THE HUNTING SEASON
By Pink Panther
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On Tuesday afternoon, Michael met Russell by the café at the bus station. The journey back to Michael's house proved difficult for both of them. Michael was fearful that he would have as little in common with Russell as he had with Tom Pennington, while Russell, having already made one faux pas, was equally reticent.
Reaching the fairly prosperous neighbourhood where Michael lived, Russell retreated even further into his shell. Maybe coming here had been a mistake, he mused. They reached the house, a large, well-proportioned, semi-detached property.
"This is nice," Russell said nervously. "What does your dad do?"
"He works for the council," Michael said. "He's deputy town clerk."
Russell was not sure what that meant, except that Michael's family were clearly much better off than his. After they'd each downed a cold drink, they made their way upstairs to Michael's bedroom. Russell felt even more out of place. The room was big and well-furnished, with a desk where Michael could do his homework and a large, well-stocked bookcase standing against one wall. Michael sat down on the side of the bed, motioning for Russell to sit next to him.
"So what d'you like doing, apart from maths and football?" he asked tentatively.
"Well, I love reading," Russell told him.
"Really?" Michael queried, his eyes widening.
"Yeah, my mum's a librarian. When I was little, she used to share a bedtime story with me every day. When I was about three, I began following them, so I could read before I started school. Mum's always encouraged me, of course. I guess you must like it too, judging by all the books you've got."
"Yeah, I love it. It's what I do to relax."
It broke the ice. They enthusiastically compared notes. Although they'd enjoyed many of the same books, there were differences. While Russell's list included some of the easier Dickens' novels, Michael's contained some Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, with each of them recommending their favourites to the other.
"Hey, we're not going to spend all afternoon talking about books, are we?" Russell, asked finally, giving Michael a seductive smile.
"Of course not," Michael answered, putting his hand on the front of the younger boy's shorts. "Christ! You're hard already!"
With shoes and socks quickly discarded, the boys began to undress each other. In almost no time, they were down to their underpants.
"Let's do them together," Michael suggested, reaching across to hold the waistband of Russell's briefs. "I'll do yours; you do mine."
Russell reached across too, mirroring what the teenager was doing.
"Okay," Michael instructed. "On a count of three: one, two, three!"
Each of them quickly lowered the other's underpants, their hard penises springing free.
"You've got a real beauty," Russell said admiringly. "I hope mine gets as big as that."
"Oh, I'm sure it will," Michael responded.
"Am I going to get it up my bum again?"
"Yeah, if that's what you want."
"Well, what I really want is to be able to cum properly. Mr Faulkner says that as soon as I can, he'll sort out a younger kid for me to fuck. But when I'm with you, having your telegraph pole up my arse suits me fine."
"Suits me too, but I don't want to do it straightaway. Let's mess about for a bit like we did on Sunday."
They snuggled up on the bed. Within seconds, they were kissing passionately, their cocks grinding together.
"These younger kids," Russell queried, breaking the kiss. "Have you met them?"
"Yeah. Mr Brown's got a boy called Long, and Mr Smith's got one called Van Kerkstraat. They both love taking it up the bum."
"So how old are they?"
"They're a year below you. Van Kerkstraat was eleven a few weeks ago; Long will be eleven next month, I think."
"So what are they like?"
"Long's nearly as tall as you, but really skinny. Nice looking though; nice cock too, about three inches. And his bum's really tight. You wouldn't think he'd be able to take Mr Faulkner's but he does. Van Kerkstraat's gorgeous. He's got blond hair like yours, but his has a sort of wave to it. He'd be about the same size as you, but his dick's tiny. It gets very hard though. And his bum's really soft and squidgy. He's an amazing fuck when you get the chance."
"Wow! I hope it won't be too long. Meanwhile, what I need is some of this."
Placing his head on Michael's stomach, Russell held the teenager's penis around the base, guiding it into his mouth. He began to suck. Steadily working his way down, he used his fingers to stimulate the older lad's perineum. Michael was ecstatic. Russell Bradshaw was giving him a wonderful blow-job. The sensations were quite exquisite. The fact that the twelve-year old was a star footballer no longer seemed to matter.
