Date: Wed, 10 Jan 2018 08:56:17 +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 9 Mr Really-Keen, clad only in a dressing gown, greeted me warmly, and practically dragged me into his arms. "I'm Rufus," he said, "what's your name, gorgeous?" "I'm Patrick, Rufus. What would you like to do? They don't tell me, just that I have to be here at the right time." No harm in letting him think I'm all innocent - the more innocent the boy, the more satisfying the fuck. "You're here for an hour, Patrick, and in that time I want to fuck you twice. I don't know how often you can jizz in an hour - you can jizz, I take it?" - I assured him that I was not lacking in that department - "and if you can do it three times then I'll be a happy man." "Rufus, if I can do it three times I'll be a happy boy, believe me. I'm sure a skilled man like you can gat me jizzed up good and proper." I wasn't sure about the terminology, but Rufus seemed encouraged by what I had said. "Come on then" he said, "let's get your kit off and see the goods." The goods, when displayed, were entirely to Rufus's liking. His goods, displayed when he opened his robe, weren't too bad either. He was about 50, nicely tanned, with a nice firm body and a very nice, very firm 8 inch cock. Cut alas, but shaved. "Like it, Patrick?" "Oh yes, Rufus, I like it a lot," and to demonstrate the truth of what I had said I took it between my lips and tasted it. There was a little precum and I smacked my lips appreciatively. If he was coughing up $75 he might as well get a bit extra thrown in. Anyway, it was nice precum. "Up here," he said, leading me to the bed, "I want your cock in my mouth, remember." I laid down on my back. If Rufus wanted me on my front he could turn me over, but I reckoned he wanted to admire my boy bits before doing anything else. Very gently he rolled back my foreskin with two fingers before taking my cock into his mouth. The sensation of his tongue on my exposed cockhead was intense, and I gave an involuntary lurch upwards, forcing my cock deeper into his mouth. As my hips were off the bed for an instant Rufus got a hand under my arse while he had access. If he wanted me to cum, or jizz as he put it, three times we might as well get the first one out of the way, so I started to fuck his mouth. He was obviously happy with that, judging by his moans. He moved so that he could get his fingers in my arse crack, and I pulled my cheeks apart to give him encouragement to explore. His sucking and tongue work soon got me there, and I soon unloaded a decent amount into his mouth. "Mmmm, that's tasty," he said as he swallowed it. I lifted my legs and pulled them apart, exposing my vulnerable arsehole to his lustful gaze. "I need something up there, Rufus," I said, "and it would nice if it was several fingers, just to get me nicely warmed up for your fine cock. I hope I can take it all." You and I know that I can easily accommodate 8 inches, but a good whore likes to give the client the impression that the client is likely to present a challenge. That way a $20 tip might lie. "Let's hope so, Patrick, it's what I'm paying for." A finger soon found that I was lubricated in anticipation of being penetrated, and as the finger quested more deeply it found that the lubrication went all the way in too. "Wow!" he said, "you go deep." "As I hope you will, Rufus, now get some more fingers in there. I want to feel stretched." Rufus bent to his task, and three fingers were soon rubbing the wet inner walls of my arsehole. He felt for my prostate, and when he hit it I went wild. I have no idea what he did that was different from what other fingers had done, but its effect was like being plugged into the mains. I twitched and thrashed, and not one bit of my reaction was feigned. "What did you do?" I said, "I've had my prostate massaged often enough, but never like that." "I rubbed both sides of it with two fingers," he said, "and I guess no-one's done that to you before." He went on doing it, and I went in thrashing. "Show me after you've fucked me," I moaned, for articulate speech was becoming impossible. "OK." Rufus wasn't about to stop his ministrations however, and I warned him I was close to cumming again. "Fine, just do it," he said, "and as soon as you do I'll fuck you." The part of my brain which was plugged into the mains thought this sounded exciting, but it was a small, and diminishing part. Only 10 minutes after my first cum my second spurted out of my cock, making a surprisingly large puddle on my belly. "Wow!" he said again. The bit of me that could think rationally rather liked the idea that I could elicit a 'wow' from this guy by the volume of my spunk, but no