THE HUNTING SEASON
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December 1959
As November gave way to December, Alex was busier than ever. As well as preparing his classes for their pre-Christmas exams, he was still working with his football team, who had to play a further three matches before the end of term, and doing extra work with 3-Blue.
In addition, he'd agreed to join the choir for the school's annual carol service. Given his background as a cathedral chorister, he could not have done otherwise. Compared to the music he was used to singing, carols were easy, but he couldn't just turn up. He'd have to attend at least a few rehearsals.
It was Sunday evening. He was just finishing his lesson plans when the phone rang. It was Gordon.
"I expected you to call yesterday," he said. "I hope everything's okay."
"Yes," Alex assured him. "I'm fine. I'm just a bit busy at the moment, with school exams coming up and the preparations for the end of term."
"I hope Whitney's looking after you," Gordon said.
"Oh, he's been wonderful," Alex gushed. "I don't know what I'd do without him. I've never had to work as hard as I have this past week, even when I was studying for my finals. He was here yesterday afternoon. He loves it! We were kissing, cuddling and sucking each other for nearly half an hour before we got to the serious stuff. He lay on his tummy for me. He's so sexy! He came while I was doing him. It was exactly what I needed. It could not have been better."
"You're very lucky," Gordon commented. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in arranging another meeting."
"I'm really sorry," Alex replied. "Right at the moment I can't even think about it. Can I call you back in a couple of weeks? Things should have eased off by then."
"Yes of course," Gordon said gently. "I know how hard it can be when you're starting out, and I don't think I was under anything like the pressure that you're having to deal with. I'll hear from you in two weeks' time. And don't work too hard!"
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
With the exams due to begin the following Monday, the next week was intense. Alex knew that they were as much a test for him as for the boys he was teaching. If they performed to the best of their ability, all would be fine, but would they?
He made sure that they revised all the key topics, and had them work through questions of the same type as they'd face in their exams. There was only one other thing he could do. He gave each of his classes the same advice.
"Before you come to school, make sure that you've got pens, pencils and drawing instruments and that they all work. While you're waiting for the exam to start, stay calm. You've prepared well. There's nothing for you to worry about. When you begin work, remember that there is nothing that says you have to do the questions in the order that they appear. Begin by doing the questions you can do straight away. If you come to a question that you don't know how to do, don't waste time fiddling about. That's the worst mistake you can make. Leave it and move on. There will be plenty of questions that you can do, so make sure you do them first, and that you do them properly, with no silly mistakes. If you've got any time left at the end, go back and have another look at the questions you missed out. You'll probably find that you can to do at least some of them. Do you understand?"
Most of the boys nodded appreciatively. They did understand. Why wouldn't they? When you thought about it, it was common sense.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The beginning of exam week did not herald a reduction in Alex's workload. While his days were taken up with the tedium of invigilation, his evenings were spent marking his classes' exam papers. In doing this, he was not master in his own house. The papers for his main school classes had been set by Neil Fleming, and he had to mark according to the schemes that Neil had given him.
The same applied to his A-level classes, whose papers had been set by George Brett, the second in department. Making sure that he applied the mark schemes correctly was far more demanding than he'd expected. On several occasions he had to check with Neil or George how many marks he should award.
When he had finished marking a set of papers, he had to add up each pupil's marks and check the total before entering their score on a class list. Determined as always not to make any mistakes, even that simple task took him longer than he'd planned for.
But each evening he set to work, eager to find out how the boys he taught had performed. He began with 2-Red, followed on successive evenings by his Upper Sixth and Fourth Year groups. On the whole, the indications were encouraging. All the boys in his Upper Sixth group had performed admirably, as had most of the boys in the other two classes.
Even so, several boys had failed to reach the expected standard, with Jones in his fourth year group scoring a miserable eighteen per cent. Among the first three sets of papers that he marked, that was by far the lowest of anybody. But 3-Blue had yet to do their exam. He knew some of them would perform poorly.
In between, his football coaching continued as normal. Fourth year games took place on the Tuesday afternoon just as it always did, and for the team, there was training after school on Thursday. Finally, there was a match on the Saturday morning. With the exams over, it seemed to come as a relief to everyone, and resulted in a five-nil thrashing of one of the league's weaker sides.
Alex headed for home, looking forward to some well-earned relaxation. As 3-Blue had done their exam the previous day, he still had their papers to mark, but that could wait. Whitney would be coming to his flat later that afternoon. It was exactly what he needed.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Michael snuggled up to his teacher, wrapping his arms around the man's shoulders.
"So how d'you want me, sir?" he asked, smearing Vaseline over Mr Faulkner's cock.
"You choose," Alex told him.
Michael rolled onto his back, pulling his legs up so that his knees were close to his shoulders. Alex got onto his knees and shuffled into position. With one hard thrust he was in.
"Oh, go on sir!" Michael urged "You know what I want."
He watched as Mr Faulkner set to his task, his eyes glued to the man's cock pumping in and out of his bum. Feeling himself getting close, Alex slid his hand across the top of Whitney's thigh. Wrapping his fingers around the boy's penis, he began to wank him. The results of his ministrations were almost immediate.
"Oh! Oh sir!" Michael gasped.
