THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

Hi everybody! Here we are again with another new chapter; read on and enjoy!

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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

May 1961

After school on Tuesday, Alex made his way to the pavilion. As they had the previous year, Woodchurch was hosting an athletics match involving three other schools. Despite Alex's difficult relationship with games master Richard Needham, he had been put down to be one of the timekeepers, though it had been more of an order than a request. It wasn't a total surprise. After all, he wouldn't be able to get up to anything untoward while out on the field holding a stopwatch.

At this time on a Tuesday Alex usually had a tutorial with Bradshaw, with a little session in the storeroom to follow. But as the boy was taking part in the match, they had moved the tutorial to lunchtime and foregone the subsequent frolics.

The match began at twenty past four. On a warm, sunny afternoon, surrounded by boys dressed only in their athletics kit, there were far worse things he could have been doing, Alex decided.

They began with the hurdles races. Competing in the race for fourth and fifth year boys was Jonathan Archer, who had been the star of Alex's under-15 football team the year before. Archer had grown quite a bit since he'd competed in the same race twelve months earlier, and whereas on that occasion he'd struggled, clipping several hurdles, this time around he ran superbly, winning the race comfortably. The sad thing was, Alex reflected, that he no longer fancied the lad.

And so the match continued. In between races, Alex noticed fourth-year Troy Stainham taking part in the high jump. Although competing against boys a year older and much taller than he was, he appeared to be doing very well. Alex allowed himself a smile. He liked Stainham and admired the boy's spirit.

They reached the two-hundred metre races, which began on the top bend, the part of the track furthest from the finish. As the first-year boys prepared for the start, Alex noticed that Samuel Okikiolu would be running, the boy's coal-black skin contrasting sharply with his white athletics kit. The boys were called to the start, moved to the `set' position, the starting pistol sounded, and they were away.

Alex was spellbound. With his long raking stride, Okikiolu simply ate up the ground, looking absolutely magnificent. If ever a boy epitomised the phrase `poetry in motion', he was surely the one. Winning the race by fully twenty yards, he set a new school record of 24.7 seconds.

Alex felt his penis begin to stiffen. He gave himself a mental kick. He was having sex with lots of cute boys, more than he'd ever expected. So why did he have to become fixated on a lad who was surely out of reach?

After the two-hundred metre races, they moved onto the fifteen hundred metres, the last set of races before the sprint relays. Alex found that he knew almost all of the Woodchurch representatives. In the first year's race, Bradshaw and Thorpe were running.

Alex expected Bradshaw to dominate the race right from the start. Instead, he ran on the leader's shoulder for two laps before picking up the pace and running away from the other boys. He recorded a time of five minutes and three seconds, which was good but not exceptional. Alex was puzzled by the boy's tactics. The lad was clearly capable of running much faster.

In the race for second and third years, Ferris and Newton were running. This was quite different. Ferris hit the front immediately, taking Newton with him, the two of them leaving the other boys trailing behind. Aware of Newton's finishing speed, Alex wondered how the race would play out.

As they began their last lap, the boys were still together, but Ferris then set off on a long run for home, which his younger teammate was unable to match. Finishing first and second, both boys recorded times of well under five minutes. Finally, it was the race for fourth and fifth years. Chandler, who had won the corresponding race as a fourth year, repeated the feat with consummate ease.

After the relays, Alex strolled back to the pavilion. As he entered the home team's changing room, he was surprised to see Newton and Ferris emerging from the shower. Having never seen Ferris naked before, he was not going to miss this unexpected opportunity. The fourteen-year old's flaccid prick was exactly as Newton had described it, the same length as Whitney's, but thicker, and looked most impressive on the slim, leggy teenager.

Newton, by contrast, was quite modestly endowed, Alex estimating that the lad's slim penis, when fully erect, would extend to little more than four and a half inches. As he made his way out, Alex licked his lips, imagining the younger boy's sheer delight as Ferris's large cock stimulated his sex-gland.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Saturday morning. For Michael, it had been a good week. His schoolwork was going well. He'd become more confident. Previously, he'd relied on Chris to set the standard and explain things he didn't understand. He'd now reached the point where he could sort most things out for himself, with a little occasional help from his uncle Jack.

And he hadn't lost Chris completely. At school, they still went around together. In the few weeks after the break-up, Michael had found that hard, but he'd got through it, to the point that once again he felt relaxed in his ex-boyfriend's company. As far as anyone else knew, they were friends just as they'd been for more than a year.

Michael no longer visited Chris's house, but that no longer seemed to matter. His busy sex-life had more than filled the void. As far as he was concerned, it could hardly have been better. The fact that he and Tom Pennington were only sex-buddies no longer bothered him. In fact, it had a big advantage. Apart from his uncle, all his sex-partners knew he was having sex with other people, and none of them minded one bit.

