THE HUNTING SEASON

by Pink Panther

Hi guys! And so the story moves on. Another change you will notice as things move forward is that the pace will increase. As I focus more on key events, there will be gaps in the timeline, a few days here, a couple of weeks there. I hope that will help to keep it interesting.

Thanks for the feedback to chapter 33, which was most encouraging. Please keep it coming! Send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Once again, may I ask you to support Nifty, which relies on readers' donations to keep operating as a free site. Please give generously!


CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

September 1960

As soon as Michael arrived at school, he found Chris waiting for him.

"You know about Jez moving away, don't you?" Chris asked.

"He told me last Monday," Michael said. "I asked him if he wanted me to tell you, but he said he'd rather tell you himself."

"I'm going to miss him a lot. But I think it could be good for him, you know, moving off the council estate, going to a better school. I told him to get stuck in and make a success of it."

"That's pretty much what I said. He was still rather upset. He was really worried about he was how he's going to meet other boys like us."

"Yeah," Chris said, smiling. "He told me that. It's not that other boys like us don't exist. It's like you told him; everyone has to keep so quiet about it. I think we were really lucky to find each other the way we did. It's strange though. This time last year, sex didn't even exist as far as I was concerned. Then a few months later, my body began changing, my cock started to get hard for no reason, and suddenly I was thinking about it all the time."

"I remember I'd pretty well given up on the idea that you might be interested when right out of the blue you asked me if I played with my cock."

"That was so scary! I thought you'd bite my head off and kick me out of the house. But I had to do it. There was no-one else I could talk to. Now, when I think about everything that's happened since, it seems like it was ages ago."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

For Alex, the first three days of the week simply flew past. Almost before he knew it, it was Wednesday afternoon and he was heading for the pavilion to supervise the final trial for the under-12 football team.

As they had reduced the squad to twenty-two, they could all fit into one changing room. As soon as Alex had changed, he popped his head in. Seven or eight boys were still getting into their football kit.

"Hurry up lads," he urged. "We need to get started."

He made his way outside where Gerry Forbes was waiting, the rest of the squad sitting on the grass in front of him. Once again, the boys were wearing numbers.

"Here's the list," Gerry said, handing Alex a clipboard. "Now we've got it down to a manageable number, it shouldn't be too difficult."

The last few boys made their way from the pavilion to join the others. While Gerry made the introductory announcements, Alex looked them over. He'd been right. The squad contained several good looking boys, including three – Beckett and two others – whom he considered to be really beautiful.

He quickly checked his list. Wearing number 7 was Monk. About the same height as Bradshaw, and with the same slim, wiry physique, the lad had blue eyes, hair that was somewhere between light brown and fair, a light dusting of freckles over his nose, and the most mischievous smile imaginable. He was cuteness personified.

Number 18 was Pennington, a little taller than Monk, and slim without being scrawny. He had hazel eyes, slightly wavy chestnut-brown hair and perfect features. With the names Beckett, Monk and Pennington fixed in his brain, Alex allowed himself a smile. He'd learn the other names soon enough.

The trial consisted of a series of short games using different combinations of players. As Gerry had predicted, it soon became clear who should be in the team and who shouldn't, with only a couple of places in dispute. In less than an hour, they'd decided on the final eleven.

"Who are you going to nominate as captain?" Gerry asked.

"Wade," Alex said. "He's got a real presence on the pitch, and his form master speaks well of him."

"Hmmm! I thought you might go for Bradshaw. You teach him, don't you?"

"Yes, but that's the problem. He's the best mathematician the school's had for a number of years. I'm teaching him one-to-one. Making him captain could have looked like favouritism. I wouldn't want that. It wouldn't be fair on him."

"Oh, I understand that perfectly," Gerry said, smiling. "Wade's a good choice. Okay, they're all yours! You did superbly last year with the under-15s. You'll find this a bit different, so if you need any advice, Richard and I are always willing to help."

"Thanks," Alex said, although he really wasn't taking it in.

As Gerry strode away, he looked at the boys sitting on the grass in front of him. He'd waited a whole year for this, and now they were his.

