THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

I'm pleased to say that I'm finally getting some writing time, and hence I'm able to post this chapter just two weeks after the previous one. Please read on and enjoy! Feedback will be as welcome as ever; please send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Finally, may I remind you that Nifty depends on readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. If you have not donated recently, please give as generously as you can.


CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

September 1961

The following Monday, the new school year began. Alex was continuing as form master of the group that he'd had for the preceding two years, now known as 3-Green. Welcoming them into his classroom, he was immediately struck by how different Whitney looked. With his hair more carefully styled and his clothes that much sharper than they'd been just a few weeks earlier, he looked every inch the young man.

It was not unexpected, the lad's more mature appearance destroying any remaining sexual interest that Alex might have had in him. Although he could detect no sign of it, Alex's concern was that under Parker's influence, the change might be accompanied by the development of rebellious teenage attitudes, steeling himself to crack down hard if that proved to be the case.

With the first three periods allocated to giving the boys a start-of-year pep-talk, issuing timetables and other administrative matters, normal classes began after morning break. Alex began with his fifth-year class. As he'd taught all the boys for the previous two years, it was simply a matter of picking up where they'd left off.

For the final period before lunch, Alex met his new Lower Sixth Pure Maths group. After issuing them with textbooks, he spent some time talking about the difference between A-level study and what the boys had experienced previously. With his explanation completed, he looked around the room, allowing time for his words to sink in. Now he'd put down a marker.

"You are here because you've done well in your O-levels," he went on. "Very well in most cases. The biggest danger is that you become complacent. Your social life is becoming more important to you. I'm sure several of you may already have girlfriends. There's nothing wrong with that. But you have to remember why you're here. Don't think that you're going to cruise through this because you won't. All you've done is to climb onto the next rung of the ladder, and reaching the one after this will be even more demanding. It won't just happen; you will have to work for it. And so, as those of you that I've taught before will already know, the minimum requirement is maximum effort. I will not settle for anything less, and neither should you. Please keep that in mind. As long as you do, we'll get on fine and you'll do well."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After lunch, Alex's first class was the fourth-year top set. They filed into his classroom, occupying every desk. He'd taught nine of the boys the previous year when they were members of 3-Red. The others he didn't know. He began by issuing his usual instructions about good manners and attitude to work. It was time to break the bad news.

"You're in this class," he said, looking around the room, "because you performed very well in the most recent exam. On that basis, you will be entered for the O-level exam at the end of your fourth year. Getting through the work we have to cover in the time available will require you to work much harder than you've been used to. However, as this is the only public exam that you will be doing, we expect you to give it your top priority. You all have the ability, so I don't want any complaints or excuses. I expect you all to get your heads down and give it your best. If there is anything you don't understand, come and see me and we'll sort it out. The important thing is that you've got to put the work in. Right! Are there any questions?"

"Sir," a red-haired boy asked. "If we do O-level at the end of our fourth year, what will we do when we're in fifth year?"

"You'll work towards another exam called Additional Maths. For those of you who go on to do maths at A-level, which we hope will be most of you, Additional Maths is the ideal preparation. For those who don't, it counts as another O-level. And it's a good one to have because not many people get it."

With a seating-plan completed and text books issued, it was time to begin. Neil Fleming had given Alex an outline work schedule. It was, he realised, extremely tight. There was no time to lose.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At the end of the day, Alex remained in his classroom to complete some preparation work for his fourth-year class. By the time he'd finished, the place was almost deserted. He strolled along to the staffroom. Finding it empty, he took 2-Green's register from the rack, in order to see if Ingleby had returned to school. He hadn't spotted the lad, but among eight hundred boys he could easily have missed him.

A cursory inspection of the day's attendance showed that all the boys in the form had been present, but as he ran his finger down the list of names, he quickly realised that Ingleby's was not there. Almost in a panic, he turned to the front page where the dates of birth and addresses were listed. Ingleby's name wasn't there either.

Alex's blood ran cold. It was exactly as he'd feared. The boy had been removed from the school, which could only be as a consequence of something that had happened during the summer holiday. He was desperate to find out the details, but realised in an instant that this would be impossible. Officially, his only contact with Ingleby had been in a couple of games classes in which the lad had distinguished himself by being completely useless. He had absolutely no reason to even know who the boy was, let alone to be interested in why he was no longer at the school.