Saturdays were invariably the highlight of his week, and if all went to plan, this one was going to be extra-special. Tom had positively jumped at his suggestion that they should meet that morning, while later in the day, he'd go to Mr Faulkner's flat. Mr Brown was due to visit, in the company of yet another new boy. From what his form master had told him, the lad had just turned thirteen, but was quite small for his age, very cute, and had only previously been with Arrowsmith and Mr Brown. That meant the kid's bum-hole would be tight but definitely fuckable, Michael reasoned. He could hardly wait to meet him.

All he had to do was to finalise the arrangements with his uncle, who'd said he'd call between nine and half past. It wasn't that important, Michael told himself. He and Tom would have sex in the woods just as they had the week before, but it would be such a turn-on if his uncle was there watching them.

At ten past nine, the telephone rang. Michael's mother bustled out into the hall to answer it. A minute later, she returned to the lounge.

"It's for you, dear," she said, smiling. "It's your Uncle Jack. He wants to know about this homework you've asked him to explain to you."

Michael strolled into the hall and picked up the receiver.

"Hello," he said nervously. "Thanks for calling."

"Well," Jack asked. "Is it on?"

"Yes," Michael said quietly, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. "We're meeting by the bus stop at half past ten."

"Right. I'll get to the park a few minutes earlier. I'll make sure I'm in position before you get there."

"Okay, thanks!"

Michael put down the telephone. He'd done it now. There was no going back. He just had to hope that Tom wouldn't realise they were being watched. And what would happen afterwards? His uncle had downplayed the idea that he might actually do anything, but when he saw how cute Tom was, and how much the boy loved taking it up his bum, would he be able to resist the temptation?

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Having parked his car, Jack made his way to the den and through into the viewing space. He checked his watch. It was 10:35. From the bus stop, it would take the boys ten minutes to reach the den, maybe a little longer. They'd been due to meet at half past, which meant he'd have to wait for at least five minutes.

The time passed slowly, the cramped nature of the viewing space making it drag even more. Finally, he heard voices. At first, they were too faint for him to hear them properly. It could have been someone on the path. As they came closer, he recognised Michael's voice, quite deep for a thirteen-year old, with a cracked quality that signified that it was still in the process of breaking. The other voice was higher and lighter, definitely that of a younger boy, Jack noted, but with a slight huskiness, indicating that it too was about to change.

Moments later, the boys appeared in the den. They seemed totally unaware of his presence. Jack licked his lips. At five feet tall and slim without being skinny, Tom was even cuter than he'd expected. With the lads standing sideways on to him, shorts and underpants were quickly pushed down, tee-shirts pulled up. Jack's eyes widened. Divested of his clothes, Tom was truly stunning, his legs and body silky-smooth, his slim, uncut, four-and-a-half-inch cock absolute perfection.

Michael knelt down, taking it into his mouth. He sucked it expertly, his fingers reaching up to stroke his younger friend's perineum. Jack took out his penis, stroking it gently, the action becoming hotter by the second.

After a couple of minutes, the boys swapped over. Tom was an enthusiastic cock-sucker too, Jack noted, the lad repeatedly burying his nose in Michael's neat crop of pubic hair.

"Okay," Michael said quietly. "You'd better stop now."

Tom carefully let him go, the teenager's prick glistening in the sunlight. Without waiting to be asked, the younger lad shuffled around and bent over, resting his hands on the bank in front of him, just as Michael had done six days earlier.

Michael knelt down behind him. Prising the twelve-year old's bum-cheeks apart, he began to lick the boy's anus. Jack was shocked. He considered such activity to be gross and had told Michael so. Despite that, he found the sight of his nephew working his tongue into the younger boy's bum-hole very erotic.

"Mmmmmm!" Tom purred. "Oh yes! I want your cock now!"

Pulling away, Michael took a tube of what Jack presumed to be some sort of jelly from the pocket of his shorts, squeezing some onto his fingers. For Jack, this was another surprise. He and Michael had always used Vaseline. He had no idea what this jelly was or where his nephew would have obtained it. He guessed that Michael must have learned about it during his association with Mr Faulkner.

As he watched, Michael inserted his index finger into Tom's bottom, the middle one quickly joining it. After a brief finger-fuck, both digits slid out. Jack realised what was about to happen, his eyes riveted to the action unfolding before him.

He was not disappointed. Getting to his feet, Michael moved in close, guiding his teen-cock onto the younger lad's rosebud. Jack looked on transfixed as his nephew's prick slowly disappeared into the twelve-year old's bottom.

"Come on, Mike!" Tom urged "Fuck me! Give me your spunk!"

Jack was astonished. Tom hadn't just submitted to being fucked, he'd actively encouraged it. And Michael, he noted, was more than equal to the task, his penis pounding in and out of his younger friend's bottom.

"Oh! That's super!" Tom moaned. "Play with my cock! Please Mike!"