"Right boys!" he said so that they could all hear him. "Before I announce the team for Saturday's match, I want to say how well you all did. We'll train after school every Wednesday, and even if you're not in the team right now, I want you all to keep coming. During the course of the season, there'll be boys off sick, maybe one or two boys injured. So it's important that we have boys we can put in. That means that some of you that aren't in the team this Saturday will get a game at some point in the season, maybe several games. The other thing you need to understand is that our best eleven now may not be our best eleven next year or the year after. Some of you will get better, others won't be doing quite so well. It's what happens as you grow up. So please stick at it. If you keep working, your chance will come. Okay, this is the part you've been waiting for."

He read out the list of eleven names.

"The team captain will be Wade," he continued. "In addition, Downton and Thorpe, I want you to come along as reserves, with your kit, in case someone doesn't show up on the day. It's a home match, so we will meet here at 9:15. If any of the rest of you would like to come and support, you'd be more than welcome. Right, back to the changing room, strip off and into the showers!"

He followed them in. Of the three especially cute boys, Beckett and Monk were in the team; Pennington was not. Despite his athletic appearance, the lad was not very quick, nor was he particularly agile. Monk, Bradshaw and a couple of the other boys had run rings round him.

Appearances could be very deceptive, he reminded himself. Whitney was a prime example of that. The biggest lad in his form, he looked very athletic too. In reality, he was well below average and seemed to hate every aspect of sport and games.

Overall, Alex was very pleased with the way things had turned out. In addition to Beckett and Monk, the team included Bradshaw and two other boys he'd classified as `very nice looking', while the reserve squad contained Pennington and three more lads in the `very nice looking' category.

As the boys took off their kit, Alex went around the room, urging those who weren't in the team to keep coming to training. He made a special point of speaking to Pennington.

"Don't be too disappointed that you're not in the team," he said, giving the lad a blast of his most charismatic smile. "If you keep working at it, you will get better."

"Yes, sir!" the boy replied, smiling back. "I'm not going to stop coming!"

There was something in the way the lad spoke, or the look in his eye, or maybe even both, that caught Alex's attention. He checked himself. It was far too early to be thinking like that. He'd have to give it a few weeks to see how things developed.

With the boys heading into the showers, he strolled through to the drying area. The sight of more than twenty naked boys parading before him was simply glorious. He couldn't imagine anything better. Paradoxically, having a smaller number of boys than the week before heightened the experience, as it allowed him to study them more fully.

Having ogled Beckett the week before, he turned his attention to Monk and Pennington. While they'd looked gorgeous in their football kit, naked they were simply breath-taking. Despite being fair-skinned, Monk had a beautiful summer tan, set off by the exquisite white stripe around his midriff. His boy-parts were still quite small, his uncut penis no more than an inch and a half long and very slim. For him, puberty was clearly some way off. Alex was entranced. To seduce a prepubescent, as Gordon and Martin often did, was the ultimate.

By contrast, Pennington, who was also uncut, was showing definite signs of development, his cock longer and noticeably thicker, his balls quite well-formed, though still held tight in their sac. He appeared somewhat further into puberty than Bradshaw, though not as well developed as Beckett.

As Monk and Pennington moved away, Alex surveyed the other lads, finding delightful sights wherever he looked. And though it was far too early to say who it would be, he was sure that within a couple of months, one of these boys would be his. For it to be one of the golden trio would be the icing on the cake.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Leaving Noel in the bathroom, Alex quickly got dressed before returning to the lounge. Martin was sitting in the armchair.

"Another good time, I hope," the young choirmaster said, smiling.

"Oh, wonderful," Alex confirmed, taking his usual place on the sofa. "I had him on his tummy, gave him really good seeing-to. He couldn't get enough of it."

"So is he having a bath?"

"Yes. How's our friend Arrowsmith?"

"Much better than I expected. Last night, he came to my sleeping-in room after lights-out. I thought he might be too sore for me to fuck him, but once I'd got him warmed up, he knelt astride my chest quite happily. I played with his cock while we were doing it. I was just about to fill his boy-hole when he came all over me."

"Excellent! So it's all set fair for Saturday then?"

"Yes, I don't see why not. What are you planning?"

"Whitney will have him like I just had Noel. As soon as Whitney pulls out, I'll replace him. That should get the job done."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Martin asked. "I've some bad memories of being on the receiving end of that sort of treatment."

