THE HUNTING SEASON
By Pink Panther
Hi everyone! I'm back with a new chapter in which Lorenzo bares his soul and Michael gets serious. I hope you like it! As this chapter is rather different from most of the others, feedback will be especially welcome. Please send your comments to firstname.lastname@example.org and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
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One week on from the twelve-year old's previous visit, Michael waited anxiously for Tom Pennington to arrive. He was almost wishing that the boy wouldn't show up, relieving him of the unwelcome task of telling the lad that their time as sex-partners was at an end.
The doorbell rang. Rather reluctantly, Michael made his way downstairs to answer it. As expected Tom was standing there.
"Come up to my room," Michael said, ushering the younger boy inside. "Sit down," he added as soon as they were there. "There's something I need to tell you."
As Tom parked himself on the bed, Michael sat down on the chair facing him.
"I don't really know how to say this," he said nervously, "but I've met someone, someone I really like. He seems to like me too, so you and I won't be doing this anymore. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump you like this, but that's how it is."
"Oh!" Tom said, looking rather annoyed. "Does that mean you won't be having sex with Mr Faulkner either?"
"Oh, that was going to happen anyway," Michael responded. "He's not really interested in me now. He's taking you to Mr Smith's house on Saturday, isn't he? Well, that'll be it for this term. The prep schools break up next week. And Mr Faulkner definitely won't want me in September."
"So who's going to fuck the younger kids, you know, like Long?"
"Well, you could do that."
"I guess I could, but I'm not sure I want to."
"Well, that's not my problem," Michael said.
"So who's this boy you've met?" Tom demanded.
"Oh, he's two years ahead of me at school. I don't think you'd know him."
"I might," Tom countered.
"Promise not to tell anyone?"
"His name's Lorenzo Parker."
"What?" Tom expostulated, his eyebrows raised. "Are you mad? I remember him from Stonor House, that's the junior school we went to. He was always getting into trouble. And from what I've heard, he's been in a fair bit more since he's been at Woodchurch."
Michael was horrified. He couldn't imagine the rather unconfident boy that he'd met getting into trouble. It just didn't fit.
"So how d'you know about this?"
"A boy called Luke Armstrong lives across the road from me. He's in Lorenzo's form. He was at Stonor House too. At one time, Luke and Lorenzo used to go around together. Well, they don't anymore. I think Luke's parents put a stop to it. If you start going around with Lorenzo, he'll get you into trouble too."
Michael didn't know what to think. Tom clearly knew something about it. Luke Armstrong had to be the Luke that Lorenzo had mentioned, the boy he'd have liked to have sex with. Although he and Tom weren't close friends, he'd never known the younger boy to be spiteful. There had to be some truth in what he was saying.
"That's not going to happen," Michael said quietly.
"Well, it's up to you," Tom said huffily. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."
"I'm sorry, Tom, but this was never going to last. You and I just don't have enough in common. You're not stupid. You must have known."
"Well, I guess I'd better be going," Tom said, getting to his feet.
Having shown him out, Michael returned to his bedroom, his head spinning. He'd known his meeting with Tom was going to be awkward, but he hadn't expected anything like that.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following afternoon, Alex drove to Beechwood Park. As usual, Pennington was sitting on the bench by the bus stop. After he'd parked the car, they walked into the grounds.
"Will you be going to Whitney's house on Friday afternoon?" Alex asked.
"No sir. Actually, I won't. When I went there yesterday, he told me that he'd met someone he really liked and so he wouldn't be going with me anymore."
"Really? Did he say who it was?"
"Yes sir, but he made me promise not to tell anyone."
"You're not telling `anyone'," Alex countered. "You're telling me. So who was it?"
"A boy called Lorenzo Parker, sir."
"Good God! I wouldn't have expected that!"
"D'you know him then, sir?"
"Yes. I taught him last year. I found him very difficult."
"I remember him from junior school, sir. He was always getting into trouble."
"So I understand. I'll be seeing Whitney tomorrow. I'll have a word with him about it."
"But sir!" Pennington protested. "He'll know I told you."
"Don't worry," Alex said. "I'll say to him exactly what I just said to you. He'll understand. Now I've got something to tell you. On Monday, after your games class, I encountered one of your contemporaries, who seemed rather keen to make my acquaintance. I'll be seeing him again on Friday. I plan to bring him here. As you won't be going to Whitney's, I wonder if you'd like to join us?"
"Who is he, sir?"
"His name's Ingleby. He's in 1-Green."
"I don't know him, sir."
"Quite tall and very slim. Nice cock, a bit bigger than yours."
"So what would we do?"
"Well, it seems he's done just about everything else, but he's never fucked a boy and is very keen to do so. How would you feel about that?"