"Not today," Michael responded in between breaths. "When I've finished I'm going to suck you off."

Redoubling his efforts, he fucked the lad even harder.

"Ohhh!" he gasped, his orgasm sweeping over him. "Oh, I'm going to cum!"

"Yes!" Tom demanded. "Do it! Shoot your spunk up my bum!"

Jack could hardly contain himself. He'd come to watch, certain that he wouldn't actually do anything, but he hadn't expected to witness anything like this. The twelve-year old was begging for it! While his head told him that he ought to stick to his original plan, his penis dictated otherwise.

Gripping Tom around the thighs, Michael slammed right in, his balls churning into action. That, Jack realised, was the signal. If he was going to do this, it was time to go. As his nephew pumped his semen into the younger boy's bottom, he moved quickly and quietly towards the den.

As his climax subsided, Michael was in a daze, gasping for breath. He no longer cared whether Jack had been watching or not. It had been an unbelievable fuck. Suddenly, he remembered the next part of the plan. Silently, he began to count. He'd reached `seven' when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

There was no time for misgivings, no time for second thoughts. Having carefully pulled out, he stepped to one side. Jack's trousers and underpants were down around his ankles, the man's penis primed for action.

As Tom tried to stand up, Jack placed his hand on the lad's back, returning him to his previous position.

"Keep still and don't look round," he said firmly.

A moment later his cock speared into the twelve-year old's bum.

"Ohhhh!" Tom protested, shocked to have his anal ring stretched a little further than Michael's penis had just managed.

"And keep quiet!" Jack ordered.

Tom was scared and out of his wits. Right out of the blue, he was being fucked by someone he'd never even seen. But who was it? It was a man, certainly, the voice told him that, but who, and how had he got here?

He was confused too. The man's penis was nothing exceptional, maybe not even as big as Mr Faulkner's. He still hadn't cum and the physical stimulation the man was giving him was nigh-on perfect.

"You've got a lovely tight little bum, haven't you Tom?" Jack half-whispered. "And you love taking your friend's cock, don't you? Well now you've got mine, and I'm going to give you a proper fucking!"

Tom didn't respond. He couldn't, the conflicting emotions driving him almost insane. Moments later, the man's fingers slid lengthways down his throbbing prick. The result was as swift as it was predictable. Almost in spite of himself, Tom's penis jerked into life, little jets of boy-cum spurting into the man's palm.

"Oh yes!" Jack crowed. "You love this! Now take my spunk, you sexy boy!"

Holding on with his left hand, he drove in deep, pumping three volleys of creamy fluid into the youngster's bottom. As his orgasm subsided, he removed his right hand from Tom's prick. Bringing it up to his mouth, he licked up the lad's watery ejaculate.

"Mmmm!" he enthused. "You make lovely clear spunk too!"

With that, he pulled out. Once again, Tom tried to stand up, only for the man's hand to push him back down. Tom was scared again. Maybe this wasn't over. Could there be other men there waiting to fuck him?

Having pulled up his underpants and trousers, Jack nodded at Michael and hurried from the den. It had been the wildest thing he'd ever done. Even if he never did anything like it again, it had provided him with the best wanking fuel possible. Nothing could ever be as hot as that had been.

"It's okay, he's gone now," Michael said, trying to sound as shocked as Tom had obviously been. That wasn't easy, as watching his uncle in action had given him a raging hard-on.

Very gingerly, Tom stood up and turned around. He looked distraught, which was not at all what Michael had expected.

"What happened?" Tom asked, clearly upset by what had just occurred.

"I don't know," Michael answered. "I'd just pulled out when he grabbed me. Pushed me to one side and put his finger to his lips, like he was telling me to be quiet. Then he just did it. There was nothing I could do. Sorry."

"Who was he?"

"Dunno, I've never seen him before. I'd say he was between forty and fifty, dark hair starting to go grey. That's about all I can tell you. I didn't dare shout out. We couldn't risk someone finding us, . . . you know. We'd have both been in loads of trouble."

Tom was not convinced, somehow sensing that Michael was being less than honest with him. He wasn't going to argue though. He'd absolutely no proof. They'd end up having a shouting match and what good would that do? But he wouldn't forget it either. Without so much as a `by your leave', he'd just had his bum fucked by a complete stranger. That wasn't right!

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Less than three hours later, Michael rode his bike towards his form master's flat, still trying to understand Tom's reaction to what had happened out in the woods. It didn't make sense. Tom loved taking it up the bum, so that wasn't the problem. And his uncle's cock was only the same length as Mr Faulkner's, but not quite as thick, so that couldn't have been the problem either.

And it wasn't that Tom didn't like being fucked twice in quick succession. On one occasion, he and Holdsworth had taken turns on him. He hadn't objected at all. In addition, there were all those times when they'd been at Mr Faulkner's flat. He'd fucked Tom first, only for Mr Faulkner to do it a few minutes later.