"It'll be fine," Alex assured him. "Actually, it'll make it easier. He won't have time to tighten up again after Whitney's finished with him. Don't worry, I've done it a number of times."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

During his schooldays, Alex had participated in a number of such encounters. The first time had been towards the end of his final year at prep school. While at the school's summer camp, he'd invited the youngest member of Mr Smith's stable, a very cute eleven-year old, to come to the tent he was sharing with two of his friends from the school rugby team. Having undressed their young guest, the three older boys had turned the lad onto his front, a pile of clothes under his hips, before taking turns to fuck his beautiful little bottom. Proceeding in ascending order of size, as both tradition and common sense demanded, Alex had gone last.

Four years later, it had been a similar story. Once again, Alex was sharing a tent with two of his contemporaries. He'd soon noticed that one of the youngest boys was on his own, the lad's `older friend' having been unable to attend as a result of severe hay-fever. It was simply too good an opportunity to miss. On that occasion, he had gone second. The following year, it had been even easier. He'd simply summoned his younger friend Colbourne to come to his tent, where he and the same two friends reprised what they'd done the year before.

He hadn't even given it much thought. These things went on. People knew they went on, but nobody said anything. It simply wasn't talked about. And they hadn't deflowered any innocents. All the boys he'd invited were used to being fucked, though not necessarily by three older boys in succession.

He'd also been on the other side of the equation. In this third year at prep school, when he was eleven and the youngest of Mr Smith's crop of boys, he'd been lured to just such a gathering, to be dismissed twenty minutes later with three loads of teen spunk in his bottom.

It had happened again when he was in his first year at public school. He'd been summoned to the tent occupied by his older friend, the school hockey captain, and his roommate, eighteen-year olds to whom he'd been providing sexual favours for several months. On his arrival, he'd discovered that they'd invited two of their friends to join them. So not only did he have four cocks to take, these boys could sustain their efforts for far longer than the over-eager thirteen-year olds had. He was serially fucked for almost an hour.

When finally sent on his way, he'd gone into the adjoining woods to dispose of the evidence, first by ejecting the copious amounts of semen that had been pumped into his rectum, and subsequently by hiding his badly soiled underpants where they would not be found.

Later, his mother had asked him why he'd arrived home with fewer pairs of underpants than he'd had at the start of term. He'd replied that he wasn't aware that he had, and that they must have got lost in the school laundry. It was never mentioned again.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"So what's this kid Southcott like?" Arrowsmith asked, looking pointedly at Whitney.

"Oh, he's incredible!" Michael answered, "such fun to be with. We always have a super time when we go there. And he loves being fucked. The harder the better, that's what he says. That's right, isn't it sir?"

"Very much so," Alex confirmed. "He likes people being rough with him. He enjoys hard physical contact. He often plays rugby against boys much bigger than he is. He doesn't care. He tackles them. They tackle him. He's not in the slightest bit worried about getting hurt. He loves it. He also enjoys being spanked or caned. It turns him on."

"You mean he gets a hard-on?" Arrowsmith questioned. "That's weird!"

"I understand that on one occasion it actually went further than him just getting a hard-on," Alex said. "He was being caned just in his underpants, which is what they do there. On the fifth stroke of six, he had a dry cum. If that had been me doing the caning, I'd have pulled his pants down and fucked him on the spot. As it was, their deputy head just told him to get dressed and threw him out."

"He likes to take on dares," Michael added. "He does things the other boys wouldn't even try."

"Like what?" Arrowsmith demanded.

"His best one was stealing a pair of the school captain's underpants. Then he climbed up onto the school roof and hung them from the flagpole."

"He's mad!" Arrowsmith declared.

"Yes, but not as mad as you might think," Alex said quietly. "I asked him about that one. He said that before he took it on, he worked out exactly how he'd do it. So he's about as mad as people who climb Everest. And that's the thing. He got caned because he took a considerable risk with his own safety and the school needed to deter other boys from trying things like that. But he's never hurt anyone else, or risked another boy's safety. He'll do for me."

"So you reckon he's worth letting Mr Smith stuff his big cock up my arse?" Arrowsmith suggested, looking Whitney right in the eye.

"Oh definitely!" Michael told him. "And don't worry about Mr Smith. He's pretty big, but he's very gentle."

They moved into the bedroom.

"You know what's going to happen?" Alex asked quietly.

Arrowsmith nodded. He wasn't at all keen on the idea, but he'd go along with it. If Southcott was as good as he'd been told, it'd be worth it. And later in the year, there'd be other, younger boys for him to fuck. Mr Brown had already told him that when the kid was ready, he'd be the one to take ten-year old Long's cherry. He could hardly wait for that.