"Oh, take it easy!" he cautioned. "I don't want to cum yet."
Russell pulled away, licking his lips and grinning.
"Okay, I'm going to do you now," Michael said.
As Russell rolled onto his back, his prick was engulfed by the teenager's mouth. As the older boy settled to his task, Russell could hardly believe the sensations coursing through his body. Prior to meeting Michael, he'd had sex with three men and four boys. Every one of them had sucked his cock and he'd always enjoyed it, but none of them had done it as well as this. When it came to giving blow-jobs, Michael Whitney was in a class of his own. A hand slipped between Russell's legs, a finger expertly stimulating his boy-hole.
"You'd better stop," he warned. "I'm nearly cumming."
Michael quickly let him go.
"Are you going to fuck me now?" Russell asked.
"Not yet, I want to lick you out first."
"Come on then!" Russell said cockily, getting onto all fours.
Moments later, the older boy's tongue was lapping at this anal ring. It pushed inside.
"Oh, yeah!" Russell gasped, enthralled by the wonderful sensations the teenager was giving him.
After a couple of minutes, the tongue slid out replaced immediately by a well-lubed finger. A second one soon joined it. As they pumped in and out, the two digits twisted around, systematically opening him up. He was becoming hornier by the second, eager for what was to follow.
"Are you ready?" Michael asked, allowing his fingers to slide out.
"Yeah! Do it!"
Although Bradshaw lacked Southcott's wild, mischievous streak, he was just as tough and every bit as fearless. More than that, he was uncompromising. It was clear that he never did anything by halves. Michael found it intoxicating. If that's the way the lad wanted it, he was up for the challenge. Taking his pillow, he placed it under the twelve-year old's stomach, covering it with the old towel he'd left on the side.
"Lie down," he instructed.
Bradshaw lay face-down, the pillow beneath his hips, his legs spread apart. Michael sat on his haunches, coating his penis with K-Y. He licked his lips, wondering if the youngster had been fucked in this position before. He must have been, he reasoned. Mr Faulkner was bound to done it. Mr Brown probably had too. Now it was his turn, and he was going to make the most of it. He lowered himself onto the lad, guiding his penis onto the twelve-year old's rosebud. With one hard thrust, he was in.
Russell experienced a sharp stab of pain as the teenager penetrated him, the older boy's cock advancing deep into his boy-tunnel. It drove over his prostate, causing his prick to twitch of its own accord. Within a few moments, he was being remorselessly fucked. He'd been right two days earlier, he concluded. Michael Whitney was the only one who'd come close to pounding his boy-hole the way that Mr Faulkner did.
Russell panted noisily, willing the lad on. There was a special intensity about being fucked like this, he decided; the pain of entry, the older boy's heart thumping against his spine, the thirteen-year old's musky breath flooding his nostrils while his own throbbing spike rubbed against the pillow.
Suddenly, his breathing became harsh and ragged, all his muscles going into spasm. His feet flailed uncontrollably, his sphincter clamping tight around the teenager's thrusting cock. A moment later his penis jerked into life, little drops of boy-juice coating his tummy before soaking into the towel.
Michael hardly knew where he was. Without warning, the room seemed to explode around him, a kaleidoscope of colour flashing in front of his eyes. Burying his cock as deep as he could, his balls churned into action, three volleys of teen spunk spurting powerfully into the twelve-year old's rectum. For several seconds, he lay where he was, completely drained. It was hard to explain. Bradshaw was neither as beautiful as Van Kerkstraat nor as tight as Long. But he was an unbelievable fuck.
Within a few minutes, they were back to being ordinary boys, pulling on their clothes while chatting happily about the books they planned to read. Having arranged for Russell to meet him at the station two days later, Michael showed the lad out.
He didn't know what to think. In many ways he liked Russell a great deal, not least because he was incredibly sexy. But Michael was wary of him, daunted by the intensity with which the lad seemed to do everything. While Tom Pennington was gentle and easy-going, Russell Bradshaw was the exact opposite. That was scary.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following day, having completed their maths lesson, Bradshaw was lying naked on his mentor's bed, the man's index finger expertly probing his highly receptive boy-hole.