sooner was the thought in my mind than there was action in my arse. Rufus had withdrawn his fingers and his cock was deep inside me - one swift thrust and it was all the way in. I was glad of the vaseline. Rufus was a first class fuck. He went in deep but he did so slowly. Each inward thrust was inexorable: it felt almost as though he had a couple of feet of cock slowly pushing into me. No-one had ever fucked me like that before, and the bit of me that was sitting on my shoulder taking notes determined that instruction in this manner of fucking would be given to subsequent guys whose technique was lacking. That bit of me was only a tiny part, however, and the bit that was stimulated by the friction of Rufus's cock in my insides was far more excited. Although I had cum twice, and cum a lot more than I usually did, I was in severe danger - danger? - of cumming again, far sooner than I wanted to. I resorted to a trick Father Corrigan had told me about when I was a relative beginner. "Recite your tables in your head, Patrick," he had said, knowing that a 10-year-old had to concentrate while doing so. As I was now 14 and a lot wiser (and a lot more practised with my tables) I now mentally said to myself 'seventeen, thirty four, fifty one, sixty eight, eighty five, a hundred and two' and the imminent orgasm passed. It never fails. I focused on Rufus, and what his cock was doing to me. He was close, I guessed, so I clasped my thighs even tighter round his body. "Go on, Rufus," I moaned, "fill me up. I want your hot jizz and I want to feel it now." I shouldn't boast, but I am skilled enough now to be able to time remarks of that kind pretty well to perfection, for no sooner had I finished my words of encouragement that I felt Rufus's cock swell and begin to pump large quantities of spunk, jizz, cum (who cares?) deep inside me. He squirted five or six times before he relaxed, his cock still inside me. "Wow, Patrick, you're one sexy boy. I haven't jizzed like that for a long time." "That's because I bring out the best in you. Rufus," I said, reaching up to kiss him on the lips. Rufus wasn't a kisser though, and he didn't open his lips for more. A moment later he rolled off, his cock slipping from me, and a trail of cum rolling slowly down my arse crack onto his bed. It wasn't my problem - I was whacked. The 17-times table had been useful - had it not been for that I'd probably have been unconscious by now. "You said you wanted to fuck me twice. How can you manage another one after a fuck like that, Rufus? It was something special." "Yeah. When I fixed up with the guy that runs things I didn't expect to have quite such fun first time. Do you mind if we don't have a second?" I said that I would love to be fucked again by him, but not today - that way he'd have to pay again and Sir would be pleased. I suggested that he might have cum so energetically because of my tender years. "How old are you anyway?" "14." "Wow! how come you're so skilled?" "Years of practice with sinful older men who've taught me all I know." He laughed. "they've taught you well, Patrick." I reminded him that the prostate lesson he'd taught me had been valuable too. "Show me what you did," I said. He made me stick my thumb between my second and third fingers, and then he rubbed the side of my thumb with his second and fourth fingers. "The middle finger goes further in," he explained. "Can I try it on you?" I asked, thinking that he would quite like penetration by one so young. "By all means," he said, "and when you've done that we'll see about your third jizz." I hadn't bargained for that, but he was paying and I had had time to recover a bit. He said it would be more instructive if he knelt with his arse in the air, so I got behind him. He gave me a tube of lube to use, and I soon had the three relevant fingers inside his arse. I knew where his prostate was, but I scrabbled around to give him the idea that this was virgin territory, as it were. After a few mishits I found it and he twitched nicely. "Now get your two fingers either side and rub it," he said. I did so, and it was clear that he enjoyed what I was doing. "You can rub quite hard," he said, "it's not made of glass." For some reason Aladdin's Lamp flitted into my mind as I rubbed harder, hoping some genie would float out and grant my wish. Suddenly Rufus said, "take you fingers out and fuck me. Now!" This was unexpected, but luckily my cock was hard and I had no difficulty getting it in. While I was fucking him I reached round to grasp his cock, and together we thrashed our way to our mutual target. It wasn't elegant, but we got there at last. I hadn't fucked a man before (although I didn't tell