After the usual preliminaries, they were all set. As instructed, Michael placed the pillow in the middle of the bed, spreading an old towel on top of it.

"Lie down on your front," he instructed.

"Last week, when I wanted to fuck that other kid like that," Arrowsmith argued, "I was told you wouldn't be able to see enough."

"Right now, that is not really the priority," Martin (aka Mr Brown) said, looking exasperated. "Just do as you're asked for once."

With an air of resignation, Arrowsmith shrugged and got into position. Within seconds, the teenager was inside him, fucking him relentlessly. It was okay. At a little over five inches, Whitney's cock was quite long for a lad who'd only just turned thirteen, but it wasn't very thick. The young rebel even began to find the experience quite enjoyable, his own fuck-stick beginning to tingle.

Michael pounded the curly-haired lad as hard as he knew how. Mr White had told him that he'd probably only have one chance, so he was determined to make the most of it. Inevitably, he didn't last long. After barely a minute, he pumped his teen spunk into Arrowsmith's bum.

Alex quickly coated his penis with K-Y. As Whitney withdrew, he moved in to replace him. Making sure that the twelve-year old's underpants were within easy reach, he lowered himself into position. With one well-practised thrust, he forced his hard cock into the lad's anus.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Arrowsmith protested, the pain searing through him.

Alex picked up the boy's underpants.

"These will keep you quiet," he whispered, stuffing them into Arrowsmith's mouth. "Now I'm going to give you a proper fucking!"

He set energetically to his task. With the argumentative twelve-year old lying submissively beneath him, the lad's bum seemed even tighter than it had been six-days earlier. Alex fucked him with almost animal ferocity, his penis thrusting repeatedly over the youngster's prostate.

Arrowsmith lay as still as he could, hoping desperately that Mr White would be as quick as Whitney had been. But despite the intense pain, every time the man's dick touched that sensitive spot deep inside him, his penis twitched against the towel-covered pillow. Desperate not to cum, he tried to relieve some of the pressure by pushing himself up on his forearms. Mr White was too heavy. He couldn't move. Within seconds, the cause was lost.

"Oh! Ohh! Ohhh! Nnnggggg!" he groaned, his boy-juice squirting liberally onto the towel.

"Oh yes!" Alex crowed. "I think you're enjoying this more than you'd care to admit!"

No sooner had he said it than the whole room seemed to shake, a crazy kaleidoscope of colour exploding before his eyes. Prodigious amounts of semen flooded into the youngster's rectum. Alex was triumphant. With Arrowsmith being far from compliant, fucking the lad had been a challenge. He'd met it head on and won.

After enjoying himself with Whitney, Mr Brown allowed the boys time to clean up and dress. He then took Arrowsmith back to school. The following weekend, the two of them would visit Mr Smith's establishment. After pounding eleven-year old Southcott's delightful little bottom, Arrowsmith would sit obediently on Mr Smith cock, while he, Mr Brown, would get to enjoy the prize he'd been seeking.

"You're looking pleased with yourself, sir," Michael said.

"Yes," Alex responded. "And why not?"

"Arrowsmith's not very nice, is he sir?"

"The lad is insouciant, a fully paid-up member of the awkward squad. I hope Mr Brown knows what he's doing."

"Sir," Michael said, changing the subject. "Taylor's moving next Friday."

"Will you be seeing him between now and then?"

"Yes sir, he's coming round on Monday after school."

"Give him all the best from me, would you?"

"Yes sir. On Wednesday, he went to see his new school. He says it's much better than the place where he is now."

"Excellent," Alex said thoughtfully. "I have to say that his parents seem to be doing this for the right reasons. If that's where the opportunities are, they need to take them, and make a better life for themselves and the boys."

Had time permitted, Alex might have tried to organise a little going-away party, but it didn't. It probably wouldn't have been a good idea anyway.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

October 1960

A further week had passed. While nothing of real note had happened, things had moved on as they always do. The under-12 football team had played two matches, winning the first one at home by three goals to two. The following week, they'd played an away match that had resulted in a two-all draw.