All his muscles went into crazy spasms. His fingers clawed at the bed. His legs flailed out of control. A moment later, his cock sprang into action, spraying spunk all over him.
"Oh, you sexy boy!" Alex growled.
"Oh sir!" Michael groaned. "Fill me up!"
Alex gave one final thrust, burying his cock deep in Whitney's bum. It jerked powerfully. His spunk spurted over and over into the twelve-year old's rectum. After several seconds, he slowly pulled out.
"Get onto your knees," he instructed.
Michael readily complied. Mr Faulkner's spunk was trickling down his legs. Alex gently massaged it into the boy's thighs and buttocks.
"Okay," he said playfully. "You'd better go and clean up."
When Michael returned from the bathroom, Mr Faulkner was sitting on the bed, still naked.
"Come and sit here," he requested, patting the bed next to him. "I need to ask you something."
As Whitney sat down, Alex placed his arm around the boy's shoulder.
"I've been talking to Mr Smith," he said quietly. "He's been wondering if we'd like to meet them again."
"Oh yes sir!" Michael said, grinning. "I'd love to see Maitland again!"
"Okay," Alex said. "I've got to call Mr Smith later on. I'll tell him. Come and see me after school on Monday. We won't be able to do anything of course, but I'll be able to tell you what they have in mind."
Michael smiled and nodded.
"You're hard again," Alex commented. "Stand up please."
Getting to his feet, Michael turned to face him. Alex leaned forwards, devouring the lad's penis. He sucked it hungrily. Michael placed his hands on his teacher's head, urging him on. It took some time, but suddenly Michael was overtaken by even more wild convulsions, little jets of boy-cum squirting into Mr Faulkner's mouth. Alex swallowed every drop before allowing the boy to pull away.
"That was beautiful," he whispered. "Do you want to get dressed now?"
"Sir," Michael asked as he began to dress, "have you marked our exam papers?"
"Yes," Alex confirmed. "I'll give you the marks on Monday."
"Can't you just tell me how I did?" Michael pleaded.
"You'll have to promise not to breathe a word to any of the other boys," Alex cautioned.
"Oh, of course," Michael assured him. "I won't say a thing."
"Then I can tell you that you did well," Alex told him, "not brilliantly, but as well as I thought you'd do."
"Thanks, sir," Michael acknowledged.
He'd done well but not brilliantly. It was what he always did. He never did really well in anything.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Alex picked up the phone and dialled Gordon's number.
"So have you got through it all?" Gordon asked.
"Almost," Alex told him. "I've one more set of papers to mark. That's tomorrow's job. And that will be more or less it. I'll be singing in the school's carol concert on Wednesday evening. We finish school on Friday. It doesn't give us much time."
"Most of our boys will finish on Friday," Gordon said, "except for the choristers who have to stay here to sing in the Christmas services. They'll be here till Christmas morning. I was wondering if you might be able to bring Whitney over here one afternoon. The Tuesday before Christmas would be good."
"It's a possibility," Alex said guardedly. "I saw Whitney this afternoon. He seemed very keen to see Maitland again. Both his parents go out to work, so he's left pretty much to his own devices during the holidays. Of course, I'll need to ask. I'll be having a word with him on Monday. I'll call you and let you know what he says."
"Excellent!" Gordon answered. "I'll look forward to hearing from you on Monday evening."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Alex sat at his desk, ready to mark 3-Blue's exam papers. He began with the five boys in the `express group' who had done the paper that Neil had set. They had all performed well. Calladine had scored ninety-one per cent. But for a couple of mistakes, it could have been a hundred. Three of the others had scored in the seventies. The real bonus was Northam, who's managed a remarkable eighty-two.
Alex was delighted. All the work he'd done with them had paid off, for Northam especially. But what of the others? They had done a paper where several of the questions that Neil had set had been replaced by questions on easier, second-year work. How well would they have done?
Over the next two hours he steadily worked his way through their papers. Excluding the rebels and the strugglers, the results were everything he could have hoped for, with a highest mark of eighty-three and a lowest of fifty-nine. They'd be just the confidence boost that the boys needed.
The rebels had scored just either side of forty per cent, which, Alex reflected, was better than it might have been. The two strugglers had scored in the high twenties. That was the real disappointment. He'd set himself the goal of ensuring that boys weren't being left behind, and he'd failed to reach it.
Those were the marks that the boys would see, and the ones that would appear on their reports. But he had one final task to perform. In order to give a valid comparison, he subtracted the marks that had been scored on the questions that he'd set before entering them onto the list that he'd give to Neil.
The highest adjusted mark was sixty-one, the lowest seventeen. That, Alex considered, told the real story. 3-Blue had made great progress, but there was still much to be done.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Monday morning. After break, 1-Green entered into Mr Faulkner's classroom. They sat down in silence, eager to find out their exam marks. Michael already knew that he hadn't done poorly, but was as keen as any of the other boys. They had already had their marks for French and History. Michael had performed competently in both subjects. Marks in the sixties had placed him roughly in the middle of the class.
He watched as Mr Faulkner began to return the papers. Unlike the French and History masters, who had simply walked from one desk to the next, Mr Faulkner was dotting about all over the room, giving a paper to a boy here and another there. It seemed most odd.