He headed to the car park feeling very uneasy. If, as seemed almost certain, Ingleby's father had been arrested, the boy would have been questioned by the authorities. What, Alex wondered, might he have told them? It seemed unlikely that the boy would have mentioned their relationship, not least because the police would have had no reason to ask about it.

On the other hand, among people he trusted, Ingleby was extremely talkative. If he'd been placed in a children's home, he might well have encountered other boys with experience of sex with men. He could easily have said something to one of them. If he had, there was no way of knowing what the outcome would be.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday morning when Alex met 1-White, his new first-year class. Although they seemed as pleasant and attentive a group of eleven-year olds as his previous first-year classes, there were no really cute ones. In fact, he could only see four that he would have described as nice-looking. The others were ordinary at best.

It was a major disappointment. He'd been hoping to recruit a first-year boy to his inner circle. Indeed, Gordon and Martin would be expecting him to. But with Richard Needham having effectively denied him access to the younger boys as either games teacher or football coach, the only place he could hope to find one was within the class he taught. The prospects did not look good. But there was nothing to be done. He'd teach them with the same thoroughness and enthusiasm as all his other classes. If he was lucky, one of the nicer-looking lads would be amenable to his charms.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Senior games, which included fifth-year boys as well as those in the sixth form, took place on Wednesday afternoons. Following games master Richard Needham's decision not to allow him to continue coaching the boys he'd worked with the previous year, Alex had been assigned to look after second eleven football, a group of two dozen boys who had not made it into the first eleven, although some of the younger ones would be expected to make the step up the following year.

Alex taught a good number of them, either in his fifth-year class or one of his A-level groups. His reputation as an effective coach helped too. The boys were enthusiastic and eager to learn. Within half an hour, he could feel a rapport beginning to develop. Even though not one of boys interested him sexually, with the maturity to understand what he was asking them to do, they were far easier to work with than the first-years had been.

Another big difference was the lack of expectation. Nobody cared about the second eleven's results, which gave him the freedom to do the job as he wanted. Not having played the game competitively, Alex was not the best at developing ball-playing skills. Instead, his focus would be on improving the boys' tactical awareness, which was where his expertise lay. As the class came to an end, he had to admit that he'd thoroughly enjoyed himself. With no pressure on him, it had been fun. Over his first two years at Woodchurch, that had been a rarity.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

For the new school year, Alex had arranged his tutorial sessions with Bradshaw for Tuesday lunchtimes and Thursdays after school. This was quite deliberate. As the second-years had games on Thursday afternoons, Bradshaw would come to his tutorial directly afterwards, having just had a shower. There was something about a freshly scrubbed boy that added to Alex's arousal.

On the first Thursday of term, Bradshaw arrived at Alex's classroom rosy-cheeked, his hair still damp, exactly as Alex had hoped. He was pleased that the boy was still wearing shorts. They were clearly the ones he'd had before the summer holiday. Not only were they a very snug fit, they were quite short, exposing a considerable length of the youngster's thighs.

As usual, they immediately settled down to work. As they had covered all the elements required for the O-level examination, Alex had given the lad a past examination paper, with the instruction to complete part A, which comprised eight short-answer questions.

He checked Bradshaw's work. It was faultless. Although that was gratifying in one way, Alex found it frustrating. He hadn't given the lad any tips or special instruction. He'd simply handed him the paper and left him to get on with it. Bradshaw, being Bradshaw, had done it perfectly. There was nothing for Alex to do apart from asking the lad to complete part B before their tutorial on Sunday afternoon. Reaching across, he began stroking Bradshaw's leg.

"Are we going into the storeroom, sir?" Bradshaw asked, grinning mischievously.

Alex nodded. After carrying out his customary checks, he shepherded the lad inside, locking the door behind them. They were both familiar with the routine, the confined space not allowing for much variation. After ten minutes of exciting foreplay, Alex thrust his penis into Bradshaw's firm, round bottom, steadily drawing the youngster onto him until the lad was fully impaled. After a moment's pause, he began to fuck.

Although Bradshaw was no longer under Mr Faulkner's spell the way he'd been initially, as a very horny twelve-year old, he enjoyed taking his mentor's prick. He moaned contentedly, the sensations produced by the man's penis stimulating his prostate like nothing else he'd ever experienced. An even more important consideration was that through his relationship with Mr Faulkner, he'd met two very cute younger boys, both of who had been more than willing for him to fuck them. He definitely wanted that to continue.

"Sir!" he begged. "Play with my cock!"