him that), and it was only the second fuck I'd had on the ship. I preferred fucking Alan, but that's because his arse was tighter. Rufus's cum added to the pool on his bed which had leaked from my arse. Now we really were whacked. Ten minutes later I got up and had a shower. "Thanks, Rufus, I really enjoyed that," I said. "Yeah, I could tell. Maybe we'll do it again." "Sure. You'll find me in the elevators - let me know and it'll get fixed up again." "Before you go," he said, "take this," and he gave me $50. I gave him a big hug. "Thanks," and I was gone. It was the biggest sum of money I had ever seen. ***** After the meal break I went to see Sir again. "Come." When he saw me he said, "this is becoming quite a routine, Patrick. What have you thought up this time?" I reminded him that I'd hoped we could have a session with Cabin 2 and that I'd worked out a plan. "I've arranged with Gary - he's the chef I told you about - to get some food and drink to Cabin 1 on the last night so that we can have a party - an orgy, I hope - with Cabin 2. I can't imagine we'll arrive in New York not knowing whether any of those three will be up for joining our group." Sir nodded. "But it needs you to allow it. Can you think of a treat you can lay on for Cabins 3 and 4, and explain that Cabins 1 and 2 will get the treat on the way back to Southampton? No-one will think it strange then, and they'll be pleased that they're getting the treat first. And you'll need to have a word with Gary's boss so that he can give us what we need." "You've worked it out, haven't you, Patrick?" "Pretty much, Sir, only I don't know what the treat might be for the other cabins." "I'll think of something, and I'll make sure it's so exciting that the six of them won't stop going on about it. Leave it with me. When do you plan your orgy?" "The last night before New York." "Then that's when Cabins 3 and 4 will have their treat." I told him that I had made assignations with Larry, Gary and Phil, and I promised he would have all the juicy details. "Juicy indeed, Patrick. Now off you go, I've work to do." When I came off duty at 1945 I was in great need of a drink. I'd rushed my lunch and had an exhausting hour with Rufus, and I felt weary. I decided to see if Roger felt like a drink, so I knocked on Cabin 2's door. "Come in." I found all three of them sitting on their beds with their jackets off. Like me, they were hot and tired. "Come on," I said, "I'm thirsty. Let's go and find somewhere cool." The crew canteen stayed open until much later than this to provide meals to stewards in particular, whose duties didn't often finish until after 2100. We helped ourselves to bottles of a strange liquid which none of us had seen before - Coca Cola. Being unaware of its power we swigged it somewhat more unthinkingly than we would soon learn to do, and the subsequent noisy belching brought a mixture of laughter and tutting from other crew members. We working-class English teenagers were learning so much so quickly. Being teenagers we were also permanently hungry, so we downed another meal. The galley staff seemed quite relaxed about feeding us, so it became a habit for us to go down there on many nights when we came off duty. The food being eaten, and the second round of Coca Cola sitting opened on the table conversation turned, as I intended that it should, to matters sexual. "I saw Harry in the showers again this morning," I said, "and I'm sure his cock's bigger than it was yesterday." While none of the others voiced an opinion about whether it had grown, all three agreed that it was the biggest on display. Roger said that he'd like to get his hands on it. "Only your hands?" I said. Sam and Peter laughed. Sam said, "Roger only does hands, but I'd like to get my lips on it." Roger protested. "I don't want to suck anybody's cock - that's queer stuff - but I don't mind if you do." Was there a weakness in Roger's position? "What about if Sam wanted to get his lips on your cock?" I asked him, "that makes Sam queer, but does it make you queer too?" Sam turned to Roger. "Yes, what about that. Would you like me to show you?" Roger became very red. "Leave him alone," I said, "I'm sorry, Roger, I shouldn't have said that." But I wasn't: it had been entirely deliberate. Tonight, at their wanking session, Sam's lips would remember and Roger's libido might allow a little queerness. "I've got something to tell the three of you." I said, "but you must promise not to tell anyone in Cabins 3 or 4. Agreed?" Three solemn nods. "You lot wank each night, and so do we in Cabin 1. We're having a party in Cabin 1 on the last night before New York, and you three are invited. There will be food