"Did you go to Whitney's yesterday?" Alex enquired.
"Yes sir. He had me like you do sometimes, lying on my tummy with a pillow under my boy-bits. He fucked me really hard."
"And did you enjoy that?"
"Yes sir. It was super. I spunked while he was up me. Are you going to do me like that sir?"
"Not today. I think it's time we conducted a little experiment."
"What experiment, sir?"
"You'll see. Come with me."
Picking up the tube of K-Y, Alex led the way to the bathroom.
"Okay," he instructed, lifting the hinged toilet-lid so that it rested against the cistern. "Bend over the toilet. Rest your hands on the seat."
With the lad in position, Alex moved right in, holding his slicked-up cock against the youngster's rosebud. He thrust it in, steadily pushing in deeper until the boy was fully impaled. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around the twelve-year old's throbbing prick and began to fuck.
Right from the start, Bradshaw was panting and whimpering, finding the sensations quite overwhelming. With his prostate being stimulated by his teacher's cock and his penis fondled by the man's expert fingers, he was never going to last long. After less than a minute, he shuddered from head to toe, his boy-cock coming to life in Mr Faulkner's hand.
Alex wondered whether the boy's watery cum would simply dribble down over his index finger, but it didn't. His fingers remained completely dry. Eager to finish things, he fucked even harder. Another few thrusts and he was there, depositing three days' worth of spunk in the twelve-year old's bottom. After an appropriate pause, he carefully withdrew.
"Right!" he said brightly. "Let's see what we've got."
Gently moving the youngster to one side, he looked for the evidence. There it was; the bottom of the toilet-lid and the back of the seat were splattered with little drops of boy-cum.
"Yes!" he said triumphantly. "Southcott was right. You can squirt properly now!"
"It's not very much, is it sir?" Bradshaw queried.
"Oh, it's more than enough," Alex reassured him. "And look how far it's gone. That's a good eighteen inches, which is most impressive. Now I'll do what I promised and arrange for you to meet a boy who'll want you to fuck him."
"When will that be, sir?"
"The Sunday after we go back to school. There's a boy at Mr Brown's school who'll be ideal. I'll be seeing Mr Brown in the next few days. I'll arrange it with him."
"Yes sir. Whitney told me about him. He said there's one at Mr Smith's school too, a kid with a funny name. Whitney said he was even better!"
"Van Kerkstraat; he's beautiful, and very sexy. You'll meet him too, probably a week or two later. But Mr Smith's away at the moment. I won't be able to get hold of him until a day or two before we go back to school."
"That's okay sir. I can wait!"
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Martin and Noel arrived at Alex's flat just after eight o'clock. Although he'd turned fifteen a few weeks earlier, the lad looked at least a year younger. But he was old enough to leave school, and that was what he'd done. The following day he'd be moving to London to work for Mr Robinson, Martin's music publisher friend. He'd be living with Mr Robinson too, providing the man with sexual favours in return for board and lodgings.
It had been several months since Alex had availed himself of Noel's services. During term time, with so many other boys to satisfy, he'd found it too much. But on this occasion, that would not be a problem. He'd just endured three days' abstinence while staying at his parents' house, and although he'd deposited a prodigious load into Bradshaw's bottom just a few hours earlier, he was more than ready to repeat the exercise.
"Okay, I'll leave you to it," Alex said, retiring to the lounge. "I'll see you a bit later."
It was quarter to nine when Martin reappeared, looking very pleased with life.
"I take it you enjoyed that," Alex said, grinning.
"Oh, definitely," Martin said. "I've not had anything since I fucked Pennington on Saturday. I really needed it."
"So I assume he's in the bathroom, getting rid of the evidence?"
"Yes. I completely filled his boy-hole. My spunk was leaking out of him."
"Well I plan to do the same. I hope he'll be ready for it."
"Oh, I'm sure he will. He's been really looking forward to it."
"Talking about looking forward to things, Bradshaw can cum properly now, so he's looking forward to his first fuck. I was thinking that the first Sunday after we return to school, you could bring Long over here."