Aware that they were both getting close, Alex slid his fingers lengthways down the boy's throbbing shaft as though he were milking him. It didn't last long. After no more than twenty seconds, Bradshaw bucked violently.

"Ohhhh, sir!" he gasped.

In an instant, his penis jerked into action, his sticky boy-juice squirting hard into his mentor's palm. With the youngster's starfish spasming around his cock, Alex too went over the edge, rope after rope of creamy spunk spurting deep into Bradshaw's rectum.

After an appropriate pause, Alex withdrew. It had been exactly what he needed, and from what he could tell, it was what Bradshaw had needed too. There was only one problem. The youngster was now producing a quite prodigious amount of spunk for a twelve-year old, and ejaculating very powerfully. Catching it all in the palm of his hand was no easy matter.

"We'll have to be careful," he cautioned. "You're really squirting now. I don't want you making a mess."

"Oh, that's easy, sir," Bradshaw responded, giving his mentor a conspiratorial grin. "We can put my towel there."

"Won't your Mum notice?" Alex queried.

"No sir. I put it straight in the washing machine. She won't even look at it."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Finally, it was Friday afternoon. With school over for the week, Alex spent twenty minutes marking 2-Blue's books before heading for home. As the prep schools would not resume until Sunday, the weekend would be a fairly quiet one. He'd entertain Pennington on Saturday afternoon and Bradshaw on Sunday. He could hardly complain.

Meanwhile, Michael was waiting for Lorenzo to arrive. At twenty past four, the doorbell rang. As soon as he opened the front door, Michael could see that his boyfriend was brooding about something.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I made a few silly mistakes in a clause analysis exercise," Lorenzo said, almost spitting out the words. "Sutherland had a right go at me; showed me up in front of the whole class! I hate clause analysis; it's boring!"

It was only at this point that Michael truly understood what the problem was. Lorenzo had been given a piece of work, presumably of a type that he'd have to tackle in his English Language exam. Considering it uninteresting, he'd rushed through it, making mistakes that he should not have made. Mr Sutherland, who was known for his sharp tongue, had taken him to task. Okay, the man had probably made more of it than he needed to. The fact remained that if Lorenzo had done the work as he should have done, it wouldn't have happened. This was the test that Michael knew he was going to face. He knew what he needed to do and was determined to do it properly. Going off at half-cock was not going to cut it.

"Come upstairs," he said quietly.

Once in Michael's bedroom, they undressed each other and snuggled up on the bed. Michael was as gentle and affectionate as he always was. There was hardly any conversation; that would come later. After fifteen minutes, their preparations were complete.

"You know what you need now?" Michael demanded.

"Yes, Mike. I need you to give me a good fucking."

"Quite right!" Michael said firmly, placing his pillow in the middle of the bed. "And that's what you're going to get." Taking a towel from his bag, he spread it over the pillow. "Right!" he ordered. "You know what to do."

Lorenzo obediently lay face-down, his boy-parts resting on the pillow. Spreading his boyfriend's legs, Michael lowered himself into position. With one determined thrust, his hard, six-inch cock speared into the fifteen-year old's bottom.

"Now let me ask you something," he said, pulling back several inches before slamming back in again. "Will you have to do clause analysis in your exam?"

"Yes, in the English Language exam we will."

"So it doesn't matter if it's boring, does it? You've got to do it and you've got to do it properly."

"Yes, Mike."

"But you didn't, did you?" Michael went on, continuing to pound Lorenzo's bottom. "You rushed it and made silly mistakes."

"I'm sorry, Mike!" Lorenzo whimpered. "I've let you down."

"It's not me that you've let down," Michael countered, fucking the lad even harder. "You've let yourself down. And it's going to stop, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mike."

"So next time you're given an exercise like that, what will you do?"

"I'll do it properly. I promise!"

"Of course you will," Michael insisted, "because you're better than that! Let me hear you say it: "I am better than that'."

"I am better than that."

"Yes, you are!" Mike rasped, giving it everything he had. "You're the boy I was meant to be with and you're going to be the best you can possibly be!"

"Yes, Mike!"

Suddenly, Lorenzo began to shudder.

"Oh, Mike! Mike!" he whimpered. "I'm going to cum!"

With his penis swelling and pulsing, jets of sticky cum squirted onto the towel. Michael's orgasm followed immediately, his hot teen spunk flooding into his boyfriend's bottom. Eventually, they disengaged, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Mike," Lorenzo said, looking right into Michael's eyes. "You didn't hold back. You were there when I needed you. I won't forget."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With the weekend over, on Monday they returned to school. At morning break, Michael headed into the boys' room for a piss. He was just about to put his cock away when he became aware of a familiar-looking first-year boy standing a couple of feet to his left. Instinctively, he glanced across, instantly recognising the younger lad to be Robbie Newton, Chris's brother. Only he wasn't peeing; he was flashing his stiff penis.