and drink - and wanking. Roger - I think it very likely that there will be some queerness as well. Are you brave enough? I'll tell you a secret. Tim and I are very experienced at lip queerness, and you might be in for a treat." Sam and Peter agreed immediately that a party would be to their liking. "Come on, Rog," said Peter, "you can show these young boys your fine wanking technique and how far you can shoot." Appeal to a man's vanity, I thought, and you'll have him eating out of your hand. Not quite the perfect metaphor, but it was near enough. Roger's vanity got the better of his resolute heterosexuality. "OK." I said I would let them know when the party would start, and repeated that the other six mustn't know. I left them with added zest no doubt added to their night's routine excitements. It was almost 2100 when I got back to our cabin. The other two were there, and we settled down to an entertaining - and enlivening - hour in which each of us reported on the day's activities. At 2300 the other two were in bed, but I was still in my uniform. I took it off and put on a dressing gown ready for my swim with Charlie. "What are you up to?" asked Tim. I explained what I had arranged with Larry, and that tonight I hoped to get to know a lot more about Charlie. "You'll never get into his pants," said Alan. "I don't plan to," I said, "my ambition is to see him naked. If I get that far I'll play it by ear. Charlie is so stuck in his moralistic strait-jacket that I don't think it will take much to break him out of it. He's always done what other people tell him, and living in a cave up there he's probably never had the temptation to do anything very wicked, or had to resist the lure of something as incredibly attractive as a naked me." "Oh, fuck off and enjoy yourself," said my loyal loving brother. At 2320 I was in the toilets when Charlie very quietly crept in. "Sh!" I said, "follow me," and without waiting for a reply I went out and walked along the corridor to the stairs near the stern. I was relieved that Charlie was close behind, as that meant that he was now committed to misbehaving with me. We climbed to the pool deck and I led him to the closed door. Neither of us had said a word. As Larry had promised the door wasn't locked and we slipped in. "The changing room's over there," I said, pointing across the pool. The water was completely still. I was glad as it meant that Larry and his colleague had left some time earlier. "Will anyone see us?" asked Charlie nervously. "I shouldn't think so. The pool staff went half an hour ago and the pool doesn't open again until tomorrow morning. We've got all night." "I'm not staying that long," said Charlie. "Nor am I, but let's get on with it. I'm dying for a swim," and I led him into the men's changing room. It was one big space, with pegs for robes but no privacy. In those days men, or at least the class of men who could afford to sail in Queen Mary, didn't expect cubicles to change in, so Charlie and I were faced (as I had foreseen) with the task of undressing in front of each other. I took off my dressing gown, revealing that I had nothing on underneath. "Aren't you wearing swimming trunks?" said Charlie. "I don't have any, besides, who's going to see? Only you, and you're not going to be wearing any either, are you?" That gave Charlie a problem. I didn't think he would have trunks with him any more than I did, but I feared he might insist on wearing his pants. He hesitated. "Come on," I said, "be brave. I won't tell anyone. Race you in." Charlie made a decision. He took off his dressing gown and, not even pausing to hang it on a peg, ran past me and jumped in. I didn't get a chance to see his cock, so I followed him in, landing beside him. We swam up and down for a few minutes, enjoying the sensation of water on our bodies. In those days working class kids didn't get the opportunity to swim very often, and it was nearly a year since I'd been in the sea. I swam up to Charlie and we stood up to our shoulders in the shallow end. "Do you have a pool near Durness?" I asked. "Gosh no," he said, "I think the nearest one is a hundred miles away. I swim in the sea, but it's bloody cold." He stopped suddenly. "That's the first time I've sworn," he said, "that's a habit I've picked up from Chris. I hope you don't mind." "Me? No, I don't mind Charlie. I like you much more when you're being more like the rest of us." "What do you mean?" Time to take a deep breath, Patrick. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 10 as we get nearer to 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. ===============================================================================