And in one way, he clearly had enjoyed it. He'd cum while he was being fucked, hadn't he? Surely that meant that he liked it? But afterwards, he was really upset, absolutely not what Michael had intended. The teenager simply couldn't work out why.

But it wasn't important. Nobody had got hurt, not really. Okay, he couldn't do it again, but the fact was that he'd put a plan together and it had worked like a charm. His ever-so-cautious uncle hadn't been able to resist, so he'd finally got to see the man fucking another boy. What a turn-on that had been! So how would his uncle react? Would it finally make him a little more adventurous? That, Michael realised, might be too much to hope for.

Arriving at his destination, Michael locked his bike, made his way inside, trotted up the stairs and rang the bell. Moments later the door swung open.

"Good to see you!" Alex greeted, ushering him inside. "You're looking very pleased with life. Anything in particular?"

"Not really, sir. I guess I've had a good week."

"Fair enough! Looking forward to this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir." He paused. "Sir, if Highfield's really cute, why didn't Mr Brown go with him before?"

"Apparently, he used to be quite prudish. He never checked out the other boys. He didn't like other people seeing him naked, that sort of thing. Mr Brown didn't dare to try anything. Neither would I, for that matter. So he got a big surprise a couple of weeks ago when he looked into their dorm one night and found the lad lying on his tummy with Arrowsmith giving him a good seeing-to."

"That's quite a change, isn't it, sir?"

"Yes, but it does happen occasionally, once the hormones start flowing."

"I guess Mr Brown took advantage of the situation?"

"Well, you could say that, I suppose. But he had to talk to the lad, to make sure that Arrowsmith hadn't forced him into it, which he hadn't, of course. So he just took it from there. I understand it wasn't difficult."

"And he wants us to get Highfield ready for when he goes to his senior school. That's a bit rough, isn't it?"

"Not at all. If the lad's as nice-looking as I've been told, he'd automatically become a target when he got to public school. Mr Brown's doing him a service. He'll have the school's head of music and one of the senior prefects to look after him, which is far better than being treated as the school slut."

"Yes sir. I hadn't thought of that."

"No reason why you should. It's a different world from what you're used to."

At five to two, the doorbell rang. Alex went to answer it. He returned seconds later with Mr Brown and a boy who was around the same size as Bradshaw, but prettier. With silky fair hair, bright blue eyes, a perfect peaches-and-cream complexion and an engaging smile, not only was he very cute, he looked at least a year younger than he was. Michael understood immediately why the older boys at his senior school would want to have sex with him.

After the usual introductions, Alex took Mr Brown into the kitchen. Michael and Highfield sat down on the sofa.

"So you're quite new to this?" Michael enquired.

"Yeah," Highfield answered, giving him a wry grin. "I used to be a real goody-goody. I didn't have the slightest interest in sex. I thought it was dirty. That all changed around Christmas time. We were in the showers after games. I noticed some of the bigger boys, the rugby players. They had big cocks with hair round them. I'd never looked at the other boys' dicks before. Suddenly, I couldn't take my eyes off them. Within a few seconds, I'd got a hard-on. I was really scared. I didn't know what was happening to me."

"So how did you get together with Arrowsmith?"

"Well, we work together quite a bit. He accompanies me while I'm playing the violin. He's really good. He'd noticed me in the showers. He explained it to me, told me that I was growing up and it was all quite natural. He said not to worry about it."

"He didn't make you do anything, did he?"

"Oh no! We never did anything for weeks, just talked. He was so patient and gentle. In the end, I wanted him to."

"I've only met him a couple of times," Michael countered. "I thought he was a bit full of himself."

"Oh, he can come across like that," Highfield conceded, "but I know him better than most. He's never like that with me."

"So is he your boyfriend then?"

"Sort of, I guess. He still fucks Long and Jessop though. It's okay; I don't mind."

"And how d'you feel about starting at public school?"

"I was pretty scared when Mr Brown told me about the older boys wanting to have sex with me, but it's okay, now I know that I'll have people to look after me. I met Mr Temple, the head of music, when I went for my audition. He's really nice, and he'll find me an older friend, one of the prefects. Actually, I'd like to find a dorm-mate too but I'll have to do that myself."

"D'you think you will?"

"It depends if there's someone nice in my dorm who's interested." He lowered his voice. "Arrowsmith says yours is bigger than Mr Brown's."

"It's about as thick as Mr Brown's, but longer."

"Wow!"

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Having ushered his associate into the kitchen, Alex closed the door.

"I think we ought to alter the routine a bit," he suggested, putting the kettle on.

"Really?" Martin queried. "In what way?"

"I think we should let Whitney and Highfield undress each other."

"Hmmm! It's not what I normally do," Martin said, sounding somewhat put out.