Jerking his head towards the exit, Michael zipped up and made his way out, waiting on the corridor for Robbie to follow him. He wasn't worried about being seen talking to the lad. As the brother of a close friend, Michael had met him any number of times. A few seconds later, the boy appeared.

"Did you see something you liked?" he asked cheekily.

"Maybe," Michael conceded. "But I'm not going to go with you if that's what you're looking for."

"Why not?"

"Because I've got a boyfriend now and I'm not going to cheat on him."

"You mean like Chris and Mark?"

"Yes."

"Your boyfriend; is that the dark-haired kid who came to the house?"

"Yes."

"Ohh!" Robbie said, looking deflated.

"I might still be able to help you though," Michael said, thinking on his feet. "I know a second-year boy. I think you'll like him. If you want, I can try to arrange for you to meet. But you won't have to go with him if you don't want to."

"Okay. How d'you know him?"

"Don't ask silly questions! D'you know where the upstairs physics lab is?"

"I can find it."

"Meet me there after school on Wednesday, okay?"

"Yeah! I'll be there."

Michael headed off to join his friends wondering what he'd got himself into. But Robbie was a good kid, he told himself. He couldn't have just walked away. That wouldn't have been right.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At the end of afternoon registration, before going to his first class, Michael went up to Mr Faulkner's desk.

"Sir," he asked. "May I have a word with you after school, please?"

"Certainly," Alex responded. "I'll be here."

With classes over for the day, Michael strode back to his form room. Seeing the boy come in, Alex indicated for him to sit down in the chair by his desk.

"Well?" he asked. "What can I do for you?"

Michael recounted the events of morning break.

"He wanted me to have sex with him, sir, but I couldn't, not now I've got a boyfriend."

"I take it that you and Parker are still together then?" Alex enquired.

"Yes sir. But I didn't want to just walk off. I wondered if Bradshaw would like to meet him."

"I'll have to ask, of course," Alex said, choosing his words carefully. "But it's quite possible. What's he like?"

"He's not quite as cute as Chris was, sir, and not as slim, but he's nice looking; good kid too."

"So you'd have accepted his offer if you didn't have these other commitments?"

"Yes sir."

Somehow, Alex managed to avoid rubbing his hands. Just as the prospects of him acquiring a first-year boy were looking particularly bleak, a lifeline appeared. Maybe there really was a god, he speculated. Having been so busy with more urgent matters, he'd completely forgotten that the younger Newton would be coming to the school. If the lad teamed up with Bradshaw, in the fullness of time, his protégé would bring the youngster to his flat, where he could draw the boy into his ambit. If things worked out as he expected, he'd have a first-year boy after all.

"Fair enough," he said. "I can't imagine Bradshaw will turn down an offer like that."

"I've told Newton to meet me on Wednesday after school, outside the top physics lab, near the toilets," Michael explained. "If Bradshaw's interested, he can meet us there and I'll introduce them. One thing though, sir. Bradshaw needs to understand that either of them can walk away and there won't be any hard feelings."

"Is introducing them all you'll be doing?"

"Yes, sir. If I'd wanted to have sex with Robbie, I'd have just done it."

"Okay," Alex agreed. "I'll be seeing Bradshaw tomorrow lunchtime. I'll ask you to stop for a quick word after afternoon registration and let you know what he says."

"Thanks, sir!" Michael said, smiling.

As Alex watched him leave the classroom, he was perplexed. The Whitney he knew would never have turned down such an offer, boyfriend or no boyfriend. More than that, although Whitney had admitted that he was still keeping company with Lorenzo Parker, it didn't seem to have affected his work one bit. It was early days, and Alex didn't know how the lad was doing in other subjects, but in maths, Whitney's work and attitude had been first-class.

Then there was that business about Bradshaw and the younger Newton being able to walk away. Whitney, whom he'd always considered to be rather self-centred, had obviously thought about it. If he'd shown that much consideration to the older Newton, in all probability, the two of them would never have split up. It all seemed very strange.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The following lunch break, Bradshaw's maths tutorial had just finished. Having been given another past exam paper to work on, the lad began to pack his things away.