"I'll be delighted to," Martin assured him. "After the way you've helped me out over the past few months, it's the least I can do."
"You're going to miss Noel, aren't you?"
"Yes, but these things have to come to an end. You know that. And Marcus Robinson will give him the opportunity to make something of himself. For a boy like Noel, that's quite something. And believe me, Marcus wouldn't give him the chance if he didn't think he could make the grade."
"Yes, thanks to you, of course."
At that moment, the lounge door opened and Noel sauntered in. He was as naked as the day he was born. With his slim, four-inch cock leading the way, he strolled across to Alex. Apart from a little crop of golden pubes, his porcelain-white skin was still as smooth as silk.
"Come on, daddy," he said, extending a hand to help the man out of his armchair. "I want you to make me your boy again."
Getting to his feet, Alex allowed the lad to lead him towards the bedroom.
"I'll see you shortly," he said, turning back to Martin.
As soon as they were safely ensconced, Noel began to undress him. Within a minute, Alex was naked too.
"Oh daddy!" the boy gushed. "You've got such a beautiful cock!"
"And you want to suck it, don't you?" Alex responded.
"Yes please, daddy!"
"Go on then," Alex invited, lying back on the bed. "Show me what a naughty little boy you are!"
Lying down next to his host, Noel rested his head on Alex's tummy. Opening his mouth wide, his lips closed over the large, bulbous head of the man's penis. Steadily, he sucked his way down until he was taking the swollen object right into his throat.
"Mmmm!" Alex purred. "Even naughtier than I expected!"
"I've been practising," Noel said, grinning as he released Alex's cock.
"Practising?" Alex asked with mock disapproval. "You couldn't have practised doing that on Mr Brown. He's not big enough."
"No daddy. I've got another friend who likes me to do that for him."
"Another friend?" Alex demanded. "So you've been really naughty again, haven't you?"
"Yes daddy, sorry daddy. But it feels so nice when I suck him."
"Oh, does it indeed! Well, you're a naughty boy, and what happens to naughty boys?"
"They get their bottoms spanked."
"Yes they do! Now get on all-fours!"
Noel obediently got into position, his bum pushed well back, his head and shoulders down on the mattress.
"You're a very naughty boy!" Alex rasped, delivering two powerful smacks to the lad's buttocks.
"Oh yes daddy" Noel whimpered. "I'm sorry!"
"No good being sorry," Alex went on, administering two more blows. "You've still got Mr Brown's spunk inside you! And that's even naughtier, isn't it?"
"So what's going to happen now?"
"You're going to put your big cock into my boy-cunt and fuck all your daddy-spunk into me."
"Yes, you sexy little slut!" Alex growled. "That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, daddy!"
Alex dragged a pillow into the middle of the bed, throwing his underpants on top.
"Lie down!" he ordered.
As Noel flopped down onto the pillow, Alex smeared K-Y over his cock. The lad had only just been fucked so there was no need for further preparation. He lowered himself onto the boy, guiding his penis onto the youngster's starfish. He drove it right in, fully impaling the lad with a single thrust. There was no holding back, Alex pounding into the helpless boy with all the force he could muster.
"This is what you want, isn't it?"
"Oh yes, daddy! Please daddy! Fuck me hard! Fill my boy-pussy!"
Alex redoubled his efforts, fucking the boy ferociously. A couple of minutes passed.
"Oh daddy!" Noel gasped, his orgasm upon him. "Oh, you've made me cum!"
"Oh, you dirty little slut!" Alex responded. "You can't get enough of it, can you? Now take my spunk! Take it all!"
He thrust in one final time, rope after rope of his creamy semen spurting into the fifteen-year old's rectum. With that, it was over. They lay as they were for almost half a minute. Noel was the only boy he'd met who enjoyed that sort of dirty, almost humiliating talk, Alex mused while allowing his breathing to recover. He found it strange, talking to boys in that way, but with Noel, it definitely seemed to work. Finally, he pulled out.
"Wow!" he panted. "That was incredible! And tomorrow you'll be off to stay with your new daddy."