Then the penny dropped. He was returning the papers in ascending order of marks, so Barnes, with a score of forty-three, was the lowest. Michael expected to receive his at any moment, but more than half the boys had already had their papers and he was still waiting. Finally, it arrived. He looked at the number in the circle at the top: 73.
"Well done," Mr Faulkner said quietly. "There's still room for improvement, but that's a very creditable effort."
Michael smiled. Seventy-three was more than he thought he'd get. Better still, he was nearer the top of the class than the bottom. Mr Faulkner continued returning papers. Newton's was among the last. He'd scored eighty-two. Ahead of him were Grainger with eighty-six, Locke with eighty-nine and class brain-box Carver with ninety-four.
"Okay boys," Mr Faulkner intoned. "Most of you have all performed competently or better, so well done for that. But a few of you need to think about why you didn't do a little better than you did. Next term, one of my priorities will be to make sure that you understand the work properly and that you do better next time."
Michael was impressed. Unlike their French and History masters, Mr Faulkner hadn't made a fuss of Carver and the others who'd scored high marks. He'd focussed on the boys who hadn't done as well, letting them know that he was going to help them improve.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Alex sat in his classroom waiting for Whitney to arrive. His day had gone swimmingly. In every class, the boys had been enthused by how well they'd done. It was exactly the reaction he'd hoped for. He'd had to give 3-Blue the news that they still had a lot of work to do in order to catch up with the other classes, but they'd taken it without a murmur.
And the positive reactions had been wonderful. In 3-Blue, Northam had visibly grown when he received his result, while in his fourth-year class, former bad-boy Chandler had been overwhelmed to have scored a respectable fifty-six, and Etheridge, who'd finished top with eighty-seven had come to thank him at the end of the class.
With no books to mark, he began to outline his plans for the following term. Suddenly Whitney strolled in, looking as freshly scrubbed as he always did on these occasions.
"I've spoken to Mr Smith," Alex said quietly. "What will you be doing next week?"
"I'm not sure, sir," Michael told him.
"Will your parents be at work?"
"Yes sir. They have to work Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday."
"Excellent! At Mr Smith's school, the choristers have to stay behind to sing in the Christmas services. He's suggested that we could go there next Tuesday afternoon. Would you like that?"
"Yes sir."
"And I assume that if your parents are working, you'd be able to meet me earlier than three o'clock."
"Yes sir. I could meet you anytime you want."
"Fine! I'll let Mr Smith know. I'll see you after school on Wednesday."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
"Right on time!" Gordon said, answering Alex's call. "So what's the verdict?"
"Yes, Whitney's parents will be at work, so we'll come over as you suggested. What time would you like us there?"
"Half past two would be ideal. But is it definitely Maitland that he wants to see?"
"That's what he said. As soon as I mentioned another meeting with you, he said he'd love to see Maitland again."
"And you didn't mention any other possibilities?"
"No. maybe I should have, but I didn't want to rush things."
"Yes, you may have missed an opportunity there. It's not a problem. Leave it with me. You make your arrangements. We'll speak again on Saturday."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
"Alex," Neil Fleming said as Alex collected his class register. "Would you come to my room at morning break, please. There's something I want to show you."
"Fine," Alex responded. "I'll be there."
He spent the next two hours wondering what it was the Neil wanted to show him. Finally, the bell sounded for morning break and after dismissing his class he strode along to Neil's classroom. On his desk Neil had four large sheets of squared paper. The top sheet displayed the first year exam marks. It was exactly the comparison that Alex had hoped to see.
He looked over them. At the top end, 1-Green had performed much the same as the other groups. The difference was at the bottom. Although he'd been disappointed with the performance of the weaker boys, in the other First Year classes, several boys had done considerably worse.
They moved onto the other sheets which displayed a similar pattern.
"The results your classes have produced are outstanding," Neil said quietly. "I'm pleased when I get results as good as that. If I didn't know better, I might have thought you'd taught the exam papers. But you need to stop being so hard on yourself. 3-Blue's results are remarkable. If you'd told me at the start of term that you'd have most of them back on track by Christmas, I'm not sure I'd have believed you. How long d'you think it'll be before you've caught up to the other groups?"
"Oh, we'll have caught up by Easter," Alex said quietly. "They're starting to believe in themselves now. They're beginning to realise that they're better than they thought they were."
"I'm going to have another word with the three reprobates, to see if I can talk some sense into them," Neil said. "You've done well with your Fourth Year group too. Chandler's result is unbelievable. Back in the summer he got less than twenty."
"Oh, that wasn't much to do with me," Alex countered. "After half term, he suddenly decided to start working. I've given him a bit of support and encouragement when he's needed it, but nothing out of the ordinary. He's not in the football team but he trains with us on Thursdays. I think that helps. I don't think I'd have done anywhere like as well with that group if I wasn't coaching the football team."
"I know you've concentrated on helping the boys who are struggling," Neil said. "What about the really bright ones, like the first year boy Carver?"