"There's something I need to ask you," Alex said.

Very briefly, he outlined the situation.

"I know Newton sir," Bradshaw said. "The one in third year, that is. We trained together during the summer."

"Yes, well this is his younger brother. It seems that yesterday, he approached Whitney, looking for sex. But Whitney has a boyfriend now, so he turned the lad down. He wanted to know if you'd be interested in meeting the first-year Newton. I said I'd ask."

"Yes, sir! Definitely!" He lowered his voice. "Sir, third-year Newton and Ferris who's in fourth year, they're like boyfriends, aren't they?"

"I'm not sure how you know that," Alex responded, "but yes. I hope you're not going to say anything."

"Oh no, sir! They're okay! I wouldn't grass on them."

"Before he got together with Ferris, Newton was Whitney's boyfriend," Alex explained. "They went to each other's houses all the time, especially during the school holidays. That's how Whitney and the younger Newton know each other. Only I didn't tell you that."

"Yes sir. I understand."

"Whitney's meeting first-year Newton outside the top physics lab tomorrow after school. Would you be able to meet them there?"

"Yes, sir."

"Whitney will introduce you. Then he'll leave you to it. There are some toilets just along from there that you might be able to make use of. There's just one thing Whitney asked me to mention. If Newton decides he doesn't want to go with you, or the other way round, either of you can walk away and there'll be no hard feelings. Is that okay?"

"Yes sir. That'll be fine. I wondered what we'd do if that happened."

"From what Whitney's told me, I don't think it will, but it's best to be prepared. Right! Off you go! I'll let Whitney know you'll be there."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Wednesday afternoon. Immediately after his final class, Michael made his way upstairs to the physics lab. As expected, the place was deserted. Less than a minute later, Robbie appeared.

"Hi!" Michael greeted. "I'm told that our friend will be here. I hope he's not too long. His name's Bradshaw. Now it'll be up to you. If you don't like him, that's fine. You don't have to go with him if you don't want to. And the same goes for him, okay?"

"Yes, sure."

"So have you actually done anything yet?"

"Yeah. While we were away on holiday, Chris and I messed about quite a bit."

"Really? Doing what?"

"Sucking each other mainly."

"Oh, right!"

"But once we were back at home, Chris wouldn't do it anymore because he was with Mark."

"Oh, so you know about that then!"

Before Robbie had time to answer, they heard footsteps on the stairs. Within a few seconds, Bradshaw appeared. Robbie's eyes lit up. Michael knew straight away that the lad wouldn't be turning Bradshaw down.

"Hi," Michael said casually, addressing himself to the second-year boy. "This is Newton."

"Good to meet you," Bradshaw said, grinning, as though mentally undressing the younger boy. "I know your brother. Back before the summer holiday, we used to run together."

"Good to meet you too!" Robbie responded, his tongue almost hanging out.

"Right!" Michael announced. "I'm going to leave you two to get to know each other. Just one thing. I wasn't here. You just happened to meet. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure!" Bradshaw responded, glancing lustfully at his new friend.

Much as he would have liked to stay and watch, Michael tore himself away and hurried down the stairs.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The following morning, Alex took his fifth-year class in the period immediately before break. When he dismissed the class, Troy Stainham approached him.

"Sir," he said quietly. "Do you remember when I told you about that time when Parker started calling me names and threatening to hit me?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, worried about what Stainham might be about to say.

"Well sir, yesterday, he came and apologised. I thought that was really odd. I mean, it was nearly two years ago."

"Yes," Alex agreed. "Very odd, as you say."

"He seems to have changed a lot this term," Stainham went on. "He's in all my classes apart from maths. He seems to be doing much better in most of them."

"I see. Well, thanks for letting me know. You'd better get your break."

As Stainham left the classroom, Alex was more puzzled than ever. Parker's relationship with Whitney might have played a part, he reasoned, but could it have made that much difference?

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At the end of afternoon school, Alex sat at his desk marking 1-White's homework. After a few minutes, Bradshaw sauntered in, freshly showered after his games class. Sitting down in his usual place, he began to get out his maths books.

"Did you meet the younger Newton yesterday?" Alex enquired.

"Yes sir."

"And?"

"He's really nice, sir!"

"So? Did you get to do anything?"

"Yes, sir. We went into the toilets by the physics lab. We sucked each other off."

"Very good! Did you cum in his mouth?"

"Yes sir. He'd done it before. I could tell."

"Did he say who with?"

"No sir. We didn't really have time to talk about it."