"Well, sort of," Noel confirmed. "Mr Robinson won't be my daddy. He doesn't like talking dirty to me the way you do. It's okay though. I still love having sex with him. And I have to stop being a slut. I'm going to be his boy. That's it."
"Fair enough," Alex said gently. "It sounds like an excellent opportunity, so make the most of it."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following afternoon, Alex picked up Whitney and Holdsworth from outside the Kings Head.
"Good to see you," he said warmly as they piled into the car. "So what have you been up to this morning?"
"We had a foursome with Bradshaw and Pennington," Holdsworth told him.
"Really?" Alex queried, his penis beginning to harden. "I take it you organised that," he added glancing across at Whitney.
"Yes sir," Michael admitted. "I saw Bradshaw on Tuesday afternoon and Pennington yesterday morning."
"You're getting on okay with Bradshaw then?"
"Yes sir. It turns out he's as keen on reading as I am, so we'll have plenty to talk about."
"And what about this morning?"
"The thing is, sir, when I invited them, I didn't say it was going to be a foursome, so they did get quite a surprise. But they were fine with it."
"You could say that," Holdsworth agreed, grinning mischievously.
"So what did you do exactly?" Alex enquired.
"Well sir," Holdsworth explained. "Whitney's only got a single bed, so we stayed down in the lounge. Once we were naked, we put the two younger ones together. After a bit they got into a sixty-nine, you know, lying on their sides, which is what we hoped they'd do. So while they were doing it, we got behind them. I fucked Bradshaw and Whitney fucked Pennington."
"Now that is quite extreme," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. "Even by my standards. How did they react?"
"Oh, they loved it, especially Bradshaw," Holdsworth assured him. "Didn't they, Mike?"
"Definitely!" Michael confirmed.
"The only problem was that it didn't last very long," Holdsworth continued. "After about a minute, we'd all cum."
"And the two younger ones had been spit-roasted," Alex noted. "Pennington's experienced that before, but Bradshaw hasn't. But as long as they both enjoyed it, there's no harm done. So neither of you boys has been fucked today?"
"No sir," they chorused.
"Well, there's only one way of dealing with that!" Alex said, grinning.
"A chain-fuck!" Holdsworth declared enthusiastically.
"Yes," Alex agreed. "And as I don't see you very often, you'll be in the middle."
Once again, he looked across at Whitney, who was looking distinctly put out.
"Don't worry, Mike," Holdsworth said, smiling reassuringly. "I'll be coming over again next week. Then it'll be your turn to be in the middle."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Saturday afternoon. As arranged, Michael went to his form master's flat where he met up with Tom Pennington and Mr Brown. They reprised the routine they'd gone through the last time the four of them had been together. After being undressed by Mr Brown, Michael had had sex with Pennington, which had ended with him fucking the kid senseless. After that, he'd been spit-roasted, with Pennington's cock in his mouth and Mr Brown's up his bum. He'd enjoyed every second of it.
As soon as he'd cleaned up, he headed back to the bedroom, leaving Pennington in the bath. On his way, he was intercepted by Mr Brown.
"Come into the lounge for a moment," Martin whispered. "I want to ask you something."
They sat down on the sofa.
"One day next week, would you like to come over to my place?" Martin asked quietly.
"So will it be just be you and me?" Michael queried.
"Yes. I wondered if Wednesday afternoon would be okay. I could pick you up outside the Kings Head."
Michael was intrigued, sensing that there was more to this than he was being told. But he liked Mr Brown and knew that nothing bad would happen.
"Okay, what time?"
"Two o'clock okay?"
"Yes, I'll need to be home for five."
"That's fine. And please don't mention it to anyone else, will you?"
"No sir, I won't way a word," Michael assured him, his earlier suspicions having been confirmed.
"Right! You'd better go and get dressed. I'll see you on Wednesday."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
For Michael, the next few days followed a familiar pattern. On the Sunday afternoon he paid his customary visit to his Uncle Jack. The following morning, Tom Pennington came to his house where they had sex. On the Tuesday, it was Russell Bradshaw's turn to visit him. The net result was that over three days, he'd bottomed for his uncle, and been the top with the two twelve-year olds. Things could hardly have been better.