"I know," Alex conceded, "but you've undressed Whitney any number of times. Surely, one time more or less won't make any difference. I just think Highfield will be more comfortable with Whitney than he would be with me. He's obviously nervous."

"Well, okay, if you think it'll be better. You'll still fuck Highfield afterwards, won't you?"

"Yes, assuming he takes Whitney's okay. There's no rush. We've got weeks to get him ready."

With the kettle boiled and tea made, they returned from the lounge.

"I see you two are getting along well," Alex commented, noting that both lads were already aroused. "Would you like a drink?"

The boys looked at each other. "No thanks," Michael said, smiling. "We're fine."

A few minutes later, they made their way to the bedroom. Alex put his hand on Whitney's shoulder.

"A bit of a change today," he whispered. "I want you and Highfield to undress each other. Mr Brown and I will just watch."

Michael grinned and nodded. This was a bonus he hadn't expected. As the teachers settled into their chairs, he took Highfield by the hand.

"Shoes and socks off first," he said quietly, guiding the lad to sit on the bed.

They quickly pulled off their footwear. "What now?" Highfield asked.

"I think this comes off next," Michael said gently, lifting the hem of his new friend's white polo shirt.

Highfield allowed him to remove it completely. Michael breathed in sharply. The lad had a beautiful little body. "Would you like to do mine?" he asked, smiling.

Highfield didn't hesitate, eagerly divesting Whitney of his tee-shirt. Standing up, they removed each other's shorts, leaving them just in their skimpy white briefs. Michael quickly sat down again. Reaching across, he eased the elastic waistband away from Highfield's stomach before skinning the boy's underpants right down to his ankles.

He licked his lips. Highfield's stiff cock was almost identical to Bradshaw's, except that the foreskin was longer, completely covering the tip. Easing it back to expose the lad's pee-hole, Michael took the lad's boyhood into his mouth, sucking it right down to the root. Slipping his hand between the smaller boy's thighs, he began to stroke the boy's perineum.

"Ooooh!" Highfield exhaled. "That feels super!"

Very slowly, Michael moved his fingers back until he was touching the boy's rosebud. It seemed pretty tight. Uncertain how readily it would open up for him, he eased himself away.

"Would you like to do me now?" he asked, looking up and smiling.

"Sure!" Highfield agreed.

The boys swapped places. Moments later, Michael's briefs were around his ankles.

"It's really long, isn't it?" Highfield observed, running his fingers along Michael's prick.

"Yeah. One of my friends says it's like a telegraph pole."

Highfield took it into his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, getting about halfway down. Michael stood completely still, making no attempt to get the lad to take more. He gently stroked the smaller boy's hair, enjoying the mild tingling in his penis, reminding himself that his target lay elsewhere.

"Okay," he said quietly. "You can stop now."

"Was that okay?" Highfield asked, letting him go.

"Yes," Michael assured him. "It was nice. Let's get on the bed."

They snuggled up, Michael drawing his new friend into a passionate kiss.

"D'you and Arrowsmith do sixty-nines?" he asked.

"Yeah!"

"Want to try one?"

"Sure!"

They quickly moved into position, lying on their sides, but the height difference made it awkward, Highfield unable to get much beyond the head of Michael's penis. Once again, Michael put his hand between his new friend's legs, gently stimulating the boy's starfish. Having squeezed some K-Y onto his fingers, he carefully inserted one into the lad's anus.

It confirmed what he'd already suspected. Though not as tight as Long, Highfield's bottom lacked the pliability of Jessop's or Van Kerkstraat's, the lad's sphincter muscle seeming that much stronger. After giving the boy a gentle finger-fucking, he allowed his digit to slide out.

"Okay," he instructed. "Stand up, bend over and rest your hands on the bed. I want to lick you out."

With the lad in position, Michael knelt down behind, his tongue lapping at the boy's anal ring.

"Mmmm!" Highfield purred. "That feels lovely!"

Michael grimaced. From his point of view, it had proved to be a fruitless exercise. He was getting nowhere. He knew that Mr Brown had fucked the lad a few times but wasn't at all sure how the man had managed it. He went back to his fingers, fucking the boy first with one, then with two, twisting them around to open the lad up. Finally, he let them slip out.

"Okay," he said quietly. "Kneel on the bed, down on all fours, feet over the end."

Highfield quickly did as he was asked.

"Right, now push your bum right back," Michael instructed.

Once again, Highfield complied, Michael adjusting the lad's position slightly to ensure that his rosebud was at exactly the right height.

"That's good!" Michael said, smearing K-Y over his penis. "Now lower your head and shoulders."

Moving in close, Michael guided his cock onto the lad's starfish.

"Now push out, like you're having a crap," he said firmly.

Holding his prick around the base, Michael pushed hard. Initially, he met stern resistance, but suddenly the boy's rosebud opened up, his cockhead spearing into the lad's anus.

"Ohhhh!" Highfield protested.