"Carver's far too full of himself," Alex said firmly. "He's hard working and meticulous. I don't see him as anything exceptional. The only boy I teach that really stands out is Calladine. I wish I could spend more time with him, challenge him a bit more, but I'm doing so much work with 3-Blue, I just can't fit it in."
"And I wouldn't expect you to," Neil said, smiling. "I think you're being a bit hard on Carver though."
Alex nodded. Was he being hard on Carver? Probably, but as well as being extremely conceited, the lad was physically unattractive. It was a combination he found hard to like.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
A week had passed. Somehow, Alex had managed to squeeze in an assignation with Whitney between the end of school on the final Wednesday and the Carol Service later that evening. And he'd enjoyed a far more relaxed time with him on the Saturday afternoon.
Since then, he'd had more time on his hands than he could use. The hours had dragged. But finally it was Tuesday and in just a few short hours he'd be taking Whitney to the cathedral prep school that he'd attended as a boy, the place where he'd learned about sex.
Just before one o'clock, he left the flat, got into his car and drove to the appointed meeting place. To his relief, Whitney was already there, dressed, as agreed, in his school uniform. Alex stopped the car right next to him. Whitney got in and they were on their way.
"So what have you been doing with yourself?" Alex asked.
"I spent most of yesterday with Chris," Michael told him. "We rode around on our bikes for a bit, but it was too cold. So we went back to his house and played cards. He's coming to my house tomorrow."
"Very good. What d'you do when he's not around?"
"Well, I read a lot. I've always loved reading."
"So what sort of things have you read?"
"Oh lots of things, King Solomon's Mines, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, Swallows and Amazons, The Railway Children, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer but I didn't like that much. I couldn't make sense of it. Oh, and I've read lots of the Biggles books, but I don't read them anymore. The last book I read was Lord of the Flies. Chris lent it to me. It's the best story I've ever read. It's about these boys from a really posh school who are shipwrecked on a desert island without any of their teachers. They turn into savages, or at least most of them do."
"Excellent! I've heard of that. I haven't read it yet."
"Oh you should, sir! I know you'd enjoy it."
"Well thanks for the recommendation. I'll make sure I do. And I know what you mean about Tom Sawyer. I've always found Mark Twain's stuff hard going. But I heard Life on the Mississippi on the radio, being read by someone with a real American drawl. Read like that, it made perfect sense. It was wonderful!"
This was by far the longest journey they'd undertaken together. After a while, they found it hard to keep the conversation going. They lapsed into silence, each of them quietly contemplating what was to happen when they reached their destination.
"Sir," Michael asked, as though out of nowhere. "Was this the school that you went to?"
"What gave you that idea?" Alex countered.
"You sang at the Carol Service. Newton said you were really good."
"So you put two and two together?"
"Sort of. So was it, sir?"
"Guilty as charged," Alex admitted.
"So was Mr Smith there then, sir?"
"Yes. He was much younger then of course."
"Wow! I bet you had a super time, didn't you sir?"
"I certainly enjoyed my time there," Alex agreed.
"I can't imagine going to a school like that. It's so different from what I'm used to."
"It was for me when I first went there," Alex said reassuringly. "I soon got used to it."
"So how old were you when . . . you know?"
"I was ten, the same as you were. I really liked Mr Smith, so when he started giving me extra attention, I didn't mind a bit. Well, one thing led to another. After a few weeks he introduced me to one of the older boys who showed me what it was really about."
"Did it hurt?"
"Of course. It always does the first time. I still wanted him to do it though."
"So was that where you started fucking other boys?"
"Yes. In my final year I fucked quite a few."
"Wow! I bet you enjoyed that!"
"Of course I did. And I've enjoyed it ever since."
Alex turned the car off the road, through a gate and into the Cathedral Close. Michael's eyes widened. This really was another world. He'd never been anywhere like this. Alex parked the car near what looked like a small house at the end of the school buildings.
"Well, here we are," Alex announced.
They got out of the car. Michael followed as Alex headed to the door of the house and rang the bell. A moment later Mr Smith appeared.
"Come in! he gushed. "I'm so pleased you could make it."
He led the way through to the lounge. Inside, the house was bigger than it had appeared, and was very posh. Michael was overawed. Alex was equally impressed. Gordon´s surroundings had improved considerably since his time as a pupil. Back then the young music master had just had two rooms within the school. Now, as a senior member of staff, he had a house in the school grounds.
"Sit down!" Gordon urged. "Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Please," his two visitors chorused.
"I'm afraid there's had to be a change of plan," Gordon said quietly, turning to Whitney. "Maitland's not well. This morning he woke up with a streaming cold. He's been confined to the sick bay so he doesn't infect any of the other boys. If he's not better by tomorrow, we'll probably ask his parents to take him home. There's no point in him being here if he can't sing. But don't worry. I've invited another boy to join us. He'll be here in a few minutes. I'm sure you'll like him."
They were just finishing their tea when there was a knock on the door. Gordon went to answer it. He returned a few seconds later. There was a boy with him. Michael was seriously disappointed. With silky blond hair, sparkling blue eyes and engaging smile, he was certainly very nice looking, but standing only four feet eight, he looked no more than eleven. He was hardly an adequate replacement for the athletic Maitland. But there was nothing he could do. In any case, he was still very horny. He'd just have to be polite and make the best of it.
