Sons And Lovers

 

If you are of the opinion that boys should be clothed, modest and chaste at all times, and that men, including fathers, should have an interest only in the perpetuation of the species and never show any inclination towards the Classical Greek, then this fantasy is not for you.

It should not be for you either if you do have an inclination towards the Classical Greek but have not yet amassed a sufficient number of years for laws to permit you to indulge in any such inclinations however tempting they may be.

This little tale is not set in Classical Greece, but in an alternative to our modern world, one with proper showers and sanitation that may have some appeal to those who think the Ancient Greeks did get something right.

`Nifty' did not exist in Ancient Athens, Corinth or Sparta and it exists now only with the noble contributions made by some of its many readers: would you care to consider joining their number?

 

                                         Sons And Lovers

                                 A fantasy by Ivor Sukwell

 

The pride Henry Jackson felt for his two teenage sons was evident in his eyes, as it always was every time he saw them.

Of course, being teenagers, the boys were not perfect; they were often slow with their homework, they stayed out later at nights than they were supposed to, and he was sure that they had both indulged in teenage experimentation with alcohol, but his biggest problem with them, the one that created many words and scenes between father and sons, was their refusal to make use of condoms, no matter how many times he told them that they should.

"But it feels so much better without, Dad," Joe, the fourteen whined, "You wouldn't want to wank with a glove on, would you? So why put one on your cock when you shag?"

"And it's not like we can get pregnant," Sam, the fifteen, joined his brother's whine, "They're just fun spoilers, that's all."

"Be telling us we should put one on a cock before we suck it next!" Joe pouted, "Can't see you sticking one on your cock before one of us goes down on you!"

"Or using one when you screw us," Sam added his bit.

"Or make us do when we screw you!" Joe declared triumphantly.

The boys were right, of course, and the mere thought of having the wonderful sensation's of his boys' soft lips and talented tongues ruined by having a sheath of latex between them and his cock gave Mr Jackson the shudders. They'd had their compulsory anti-STD jabs when they were seven, so they couldn't catch anything and there wasn't anything to catch these days; sexually transmitted diseases were a thing of the past.

"Just you make sure I never catch you wanking!" Henry tried to have the last word, but fat chance of that – Joe and Sam were teenagers!

"We wank loads, Dad," Joe cheeked with an adorable grin, "Just never wank ourselves!"

Henry had to admit defeat and he did so gracefully, smiling affectionately at his two adorable sons. They looked so delightful and teenage delicious in their school uniform thongs, that it was impossible to be really angry with them, even when he should be.

The school regulation thongs were tiny works of art on the boys' adolescent bodies, almost non-existent straps that hugged the V that went from their hips to their genitals, but instead of the traditional cup that thongs used to have that just about covered genitals, these had a soft  tiny pouch that nestled beneath the balls, pouched them up and pushed out the cock so a boy was displaying his assets to the best advantage possible, be he soft or hard.

The strap that snugged into arse crack would hold a plug nicely in place if a boy was fitted with one, and plugs were compulsory for all boys aged from seven to eleven, and some schools insisted that all pupils must be so fitted, even the boys over eleven, in an effort to reduce the amount of in-school copulation.

"Fuck in your own time, not in school time," was the rule in such strict educational establishments, but Joe and Sam did not attend a school like that, though it did forbid fucking and sucking during actual lessons.

Some such rules were necessary as the thong was the sum total of any school's uniform and staff and pupils alike spent their schooldays surrounded by more-than-naked, desirable and desiring teen and pre-teen boys, and staff with mature and boy-experienced cocks.

The staff wore little more than their pupils, simply a short, open gown to denote their status and not conceal their maleness. They had no need for thongs, though some did affect a band that went around the base of the cock and under the balls and presented the genitals in much the same way as did the boys' thongs.

There were no girls, of course, to make boys feel queasy and find erections difficult to achieve, males and females led separate and distinct lives, not coming into any contact until they were no longer teens and had marriages arranged for them for the purpose of procreation, and frequently dissolved after, any boys produced living with their fathers and girls with their mothers, preferably out of sight and out of mind.

What women and girls did was of no interest at all to normal boys and men; there were perverts, of course, as there are in any society, but, sensibly, they tended to keep their unnatural behaviour away from ordinary folk. As far as the general population was concerned, as long as the women were kept out of sight, nobody was fussed.

The island that was known now as `Little Britain' was considerably smaller now than it had been when called `Great Britain' in the now distant past. Global warming had reduced its size and changed both its shape and its climate, so though still classed as `temperate', it was several degrees warmer than it once had been, making the wearing of clothing for warmth unnecessary, and for comfort undesirable.

