THE HUNTING SEASON

by Pink Panther

Welcome back! Alex and the boys are back at school and the story moves on again. You may notice a change in style, in that the sex scenes in this chapter are hinted at rather than described in detail. The reason is that they're all things that I've written about before, and I don't want to insult your intelligence by repeating myself. As chapter 31, which was very sex-heavy, produced hardly any feedback, I'd be interested to know what you think of this more subtle approach. Please send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

And please remember to donate to Nifty, which relies on readers' donations to keep operating as a free site.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

September 1960

Alex had prepared meticulously for the new term. He'd been through the lesson notes for all the classes he'd taught the previous year, making changes where things had not gone as well as he would have liked. In addition, he'd made extensive notes for the group that would become his Fifth Year class. The only topic that they had left to cover was calculus, which involved concepts that were quite different from anything the boys would have met previously. He needed to explain them in a way that the lads would understand. He hoped he'd got it right.

In the main, he was keeping the classes that he'd taught the previous year, and so he already knew the large majority of the boys he'd be teaching. There were two exceptions. As he hadn't been teaching a Fifth Year class, he wouldn't know any of the boys in his Lower Sixth Pure Maths group. Then there was 1-Blue, his new First Year class. He could hardly wait to meet them.

But he shouldn't build up his hopes, he reminded himself. The previous year, he'd been very fortunate to find Whitney. It was most unlikely that his new First Year group would include anyone like him. That was not to say that there might not be a boy he could seduce, but it seemed inconceivable that it would be as straightforward as it had been the first time around. Coaching the Under-12 football team might well provide him with the opportunity he was looking for, but even then, he'd need to tread very carefully.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Michael turned thirteen on the Saturday before they returned to school. There were no celebrations. He hadn't had a birthday party since he was six. That one had resulted in his parents having a blazing row. On this occasion, his parents, or rather his mum, had bought him the transistor radio he'd asked for. His Uncle Jack had bought him a very stylish winter jacket. That was it.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

On the first day of term, Alex spent the periods before morning break with his form, 2-Green as they'd become. He was delighted to see that around half boys were still wearing shorts, including Barnes, Newton and Whitney. Like Whitney, Newton was wearing the shorts he'd had the year before. They were now very snug on him, Alex noted. As the boy sat at his desk, they revealed a considerable length of well-tanned thigh.

Alex's eyes feasted on the sight. The lad was still a most enticing prospect, and despite the rebuff he'd received before the summer holiday, not one he'd entirely given up on. But he wouldn't pursue the boy. Instead, he'd wait and watch. If an opportunity arose, he'd be ready to take it.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After break, teaching began. Alex began with his Upper Sixth Pure Maths group. They'd all performed competently or better in the end of year exam, and so there were no real concerns. His task was to keep them at it, and not allow any slackening off. But there was no rush, and with that in mind, he started by revisiting some of the algebra they'd covered in Lower Sixth. Once they were up to speed, he'd introduce some of the more advanced work that they had yet to cover.

For the final period of the morning, Alex took his new Fourth Year group. The boys lined up quietly outside his classroom.

"Dodd," he announced. "You'll be sitting at the front desk by the window. Townley, you're to sit at the front desk in the middle. You two go in now." He paused as the two boys took their places. "Right gentlemen," he continued. "Nobody is to sit in the back row. Apart from that, you may sit where you like. Okay, in you go!"

The boys trooped into the room, quickly selecting their seats and getting themselves settled.

"Right, you know the drill," Alex told them. "Having chosen your seats, you are to sit there for all your maths classes unless I tell you to move."

He quickly made a seating plan.

"Sir," Townley asked. "Why isn't Parker in with us? You said you'd be taking everyone except for the boys who were in the top set."

"It transpires that Parker's mother had a conversation with Mr Fleming, the Head of Maths," Alex said evenly. "They agreed that Parker would join Mr Fleming's class; nothing to do with me."

With textbooks issued, it was time to begin work. Once again, Alex began by going over some of the algebra they'd done the previous year. After a six-week break, it would take a few days for the boys to become fully focused. Once that had been accomplished, they'd be in good shape to move on.

Finally, the bell sounded for lunch.