"Hi," the boy said confidently, extending a hand. "I'm Holdsworth. You must be Whitney."
"Nice to meet you," Michael said, standing up to accept the handshake.
"Sorry Maitland couldn't be here," Holdsworth went on. "But we can still enjoy ourselves." He turned to Mr Smith. "Is it okay if we go upstairs now?"
"Certainly," Gordon said.
With Holdsworth leading the way, the four of them trooped up the stairs. Bringing up the rear, Alex was licking his lips. This was the boy that Gordon had told him about, and he was as perfect a specimen as he'd ever seen. Once the two boys had finished, he'd fuck the lad into oblivion. He followed them into a large well-appointed bedroom and closed the door.
"Come on!" Holdsworth said enthusiastically, grinning at Whitney. "Let´s get naked!"
In an instant, shoes and socks were pulled off, blazers and ties discarded. Before Michael had time to object, Holdsworth began undressing him. After hesitating for less than a second, Michael returned the favour. As their teachers looked on, the boys were quickly down to their underpants. Michael´s were the first to disappear.
"Beautiful cock!" Holdsworth said appreciatively, running his fingers along Whitney´s penis. "Maitland told me you had a nice one!"
Michael swallowed hard and pulled down his new friend´s pants. Alex caught his breath. Naked, Holdsworth was completely stunning. Slim without being skinny, his body was beautifully proportioned, his slim, uncut cock and pert little bottom an absolute delight. The boy was his idea of perfection, just as Gordon had said he would be.
Holdsworth jumped onto the bed, pulling Whitney on with him. Immediately, he wrapped his arms around the taller boy´s back, drawing him in close. Their cocks ground together, their hands roaming everywhere. Holdsworth´s enthusiasm was infectious. Michael was far more excited than he´d expected to be. Looking right into Holdsworth´s eyes, he opened his mouth and sensuously pushed out his tongue. The response was immediate. Within an instant they were kissing passionately, each boy´s tongue exploring the other´s mouth.
Breaking the kiss, Michael snaked around, his lips closing over Holdsworth´s penis. It was a good inch shorter and considerably slimmer than his own four and half inches, but it was so wonderfully hard, it didn´t seem to matter.
After a minute or so, they swapped over. Now divested of his clothes, Alex got his first proper look at Holdsworth´s bum. The eleven-year old´s anus was clearly visible, the chafing around it irrefutable evidence of the action it was getting. His heart rate rose rapidly. In just a few minutes, his cock would be buried in Holdsworth´s bottom, fucking the boy as hard as he knew how. He could hardly wait.
Having released Whitney´s cock, Holdsworth stretched out again, looking his new friend right in the eye.
"You can cum, can´t you?" he queried.
"Yeah," Michael responded.
"Maitland said you came in his mouth."
"Yeah, that´s right. He sucked me off while Mr White was fucking him. D'you want me to cum in yours?"
"Wouldn´t you like to fuck me?"
"I´ve never done that," Michael responded uncertainly, caught completely off-guard.
"That doesn´t matter. You must know what to do. Last year when Maitland took my cherry he´d never done it before. It was the first time for both of us."
"But you´re used to taking much bigger ones," Michael protested.
"That doesn´t matter," Holdsworth insisted. "Yours definitely isn´t the smallest I´ve taken. Come on! It´ll be fun!"
Still Michael hesitated.
"Go on," Alex urged. "You´ll enjoy it."
The decision was made. Mr Faulkner, or Mr White as he had to call him, had said he should do it.
"Okay," Michael whispered, barely able to get the word out.
"Better get you slicked up then," Holdsworth said confidently.
He picked up a tube of clear jelly and squeezed some onto his fingers.
"What´s that?" Michael asked.
"K-Y," Holdsworth told him. "It´s much better than Vaseline. You should get some. We use it all the time now."
He reached down, smearing the slippery jelly all over Whitney´s penis. Michael was impressed. It felt wonderful. The job completed, Holdsworth got onto all fours, his feet hanging over the end of the bed. Michael grinned. He´d lost count of the number of times he´d been in that position.
Sliding off the bed, Michael walked around behind the naked eleven-year old, guiding his cock onto Holdsworth´s bum-hole. He took a deep breath and pushed. It went straight in, fully impaling the lad with a single thrust.
In that instant, his life changed. Maitland had told him how good it would feel to have his cock up another boy´s bum, but he hadn´t really understood. He understood now. Having his cock inside Holdsworth´s tight velvety tunnel wasn´t just better than getting sucked off. There was no comparison. Was it twice as good? Or maybe five times as good? He neither knew nor cared. Sheer animal lust took over. He began to fuck, driving his cock over and over into Holdsworth´s tight little sheath. He thrust harder, faster, giving it everything he had.
"Oh yes!" Holdsworth squeaked. "Now play with my cock! Please!"
Michael was happy to oblige. He reached down, wrapping his fingers around the smaller boy´s throbbing penis.
"Oh! Oh! Ohhh!" Holdsworth gasped.
He shook from head to toe, his bum clamping tight around Whitney´s invading cock. In the next instant his penis jumped into life in the older boy´s fingers, trying desperately to pump out the spunk his balls had yet to make.
