottom to know that a virgin fucker would almost certainly prefer to take him from behind. "Come on, Harry, fuck the Jewboy," he said happily. Harry blushed. "I wish you wouldn't say that, Abe, it's horrid. I'm sorry if I've been nasty to you all. It's just that - oh, I don't know, I'm confused," "That's fine, Harry," I said, "we've all been confused. The main thing is that these guys are your friends. No, that's not true: that's important, but the main thing is that Abe wants you to fuck him." "Yeah, Harry, stick it in," said Abe invitingly, "it don't matter if you aint done it afore - these guys'll help 'n they won't tell a soul." It was hard not to spoil the effect by bursting into laughter. Harry approached Abe in two minds. He wanted to fuck Abe so much, but he wanted not to make a fool of himself. Much like anyone about to have their first fuck. In he went (had Abe greased himself for the party?), and for the two or three minutes he managed to stay there he gave every indication that he was thoroughly enjoying what was surely his first fuck. Abe did nothing to dispel this, crying out encouragingly as Harry did what had, until that moment, not come naturally at all. Too soon Harry groaned, "aaah! I'm cummin', Abe," and he grasped Abe as he filled the accommodating arse with spunk. "Keep it in, Harry, and reach round and wank Abe," said Cy, "he's nearly there. Your big dick has got him properly hot to jizz." Harry was in no position to refuse, and his right hand grasped Abe's hot hard cock. "Yeah, Harry, fast now," muttered Abe. While Harry was new to fucking, he was an expert wanker, although Jewish dicks had never been at the receiving end of his skills: he had, like most of the boys in Kingston, maintained hostility to the Jewish boys in the town. In fact Abe's was the first circumcised cock he'd seen, never mind handled. None of this passed through Harry's mind at the time: he'd come twice in the last hour: once in my mouth and once up Abe's arse; he was in the presence of ten naked boys; he was wanking a 14-year-old while still up (just - it was slipping rapidly) his sloppy arse. God! this was the best day of his life and ... Abe came gloriously over his hand and onto the barn floor. Cy, positioned at Abe's head, whooped. "Wow, Harry, you've got the biggest jizz load out of him in ages!" I doubted very much that this was true, but what mattered was that Harry believed it to be, and believing it, would wish to come back for more. Abe put his two cents in. "Whew, you fuck like a tiger, Harry. You must come to the barn more often." Jakey and Esau instantly reinforced this invitation. "Will you fuck me, Harry," said Jakey, "not tonight, 'cos you won't have any jizz left, but tomorrow? Please?" Harry laughed. "You bet, guys, if that's what you want." Cy assured him that the barn would welcome Harry at any time for all sorts of wicked goings-on. The ice was broken. Further couplings took place, watched incredulously by Harry (and with considerable interest by Cy and the twins). Jakey, who was clearly hell-bent on getting as close to Harry as he could, snuggled up to him as he gradually relaxed after his cherry-losing adventure. He whispered that Tim and Sam had tattoos on their asses "cause they're boyfriends; so are Charlie and Patrick, and Alan and Andrew. Don't tell anyone in Kingston, but Cy and Abe are too, I think." Abe heard this and turned to Harry. "Yeah. Doesn't mean we don't fuck other guys though, so you can fuck me any time." Nothing like being direct, I thought. I glanced at Tim and raised a clenched fist to him. "OK," he said, "they'll like seeing that. Who? You?" I nodded. It had been some time since Tim had fisted me. Cy saw this and chuckled to himself. "You'll love this guys, he did me the other day." I got down in position and Tim gave a running commentary on what he was about to do, pretending he was a surgeon training a bunch of medical students. "I am now about to penetrate the anus - will you gather round to see precisely how I do it," and more in the same vein. I had difficulty in not laughing, but I knew that laughing would put an end to a wonderfully relaxed arse and its ability to accommodate rectal investigation on the scale planned. Charlie and Sam were in hoots, however, uttering raucous vulgarities about what was happening. Cy was reliving being fisted himself; Abe was looking very keenly at how I was dealing with it; Jakey and Esau were old hands at watching a fisting, but still enthralled; Harry was just amazed. "How doesn't his ass just rip?" he asked. "I just relax as much as I can, and I push like I'm crapping," I said between invasive thrusts. Tim twisted then and I was no longer able to utter anything sensible. Charlie took over. "Look how Tim's hand is turning in Patrick's insides. He'll cum any second." He was not wrong. A fountain leapt from my cock ... five good gushes onto my belly and chest. "Jeez!" cried Harry, you never touched your dick and you jizzed all that. Wow! What's up your ass to make that happen?" "Patience, Harry," said Tim. "I'll show you." =============================================================================== The fun will continue in Chapter 65 as Harry's understanding of biology grows, and we at last join Queen Mary again. 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. ===============================================================================