That, combined with the enthusiastic adoption of certain characteristics of Ancient Greece, admittedly carried to an extreme even those liberal minded people had not achieved, meant that male nudity was the norm for all, even for the advanced in years, though they delighted eyes less than they had when young.

Sam and Joe were, as their doting father often remarked and congratulated himself on, two delightful examples of the beauty of the adolescent male. Tall, but not lanky, slender but not skinny, with firm and well-shaped thighs, they were designed for nudity. In that, they were nothing special; the youth of Little Britain prided itself on its sexual desirability. A boy could not help his facial looks, some were undoubtedly prettier that others, but any boy can keep his body in shape and attractive to other boys and men, and the adolescents of Little Britain wanted above all, to be desired and have their own desires satisfied.

Medical science had eliminated the need for any, man or boy, to shave a face or any other part of the body, and penile mutilation had long been banned so all had the cocks they were born with, though hopefully somewhat grown since then!

As to their ethnic origins, Great Britain had been a mixed and multi-cultural society before the seas rose and swamped it, and a new order and society had emerged from the flood. Some were still white, or black or brown or various shades of Oriental, but many were exotic and delightful mixtures, either by accident or design, but no matter what their racial origin or ancestral religions and beliefs, all the males of Little Britain were proud owners of cocks with foreskins.

"Got any one in mind today?" Sam asked his brother as they made their naked way to school, smiling enticingly at any who gave them admiring looks.

"Gonna flirt outrageously with Mr Bennett," Joe grinned, "See if he can hang out all through History without boning up."

"You fancy him?" his brother asked, "Know he's done a few lads in my class."

"Not really," Joe shrugged, "Course, I wouldn't say `no' if he made a move, cos he does have a well nice cock for an adult, but I wouldn't say I fancied him."

"Not like Monsieur Armand," Sam teased.

"Yeh, well, he's French, ain't he, and they're sposed to be really good at sex."

"Sposed to be," Sam agreed, "But you missed your chance there. Too old for him now."

"Yeah," Joe sighed, "But he only arrived this year, so I never had a chance, did I?"

"Nor me, of course," Sam also sighed, "Shame really. Bet he could have taught us a thing or two."

"Didn't think you were into men," Joe did some teasing of his own, "Apart from Dad, of course. Thought boys were your thing."

"Are," Sam confirmed, "And Dad's not really a man, is he, he's Dad."

"Got a man's cock," Joe sniggered.

"Yeah, and does fill you up nicely, don't it?" Sam giggled, causing a passing man on his way to work to pause, look and think he wouldn't at all mind filling Sam up, possibly with his brother for afters.

"That bloke's gonna be getting on his bus with a bone now," Joe chortled, he having not missed the man's lustful look. "Bet he looks for some kid to sit beside so he can show it off."

"Come on, then," Sam's sense of fun surged to the surface, "Let's see how many bones we can get to spring on the way to school."

"Go for it," Joe agreed, "But we gotta do it without boning up ourselves. Too easy if we're hard."

"First one to bone up gotta get bummed by a teacher," Sam made a dare of it.

"Deal," Joe giggled, thinking that if he lost he'd have a real go at Mr Bennett.

"In school time," Sam turned the screw a bit. There were no laws, rules or regulations that prevented teachers from screwing pupils, but not in school time. Sam was quite confident that he would not lose the dare – Joe was a year younger than Sam and had less cock control.

"Oh, come on!" Joe whined, "You know they can't fuck us in school."

"That's where you're wrong," Sam gloated, "They can shag us on school premises, just not in school hours."

That was the same rule the school applied to pupils, no sucking or shagging during lesson time.

"So how'm I sposed to get bummed by a teacher, then?" Joe pouted.

"You'll find a way," Sam sniggered, "Could go without lunch," he suggested.

Joe did lose the dare; his bone sprung some three hundred yards short of the school gates when he whispered, rather too loudly, to his brother, that one of the men who lined the way to school admiring boys and hoping to arrange something for later, had a particularly nice cock.

"He's well hot!" Joe almost dribbled, gazing at a cock that had to be, soft as it was, at least the dimensions of a hard Joe, "Wouldn't mind having that poking around inside me!"

The man, an athletically built specimen in his early twenties, overheard Joe's whisper, and when the boys reached him, he simply said, "Seven and a half hard, and you can sit on it after school."

"Bigger than Dad," Sam grinned at his brother, and that was sufficient for Joe to lose control and rise.

The man reached for Joe's stiffening teenage delight, thus completing Joe's rise to solidity and losing him the dare.

There was no possibility that, having achieved hardness, Joe would be able to soften again before he passed through the school door, his erection an irresistible target for men and boys all, and Joe was groped and felt as he trudged on beside his grinning brother, not quite five inch cock leading the way.