"Okay," Alex announced. "Dodd and Townley, remain behind for a moment; I need a word with you. The rest of you pack your things away quietly and make your way out to lunch."

He watched them leave. As the last boy departed, he turned to Dodd and Townley.

"Right, boys," he asked. "Why d'you think I've got you sitting at the front?"

"So you can keep an eye on us sir," Dodd answered.

"Correct," Alex said. "It's not that you misbehave, but the fact is that you are the only two boys in this group whose performance in the summer exam was not up to the required standard. And that was because you didn't work hard enough. So now that I no longer have Parker to worry about, I can concentrate on making sure that you two get up to standard. You're perfectly capable as long as you put the work in, and I'm going to make sure you do. So if there is anything you don't understand, or can't do, you're to come and ask me about it. Is that understood?"

"Sir," the boys answered.

"Right, off you go!" Alex told them.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The first day of the new school year was finally over. As the boys made their way out, Alex pottered around in his classroom. Five minutes later, Stainham appeared.

"You wanted to see me sir?" he said, smiling provocatively.

"Yes, come and sit here," Alex replied, indicating the chair that he'd placed next to his own.

Half an hour later, Stainham left the room, his bum filled with his teacher's spunk. It was just the start Alex had been hoping for.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex didn't meet 1-Blue until the following morning. He looked them over. While none of them was absolutely stunning, there were half a dozen nice looking boys, any of whom he'd have been happy to fuck. With a seating plan made and textbooks issued, he gave them his introductory talk, setting out what he expected from them. As always, the boys gave him their full attention.

Finally, it was time to do some maths. Alex began by testing their mental arithmetic skills, much as he'd done with 1-Green the year before. After some basic stuff to get them going, he ratcheted things up a little.

"What do we mean by the sum of two numbers?" he asked.

A forest of hands flew up. Alex pointed to a boy sitting by the window, three rows from the front.

"What you get when you add them together," the lad answered.

"Well done!" Alex said, smiling. "And what do we mean by the product of two numbers?"

This time, rather fewer hands went up, though it still accounted for well over half the class. He pointed to another boy.

"What you get when you multiply them, sir."

"Excellent!" "Alex said. "So I'm thinking of two numbers whose sum is 10 and whose product is 24. What were the numbers?"

Almost every hand went up, a third boy providing the answer, 6 and 4.

Over the next few minutes, they went through several more examples, which became steadily more difficult.

"Sum 26, product 144?" Alex asked.

After a few seconds, a hand went up, soon followed by three others. He picked the third boy to put up his hand.

"18 and 8, sir," the lad told him.

"Does everyone agree?" Alex asked, looking at the other three.

The boys grinned and nodded. That was good, Alex considered. A year earlier, that was as far as anyone in 1-Green had been able to go, Carver, Newton and Grainger had all got that one, but had been unable to go any further.

"Well done!" he said warmly. "How about sum 29, product 208?"

In under ten seconds, the boy who'd been first to put up his hand in the previous question, raised it again. Alex waited. This time there were no others. He checked his seating plan: Bradshaw, Russell – slim, blond hair, blue eyes – one of the nice looking boys he'd picked out earlier.

"Well Bradshaw?" he asked.

"16 and 13 sir," Bradshaw responded.

Alex nodded sagely, wondering how much further the lad might be able to go.

"So what about sum 33, product 270?"

Bradshaw's hand was raised in an instant. Alex waited for several seconds to see if there were any other offers. There weren't. Alex nodded at his new star pupil.

"18 and 15 sir," the boy answered confidently.

Alex was impressed. Bradshaw's facility with numbers was quite exceptional. He gave him one more.

"Sum 40, product 364?" he offered.

This one took longer, but fifteen seconds later, Bradshaw's hand was up again.

"Well, young man?" Alex asked, smiling.

"26 and 14, sir."

"Excellent!" Alex said, smiling warmly. "Now can you explain to the other boys how you worked out that last answer."

"Well, sir," Bradshaw said, in a very ordinary, matter of fact voice. "Both the sum and the product are even, so both numbers must be even. If you look at pairs of even numbers that add up to 40, beginning in the middle, 20 times 20 is 400. The next pair is 22 and 18, but if you multiply them, it'll end in a 6. The next pair is 24 and 16. Multiplying them gives you a 4 at the end, but if you actually do it, 24 times 10 is 240 and 24 times 6 is 144. Adding them together gives 384, so that's not right. So it had to be the next pair, 26 and 14. 26 times 10 is 260 and 26 times 4 is 104. If you add them together, you get 364."