Michael had never experienced anything like it. In the same moment his orgasm was upon him. Gripping Holdsworth around the thighs, he thrust in as deep as he could, hanging on for dear life as his spunk spurted over and over into the eleven-year old´s rectum, feeling as though it might never stop.
Finally, it was over. He felt light headed, the room swimming in front of him. And he was gasping for air even worse than he did when they were made to sprint the length of the football pitch. Very slowly he began to recover. With his breathing returning to normal, he carefully pulled out. His cock was so sensitive, he couldn´t bear to touch it.
Holdsworth rolled onto his side. He smiled up at Whitney. Noticing the twelve-year old´s chest still rising and falling, he tapped the bed. Michael readily accepted the invitation, flopping down next to him.
"So how was it?" Holdsworth asked, looking right into Whitney´s eyes.
"Fantastic!" Michael breathed. "I never realised it´d feel as good as that!"
"Told you, didn´t I?" Holdsworth teased. "Well, it was wonderful for me too. So are you ready for Mr Smith now?"
"I think so," Michael said. "Are you ready for Mr White?"
"Definitely!" Holdsworth responded, giving Michael a cheeky grin. "He´s very good looking, isn´t he?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I suppose it´s time we did it then!"
Michael got off the bed. Mr Smith was sitting in a chair, waiting for him.
"Well done, young man!" Gordon congratulated. "You did splendidly! Right, you know what to do."
Michael got down onto his knees, taking the man´s large cock into his mouth. He sucked it steadily, being careful not to go down too far.
"Very good!" Gordon breathed, running his fingers through the twelve-year old´s hair. "Okay, up you get!"
Michael released the man´s cock and stood up.
"Turn round and bend over," Gordon instructed.
Michael complied without a murmur.
"You haven´t been fucked today," Gordon continued, inserting a greasy finger into the boy´s anus, "so we´ll need to get you ready."
The K-Y felt good up there too, Michael noted, his cock twitching in anticipation. After a few seconds the finger slid out.
"Right," Gordon said quietly. "Now sit on my lap."
Michael slowly lowered himself until he felt Mr Smith´s cock probing his bum-hole. Taking a deep breath, he pushed down, allowing the man to enter him.
"Oh, that´s wonderful!" Gordon whispered.
His hands pressed gently down on Whitney´s thighs, until his pubic hair was squished up against the boy´s bum. Without waiting to be asked, Michael lifted his feet, placing them on the edge of the bed.
Gordon placed his hand around Whitney´s balls, his thumb and index finger on the base of the boy´s cock.
"Please don´t rub my cock, sir," Michael asked politely. "It´s . . ."
"Don´t worry," Gordon cooed in his ear. "I understand perfectly."
On the bed, Alex was in ecstasy, the delightful Holdsworth licking and slurping on his penis. Seeing Whitney´s anus stretched around Gordon´s cock was simply the icing on the cake.
"Look how much Mr Smith has stretched Whitney´s hole." he whispered.
"Mmmm!" Holdsworth simpered. "Does that turn you on, sir?"
"Definitely," Alex confirmed.
"So would you like to fuck me now?"
"Yes, but I want to lick you out first. Get on all fours, please."
Holdsworth got into position. Alex knelt behind him, his tongue lapping at the boy´s recently fucked bum-hole. He pushed inside, getting the taste of Whitney´s boy-cum.
"Oh, you naughty boy," he breathed. "You´ve got Whitney´s spunk inside you. Okay, you´d better get me slicked up."
Turning around, Holdsworth squeezed some K-Y from the tube and smeared it all over the man´s cock.
"Maitland says you make lots of spunk," he said, giving the man a cheeky grin.
"I guess it´s time for you to find out," Alex shot back.
"So how you want me sir?" Holdsworth asked.
"On your tummy, there´s a good boy," Alex responded, pulling a pillow into the middle of the bed.
Holdsworth obediently flopped down, the pillow beneath his hips. After carefully spreading the boy´s legs, Alex lowered himself into position, his cock homing in on the boy´s anal ring. He pushed hard, penetrating the lad at the first attempt.
"Oooh, sir!" Holdsworth gasped.
"Just relax and enjoy it," Alex ordered.
After a moment to settle himself, he began to fuck. Gordon immediately took his cue, driving his cock upwards into Whitney´s bum.
"Lovely tight little bottom!" he whispered, right in the boy´s ear. "You like this, don´t you?"
"Oh yes, sir," Michael agreed.
He was transported to another world, his penis throbbing with excitement. On the bed in front of them, Alex was fucking Holdsworth unmercifully, thrusting his cock into the eleven-year old´s bum with all the force he could muster. Holdsworth was moaning and whimpering, spurring the young teacher to ever greater efforts. Suddenly the boy shuddered, his feet flailing wildly, his fingers digging into the mattress. As his bum clamped tight around the man´s cock, his little penis swelled and pulsed against the pillow.
"Oh, you sexy little boy!" Alex growled. "Now I´m going to fill your bottom!"
His cock jerked violently, sending prodigious quantities of thick creamy spunk into the eleven-year old´s bum.