Not that Joe had any objections to being subjected to such intimate attention; he was fourteen after all and his cock ready and willing to receive all the attention and admiration it could get, and he didn't object either when Kerry O'Toole, a senior boy of seventeen, grabbed him, gave him a tongue-swapping kiss, and then went down and sucked him off in full view of a gathering crowd of excited schoolboys.

Once, many years ago, a playground fight would have drawn a crowd of cheering boys; now a school yard suck had a similar effect, boys gathering round to watch a cock being gobbled to completion, ejaculate consumed.

"Before home time, remember," Sam smirked at his freshly spunked up brother, "Or I'll tell Dad you wimped out on a dare and he'll make you sleep on your own tonight."

Sleeping alone was the modern equivalent of what was once known as `grounding', a simple punishment with dire consequences for a boy. Masturbation just was not done. The peer group social consequences of being known to have wanked just did not bear thinking about, and Joe had no doubts at all that, if he had to sleep alone, his bed would be inspected by both father and brother and the slightest hint of a cum stain anywhere would be seen, and Sam would gleefully spread the news round school that Joe had wanked.

No boy in Little Britain possessed a modern equivalent of a `cum rag', no underwear or sock to use at the moment of spurting and catch the evidence, hopefully to be sneaked unnoticed into the wash later, and even if he tried to catch it all in his hand and lick it off, a spurt would probably be missed, or a later dribble seep out, leaving damning evidence behind.

Worse still, he might endure the agony of a hard cock as he tried to will himself to sleep, somehow forcing his hand to leave that desperate hardness alone, only to drift into a restless slumber, his mind tormented by his present crush – in Joe's case a boy one year younger than he who he hadn't yet managed to get round to asking if he fancied a sleep-over – and his erotic dreaming would cause his cock to spurt while he slept, and to admit to a wet dream was worse even than having to confess to wanking.

The ridicule he would suffer would be unbearable.

This possibility of utter humiliation distracted Joe all the way through his first lesson, so much so that he could manage no more than a semi when the boy beside him had a grope and fondle, though that failure he was able to excuse, as by now everyone knew he had been sucked off just before school started, and even a boy of fourteen needs a little recovery time, especially as everyone also knew that would not have been Joe's first spunking of the day. He had a brother and a father, so his cock would have been bound to have seen some early morning action.

"They were both hungry this morning," he muttered by way of apology to Adam Henrik, the fourteen sitting beside him and helping himself to Joe's cock, "And you probably saw what happened on my way in."

"Lucky bugger," Adam grinned, "I've only been shagged. My balls are bursting." Adam was officially listed as a `deprived child', having only a father and no siblings to attend to his adolescent needs, so his home circumstances were less than ideal.

"Go down on you between lessons if you like," Joe charitably offered, "Unless you got someone in mind for break."

"Anyone who's hungry," Adam said, "Not the fussy type, am I?"

Adam did have the reputation of never turning down the offer of a wank or a suck and of not caring if the owner of hand or mouth was seven or seventy, but everyone put this down to Adam having a very possessive father who would not permit sleepovers and was very strict about allowing Adam out at all.

Adam suffered from the distressing medical condition known as `Deprived Cock', brought on not just by his father's restrictions on Adam's natural sexual life but also by that parent's lack of interest in cock himself. Adam's father was interested only in boy arse, and though he fucked his son often and regularly he never even touched his boy's desperate cock.

Term time poor Adam survived by making his cock available to any boy who fancied it, and as he did have a particularly nice cock, just under five inches, medium thick with a lovely long foreskin, he got sucked enough to keep him sane, but in school holidays there could be little doubt that the poor boy was reduced to furtive and secret wanking.

"No! Don't touch!" Adam hissed a whisper as Joe reached under their desk for him, "I'll spunk straight off."

Teachers always got stroppy about orgasms during lessons and the schoolboy code demanded that spunk should not be wasted, and going down on a boy during lesson time was against school rules, so Adam had to wait another twenty minutes before his balls could have some of the pressure relieved.

"Go down on you the second the bell rings," Joe assured the desperate boy. He'd spunked three times already this morning and he could only imagine what it must be like for Adam, who almost certainly hadn't cum since school yesterday, unless he'd managed one when his father fucked him.

"Thanks," Adam smiled gratefully.

"Not needed," Joe grinned, "If they're that full I'll get a delicious mouthful."

True to his word, Joe went down the instant the bell rang, even before the teacher stopped talking, but as Adam's problems were well known, the teacher didn't make a fuss and pretended to not have noticed.

"Fuck!" Joe grinned, Adam spunk duly consumed, "You must have been in a bad way." Adam had spurted almost before his cock was properly in Joe's mouth, and he had filled Joe's mouth full to the brim with teen cream.

"Was," Adam breathed, "Thanks, Joe. Don't think I could have lasted another minute."