"Well done!" Alex said warmly. "I couldn't have explained it better than that."

In truth, he could hardly contain his excitement. Bradshaw was an outstanding talent, at least as good as Calladine, maybe even better. And he'd be teaching the lad. What a prospect that was!

"Okay everybody!" he said. "Looking at those pairs of number that add up to 40, as the numbers got further apart, what happened to the products?"

Several boys put up their hands. Alex pointed to one of them.

"They go down, sir."

"Well done!" Alex congratulated. "And if you keep going, the final pair will be 40 and zero, and what d'you get if you multiply those two?"

This time there was a forest of hands. Alex picked out another of the nice-looking lads.

"Zero sir!" the boy answered.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At morning break, Alex strolled into Neil Fleming's classroom.

"Good morning!" Neil greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"I seem to have a star pupil in my new First Year class."

"Name?"

"Bradshaw."

"Excellent! I hoped you'd pick him out, but I didn't expect it to happen so quickly."

"Oh, I started off giving them some mental arithmetic exercises, just orally, question and answer," Alex explained. "He was the best by some margin, and better than anyone I had last year. But you already knew he was special?"

"Oh, yes, in the entrance exam he scored one hundred per cent on the maths paper. It's the first time that's happened since I've been here."

"Oh, I see. I'm wondering what I ought to do with him."

"The first thing I want you to do is to have a chat with him," Neil said quietly. "We need to know the background. His primary school didn't tell us anything. Actually, boys from that school rarely do well on the mathematics paper, so that made it even more of a surprise. He may have had a parent or relative helping him, or maybe he had a tutor. If he has got someone helping him, we need to work together rather than being in competition."

"Fine," Alex said, smiling. "I'll do that."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Thursday. A couple of minutes after the bell went for the start of the lunch break, Bradshaw arrived at Alex's classroom.

"You told me to come and see you, sir," he said.

"Yes," Alex responded, indicating the chair by his desk. "Come and sit down."

Bradshaw sat down, looking expectantly at his new maths teacher.

"Mr Fleming, the Head of Mathematics, suggested I had a chat to you," Alex went on. "You were quite outstanding in those mental arithmetic exercises we did yesterday. I also understand from Mr Fleming that you did exceptionally well in the entrance examination. So let me ask you first of all, do you enjoy maths?"

"Oh, yes sir!" the lad responded, his enthusiasm shining through.

"Excellent! So has somebody been helping you?"

"Not really, sir. Mum says I must have got it from my dad. Maths was his subject."

The boy's use of the past tense caused alarm bells to ring in Alex's head.

"I don't want to be nosey," he said quietly, "but where's your dad now?"

"He was killed in a road accident when I was a baby," Bradshaw answered, looking at the floor.

"I'm very sorry," Alex said quietly. "I had no idea. So is it just you and your mum?"

"Yes sir. They'd only been married a couple of years when Dad got killed."

"I see. So didn't your teachers at junior school help you at all?"

"No sir! They seemed to think I was a nuisance."

Alex ground his teeth, wondering what people who classified a talented lad like Bradshaw as `a nuisance' were doing in the teaching profession. But he let it go.

"So how did you get to be as good as you are?" he asked.

"Well sir, when I'd finished the work the teachers at school gave me to do, I'd make up number games. And I got some books out of the library where Mum works."

"Your mum's a librarian?"

"Yes sir."

"Did she not help you at all?"

"Only with getting the books, sir. She's hopeless at maths. I'm better than she is. I've been working bills and stuff out for her since I was seven."

"I see," Alex said thoughtfully. "The reason I asked you to come here today is that Mr Fleming and I have to decide how best we can help you develop your talent. Now we could just teach you alongside the other boys. Boys from this school regularly go on to read maths at Cambridge, so there'd be nothing wrong in that.

Alternatively, I could teach you one-to-one. It would mean you'd have to give up some of your own time, either lunchtimes or after school. Then, during our normal classes, you'd just get on with the work I'd given you. That means you'd be working largely on your own, though I'd be there to help you if you got stuck. The important thing, if I'm going to do that, is that you have to want to do it."