"Oh yes!" Gordon gasped triumphantly. "Now take what I´ve got for you!"
He pressed down hard on Whitney´s thighs as his spunk spurted hard into the youngster´s rectum. Then it was over, like the calm after the storm. After around twenty seconds, Gordon gently lifted the boy clear, placing him on his feet. Michael´s bum was sore, but he´d expected that.
At more or less the same moment, Alex withdrew too. Holdsworth pushed himself up onto all fours. He was leaking profusely, the spunk running down his legs.
"Lick him clean," Alex said, turning to Whitney.
Michael hesitated.
"Go on," Alex insisted. "It´s only spunk. You´ll be fine."
Michael took a deep breath and did as he was asked, rather afraid that it would taste of poo. He was surprised to find it didn´t. It tasted of spunk, just as he´d been told. He licked higher and higher until his tongue was rimming his young friend´s well-fucked bum-hole.
"Okay," Gordon said. "You boys had better get to the bathroom."
Rather gingerly, the two boys left the bedroom, closing the door behind them.
"Was Maitland really unwell?" Alex asked, looking pointedly at Gordon.
"Don´t ask silly questions," Gordon said reprovingly. "I thought we ought to conduct a little experiment. I don´t know about you, but I thought it was a great success."
"Oh, it certainly was!" Alex conceded, grinning from ear to ear. "Holdsworth´s gorgeous, and so sexy!"
"I knew you´d like him," Gordon said. "I picked him out the day he came here for an audition. I don´t know what it was. I just knew he'd respond well when the time came. Fortunately, he sang beautifully. I´d have hated having to turn him down because his singing wasn't good enough."
"Oh, he´s extraordinary," Alex agreed.
"I thought you were a bit rough with him though. You gave him a real pounding. I don´t think he´s been fucked like that before."
"Sorry," Alex said. "He´s so beautiful I just couldn´t hold back. But he loved it! He had a dry-cum while I was fucking him."
"Yes, I noticed that," Gordon said drily.
"It took me right over the edge," Alex continued. "It always does when that happens. So wasn´t Maitland disappointed not to be seeing Whitney again?"
"Not really," Gordon said nonchalantly. "Last week I gave him permission to take Southcott´s virginity, that´s the ten-year old I´ve been working on. He´s been like a dog with two tails ever since. The two of them have probably been going at it while we´ve been here."
"Oh, I see," Alex said, smiling. "So how long before Southcott´s taking yours?"
"Oh that´s still some time away," Gordon explained quietly. "I need to build him up to taking this monster. I don´t want it to be any more painful for the lad than it needs to be. You should remember how it works. I´ll start by introducing him to Martin Ford. He´s not much bigger than Maitland. We´ll go on from there. You never know, you might even get there before I do. Being well above average in that area certainly has its drawbacks. But Whitney took it beautifully. So, as today's gone as well as it has, after Christmas, I'll ask Martin to contact you. He's only a couple of years older than you. He's a rising star, protégé of an old friend of mine, who's sadly no longer with us. I know you and Martin will get on well. I mentioned Jessop, didn't I, the lad he brought here a few weeks ago? Very nice! I'm not sure he was quite ready for me though. And I think you'd like Martin's older boy, King. He's just coming up to thirteen, about the same height as Whitney but slimmer. His cock's about the same size too. He's a wonderful fuck."
"Thanks," Alex said, relishing the prospect. "I'd really appreciate that."
It was as though all his Christmases had come at once. Not only had he just had the best sex he could remember, the prospects for the future were ones he hadn't dared to dream of.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Holdsworth sat on the toilet allowing the rest of Mr White´s spunk to run into the bowl.
"I don´t understand it," he said, looking uncomfortable. "Mr White´s cock isn´t as big as Mr Smith´s but I've got a sore bum."
"It´s because you were on your tummy," Michael explained. "You´re bum doesn´t open up properly when you´re stretched out like that. That´s what I´ve been told."
"Oh, I see. I don´t mind him making me a bit sore. He gave me an unbelievable fuck. Does he fuck you like that?"
"Yeah, sometimes. He´s fucked me in lots of positions, but I think that´s his favourite."
"He´s tried you in lots of different positions so you´d be ready when you met Mr Smith or one of his friends. So was it him that told you?"
"No, that was my uncle. The summer before last he showed me all about doing sex stuff."
"Oh right! So how old were you?"
"Ten, nearly eleven."
"And he went all the way?"
"Yeah, after a few weeks he did. It really hurt the first time it went in, but once he got going I really liked it."
"So how did you get together with Mr White?"
"When I started at grammar school, I was put in his form. He teaches us maths too. I just knew he liked boys. A few weeks later he was giving me some extra help with my maths because I´d messed up my homework. That´s when it started."
"Does he always make that much spunk?" Holdsworth asked, standing up and vacating the toilet.
"Usually," Michael said, quickly taking his place. "Maitland said it´s because he only does it a couple of times a week. Before today he hadn´t fucked me since last Saturday."
"Oh, I suppose that would explain it."
"You´ve had two dry cums in the last half hour," Michael said, eyeing Holdsworth´s stiff penis, "and you´re still hard."
"Yeah. Because I can´t actually cum yet, I can have them every few minutes."