"I assume you'll be seeing him again?"

"Yes sir. I'm meeting him on Saturday afternoon."

"Excellent! I'll be interested to know how you get on. Right! It's time we got some work done."

As Alex turned his attention back to mathematics, he was more than happy. It seemed that Whitney's little scheme was working out nicely, and in the fullness of time, he'd be the beneficiary.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Saturday afternoon. Alex was pottering around at home, waiting for his visitors to arrive. Just before two o'clock, the doorbell rang. He went to answer it. As expected, Pennington was standing there. He ushered the boy inside, leading him through to the lounge.

"Did you find out anything about what's happened to Ingleby?" he asked as they sat down on the sofa.

"No sir. I asked Monk and Parsons, who are in his form, but they hadn't a clue."

"I take it they didn't ask you why you wanted to know?"

"No sir, they never mentioned it."

"Well, that's good, anyway."

"I suppose I could ask their form master."

"Oh, I wouldn't want you to do that," Alex cautioned. "Even if Mr Neiland knows, he's unlikely to tell you. And he might start wondering how you and Ingleby know each other. We wouldn't want that. We'll just have to assume the worst has happened and hope that it doesn't come back to haunt us."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex spent Sunday morning reading the Sunday Times and making sure he was prepared for the week ahead. The previous afternoon, Pennington had done a competent job of fucking eleven-year old Long, who, as Alex had subsequently discovered, was tighter than ever, not having had sex for the duration of the summer holiday. The scrawny lad had squealed when Alex penetrated him, but with that hurdle overcome, had seemed perfectly happy to continue. It had all been very enjoyable.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With their tutorial at an end, Alex began to stroke Bradshaw's thigh.

"So how are you getting on with young Newton?" he asked seductively.

"Very well, thank you sir."

"Carry on!"

"We met yesterday afternoon near where he lives. Mum was at work, so we cycled over to mine."

"Where, no doubt, you had a very nice time."

"Yes, sir. We messed about for a while and I taught him how to kiss. Then we sucked each other off."

"I assume that's as far as he's gone."

"Yes sir. He hasn't been fucked yet."

"Well take your time before you try it. It took Whitney months to get the older one ready. Did he say anything about who he'd been with before?"

"He said it was his brother, while they were on holiday. He was complaining that after they got home, Chris wouldn't even touch him because he was with Ferris."

"I did think that was a possibility," Alex observed. "Did he say whose idea it was for them to have a little fun together while they were away?"

"No sir, but I think it was his."

"That makes sense. I can't imagine the older one initiating it. But with Ferris not around, I guess he'd have been happy enough to give his younger brother a few tips."

"Yes, sir. That's what I thought. Sir, who's Mr Smith bringing this afternoon?"

"Van Kerkstraat. As I understand it, the boy wasn't even touched during the school holidays, so he's much tighter back there than he was when you met him; so much so that Mr Smith hasn't fucked him since they've been back at school. He wants me to do him first."

"Sir," Bradshaw asked, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Could I have him lying face down?"

"I don't see why not. From what I've been told, he's been getting plenty of Southcott's, so it shouldn't be a problem. You can have him any way you like."

"And afterwards, sir, while I'm sitting on Mr Smith's cock, could you get him to suck me off?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to cum again so soon after you've fucked him?"

"Yes sir, definitely!"

"Fair enough, but you'll need to wash your prick in between."

"Okay, sir!" Bradshaw responded, giving his mentor a conspiratorial grin.

Alex allowed himself a smile. Knowing that Bradshaw was less than enthusiastic about being fucked by Mr Smith, he saw no harm in sweetening the pill. Moments later, the doorbell sounded, indicating that their visitors had arrived.

Not having seen the boy for two months, Alex found Van Kerkstraat every bit as alluring as he'd been the first time they'd met. He was a nice-looking boy anyway, Alex reflected, but the youngster's wavy, somewhat unruly blond hair turned him into something special. It truly was the boy's crowning glory.

After the usual preliminaries, they made their way to the bedroom. As the two adults settled into their chairs, Bradshaw and Van Kerkstraat began to undress each other. Alex watched intently, finding the sight wonderfully erotic. Within a couple of minutes, the boys were down to their white briefs. Van Kerkstraat's were the first to go. Alex licked his lips. Though still quite small, at a fraction over three inches, the eleven-year old's uncut penis was noticeably bigger than it had been. Moments later, Bradshaw was naked too.