Bradshaw's face lit up.

"Oh yes, sir!" he said, his eyes sparkling. "I'd love to! I've always liked maths but I've never had anyone to help me before."

"Right, before you go, I just need to find out what maths you've done. Have you done any algebra at all?"

"No sir."

"What about geometry?"

"I've done a bit sir. I know the angles of a triangle add up to one hundred and eighty degrees. But that's about all."

"Okay," Alex said, smiling. "I'll have a chat with Mr Fleming. I'll talk to you tomorrow, after class. Right! You'd better go and get your lunch."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With Friday afternoon classes at an end, the first week of term had been successfully negotiated. Everything had been arranged. Having rescheduled the 2-Green maths club for Wednesday lunchtimes, Alex would teach Bradshaw on Tuesdays and Fridays, the objective being for the lad to achieve a Grade 1 pass in Maths O-Level at the end of his second year.

He had not begun to consider whether Bradshaw was a boy he would attempt to seduce. The lad was certainly cute enough, and the frequent one-to-one contact would provide him with plenty of opportunities. But it was far too early for him to even think about it. In his view, it would be at least a month before he knew Bradshaw well enough to make even the most tentative of advances.

By that time, he might have found a lad from among the under-12 football squad, which still seemed the more likely source of a new, younger sex-partner. In the meantime, he was committed to helping Bradshaw develop his talent for mathematics, and that was what he would do.

His other commitment was Under-12 football training. Beginning the following week, it would take place after school on Wednesdays. Accordingly, he'd arranged to entertain Stainham after school on Tuesdays and Whitney on Thursdays. That meant he'd see each of them immediately after their games class. It was an arrangement he was very happy with. Not only would the boys arrive at his classroom after everyone else had left that part of the building, there was, he'd found, something particularly appealing about the smell of freshly scrubbed boy.

After gathering his things, he headed out of school, looking forward to the weekend. Whitney was due to visit him on Saturday afternoon, Stainham on Sunday. Having spent a pleasantly relaxed time with each of them, he'd fuck them into near-oblivion. And with Holdsworth and the others about to return to their boarding schools, the following weekend would offer even more exciting prospects.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

On Saturday morning, having read the paper and done some shopping, Alex returned to the flat. Whitney was due to arrive at two o'clock. That left him with three hours to kill. Suddenly, the telephone rang. He picked up the receiver.

"Hello, it's Martin," the young choirmaster said. "I hoped I'd catch you."

"Good to hear from you," Alex replied. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's about Noel," Martin said. "He was here last night, the same as he's been every Friday. I had to tell him I wouldn't be able to bring him back here during the week. It's too risky. Someone might see him. He was very disappointed, especially when I told him I didn't have anywhere else I could take him. Then he said, `Why can't we go back to Mr White's place? That'd be okay. I feel safe there.' I hate asking you like this, but I promised I would. I'm sorry."

"You usually see him on Tuesdays, don't you? That's no good for me. I rehearse with the choral society on Tuesday evenings."

"Oh, that's all right. I have to sleep in the boarding house on Tuesdays. My night off is on Wednesday."

"Well, that'd be okay. Bring him round. What sort of time will it be?"

"I'm picking him up at eight o'clock."

"I'll probably be working. It doesn't matter. I'll just leave you to get on with it."

"Thanks," Martin said. "I really appreciate it. I didn't want to cut him down to one night a week. I was worried he might drift away if I did that. And you can have sex with him afterwards if you want. You won't have to pay him. I'll deal with it."

"Has he said that's okay?"

"Not exactly. I'll have to ask him. But I'm sure it'll be alright. He definitely likes you."

"Well, I appreciate the offer, but only if he wants to do it. I'm helping you out because you're trying to give him a chance, not because it's an easy way to get into his pants. So I don't want him thinking he has to do it."

"Yes, I understand," Martin said apologetically. "Sorry, I was getting ahead of myself. How has your first week gone?"

"Very well, thanks!"

"Any interesting prospects among your new First Years?"

"It's a bit early to say," Alex said cautiously. "Ask me in a month or so. I should have a better idea by then."