Even though he'd just spunked, Adam's cock was still hard and in need of more attention and he grabbed his things and dashed out, hard cock pointing the way, hoping for another mouth before the next lesson started.

Joe, not for the first time, found himself wishing he could get Adam round for a sleepover. Not only did he have just about the nicest cock going, but he was good looking as well and had a really yummy teenage body and always as needy as fuck. He'd have a great time sharing a bed with Joe, Sam and their dad, and no way would his balls have anything left in them by the time he left to go home.

Joe though, had more pressing concerns; somehow he had to get fucked by a teacher before home time, and that meant lunchtime was the only real chance, so his flirting with Mr Bennett next lesson would have to be more than just an attempt to get his teacher hard.

Boys of fourteen are not especially good at subtle, and living as they did in an environment where it was completely acceptable and normal to say to another boy that you fancied fucking him or being fucked by him, and to make it absolutely plain to an adult that you were up for his cock, if men rather than boys were your thing, though almost all boys were, in that sense, bisexual, Joe's efforts to flirt with his teacher amounted to little more than indications that he wanted teacher cock in his arse.

Mr Bennett did not spring a bone when Joe practically begged for his cock – he spent every day of his working life surrounded by naked adolescent boys and had long learned how to control his erections – and when the bell rang for the end of the lesson, he sternly told Joe to report to his office at the beginning of the lunch break, his tone and manner indicating that he intended to reprimand and possibly discipline Joe for his behaviour.

Sam, as his brother had rightly said, was much more into boys than men, younger boys. His current crush was an eleven year old wonder who was as total a mix of the human palette as it would be possible to get. Tim Wang had a body from South East Asia, the sort that looks fifteen when it's really fifty, but blessed with a cock out of Africa that, though still a dry eleven, was only an eighth of an inch short of four when active.

Being eleven, Tim was naturally both flattered and chuffed that a fifteen had a crush on him; he had a brother, but he was only nine, so Tim had  no out-of-school teen cock to enjoy, though naturally, being eleven, a number of men appreciated his pre-teen assets.

There being only a hundred or so boys in Sam's school – Little Britain's total population was less than the number that had once inhabited a long drowned city called London – so meeting another boy between lessons was a simple matter, and there was a built-in gap between lessons specifically so boys could meet and greet, and Sam found Tim waiting for him and promptly greeted the delicious pre-teen with a mutual tonsil search.

Tim, being only eleven, was regulation plugged, and Sam made sure that as he squeezed the peach halves of Tim's perfect arse while they snogged, he gave the plug end a tap or several to make it move a bit inside Tim and increase the fervour of his snogging.

"Love the way you make my arse feel when you do that," Tim breathed as Sam tapped a beat on the base of his plug, "Sends tingles all around my insides."

"Give you some bigger ones if I could get my cock in there," Sam nibbled the pre-teen's ear.

"Mmmmmm, promises, promises," Tim flirted, holding Sam's hardness and rubbing it gently, and sighed happily when Sam returned the favour, but rubbing with more enthusiasm.

The conventions regarding pre-teens were quite complicated; they could do pretty much anything they wanted amongst themselves, but their plugs could only be removed when they were at home or on a parentally approved sleep over, and even then they could only be fucked if specific consent had been sought and given. If Sam wanted to fuck Tim, which he most certainly did, as an older boy, he had to date Tim first, obtain Tim's father's consent to the date, and then obtain permission for a plugless sleep over, all of which really amounted to having to ask Tim to be his boyfriend, and when you had a boyfriend you were expected to leave all other boys' arses alone, apart from any siblings, of course.

Sam wasn't sure he wanted the commitment of a boyfriend; sure he liked Tim and the boy did have an amazing body for an eleven, and sex with him was bound to be, at the very least, good, but did Sam want to give up fucking other boys?

Tim did want the kudos of being eleven and having an older boy boyfriend; just about every other plugged boy had to make do with a daddy and secret, unauthorised sex. There were always plenty of men after the pre-teens, men who were more than happy to take a ten or eleven somewhere quiet and talk him into letting his plug be taken out for an hour or so, but Tim wanted the fame and glory of walking round school, holding hands with a fifteen and having proper, legitimate sleep overs, making his plugged peer group green with envy.

"Wank me to a dry one while we snog," Tim murmured seductively; he knew he had a really good cock for an eleven – there were several thirteens who had less than Tim – and he hoped that the more of his cock Sam had the more the fifteen would want the rest of him, and Sam could only get that if he asked him out on a date.

Tim's status amongst his peers was already pretty high; he had the biggest plugged boy cock for starters, and being wanked properly and snogged at the same time by a fifteen between lessons where anyone could see and watch would lift his status into the stratosphere.