"Just relax," Michael said soothingly. "Get used to me being there."

He held position for well over twenty seconds.

"Are you ready for a bit more?" he asked finally.

Very slowly, Michael pushed forwards, his penis advancing steadily into the lad's tight, velvety tunnel. Highfield whimpered quietly, the lad's discomfort quite obvious to his watching host. After a couple of seconds, Michael thrust over his new friend's prostate.

"Ohhh!" Highfield gasped, his penis twitching and tingling of its own accord.

It came as a relief. He knew from experience that this was when the good part began. From this point, the pain would gradually be overcome by those intensely pleasurable feelings that both Arrowsmith and Mr Brown had given him.

Moments later, he became aware that Whitney's cock was fully inside him, the bigger lad's beautifully flat stomach pressed tight against his bottom.

"Uugghh!" he panted. "I can understand why your friend says it's like telegraph pole."

Very slowly, the bigger lad's penis slid back out until only the head remained inside. It then thrust in again, driving over his sex-gland on its way through. On it went, out, in, out, in, the sensations quite indescribable.

With his hands around the top of Highfield's thighs, Michael began quite slowly, the lad's anal ring gripping him like a vice. Gradually, the pressure began to ease, allowing him to move more fluidly. Over the next couple of minutes, the pace increased steadily. Finally, he hit his stride, his cock pounding relentlessly into the lad's bottom. From there, it took barely a minute. The muscle spasms began right down by his toes, sweeping upwards like a tidal wave.

"Oh fuck!" he gasped, scarcely able to breathe. "I'm going to cum!"

By pure instinct, he thrust in as deep as he could. As he hung onto Highfield's thighs, his balls churned into action, teen spunk surging through his cock before spurting powerfully into the boy's rectum. Finally, it was over. Michael was so light-headed, it was all he could do to stay upright. As the room came back into focus, he carefully pulled out, a totally spent force.

Alex could have continued with the plan, but his mind was made up. Despite what he'd been told, Highfield had struggled to take Whitney's penis. The lad wasn't ready for anything larger, and that was the end of the matter. He put his hand on Whitney's shoulder.

"Suck him off, there's a good boy."

Michael was surprised, but he wasn't going to argue. He knelt down by the side of the bed. "Turn around this way!" he instructed.

As Highfield turned to his left, he saw Whitney grinning at him.

"Fuck my mouth!" the bigger lad said.

Desperate to cum, Highfield didn't need to be asked twice. Shuffling forwards, he guided his prick between Whitney's lips and set to work, thrusting his hips back and forth. It took barely twenty seconds, little drops of boy-juice coating his taller friend's tongue.

"Very good!" Alex said approvingly, smiling at his young guest. "Grab your clothes. I'll show you where the bathroom is." Scooping up his own clothes, he turned to Mr Brown. "I'll leave you to it. I'll be in the lounge when you've finished."

He quickly shepherded Highfield into the bathroom, the lad immediately sitting on the toilet.

"I'm running a bath for you," Alex said gently, turning on the hot tap. "Take your time; there's no rush."

"I thought you were going to fuck me, sir," Highfield responded as he let Whitney's spunk run into the bowl.

"That was the plan, but it seemed quite clear to me that you weren't ready."

"No sir. Thank you, sir."

"So how often has Mr Brown fucked you?"

"Three times, sir."

"Really? I was given the impression it was more than that. I guess he's been too busy fucking Long and Jessop."

"Yes sir."

"And were you okay with him putting his cock into your bottom?"

"I squealed the first time he did it, sir. The next two times, I managed not to."

"It was still painful, though?"

"It was when he stuck it in, sir. Of course, once he'd got it right in and started doing it, it felt really good."

"As it did with Whitney just now."

"Yes sir."

"It might have been better if you'd let Mr Brown know that, but it doesn't matter now. I'll explain it to him. I agree with his idea of preparing you for what you're likely to face at your new school, but we've got several weeks to do that. We don't have to do it all at once. I'll explain to Mr Brown what he needs to do. When you come here again, you should be much better prepared."

"Yes sir, Thank you."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"Well, sir" Michael said, grinning at Mr Brown. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Neither was I," Martin answered, looking less than pleased.

"We'll have to do it the `proper' way round today sir. I can't fuck you. I've only just cum."

He didn't mention that as this was his second fuck in just a few hours, both of them extremely intense, his balls were even more drained than normal.

"Well, I guess that's what we'd have done anyway," Martin conceded.

After some fairly cursory foreplay, Michael smeared K-Y over the young choirmaster's cock. Pulling a pillow into the middle of the bed, he lay face-down on top of it, his legs spread apart. Moments later, Mr Brown was pounding his arse, the man's penis thrusting remorselessly in and out.