"Hmmmm!" Van Kerkstraat enthused, running his fingers over the older boy's cock. "Your thingy's really grown since I saw it before. I reckon it's bigger than Southcott's now. It's a bit hard to tell. His has got hair; yours hasn't."

They snuggled up on the bed, kissing passionately. The first time they'd met, Bradshaw had considered Van Kerkstraat to be rather blasé, as though what they were doing was no big deal. There was no hint of that this time; the lad was totally into it. Bradshaw found himself getting hornier by the second.

"Mr White says he's going stretch your bum-hole," he whispered.

"Yeah!"

"I hear Southcott's been giving you plenty."

"Yeah, he's fucked me every day. He did me this morning after breakfast. Half an hour later, we were singing at the main Sunday service, sounding like angels. It was quite funny. I still had his spunk up my bum."

"So is that all you've had since you got back to school?"

"Not quite", Van Kerkstraat admitted. "Yesterday afternoon, Mr Green came over. He stretched me a bit; not much though."

"I've not met Mr Green."

"You know Mr Brown though, don't you? Mr Green's about the same size."

"Nice! I like doing it with Mr Brown."

"What about Mr Smith?"

"It's okay," Bradshaw conceded. "But I always have a sore arse afterwards."

They moved into a sixty-nine. With a height difference of only a few inches, they fitted together beautifully. As they sucked, each boy placed a hand between the other's thighs, using his fingers to stimulate his friend's perineum. Alex sucked in air. Although he'd enjoyed watching Long and Pennington perform much the same routine, this pair were so much more erotic.

As the sixty-nine broke apart, Bradshaw got Van Kerkstraat onto all fours, working his tongue into the younger boy's rosebud. Mr Faulkner had been right, he noted. The lad was much tighter than he'd been at their previous meeting.

After a minute or so, he replaced his tongue with a well-lubricated index finger, pushing it right in. Withdrawing about halfway, he pushed the middle one in too, twisting his digits around as he worked them in and out. Finally, he let both fingers slide out.

"Okay, lie down," Bradshaw instructed, pulling one of the pillows into the middle of the bed.

With Van Kerkstraat in position, Bradshaw knelt between the younger boy's legs. As he smeared K-Y over his prick, he admired his prize, the younger boy's starfish twitching invitingly. Bradshaw lowered himself carefully, guiding his penis onto its target.

"Ooooh!" Van Kerstraat gasped, the twelve-year old's penis spearing into him, advancing steadily until he'd taken the whole thing. Moments later, he was being fucked. It was completely different from the way Southcott did it. While his schoolmate's thrusts were short and fast, Bradshaw's were longer and harder. It felt much more like the way Mr Green had done him the previous day. Involuntarily, he moaned and whimpered, revelling in the intense sensations that the older boy was generating.

Alex watched intently, his eyes riveted to the action. The previous term, he'd seen Bradshaw fucking Long and a couple of other boys, but this was an altogether more mature, more athletic performance, his protégé giving the eleven-year old's beautiful bottom a thorough pounding. He wondered how long it would be before the younger Newton would be subjected to the same treatment, guessing that Bradshaw would not be as patient as Whitney had been.

Suddenly, Van Kerkstraat began to quiver, his whimpers becoming both higher and louder as his dry orgasm took hold.

"Oh yes!" Bradshaw growled triumphantly. "Now take my spunk! Yes! Yes! Yesssss!"

In the next instant, Van Kerkstraat felt the twelve-year old's hot boy-juice spurting into his bum, exactly as he'd hoped. After a few seconds, Bradshaw carefully pulled out. He hopped off the bed.

"I'll be back in a minute," he announced, smirking at Mr Smith as he headed for the bedroom door.

"That was quite a performance," Gordon commented, turning to Alex. "He seems to have grown up a great deal since I last saw him."

"Absolutely," Alex confirmed. "And he's a superb athlete, one of the best in the school."

He moved to the bed, wrapping his arm around the blond beauty's shoulder.

"Did you enjoy that?" he asked quietly.

"Yes sir," Van Kerstraat confirmed. "It was super!"

"I hear that Southcott's been looking after you since you got back to school."

"Yes sir. The summer holidays were so boring! I never got chance to do anything. By the time I got back to school, I couldn't wait to have sex again."

"I can imagine. So it's been what? Ten times in eight days?"

"Yes sir, and it's about to be eleven, isn't it?"

"That's definitely the idea."

"I'm sure it'll be fine, sir. Mr Smith just wants to make sure he doesn't hurt me."