Finally, it was Wednesday afternoon. After eating lunch, Michael headed into town. He felt nervous. He was sure that Mr Brown hadn't invited him just to have sex like they usually did. If that was all he wanted, why did they have to keep it a secret from Mr White? It didn't make sense. So there had to be something else, but he had no idea what it could be.
At five to two, he strolled along to the Kings Head and waited. A few minutes later, he saw Mr Brown's car approaching. As it pulled up next to him, he opened the door and got in. Driving back to the choirmaster's flat, they chatted about this and that. There was no hint of anything out of the ordinary.
Forty minutes later they were safely closeted in the man's bedroom. As they began to undress each other, Michael got the first sign of something unusual. Mr Brown's legs and body were completely smooth. He never had much body hair anyway, Michael noted, but at this point he had absolutely none. Somewhat apprehensively, he pulled down the choirmaster's underpants.
"Sir!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "You've shaved off your pubes!"
"Yes," Martin said, smiling. "I do that sometimes. D'you like it?"
"Yes sir," Michael answered. "It suits you."
Actually, Michael found it turning him on. Mr Brown always looked much younger than he was. Without a trace of hair on his body, he looked even younger. They snuggled up on the bed. Michael knew the choirmaster didn't kiss, so he didn't even try it. After fondling each other all over, they took turns to suck each other before snuggling up again.
"Right," Martin said quietly, looking right into the teenager's eyes. "I'm going to ask you something, but before I do, I want you to promise that you won't tell anyone. You won't even mention that I asked you. This has to stay between you and me."
"Of course," Michael assured him. "I won't breathe a word to anyone, I promise."
"Will you fuck me?"
Michael was stunned. In his experience, stretching back nearly three years, when a man had sex with a boy, it was always the man who did the fucking, the same convention extending to older boys having sex with younger ones.
"But sir, I thought you always liked to fuck the boys you go with," he said, unable to think of anything better.
"Oh, I do, with the younger ones," Martin explained, "but when I meet a handsome young man like you, I find myself looking for something different. I want you to remind me what it feels like to be thirteen again. But it's important that no-one finds out. It wouldn't do for other people to know that I still like taking it."
"Wow, sir! I never expected that! But I'll do it, if that's what you want."
"Thanks! D'you remember your friend Taylor? I had designs on him at one point, but he moved away before I had the chance to do anything about it. As it happens, it's worked out for the best. Now that you've grown up a bit, you suit me far better than he would have done."
"Would you like to kiss me?" Martin asked. "You can if you want."
"I thought you didn't like kissing. You told me you had bad memories from when you first went to public school."
"Yes, that's right, but it's only part of the story. When I started at my senior school, lots of the older boys wanted to have sex with me. I didn't like most of them. I wouldn't have gone with them if I'd had the choice. But there was one older boy I liked a great deal. He was slim and good looking, very much like you, actually. And he did it right. He took his time and made sure I enjoyed it. The problem was he was only in fifth year, so he couldn't stop the sixth-formers getting to me. Well, a few of the older boys began arguing over who was going to have me. Things were getting out of hand, so the school captain stepped in and said I was going to be his boy. It was okay, he looked after me pretty well and made sure I wasn't treated like the school slut, but he wasn't the one I really wanted."
"So what happened when the boy you really liked was in upper sixth?"
"He didn't want me by then. He picked one of the new boys."
"I'm sorry," Michael said. "That must have been horrible."
"To be honest, I wasn't too disappointed. It was how things worked. And I had important exams coming up; I couldn't afford to dwell on it. So I drew a line under it and moved on. But sometimes, even now, I like to fantasise about how things might have been."
"I understand, sir."
"There is one other thing. When we're doing this, and only when we're doing this, I don't want you to call me `sir'. I'd like you to call me `Ford'. Just that, `Ford'. Is that okay?"
Michael wondered if `Ford' was Mr Brown's real surname. He suspected it probably was, but he wasn't going to ask. He moved his mouth towards that of the young music master. Although rather passive, Ford submitted readily to being kissed. Michael found the experience highly erotic.