"Right, I'd better let you go. We'll see you on Wednesday evening."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex's weekend passed off exactly as he'd expected After having sex with one of the boys in the afternoon, he'd spent the evenings with Joanne, acting the part of dutiful boyfriend. It wasn't difficult. Not only did they enjoy each other's company, she was as dedicated a teacher as he was, and seemed in no hurry for their relationship to become more serious.

On Monday morning, he was back at school. He took 1-Blue the period before morning break. Towards the end of the class, he called them to order.

"As some of you may know, this year I'll be taking the under-12 football team. Just out of interest, would you put your hand up if you intend to come to the trials."

Eleven hands were raised. He was surprised to see that Bradshaw's was one of them. The maths genius, it appeared, also thought of himself as a footballer. It was a bonus he hadn't expected. And the lad had to be a competent player, he reasoned. An intelligent boy like Bradshaw wouldn't bother coming to the trials if he wasn't.

"Hmmm!" he said thoughtfully. "That's quite a few. If we get that number from each form, we'd have forty-four, which is far too many. You're all welcome to come along and show us what you can do, but I'm afraid some of you won't make it to the training squad, let alone the team."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Ten minutes before the end of the lunch break, Alex strode across to the pavilion and changed into his football kit. Leaving the staff changing room, he popped his head into the first changing room on the left. As expected, the boys of 1-Blue were in the middle of getting into their games kit.

He glanced around. As the boys weren't allowed to wear underpants for games or gym, there were a couple of little cocks on display, but they were attached to boys who weren't in the least bit cute. He'd have to wait until afterwards. That's when he'd get the real show.

"Okay boys," he announced. "As soon as you're ready, make your way outside, run one clockwise circuit of the field, then line up with the rest of the form."

He stepped outside just as Richard Needham appeared.

"Prompt as always," the games master greeted. "For the first couple of weeks, we keep them in their forms until we've sorted them out. I understand you teach 1-Blue?"

"That's right," Alex confirmed.

"Good! I've put you with them for the first two weeks. Tim Ansell teaches 1-White, so he'll be with them. Gerry will take 1-Green," he added, referring to Gerry Forbes, the assistant games master. "I'll have 1-Red."

Fifteen minutes later, all the boys had completed a circuit of the field. Mr Needham announced who would be taking which form, and the class began. Working with 1-Blue, Alex began with some skills practice. The boys ranged in ability from the very good to the absolutely hopeless.

Although he'd known beforehand that it was bound to be like that, seeing it for the first time, the difference in standard between the best and the worst came as a shock. He tried to help some of the weaker boys, but it was futile. Their limbs simply wouldn't perform in the manner required. But he'd been right about Bradshaw, who was both agile and skilful.

For the last fifty minutes, they played a game. It was sixteen a side, but as at least eight boys trotted round trying to avoid the ball, it hardly mattered. Once again, Bradshaw performed well. Although just four feet nine and fairly slim, he was more than a match for any of the bigger lads. It seemed that there was every chance that he would make the school team.

At half past three, the class was over and they returned to the pavilion. Alex would have liked to position himself near the showers, where he'd be able to view all the boys, but he knew that Richard Needham would be there. Instead, he decided to supervise 1-Blue.

"Okay, boys!" he announced, following them into their changing room. "Strip right off. Then go through to the showers, taking your towel with you."

This was a new experience for most of the boys. While some were clearly reluctant to strip naked in front of their classmates, others seemed to relish the idea. Among them was Bradshaw, who was soon as naked as the day he was born.

Alex licked his lips. The lad looked far better out of his clothes than he did in them, his slim uncut penis and marble-sized balls hinting at the onset of puberty. Picking up his towel, Bradshaw trotted towards the showers. Alex was mesmerised. The youngster's bottom was absolute perfection. He'd be a wonderful fuck.

But he mustn't get too excited, Alex told himself. The fact that the boy was comfortable being naked meant absolutely nothing. Bradshaw had shown not the slightest sign of becoming aroused. The waiting game would have to continue. First, he needed to get to know the lad, and that would take time. Only if he was sure that Bradshaw was amenable to being seduced would he set the wheels in motion.

With Bradshaw out of sight, Alex patrolled the changing room, chivvying along the slower and more reluctant boys. He was rewarded with a delightful parade of naked boy-flesh, heading to and returning from the showers.