"Mr Smith has always been very careful about that sort of thing," Alex said gently. "He was exactly the same when I was there."

The bedroom door opened and Bradshaw sauntered back in. Going across to the armchair where Mr Smith was sitting, he knelt on the floor. Having moistened his lips, he held the man's cock around the base and took the large shiny head into his mouth. He began to suck. He was unable to get down much further, and even that made his jaw ache. Fortunately, Mr Smith was undemanding. He knew that most boys couldn't take more than a few inches of his large appendage, and was perfectly happy for them to do what they could.

After a couple of minutes, he got to his feet, allowing Mr Smith to return the favour. As he basked in the wonderful sensations, the man's hand slid between his legs, a greasy finger making its way into his anus. A few seconds later, a second one joined it. He winced slightly, but didn't emit a sound. He wouldn't, not even when he took the man's cock.

On the bed, Alex was licking Van Kerkstraat's rosebud.

"Mmmmm!" he purred. "Your bottom's full of Bradshaw's spunk!"

"Yes, sir. And pretty soon I'll have yours as well, won't I?"

Alex didn't answer. Withdrawing his tongue, he replaced it with first one finger, then two. With his preparations pretty much complete, he looked up. Bradshaw was standing with his back to Mr Smith, carefully lowering himself onto the man's oversized prong.

"They're almost ready for us," Alex said, carefully removing both digits from the youngster's bottom. "Go on," he added, squeezing some K-Y onto Van Kerkstraat's fingers. "You know what to do."

"Right!" he continued, his penis now suitably lubricated. "Stay on all-fours, but turn around so you're right in front of them."

As Van Kerkstraat crawled into position, Bradshaw finished impaling himself on the choirmaster's cock. Lifting his feet, he braced them against the side of the bed, his bum-hole now fully exposed to the eleven-year old's gaze. Van Kerkstraat's eyes widened. Although he'd seen it before, he was still amazed that a boy's starfish could stretch as much as Bradshaw's so clearly had. Suddenly, his reverie was shattered as Mr White's penis forced its way into him.

"Ohhhh!" he protested. "Oh, sir!"

"Take it easy," Alex said soothingly. "You've done the hard part." He paused, allowing the boy time to relax. "Right!" he instructed. "Now suck Bradshaw's cock."

Van Kerkstraat hesitated.

"It's okay," Bradshaw assured him. "I've just washed it. That's where I went. Mr Smith's sucked it, haven't you, sir?"

"Yes," the choirmaster confirmed. "Go on; it's fine."

With no reason to do otherwise, Van Kerkstraat took the swollen object into his mouth. Bradshaw smiled, running his fingers through the younger lad's luxuriant blond hair, almost the same colour as his own, but much thicker.

"Okay, boys!" Alex admonished. "Keep nice and still."

With that, he set to his task, remorselessly fucking Van Kerkstraat's bottom until he hit the perfect rhythm. Facing his mentor, Bradshaw smiled. He was enjoying this. Although taking Mr Smith's cock was as uncomfortable as ever, with his prick between his younger friend's sucking lips, it no longer seemed to matter. On it went. As three minutes became four, Bradshaw began to groan, his breathing becoming harsh and erratic.

"Ohhh," he whimpered, his muscles going into spasm. "I'm going to cum!"

Tightening his grip on Van Kerkstraat's head, his penis swelled and pulsed, two jets of boy-cum squirting onto the eleven-year old's tongue. Alex and Mr Smith were just seconds behind, each of them depositing his spunk in the appropriate boy's bottom.

After a suitable pause, they disengaged. Alex was on the point of asking Bradshaw to lick up the spunk that was trickling down Van Kerkstraat's legs, but decided not to, somehow sensing that his protégé wouldn't want to do that.

"Okay, boys, go and get yourselves cleaned up," he ordered. "You know where it is."

As the boys headed to the bathroom, he returned to his chair.

"Well," Gordon said. "That was all rather splendid, much better than last time."

"Yes," Alex agreed. "Of course, Bradshaw's grown quite a bit. And having van Kerkstraat suck him off helped."

"He did very well to cum twice in such a short period."

"Actually, it was almost twenty minutes, so I guess it's not that remarkable. Even so, it was a good effort, especially as he came loads the first time."

"So d'you think Van Kerkstraat will be ready for me now?" Gordon enquired.

"Oh yes!" Alex answered, smiling. "I'd give him tomorrow to recover, but by Tuesday he'll be all yours!"