It was a promising start. There was clearly plenty of potential there if he could get them to play as a team, as he had with the previous year's under-15s. As to which of the boys he would attempt to seduce, he'd had to rule out both Beckett and Monk. Beckett's father had attended both matches. Alex had noticed immediately that father and son were very close. That was infertile and potentially dangerous territory. He'd leave well alone.

At their home match, Monk had been supported by both his parents and his younger brother, while the boy's mother – a small, enthusiastic woman who seemed to laugh a great deal – had come to the away match as well. Given that background, Alex could see little future in pursuing the lad.

A more promising candidate was Pennington, who had attended the home match as a supporter and had spent most of the game fussing round him. The boy clearly wanted attention. And though there was nothing he could put his finger on, Alex was sure that the lad was interested. He possibly had some prior experience, Alex surmised, maybe no more than some preteen fumbling, but even that would be more than most of the other boys.

At this point, however, Alex realised that his thinking had been muddled. Although coaching the football team had provided him with the opportunity to identify a suitable candidate, what it didn't do was to give him the means to target a lad he didn't teach without making it all too obvious what he was doing.

Had Pennington been in the team, it might have been different, but the lad wasn't even one of those who would be called upon in the event that one of the regular players succumbed to sickness or injury. Unless Pennington approached him in some way, trying to seduce him would be too much of a risk.

That left Bradshaw. Alex's one-to-one classes with the young maths prodigy were going splendidly. With his enthusiasm and natural aptitude, the boy was an absolute joy to work with. Not only was he making outstanding progress, after just a few weeks, the lad was pretty well eating out of his hand.

Whether the boy was seducible was a different question. There'd been no indication that he had the slightest interest in sex. Alex knew that he'd have to tread very warily, making sure to cross each boundary in turn before moving onto the next one. And he'd have to be ready to pull back the moment the lad gave him an adverse reaction. It was less than he'd hoped for, but it seemed to be the only viable choice.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At half past two on Sunday afternoon, Alex picked up Stainham from outside the Kings Head. He could tell straight away that something wasn't right. But driving along in the car was not the place to pursue it. He'd wait until they got back to the flat.

Ten minutes later, he shepherded the boy inside. As usual they made their way into the lounge, flopping down side-by-side on the sofa.

"Right, young man," Alex said firmly. "You've been like a cat on hot bricks ever since you got into the car. So tell me what the problem is."

Stainham blushed bright red.

"I don't really know how to say this, sir," he said nervously, "but I've met someone."

"Let me clarify this," Alex replied gently. "What I think you're telling me is that you've met a boy that you like rather a lot. Am I correct?"

"Yes sir."

"At school or elsewhere?"

"At school sir."

"I see. So who's the lucky young man?"

"I'd rather not say sir. I promised I wouldn't."

"Oh, come on!" Alex said disarmingly. "I can understand you not telling anyone else, but I'm not going to say anything, am I? My lips are sealed."

"His name's Sharp, sir. He's in Fifth Year."

"Let me be clear," Alex said, anxious to make sure he'd heard correctly. "This is Duncan Sharp we're talking about."

"Yes sir."

"Good god! I hope none of his footballing friends finds out. You'll need to be very careful."

"You know him then, sir?"

"Oh yes! Last year, he was in the under-15 football team that I had the pleasure of coaching. He was our leading goalscorer. I have to say I do find it a bit odd that someone who claims to hate football falls for a lad who by next season will by playing for the school first eleven."

"Oh, I hate having to play football, sir. I don't mind him playing."

"You've done well. Sharp's a nice lad and very good looking. He's bright too. He's already done O-level maths. He got a grade one."

"He never told me about that, sir."

"He wouldn't. He's not the sort to boast about his achievements. Now I'm guessing what you're also telling me that you want to commit to this relationship and don't really want to come here anymore."

"Yes sir," Stainham said, looking awkward again. "Do you mind sir? If it's going to cause a problem . . ."

"It's not a problem at all," Alex interrupted. "You were always going to move on at some point. It was just a question of when. You go with my blessing. I'm delighted for you."

"Thanks sir!" Stainham said, beaming. "You'll still help me with my maths when I need it, won't you?"

"Of course! You finding that special someone changes nothing as far as your maths is concerned. Just be careful and look after each other, okay?"

"Yes sir! We will, I promise."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After dropping Stainham back at the Kings Head, Alex drove back to the flat. Despite having missed out on his expected sex-session, he was very happy. Having fucked eleven-year old Jessop just the previous afternoon, being required to wait for a few days hardly seemed to matter.