Other plugged boys in the school already knew what it was to have teen cock inside them, but they were all boys with older brothers; Tim was the only one of his kind who had an older boy meet him between lessons and snog and wank him. Sure, a few plugged kids did have an occasional meet with a teen, but when they did it was always the teen's cock that got the attention, never the insignificant cocks of the plugged boys.

A small crowd gathered to watch Tim being snogged and wanked by Sam, and Tim kept his eyes tight shut, a look of pure enjoyment on his face  as Sam worked him to dry orgasm, making it plain to everyone watching how wonderful it was for an eleven to be snogged and wanked by a fifteen. Even before the bell rang for the start of the next lesson, Tim knew that the news would be all round the school, enhanced by word of mouth to be a major rumour that Sam was about to date him, if he hadn't already done so.

"Meet me for lunch?" Tim breathed loud enough for watchers to hear, "We can go out to the field and sixty-nine if you want."

"That right?" Luke Mally asked Sam as they slid into their desk for Maths, hands automatically reaching for each other's cocks, "You're dating Tim Wang?"

"What gave you that idea?" a slightly concerned Sam asked. Schoolboy morals were strict; you did not do boyfriend stuff with a boy who was not, or not intended to be, your boyfriend. Teens could fuck each other on a casual basis with no problems, but the slightest hint of romance involved and casual was no longer acceptable.

Even worse if it was a teen and a pre-teen; any teen could fancy an occasional suck from a younger boy, but to go beyond that, to wank or actually suck a plugged boy could only mean either romance or a crude and clumsy attempt at seduction; an attempt to gain permission for a sleep over, and thus for a fuck, and then dropping the boy once his arse had been sampled.

Behaviour of that sort just was not tolerated.

"Can't say I blame you," Luke said as he brought Sam upright, "Not into plugged ones myself, but yours does have a decent cock for an eleven and a really peachy arse."

Tim did have a really peachy arse, and Sam wanted to taste and fill it, but did he want a boyfriend?

"Five!" Jules le Monde sucked in his breath and gasped the word from between gritted teeth as the sting of Henry Jackson's expertly wielded cane surged through him.

Jules was a pleasingly slender, dark-haired seventeen, a junior in Henry's office at the Department of Passports and Visas, and he had another fifteen cane strokes to count his way through yet to come.

Red stripes were being laid over the brownish purple ones from yesterday, and those, in turn, were over the yellowing ones from the day before.

Jules' arse was a veritable rainbow of cane produced colours, and, of course, as his arse was never covered, everyone could see that he was caned on a daily basis.

That did not concern Jules in the least; he enjoyed being caned and thought he was really lucky in being assigned to Henry Jackson, a man who liked caning boys and was an expert in inflicting just the right amount of pain.

Jules wasn't over-bright and had left school at sixteen, obtaining employment in Immigration, hoping to rise and become a Border Officer, not a job requiring much in the way of brains, but a task within the limited capacity of Jules.

His task as  a Junior was to learn how a Visa application should be properly completed and to provide an arse for Henry Jackson to cane. He was quite slow at the former, but exceptionally good at the latter and got on very well with his boss, eagerly providing not only his arse, but any other part of his body that Henry fancied caning or strapping, for the pain he so desired.

"Six!" he gasped as Henry swatted his arse again, and the wonderful sting surged through him.

Henry had put a condom on him this time, as he sometimes did, so he knew he would be caned to a fantastic orgasm, the condom there to catch his spunk so he could eat it after, something Jules loved being made to do.

Henry paused after six, gently massaging Jules' stripe reddened arse, easing the pain just a bit so Jules would be desperate for more. A thoughtful and considerate man, Henry was always concerned to ensure that any boy he caned enjoyed things to the full, just as he tried his very best to make sure his two sons enjoyed it when he fucked them.

He had never caned either Sam or Joe, not even used a crop on them, restricting his S and M pleasures to work, and now he had a willing daddy's boy as his Junior, he could indulge in those pleasures every weekday.

Henry was Jules' working day daddy; the boy would have gladly had Henry as a full-time daddy – weekends were a torment for him, two whole days without physical punishment – but Henry wanted to keep his weekends free to enjoy his teenage sons and be a proper father to them, something he wouldn't be able to do if Jules was full-time.

Naturally, Henry, being a bit of a sadist, understood the torment Jules suffered at weekends, but, all things considered, that added to the pleasure. By Mondays Jules was desperate for the cane, and Henry added to his torment by giving him only a couple of teasing strokes on a Monday, adding to them two at a time throughout the week, until, by Fridays, Jules was pleading and begging for a proper, agony filled thrashing that would bring him to a massive, condom filling orgasm.