Michael lay there submissively, basking in the wonderful sensations emanating from his prostate. Much as he enjoyed fucking the younger boys, taking it up the bum had been his first love. He wouldn't want to give it up.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was fifteen minutes before Martin appeared in the lounge.

"Come and sit down," Alex invited.

"So what happened?" Martin demanded. "I thought you were going to fuck him."

"I was, but he was struggling to take Whitney's. He clearly wasn't ready for anything larger."

"Well, he's been okay taking mine."

"I asked him about that. Only three times, apparently. Highfield told me that he yelped the first time you put it into him, but on the next two occasions, he'd `managed not to'. My guess is that he found your entry more painful than he was letting on."

"He liked it well enough once I got going," Martin insisted.

"As he did with Whitney just now," Alex said evenly. "That doesn't alter the fact that if I'd fucked him today, I'd have hurt him. Given that we've got several weeks, it just wasn't necessary. You need to get him better prepared. Have you had him on his tummy yet?"

"No, that would mean taking him to bed with me. I normally only take the younger boys to bed."

"But you don't normally pick up boys just a few weeks before they leave. You'll have to make an exception."

"Arrowsmith won't like it," Martin objected. "He fucks the lad every night."

"Arrowsmith will be fine, providing you explain to him why you're doing it," Alex countered. "If he still objects, refer him to me. I'm sure I'll see him before the end of term."

Martin pulled a face reminiscent of someone chewing a wasp. Alex didn't respond. He'd said what he needed to say, and as far as he was concerned, that was the end of the matter.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

A few minutes later, Martin and Highfield were ready to leave.

"When I get to public school," Highfield said, turning to Whitney, "I hope my older friend's as nice as you."

"Thanks," Michael acknowledged, understanding how much of a compliment that was.

Having shown his two guests out of the flat, Alex returned to the lounge.

"Sir," Michael said. "I was really surprised that you didn't fuck Highfield. You've never done that before."

"He wasn't ready. Did you find it easy to get your cock into him?"

"No sir, he was much tighter than I expected. I had to go really slow or I'd have hurt him."

"Indeed. I thought you showed admirable restraint, so well done. And that was what I noticed."

"But you fucked Long the first time you met him, and he was even tighter."

"And immediately afterwards I decided that would be the last time I'd fuck a boy who wasn't ready for it. Did you think Highfield was ready to take my cock?"

"No sir."

"Good! I'm glad we agree. I'm afraid Mr Brown is rather inclined to rush things. I told him that he needs to get the lad better prepared. He knows what to do. I take it he fucked you?"

"Yes sir," Michael confirmed. "He had me on my tummy. I love it when he does that."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Sunday afternoon. With Bradshaw's maths tutorial completed, Alex guided the lad into the lounge, where they sat as usual on the sofa.

"I was rather surprised by the way you ran on Tuesday afternoon," Alex said quietly, his arm around Bradshaw's shoulder. "You could have run much faster if you'd gone hard from the start."

"Mr Daniels told me to run like that, sir. I'm not slow, but I don't have the change of pace that Newton's got. Mr Daniels said that if there was anyone like that in the race and I tried running hard all the way, I could get outsprinted at the end."

Alex felt suitably chastened, realising that Glyn Daniels knew far more about middle-distance running than he did.

"Oh, I see," he said, nodding his approval. "Well, the tactics definitely worked."

A few minutes later, Mr Smith arrived in the company of Holdsworth. As Bradshaw had developed a taste for fucking younger boys, Alex wondered how well things would work. But the rapport that the two blond lads had established on their previous meeting was re-ignited immediately, Bradshaw taking the bottom role without a murmur of protest.

With the boy-on boy sex completed, his protégé sat quite happily on Mr Smith's appendage, while Holdsworth was soundly spit-roasted, Bradshaw's cock in his mouth, Alex's pounding his bottom. For all concerned, it was a most enjoyable exercise.

Alex understood all too well that this situation would not last forever. Unlike Whitney, in the fullness of time, Bradshaw would become exclusively a top, and would no longer want anyone to fuck him. But that was for the future. For the moment, things were exactly as he would have wanted them.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The following Wednesday afternoon, Alex met Pennington outside Beechwood Park. As the weather was once again warm and sunny, they headed towards the woods.

"Sir," Pennington began a little hesitantly. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Carry on," Alex said, smiling.

Over the next few minutes, the lad recounted the events that had taken place the previous Saturday morning.

"We weren't followed, sir," he concluded. "I checked several times. I always do. And this is the only way in. There's a small space just beyond the den, but it doesn't go anywhere. I'll show you."

They arrived at the hiding place. "Through there, sir," Pennington said, indicating a small gap between the bushes.

They pushed their way through. It was a dead-end, exactly as Pennington had described.

"I don't know why anyone would want to wait in here, sir. You can't see anything."

Alex looked around, trying to look through towards the den. Suddenly, he found it.

"Hmmm!" he said sagely. "You can't see anything because you're not tall enough, but I can see pretty much everything."