Stainham's timing could hardly have been better. The teenager's decision would leave him free after school on Tuesdays. In a couple of weeks, he'd change Bradshaw's Tuesday tutorial from lunchtime to after school. And that would be where he'd make his first move.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday morning. Alex was teaching 2-Green. Having set them an exercise to do, he began going around the room, marking what they'd done. When he came to Newton, he had to turn back a page to get to the start of the exercise. He found a piece of paper with writing on it inserted between the pages. He read it, blinked and read it a second time just to make sure. It said, "Would you like to see me after school?"

Alex could hardly believe it. After their encounter the previous term, he hadn't expected an approach like this. And the gods were smiling on him, he noted. Had this happened just a week earlier, he'd have had to say no. As it was, after school he had nothing else to do. He placed a large tick on the piece of paper, marked the boy's work and moved on.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex sat in his classroom and waited. It was all very odd, he considered. Newton was not the type to play practical jokes, and so he felt certain that the lad would show up. But it was most unexpected. Following their meeting a few months earlier, Newton had continued to attend Maths Club. For his part, Alex hadn't touched the boy again, but in all other respects he'd carried on exactly as before.

And he'd been rewarded. The fiercely intelligent Newton was rapidly becoming one of the stars. Just a few weeks into term, he and Grainger were leaving the other boys behind, including the plodding, self-obsessed Carver.

Five minutes passed. Suddenly a smiling Newton breezed into the room. Putting his bag on the floor, the lad sat down next to him.

"So what can I do for you?" Alex asked. "Need some help with something we're doing in Maths Club?"

"Not exactly, sir," Newton replied, smirking.

"I thought not," Alex said, gently placing his hand on the boy's thigh. "But I am surprised. Last term you made it very clear that you didn't want this. So why the change of mind?"

"Well, sir, things have altered quite a bit since then."

"Ah, like meeting other boys, you mean."

"Yes sir, especially Jez . . . , you know, Taylor. He's really nice."

"Yes, I understand the two of you became quite close. Whitney seemed quite put out about it."

"He was sir, but it's okay now."

"Don't you usually go to Whitney's house on a Tuesday?"

"Yes sir, but he's had to go to the dentist. He only told me this morning."

"And I guess you're missing Taylor."

"Yes sir, especially on Saturday when he used to come over to mine. But they've done the right thing. When I saw him the week before he was really excited about starting at his new school."

Alex smiled, impressed by the boy's generosity of spirit.

"Okay," he said. "Taylor's moved away, Whitney's at the dentist and you have an itch that you'd like me to scratch. Am I right?"

"Yes sir, something like that."

"That's still a big step. What you've said doesn't fully explain it."

"Well sir, I worked out months ago that you liked me. I thought that was the reason you were always so nice to me. Last term, when you asked me to come to see you, it felt like I was being pushed into it, so I said no. Afterwards, I thought you'd lose interest, but you didn't. You carried on helping me just like you had before. And you're still the best teacher I've ever had. That's what all the boys say, well, apart from Carver, but he's a prick."

"You're quite right," Alex said, smiling. "I do like you, so I asked you to come and see me, possibly not one of my better decisions. You duly came along, and I put my hand on your leg just as I'm doing now. You asked me to stop. I had to respect that."

"You really like boys, don't you, sir?" Chris suggested.

"Of course I do. I'd be in the wrong job if I didn't. And it's not just about sex. I enjoy working with you, channelling your energy and enthusiasm."

"You'd like my brother. He's full of energy. And he's not shy at all. Mum's always telling him off for running round the house with nothing on."

"Sounds delightful! How old is he?"

"Ten; he'll be coming here next September if he passes the exam."

"I'll look forward to meeting him. But let's get back to today. You've changed your mind?"

"Yes sir. Having been with Taylor's helped. He told me you're not that much bigger than he is."

"Fair enough. So you're ready for the step up?"

"Yes sir, I think so."

"And there'll be no regrets afterwards?"

"No sir. I want to be here."

"And is this likely to become a regular occurrence?"

"I don't know sir. Probably not."

"And why would that be?"

"Sir, have you ever been to the top of the Eiffel Tower?"

"No, why?"

"I have sir. It was fantastic. I really enjoyed it, but I'm not that bothered about doing it again."