"Seven!" Jules yelped when the next stroke landed, Henry deliberately aiming low so the stripe bloomed just at the point where thigh becomes arse, one of the most painful parts on the rear of a boy's body.

Henry considered leaving Jules' arse alone for a few and caning instead the back of his thighs, but that would cause the boy too much pain and probably bring him to spunking before he got to twenty, so he stuck to arse for the rest. It was a bonus enough for Jules in that this wasn't a Friday, so he'd have his spunk caned from him twice this week, and if that wasn't being kind and considerate, what was?

Henry did though, add a little something, not pausing between fifteen and twenty, landing the next before Jules had time to absorb the pain of the last, and not enunciating the number as each one landed, but howling in agony, his knees buckling and his body twisting and contorting as he was thrashed mercilessly to orgasm.

Jules was still trembling form the violence of it all as he carefully peeled off the condom and sucked his sperm from it, the utter humiliation of that keeping his untouched, though spunked, cock hard.

"Good boy, Jules," Henry congratulated him, "You're coming on very nicely. As a reward, I'm going to let you choose how you fancy being caned on Friday."

"Somewhere it will really hurt," Jules whimpered, "Stomach and nipples, maybe?"

"Mmm, possibly," Henry said thoughtfully, "With your balls tied up so you don't spunk too quickly, and a nice little clip on your foreskin to add that extra something."

"Oh, please," Jules moaned, "And a gag for when I scream."

"I trust you have some explanation for your behaviour?" Mr Bennett asked Joe as he stood in the teacher's office, hands clasped behind his back.

This wasn't at all what Joe had hoped for; he'd wanted to get Mr Bennett to fuck him, but instead it looked as though he was to be punished.

School punishment was simple and cruel; a sentence to the `Lonely Desk', a single desk placed on its own in the centre of the classroom. A punished boy had to sit there on his own, hands always on the desktop, with every other boy in the class looking at him and willing him to get hard.

A boy might be able to last an hour or two leaving his cock untouched if he stayed soft, but schoolboys were used to having their cocks felt and fondled all day long, and having other cocks to feel and hold, and once stiffness came the temptation to play with himself became unbearable.

Usually a boy had to suffer that torment for just a single lesson, but longer sentences could be given for serious misdemeanours, as much as a whole week was not unheard of.

"I lost a dare with my brother, Sir," Joe mumbled. There was no point in fabrication, to be caught out in a lie would only lengthen his time in the  Lonely Desk and Joe had no wish for that.

"And the nature of that dare?"

Joe recounted his walk to school, the harmless game of seeing how many men they could get to spring a bone while staying soft themselves, and the forfeit they would have to pay if they did bone up before entering the school.

"And you chose me," Mr Bennett, said calmly, leaving the `Why?' unasked.

"I had French first lesson, Sir," Joe blushed.

Mr Bennett nodded and restrained a sympathetic smile; at fourteen, Joe was two years past his 'fuck by' date as far as his French teacher was concerned.

"Teachers fucking boys during schooltime is expressly forbidden," Mr Bennett sterned.

"I know, Sir," Joe mumbled, "That's why it has to be now, Sir, during lunch."

"Even so, it is not something I approve of," Mr Bennett admonished, "However, I approve even less of your brother attempting to oblige you to wank tonight. Boys of Little Britain do not wank!"

"No, Sir, I know, Sir, and I never do, Sir. Not myself anyway."

"Wanking other boys and being wanked by them is perfectly natural and permissible," Mr Bennett confirmed, "And I have no wish to encourage you in unnatural behaviour, so remove your thong and place yourself over the desk."

"Oh yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," Joe gushed in relief and ripped his thong off as fast as he could and was almost in position over Mr Bennett's desk when he suddenly remembered something very important.

"Please, Sir," Joe said, standing again, "It's really good of you to fuck me, but my brother is not going to believe me if I just say you did, Sir. I need to be able to prove it to him."

"You have your phone in your bag, I assume?" Mr Bennett paused in his retrieval from a desk drawer of a tube of lube.

"Yes, Sir."

"Then a photo on there of the moment of penetration should suffice, should it not?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," Joe enthused, "But, Sir, do you think you could manage to get some of your gown in the photo so it's obvious that it's a teacher bumming me?"

"That can be arranged, and also the time of the photo, if," Mr Bennett grinned wickedly and licked his lips, "I  go straight in, no fingering first to open you up."

"That's blackmail, Sir," Joe sniggered and took a good look at his teacher's now upright cock. "You look a bit bigger than Dad, Sir, so will you lube me up well first? And, Sir, no condom please, Sir."

"I never fuck boys who ask for one to be used," Mr Bennett sniffed derisively, "And my spunk dribbling down the backs of your legs all afternoon should serve as a reminder to you to not enter into foolish dares."