"So are you ready for another one?" Michael asked, licking his lips.
"Sure, if you´re offering."
Holdsworth sauntered across to stand in front of the toilet.
"I´ll always be hard if there´s someone like you around," he said, giving Whitney a conspiratorial grin.
Michael leaned forwards, plunging down on Holdsworth´s rampant cock. He sucked it eagerly, as though it were the last chance he´d ever get.
"Oh yeah!" Holdsworth squeaked. "That feels so good! Please don´t stop!"
Michael had not the slightest intention of stopping, sucking the younger boy´s cock as though his life depended on it.
"Ooooh!" Holdsworth groaned, his muscles tensing up. "Oh fuck!"
He held Whitney´s head as his penis swelled and pulsed in the twelve-year old´s warm, wet mouth. As his orgasm subsided, he pulled away.
"Maitland told me you give super blow-jobs!" he said, smiling with obvious approval. "So are you ready for some more?"
"I´m not sure," Michael responded. "My cock´s still very sensitive. If I ask you to stop, you will stop, won´t you?"
"Yes, of course. Stand up then!"
As Michael got to his feet, Holdsworth knelt in front of him, his mouth engulfing the older boy´s cock. In this as in much else, Holdsworth was an expert. Sensitive though his cock still was, the sensations Michael was getting were exquisite. He certainly didn´t want the boy to stop. Suddenly, his breathing became short and irregular. All his muscles twitched.
"Ohh! He gasped, holding the younger boy´s head to steady himself. "I`m going to cum!"
A moment later, his penis jerked almost painfully. Little jets of clear boy-cum spewed onto Holdsworth´s tongue. After a few seconds, he gingerly pulled his cock from the younger boy's mouth. It was even more sensitive than before.
"Thanks," he acknowledged, still breathing hard. "That was fantastic!"
"Maitland told me about going to Mr White´s flat," Holdsworth said quietly as got up. "Do you live near there?"
"Yes, pretty close," Michael told him. "It takes me ten minutes on my bike."
"I only live about fifteen miles away," Holdsworth went on. "I´ll be here till Christmas morning, but maybe I could come over after that. I could come on the train."
"Yes, I´d like that," Michael said, smiling.
"If I did, would you have somewhere we could go?" Holdsworth asked quietly.
"I would once Mum and Dad have gone back to work."
"So when will that be?"
"Well, they´ve both got Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off work. Then it´s the weekend. And Dad says they´ve got Monday off too because Boxing Day is on a Saturday. So they´ll be back at work on the Tuesday."
"That´s the twenty-ninth?"
"Yes."
"So what if I came over on the Wednesday?"
"Yes, that would be okay."
"Are you an only child then?"
"Yes."
"I wish I was. I´ve got three sisters, two older, one younger. I hate being the only boy."
"Do your sisters go to boarding school too?"
"Oh yes. Mummy and Daddy are far too busy to have us at home all the time."
Michael thought that sounded harsh. Although his dad showed little interest, his mum was very supportive, always encouraging him to work hard and do his best. But somehow it hadn´t been quite enough. That´s why his Uncle Jack had become so important to him. Even so, he´d have hated being sent away to boarding school.
"Come on!" Holdsworth urged. "They'll be wondering where we've got to."
"You took your time," Alex commented as they strolled back into the bedroom.
"We were just getting to know each other," Holdsworth responded. "Weren't we Whitney?"
"Yeah," Michael agreed.
The boys quickly pulled on their clothes. As soon as they were dressed, Holdsworth ushered Whitney back out of the bedroom.
"Have you got a phone at home?" he asked in hushed tones.
"Yeah," Michael whispered.
"Quick, write the number down," Holdsworth ordered, handing him a pencil and a piece of paper.
Michael wrote down the number and handed them back.
"I'll call you," Holdsworth said, putting them in his blazer.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
"What d'you think those two are cooking up?" Alex asked.
"Probably some clandestine assignation," Gordon said. "Don't interfere. Let them get on with it. If Whitney wants to tell you about it, that's fine, but don't pry. It'll work out best in the end."
Alex looked a little askance.
"You've advised Whitney that he shouldn't tell his uncle everything he does," Gordon continued. "So you can't expect him to tell you everything, can you? Leave it. He may well want to tell someone. It can't be his uncle because he'd have to explain how he and Holdsworth met. So he may well tell you. But don't fret if he doesn't."
Alex nodded his understanding. Boys liked to have their secrets. He needed to respect that. Five minutes later he was driving home with Whitney sitting next to him.
"Sir," Whitney asked. "You really like Holdsworth, don't you?"
"Of course I do," Alex conceded. "I rather got the impression that you like him too."
"Yes sir, he's really nice. I never thought having sex with someone like him would be so exciting."
"Well that's fine then," Alex said, gently stroking Whitney's thigh. "Just because I like him doesn't mean I like you any less."
They lapsed into a contented silence. Alex thought it was probably the best day of his life. Now that Whitney was happy to play the active role, he would get opportunities to have sex with several other beautiful boys. Holdsworth was just the start. Southcott, Jessop and King all sounded delightful. And in just a few short weeks he'd have the chance to meet them.