"So after we've finished, you'll cross it off the list of things you want to do."

"Maybe sir. I won't know till afterwards, will I? But doing it . . . you know regularly, would seem sort of unbalanced. Well, to me it would. I mean, you're an adult and I'm not. And I wouldn't want to come to those parties you seem to like."

"I'm glad Whitney doesn't think like that."

"But I'm not Whitney, am I sir?"

"No, you're not," Alex agreed, smiling. "And I like you exactly the way you are. So are you ready?"

"Yes sir."

Alex ran his hand up over the front of Newton's shorts. The boy's penis was as hard as stone.

"Oh, you're definitely ready," he said quietly. "Okay, wait here a moment."

He went to the classroom door and looked up and down the corridor. Seeing nobody around, he returned to his desk.

"Okay," he said. "Bring your bag."

As Newton stood up, he opened the storeroom door and turned on the light. Ushering the boy inside, he picked up the spare chair and followed him in, locking the door behind them. Finally, he sat down. This was the moment he'd been waiting for.

"Come here," he said, indicating for the lad to stand in front of him.

As Newton moved into position, he reached up, releasing the clip at the top of the boy's shorts and undoing the fly buttons. As they were such a snug fit, they stayed in place. Alex gently eased them off the lad's slender hips. They fell to the floor.

"Pull your shirt up," he instructed.

Newton did as he was asked, exposing his midriff. Licking his lips, Alex ran his hand up the lad's slim thigh, delighting in its silky smoothness. His hand continued to slide upwards. When it was inside the leg of Newton's underpants, Alex wrapped his fingers around the boy's steel-hard cock. Chris was almost overwhelmed. Mr Faulkner's touch was perfect, firm but gentle. He was getting hornier by the second.

Allowing his hand to slide back out, Alex carefully skinned Newton's underpants right down the youngster's long, coltish legs. He breathed in sharply. Newton was boy perfection, even more beautiful than he'd imagined. Like Monk, he sported a summer tan, but his was much deeper, the contrasting stripe around his middle not so pale.

The tip of the twelve-year old's slim, four inch penis was just visible, poking out of his foreskin. Leaning forwards, Alex flicked his tongue over it. It felt wonderful. Holding Newton's boy-dick around the base, he took it into his mouth, sucking it hungrily, his head twisting this way and that. Chris was in ecstasy. He'd loved having his cock sucked from the first day that Whitney had done it, and this was as good as any he'd experienced.

After a couple of minutes, Alex let him go. He stood up.

"Time to find out what I've got for you," he said, placing the lad's hand on his rampant pole.

Chris quickly undid his teacher's flies. Reaching in through the man's underwear, he took out his cock. He studied it for a moment, estimating it to be around half an inch longer than Jez Taylor's, and noticeably thicker. The extra length didn't matter. It was the girth that would make the difference, stretching his anal ring further than any he'd taken before.

Without waiting to be asked, he knelt down, his lips closing over the large bulbous head and pushing halfway down the shaft. He began to suck. Alex stroked the boy's silky dark hair, revelling in the exquisite sensations. It was clear that Whitney had trained the lad perfectly. He began to get close.

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

Having allowed Mr Faulkner's penis to slide out of his mouth, Chris got to his feet.

"Right, bend over the chair," Alex said.

Chris got into the position that both Whitney and Stainham had frequently occupied. He knew what was about to happen. Moments later, the man's tongue was lapping at his anus.

"Ohhh, sir!" he groaned. "Ohhh!"

"Hmmm!" Alex purred, easing himself away. "Whitney told me you like having your bottom licked."

That was true enough, Chris thought, but what his form master was doing far outstripped anything his classmate could manage. Almost before he knew it, the tongue returned, more insistently this time. It pushed inside, the sensations so intense Chris hardly knew where he was.

Almost seamlessly, the tongue was replaced by a well-lubed finger. After several seconds, a second one joined it, the two digits pushing in and out, twisting around, getting him ready. And very soon he'd be ready: to take his teacher's cock.

Very slowly, the fingers made their way out. This was it. Within a few seconds, the head of the man's penis was pressed against his anal ring. There was a sudden, hard thrust.

"Ohhh!"Chris gasped, the sharp stab of pain having taken his breath away.

"Relax!" Alex cooed. "This is what you came for. There's no turning back now."