He knew it wasn't as good as the show that Richard Needham would be getting from his vantage point in the drying area, but he wasn't complaining. Half a loaf, or in this case a quarter of it, was far preferable to no bread at all.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Up in his bedroom, Michael changed out of his school uniform, dressing just in gym shorts and a t-shirt. Jez was due to arrive within the next ten minutes. He was becoming aroused just thinking about it. Eager to pass the time, he took everything out of his bag, carefully arranging the contents on his desk, ready for him to do his homework.

The doorbell rang. He hurried downstairs to answer it. As expected, Jez was standing in the porch. Michael knew straightaway that something wasn't right. Ushering his friend inside, he led the way up to his bedroom. He sat on the side of his bed, indicating for the older boy to sit down next to him.

"Jez," he asked. "What's wrong?"

"We're moving!" the teenager answered, clearly on the verge of tears.

"Moving?" Michael questioned.

"Yeah, leaving, moving away!"

"Wow! I'm really sorry! So where are you going?"

"Somewhere near Birmingham. Dad's got a new job. He's already started. He's not just a toolsetter anymore; he's a production foreman, working for a company that makes parts for the motor industry. He says that's where it's all concentrated, around the Birmingham area. He says for people like us, there are far more opportunities up there than there are round here. And that's why we never had any money. They were saving every penny for the deposit on a house. We've never had our own house before. Dad says it's a nice house in a much better area. Glen and I will have our own rooms."

"So when did you find out?"

"Saturday evening. Last Monday, Mum told us `Dad's working away this week. He'll be back at the weekend.' I thought it was a bit odd, but I wasn't going to argue with her. So on Saturday, after we'd had tea, he told us. I couldn't believe it. He said they hadn't told us before because they knew we'd try to talk them out of it."

"Would you?"

"Probably. Glen certainly would. He's really upset. He's going to be leaving his mates, everything! Worse than that, he's just got a girlfriend. He'll have to leave her too, start all over again, somewhere we don't even know."

"You will too."

"Oh, I'll be alright," Jez said, his voice tinged with resignation. "I make friends easily. I always have. But I'm going to miss you and Chris. Meeting you has changed my life. I sort of knew there had to be other boys who felt like I did, but I'd never actually met one. Then you came along."

"Chris and I aren't the only ones, you know. There are boys like us everywhere. That's what my uncle says."

"Yeah," Jez answered, "but it's meeting them, isn't it? Everyone has to keep so quiet about it."

"Yeah. That's hard! I guess you'll just have to be patient. I'm sure you'll find somebody."

"I hope so. I don't think I'll find anyone who'll open my eyes the way you did though."

"So when are you going?" Michael asked.

"End of this month, as soon as the house is ready. Dad says he tried to fix it so we'd be there before school started, but there was a delay with getting the house. So for the next few weeks, he'll be living in digs during the week, just coming home at the weekends. It won't make much difference. We don't see that much of him anyway. He says it'll be different once we get settled in. He says everything's better there. We'll be going to a better school. We'll have more money. And we'll be together, like a proper family."

"It's going to be a big new adventure for you," Michael said, doing his best to support his friend. "You'll do well. I know you will. I'm going to miss you though. Chris will too."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Does Chris know?"

"No, I saw him on Saturday afternoon. Afterwards, when I went home. I was on top of the world. I thought life couldn't get any better. Then this happens. Saturday night I cried my eyes out. The worst part was that I couldn't tell anyone why."

"D'you want me to tell him?"

"No thanks. I'd rather he heard it from me."

"Well, Mr Taylor," Michael said, snuggling closer. "As we won't have much more time together, I think we ought to make the most of it."

"Sure!" Jez responded.

He placed his hand on Michael's thigh, steadily pushing his fingers up into the younger boy's shorts.

"Wow!" he breathed. "You've got no underpants on! Does that mean you want me to . . . you know, with your shorts on?"

"What do you think?" Michael answered, a broad grin on his face.

"Fair enough," Jez said, smiling back. He pushed up the hem of Michael's shorts, enabling him to extract the lad's rock-hard penis. "But I want some of this first."

Placing his thumb and forefinger around the base, he leaned over, eagerly taking it into his mouth.