"Yes, Sir," Joe said meekly, "And, Sir, would you take one of my hole leaking your spunk as well? Proof that you really fucked me and the first pic isn't just a set up?"

"Less lube then," Mr Bennett smirked, "Nothing in this world is for free, boy."

"Well?" Tim demanded. He'd run all the way from his last lesson so he could be waiting outside the door of Sam's classroom when the older boy emerged.

When he had, Tim had hurled himself into a clinch, opening his mouth for deep snogging there and then, not caring who saw but hoping many did. The more credence he could give to the starting rumour that Sam was dating him, the better. If enough believed it, then Sam would have no choice; he would have to ask Tim out or be scorned by everyone as being a boy who was just trying to get an eleven to take his plug out for him.

"So do you still want me for lunch?" Tim asked, loud enough for anyone near to hear. "You said a sixty-nine."

"Actually, it was you who suggested that," Sam could not help but smile at the seriously delicious pre-teen who snogged so enthusiastically and had a really nice cock for an eleven, "But no matter, I'd love to sixty-nine with you."

"Would you? Oh goody," Tim enthused, "I really want to eat your spunk. I bet you have yummy, tasty spunk. All nice and thick and lots of it, too."

"Enough to give you a decent mouthful," Sam grinned, "I haven't cum since before breakfast."

"Oh, yum, yum, yum," Tim actually jumped up and down in delight, but still managed to check if there was anyone still close enough to hear, and, as there was, he sniggered, "Did you save it up for me?"

"No I didn't," Sam smiled, almost affectionately, and, foolishly because there were listening boys, he added, "Will tomorrow, though."

Tim was as good at sucking as he was at snogging and Sam had a really enjoyable lunchtime and couldn't help wondering just what Tim would be like to fuck. If he was even half as good as he was at everything else, he'd be a wonder in bed, and, being only eleven and still dry, he'd last for absolute ages without needing to recover.

Of course, the only way Sam could find out how good Tim was in bed was by dating him, and he still wasn't sure he wanted a boyfriend. But Tim was magic at snogging, amazing at sucking and absolutely super keen on sex, and, for an eleven he did have a well decent cock.

"You have time for another one after school?" Sam asked as they made their way back inside at the end of lunch.

"Oh, yes please, Sam," Tim chirruped loudly, "Specially if you don't cum again till then. I love your spunk."

"Fuck it!" Sam thought halfway through Geography, "If it's anywhere near as good as lunchtime, I'm gonna ask him out!" It was the only way to get at Tim's peachy arse and Sam was developing a craving for that arse.

It would mean he'd have to give up casual fucking of course, but he'd still have Joe and his Dad, so it wouldn't be like having to go completely without. Tim was well into it as well, so there was a decent chance that, after a week or two, Tim would be up for both of them getting some extra cock now and again, though, of course, Tim wouldn't be able to take one as he was a plugged boy.

"Don't spose there's any chance you'd fancy going out with me, is there?" Sam asked after he'd sucked Tim to a couple of dry ones and Tim had eaten his spunk with a relish that boys of his age usually reserved for ice cream.

"Like on a date?" Tim asked, wide eyed with pretend innocence, "Like a boyfriend type date?"

"Yeah, well, spose so." Sam hadn't asked anyone out before and was finding the experience some what embarrassing, even more so because the boy he was asking out was a plugged eleven.

"Really?" Tim managed a suitable blush, something he'd practised quite a bit in front of a mirror at home, "You want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yeah. Well." Poor Sam was lost in his total ignorance of romance. "Yeah. Like, well. I mean. Oh, forget it. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you or nothing. Pretend I never said nothing. Sorry."

"Oh no!" Tim gushed, "I'd love to be your boyfriend! I think non-stop  about you and how lovely your spunk tastes when I'm being wanked or sucked. Please, Sam," Tim fluttered his eyelashes, something else he'd practised, "Ask me again. All sweet and gooey. Please, Sam."

Sam was beet red, wanted nothing more than a bucket of ice cold water to dunk his head in and quench his burning cheeks; it was all so much harder than asking a boy if he was in the mood for a fuck.

"Please, Tim," Sam managed to croak, "Will you go out with me? Be my real, proper boyfriend?"

"Oh, yes, Sam! Yes, yes, yes!" Tim hurled himself at red-faced Sam, demanding an instant, confirmatory snog, and snogged Sam in such a way that any lingering doubts the older boy may have had about having this particular eleven as a boyfriend disappeared in a twisting of tongues.

Obtaining the necessary permission from Tim's father was even more embarrassing than asking Tim out had been.

Tim gave Sam no time to reflect and possibly change his mind, Sam was hustled straight to Tim's house almost as soon as they finished snogging.