Alex held his position for almost thirty seconds. Then, gripping the lad around his thighs, he began to push in deeper. It was everything he'd hoped it would be. Though not a virgin, Newton was wonderfully tight, as such slim boys invariably are.

Within half a minute, the twelve-year old was fully impaled. Alex took a deep breath and set to work, making a conscious effort to hold himself back. Not having cum for three days, he was primed and ready to unload. Too much enthusiasm, and it'd be over almost before it had really started.

Gradually, the pace increased. Alex was exultant. Newton was the most marvellous fuck. But more than that, having lusted after the lad for more than a year, today, his patience had finally been rewarded.

Chris was on a totally different planet. Though still in some pain, for reasons he couldn't begin to explain, the discomfort in his over-stretched anal ring seemed to enhance the whole wonderful experience. Much as he'd enjoyed being fucked by all four boys that he'd been with, none of them had made him feel like this, the intensity at a completely different level.

Fingers ran lengthways down his throbbing shaft. They began to bring his orgasm ever closer. It was a technique Michael (Whitney) often used, and this, Chris realised, was where he'd learned it. After only a few seconds, he began to shudder, his muscles gripped by involuntary spasms. In the next instant, his penis swelled and jerked, little jets of boy-cum squirting powerfully into his form master's palm.

"Oh yes!" Alex crowed. "Now get ready for what you came here for!"

A few more thrusts and he was there. With his cock buried as deep as it would go, Alex deposited three days' worth of creamy spunk into the twelve-year old's bottom. Slowly and carefully, he withdrew.

"So how was it?" he asked.

"Wonderful, thank you sir."

"Yes, it was wonderful for me too. Are you still saying it won't by a regular thing?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I'll need to think about it."

Almost immediately, Chris began to leak. Against the lad's deeply tanned skin, the trail of spunk running down his legs looking even whiter than it did on other boys. As always, Alex gently massaged it into the youngster's thighs and buttocks until the flow stopped.

"Okay," he said quietly. "You can get dressed now."

A few minutes later, Chris was on his way, heading somewhat awkwardly for the nearest toilets. Alex sat on his chair, replaying the events of the past forty minutes. The day had been one of the best of his life. He'd been very fortunate. Over the previous year he'd fucked no less than ten different boys, and none had been better than this most recent one. Even if the lad never came back, the experience would live forever in the memory.

Would Newton come back? It seemed unlikely that the lad would become a frequent visitor. But just occasionally, Alex surmised, he'd have that itch that had brought him there today. And when that happened, he'd come along to have it scratched again.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Sitting on the toilet, Chris too was pondering what had just happened. It hadn't been done on the spur of the moment; he'd been thinking about having sex with Mr Faulkner for at least three months. Today he'd finally done it.

It had come as quite a shock. He'd known his form master would fuck him, but he hadn't realised how intense the experience would be. Being fucked by one of the other boys simply didn't compare. But he sensed danger too. Maybe, if he became one of Mr Faulkner's regular visitors, he'd become accustomed to it, as Michael Whitney so obviously had. And like eating too much rich food, it wouldn't be good for him. In any case, it wasn't what he wanted.

He and Michael had so much in common, they should have been a team, an unbreakable partnership. But Michael's obsession with sex had precluded it. Michael wanted sex with younger boys, older boys, adult men; he couldn't get enough of it. For him, relationships were almost entirely about sex.

He, Chris, wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship that was about sharing triumphs and trials, joys and sorrows, and a great deal more besides. Sex, though important, would only be a part.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"Yesterday, while you were at the dentist," Chris said quietly, taking Michael to one side. "I went to see Mr Faulkner."

"Why?" Michael asked, looking horrified.

"Oh, I've been thinking about it for a while," Chris said nonchalantly. "Yesterday seemed like the perfect opportunity. So I put a note inside my exercise book, asking if he'd like to see me after school. When he came round, marking our work, he put a big tick on it."

"What happened?"

"You should know. You've been there often enough."

"So he fucked you?"

"Yeah."

"What was it like?"

"Rather like Christmas pudding," Chris said cryptically.

"What?" Michael demanded, looking at him as though he'd gone mad.

"Rather like Christmas pudding," Chris repeated. "Absolutely wonderful, but you wouldn't want it every day."

"I'll tell him you said that!" Michael quipped, giving his friend a mischievous grin.