"Really sir? That's it then!"

"So what d'you think happened?"

"Whitney told someone when we'd be at the den. Whoever it was arrived before we did so that he could watch us. Then after Whitney had finished, he came in and he did me too. And I'm pretty sure I know who it was. When I first met him, Whitney told me about his uncle taking his cherry. I'm sure that's who it must have been. I know Whitney still sees him."

"You can't be sure of that," Alex cautioned, realising only too well that Pennington was almost certainly correct. "It's possible the somebody just wandered along the path and noticed what was going on."

"I don't think so, sir. Whitney would have seen them, wouldn't he? And it wasn't just that. Whitney loves to make me cum while he's fucking me. He does it every time. But on Saturday, he didn't. He said he was going to suck me off afterwards."

"Which he didn't, of course, because this man turned up and fucked you."

"Yes sir. And it wasn't just that. The man let Whitney see him, but he didn't want me to see him. That doesn't make sense unless Whitney knew who it was. When I asked him, Whitney said the man was between forty and fifty, but he didn't sound that old. He sounded more like your age, sir. And the way Whitney said it, it just didn't sound right."

"Actually, this is the first I've heard of it," Alex said soothingly. "I'll be seeing Whitney tomorrow afternoon. I'll ask him why he hasn't told me about it; see what he has to say for himself. Meanwhile, don't go jumping to conclusions, okay?"

Below the surface, he was furious. He knew exactly what had happened. He even knew why. And Pennington, who was a great deal sharper than he'd given the lad credit for, had worked it out to the letter.

"Are you sure you want to do it here now?" he asked gently.

"Oh yes, sir! I'll be okay with you here! But I won't bring Whitney here again."

"So what do you want?" Alex enquired.

"You know, sir!" Pennington told him. "I want your cock up my bum, the same as I always do."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After the bell to signal the end of Thursday afternoon school, Alex sat in his classroom marking books. Several minutes later, Whitney strode in, freshly scrubbed after second-year games.

"Sit down," Alex said coolly. "I need to talk to you." He watched as the boy took his seat. "Right!" he continued. "Why didn't you tell me about what happened last Saturday morning?"

Michael blushed bright red, feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He hadn't said anything because his form master would have wanted to know all the ins and outs. He hadn't considered the possibility that he'd find out from Pennington.

"It was so embarrassing, sir," he said, sounding less than convincing. "We thought we were alone, only we weren't."

"I see," Alex said, giving the lad a piercing stare. "Now let me tell you what I think happened. You and Pennington went there the Saturday before. I know about that. He told me and you confirmed it. At some point thereafter, you decided to do a little exploring of your own. So you went back, and discovered the little space beyond the den. Now Pennington was aware that the space was there. What he didn't realise was that you could look from there into the den, because he's not tall enough. But I am, and so are you.

Anyway, armed with this information, the next time your saw your stick-in-the-mud uncle, you told him all about it, and suggested that he might like to come and watch you and Pennington in action. Whether or not you suggested that he might like to get a little action himself, I can't be certain. But that, in essence, is what happened, isn't it?"

"What did Pennington say?"

"Well, it seems that shortly after you met him, you told him about your uncle taking your cherry. You also let slip that you still see him. Now you may find Pennington somewhat dull, and he's not by any means a model student, but he's definitely not stupid. He'd worked out that you set him up. Now I told him that he couldn't be sure; I said it could have been someone coming along the path who stumbled across you and decided to take advantage of the situation, but you and I know that's not what happened. And don't try making up some cock and bull story. I know you too well."

"I thought he'd enjoy it, sir. I mean, he loves taking it up the bum. But afterwards, he was really upset about it. I couldn't work it out."

"As far as I'm aware, you quite enjoy that yourself. But sex is a very personal thing. Would you really want to be fucked by a man you've never even seen, much less met, especially when you've not been given any choice in the matter?"

"No sir."

"Well that's the point, isn't it?"

"But sir, he came while he was being fucked, so he must have enjoyed it a bit."

"That, Whitney, was a purely physical response. You'd have probably done that too, especially as while you were doing him, you didn't play with his cock like you usually do because you wanted to make sure he stayed horny. So let me make it clear. Nothing like this is ever to happen again. You need to start thinking with your head rather than your dick, because if you don't, you will end up getting into trouble. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"Fair enough, but it's not me that you need to apologise to, is it?"

"No sir."

"Right! Now that I've taken the wind out of your sails, do you still want to go into the storeroom? You don't have to."

"Yes sir. Maybe you can give me a lesson I won't forget. You can even spank me if you want. I mean, I deserve it, don't I?"

Alex could hardly believe his ears. Whitney had seen Southcott being spanked a number of times and must have begun to wonder what it would be like. Well, if the lad wanted to have his bottom smacked, that's exactly what he'd get.