Tim's father was an impressive specimen and looked some years younger than Sam's parent and it was immediately obvious where Tim inherited his equipment from. Any boy into man cock would have been on his knees in a flash!

"So," Tim's father said slowly, "You want to fuck my boy."

Sam went red again and stuttered.

"I want to date him, sir," Sam eventually managed.

"Which means you want to fuck him," Tim's dad said, stating the obvious. "Teen boy your age wants to fuck an eleven. You like plugged arse? Perhaps you've had his plug out already in some bushes somewhere."

"No, sir!" Sam protested, but Mr Wang made a point of inspecting Tim's plug anyway.

"Jacob here," Mr Wang pulled Tim's younger brother forward, "He's nine. You fancy his arse as well? Or more, perhaps, as he's even younger than my Tim."

Jacob looked as though he was thoroughly enjoying things, grinning like the proverbial cat, and suggestively licking his lips as he checked Sam out.

Sam wanted to drop into a hole in the ground, the deeper the better.

"Please, Dad," Tim did his best innocent pre-teen boy impersonation, "I really like Sam."

"He does, Dad," Jacob sniggered, "He's always sighing, 'Sam, oh, Sam,' when I suck him."

It was Tim's turn to go red and he flashed his brother a look of pure evil.

"That true, son?" Mr Wang fixed Tim with a truth serum stare, and Tim confessed that it was, and he did that when Jacob wanked him as well.

"I'm not having no bad things said about my boys," Mr Wang did his best Victorian father gig, "So I won't have Tim dated, fucked and dumped. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Sam gulped.

"You date Tim proper or you don't date him at all. I'll be calling in at your school to check. You not seen regularly holding his hand when you not in lessons, and I'll make sure you get the lonely desk for a whole term!"

"Yes, sir," Sam whispered.

"Alright, then. You take Tim somewhere nice on Friday and I'll bring him round on Saturday for his sleepover. Your father can witness his unplugging so there's no suggestion of anything underhand. But it's only you gets to see him without his plug in. I'll have no impropriety, no letting any brothers have a go at him as well. Is that clear? You and Tim only in a bed. Separate room as well."

"Well, boys," Henry Jackson asked his boys as the family sat for supper, something Henry was very sure his office junior would not be doing, "Good day at school?"

"Joe lost a dare on the way to school," Sam gloated, "So I don't suppose his day was all that good."

"Was well good, actually," Joe responded, "I had to get shagged by a teacher before home time, and I did."

"No way!" Sam's ghast was flabbered.

"Yes way," Joe triumphantly put his phone on the table, "And got evidence to prove it."

"Well done, son," Henry approved, studying carefully the pic of Joe's open, leaking hole, "That's definitely your arse, no doubt about it. Very clever of you to get a shot of it; Sam would probably not have believed you if you hadn't. Well done," Henry said again and gave his younger son's cock and balls a congratulatory fondle.

"Thanks, Dad," Joe fed his brother a gloating, `beat that, wimp' look. "How about you, Dad? You get a chance to use your cane at work today?"

"Oh, yes," Henry smiled "Thrashed Jules' arse till he spunked. He'll not be sitting down for supper tonight!"

"Thought you saved that for Fridays, Dad," a surprised Sam said, "So his arse has the weekend to recover a bit. What you gonna to tomorrow?"

"He's got legs, hasn't he?" Henry shrugged, "But he wants something special this Friday, front only above the waist."

"Tits and armpits," Joe said enthusiastically, "Well make him scream."

"Use a really thin, whippy one, Dad," Sam advised, "Have some real fun."

"Oh, I will, you can count on that," Henry smiled. "And what about you, Sam? Your day go alright?"

"I'm going to need the spare room Saturday night, Dad," Sam was a bit embarrassed about revealing his news, Tim was an eleven after all.

It took Joe a moment to comprehend and then his face burst into a huge grin.

"You didn't, did you? You actually asked him out?"

"Did," Sam confessed, "And his dad said yes."

"Who we talking about?" Henry wanted to know.

"Tim Wang, Dad," Joe supplied the name, "He's an eleven and Sam's had the hots for him for weeks."

"Eleven?" Henry raised his eyebrows in a query.

"You'd never know it from his cock, though, Dad," Joe leapt to his brother's defence, "Easily as big as loads of thirteens."

"And he's seriously hot, Dad, cock crazy, and snogs and sucks amazing. We had two sixty-nines today," Sam boasted.

"Cock or not, he's still an eleven," Henry turned serious, "You can't just bum him and drop him, Sam."

"Don't intend to, Dad. Sorta rather like him," Sam blushed.

"Romance in the air?" Henry smiled fondly.

"Spose, so," Sam blushed more.

"Well, it sounds as though we all had a good day," Henry said to spare his older son any more blushes, "Let's have a good night as well."

 

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