Without him having to give the matter any real thought, the idea that he was with Mr Brown simply disappeared. Instead, it was Ford, a very good-looking, horny thirteen-year old, and his objective, as always, was to fuck the lad. He didn't need to think much about that either. He'd build up to it just as he would with any other boy.
He leaned across. Resting his head on Ford's stomach, he held the base of the lad's penis between thumb and forefinger and took it into his mouth. He sucked it steadily, right down to the root. Slipping his hand between the boy's legs, Michael stroked his perineum. Slowly pushing his hand further down, his fingers alighted on the lad's bum-hole.
"Oh, Whitney!" Ford whimpered. "Oh, that feels super!"
A few seconds later, Michael pulled away. "Would you like to do me now?" he asked.
Ford didn't hesitate, quickly taking hold of Whitney's prick. "You've got a beautiful cock," he said, running his tongue over the modest-sized head.
"And you know where I want to put it, don't you?" Michael asked. "Will that be okay?"
"You will be gentle, won't you? I mean, I want you to do it, but I've not taken it since before the summer holidays."
"I'll be as gentle as I can, I promise," Michael reassured him. "It will hurt a bit when it first goes in, but once you get used to it being there, it'll be the best feeling you've ever had."
Ford steadily pushed down on Whitney's penis until his nose was buried in the teenager's little crop of pubic hair. He sucked expertly, moving his lips up and down, his tongue running all over the lad's rampant prong. Michael ran his fingers through his new friend's unruly blond curls, basking in the wonderful sensations. After a couple of minutes, Ford let him go.
"Okay, time to get you ready," Michael announced. "Get on all fours for me."
Ford complied, but he was too upright.
"Push your bum further back," Michael instructed.
Once again, Ford did as he was asked.
"Okay," Michael said. "Now put your head right down on the bed."
With the lad in position, Michael knelt down behind. A little unsure about the next part, he carefully examined Ford's anus. There wasn't a trace of hair to be seen. Leaning forwards, he took a sniff. The only scent was of freshly-washed boy. Taking a deep breath, Michael went right to it, his tongue lapping at his friend's starfish.
"Oh Whitney!" Ford gasped. "That feels so good!"
Encouraged, Michael continued his ministrations, pushing his tongue a little way inside. Ford was simply too tight for him to get any further. With his tongue beginning to ache, he pulled away. Taking the tube of K-Y from the bedside table, he coated his fingers.
Inserting his first digit, he pushed it slowly but insistently into the lad's anus until he could go no further. Pulling back slightly, he began a gentle finger-fuck. Encouraged by Ford's moans of pleasure, he pulled his digit back until only the top joint was left inside before pushing his middle one in behind it.
"Oh, Whitney!" Ford groaned. "Ooooh!"
Michael went back to finger-fucking, twisting his digits around as his pushed them in and out. After a couple of minutes, he allowed his fingers to slide out. Ford was still pretty tight, Michael noted, but he was as ready as he was going to be.
"Okay," he said, standing up. "Move back until your feet are right by the bottom of the bed."
As Ford shuffled backwards, Michael stood at the foot of the bed, slightly adjusting the lad's position to get his anus to exactly the right height. He moved in close, guiding his cock onto Ford's rosebud.
"Right," he instructed. "Now push out like you're having a crap."
As Ford did as requested, Michael pressed forwards. Suddenly, his friend's sphincter muscle gave way and the head of his cock disappeared into the lad's bottom.
"Owwww!" Ford protested.
"Just relax," Michael said soothingly. "You can do it. Very soon, this is going to feel really good."
Over the next few minutes, he slowly inched his way inwards. He grazed the lad's prostate.
"Ohhh!" Ford squealed, his penis twitching excitedly.
Soon afterwards, Michael's penis was completely enveloped, his firm, flat stomach pressed tight against his friend's buttocks.
"That's it," he whispered. "You've taken the whole thing. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"Are you ready then?"
"Yes, do it. Fill my boy-hole!"
Holding Ford around the hips, Michael set to work. At first he moved quite slowly, gently rocking backwards and forwards.
"Oh yes! Now do it harder!" Ford urged.
While keeping the rate much the same, Michael increased the stroke-length, pulling well back before thrusting right in again.
"You like this, don't you?" he demanded.
"Oh yes! It's super!"
"D'you want it even harder?"
"Yes! Hard as you can!"
Very gradually, Michael ratcheted up the pace until he was fucking the lad into near-oblivion. Suddenly he began to gasp for air, his muscles gripped by uncontrollable spasms.
"Oh!" he growled. "I'm going to cum!"
He thrust in one final time. With his cock swelling and jerking, three ropes of creamy teen-spunk spurted into Ford's rectum. After a few seconds, he carefully withdrew.
"Get up on your knees and turn round," he ordered, kneeling down at the foot of the bed.
Ford turned to face him.
"Now fuck my mouth," Michael ordered.
Thrusting his throbbing prick between Whitney's lips, Ford eagerly set about his task. Within half a minute, his penis jerked into action, his spunk squirting onto the teenager's palate. Michael slurped and swallowed, not missing a single drop. Finally, he pulled away.
"Wow!" he enthused, grinning and licking his lips. "You make beautiful spunk! So how was it?"
"Incredible!" Ford told him, his eyes sparkling. "The best feeling ever, just like you said."
"Yeah, it was pretty incredible for me too!"
"Well, you can do it any time you want!"
"I'll take you up on that," Michael told him.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Fifteen minutes later, they were ready to leave. With Martin having reverted to his Mr Brown persona, they headed out to the car.
"I'm hoping we'll be able to do that every week," he said as they began their journey. "During term time, I'm off on Wednesday afternoons and Wednesday evenings. Would it be possible for me to bring you over here then? I'll have to smuggle you in, but it won't be a problem."
"I don't think so, sir," Michael said respectfully. "I don't get out of school till four o'clock. If you picked me up from the Kings Head, it would be gone half past four before we got to your place. I need to be back home by half past five at the absolute latest, so I can make sure that everything's ready for Mum to cook dinner as soon as she gets in. It wouldn't give us long enough, sir, especially as we'd be driving back in the rush hour."
"What about after dinner?"
"I'll be doing my homework. On Wednesdays we have history, chemistry and French. Even if I do some of it before dinner, I don't usually finish till eight o'clock."
For a couple of minutes, they lapsed into silence.
"If you wanted, sir, you could come to my house," Michael suggested.
"Are you sure that would be okay?" Martin asked.
"Well sir, you'd need to make yourself look really young, like you were one of my friends from school."
"That's not a problem. I'd do that anyway."
"And you'd have to park well away from the house," Michael added. "I can show you where."
"That's fair enough. We don't want the neighbours getting suspicious. So what time?"
"I'm always home by quarter past four. About twenty past would be good."
"Let's make it twenty-five past, just to be on the safe side."
"Okay, sir. That'll give us plenty of time."
"I'm very grateful to you for doing this for me. I'll make sure you don't go unrewarded. Are you aware that come September, you will no longer be welcome at Mr Smith's establishment?"
"Yes, Mr White told me that. I don't think he's going to want me any more either. He already spends far more time with Bradshaw and Pennington than he does with me."
"Well there you are. But I'll be happy to help you out. Every couple of weeks, on a Saturday afternoon, I'll pick you up and take you back to mine. I'll arrange for two of my boys to come over so the four of us can have some fun together, with you acting as one of the adults."
"Wow, sir! I'd love that!"
"It'll suit us too. It seems that Pennington's not too interested in fucking, and although I'm informed that Bradshaw is ready for his first fuck, he's not very big. If I gave Long or Jessop the choice of which of you three Woodchurch boys they'd like to be with, I know exactly who they'd pick."
"It's silly, isn't it sir? I bet Van Kerkstraat would say the same, but Mr Smith won't give him the choice."
"Precisely! But that's how it is. So are you happy with our arrangement? I wish I could take you to mine every Saturday, but I'm sure you understand that I'll still need to visit Mr Smith and Mr White. But I'll get you there as often as I can, because my boys will love seeing you."
"Oh yes, sir!" Michael said, grinning from ear to ear. "This is going to be super!"