"That'd be okay sir, especially now Whitney doesn't want to see me anymore. But what would we do afterwards?"
"Well, that'll be up to you. What would you like us to do?"
"You said he does everything else, sir, so I think we should spit-roast him. He can suck me off while you fuck him."
"That sounds an excellent idea! I'll have to ask him, of course, but I don't imagine he'll object. So what would you like me to do for you today?"
"You know, sir, what you always do. I didn't see Whitney last Friday. He made an excuse about having to go to the dentist. And we never did anything yesterday, so I haven't taken it since we were here last week."
"Oh dear!" Alex cooed. "We'll have to put that right, won't we?"
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Up in his bedroom, Michael was facing another difficult decision. Mr Brown, or Ford as he was required to call him in these occasions, was due to arrive at any moment. Before his meeting with Tom Pennington the day before, he'd decided to tell the man that this would be their last time together.
Was that a good idea, he wondered? If things went badly between him and Lorenzo, he'd be left with no sex-partners at all, apart from his Uncle Jack. That would be a bitter pill to swallow. On the other hand, he was bored with the role-play that he was required to engage in, and he didn't want to keep it going just so that he could have sex with the younger boys from Mr Brown's school. That just seemed wrong.
He remembered something that his uncle had told him: trust your instincts. His instinct had told him that Lorenzo was the boy he was meant to be with. Whatever the lad had or hadn't done; together they'd work it out. He knew he was taking a risk, but it was one he felt he had to take.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was nearly five o'clock. With their role-play at an end, Michael took a deep breath.
"Sir," he said. "I'm calling you sir because we're back to normal now. I'm afraid that this is the last time I'll be able to see you like this."
"So you're not available next Wednesday?" Martin queried. "What about during the holidays? I'll be around most of the time."
"No sir," Michael said evenly. "I didn't mean the last time this term. I meant the last time ever. The thing is, I've met someone I really like. He seems to really like me too, so that's who I'm going to be with."
"Oh!" Martin responded, sounding more than a little put-out. "So do I take it that next term you won't be taking up my offer?"
"That's correct, sir."
"Well, I have to say that's most disappointing. Isn't this all rather sudden? Are you sure you're not making a mistake?"
"Yes, it is rather sudden, sir. That's just the way it happened. Of course, I can't be sure that I'm not making a mistake, but I don't think I am. My uncle's told me several times that I should trust my instincts. Well, my instincts tell me that this boy is the one I'm meant to be with, so that's what I'm going to do."
"Your uncle; this is the one who took your cherry?"
"Do I take it that you won't be going with him either?"
"That's right, sir. I'm going to tell him when I see him on Sunday."
"Well," Martin sighed. "I'm very disappointed to lose you. I thought we made a rather good team. But it's your choice."
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir."
Just as he'd done with Tom Pennington, Michael showed his guest out, giving himself a mental pat on the back for the way he'd dealt with the situation. But he'd burned his boats, he realised. There could be no turning back. The following day, he'd have the same conversation with Mr Faulkner. He wondered how that would go.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
On Thursday afternoon, with classes finished for the day, Alex sat in his classroom, waiting for Whitney to arrive. He was not looking forward to it. He would have to tell the lad that he knew of his budding relationship with Lorenzo Parker and advise him to curtail it immediately. From what Pennington had told him, it seemed that Whitney was rather taken with the older boy, so his task was not going to be easy. A couple of minutes later, Whitney strode into the room. Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he needed to do.
"Good afternoon, sir," Michael said, sounding very business-like. "There's something I need to tell you."
"Yes?" Alex prompted.
"Well, sir, I've met someone I really like, and he seems to really like me too. So I won't be bothering you anymore, sir."
"I'm not sure that you've been bothering me up to now," Alex temporised. "Could you tell me who it is?"
"Do I have to, sir?"
"Oh, come on, Whitney! You know me well enough to know that I won't tell anyone else. You've confided in me before and I've never told a soul, so what's the problem?"
Michael was caught and he knew it. After his conversation with Pennington, he'd hoped he'd be able to get away without revealing his new partner's name, but it was not to be.
"His name's Parker, sir. He's in Fourth Year."
"Have you any idea what you're taking on?" Alex queried.
"What d'you mean, sir?"
"Well, during my first year here, I taught that young man, or at least I tried to. I found him extremely difficult. The form he was in had been badly let down the previous year. When I got them, they were a rabble, and way behind where they should have been. I'd been given the task of knocking them into shape. That was going to require a great deal of work, on my part and theirs. I'm not sure that any of the boys liked the idea much, but Parker and two of his associates decided that they were not going to cooperate. Of course, I stuck to my guns. I had no other choice. If they didn't do the work, I put them in detention. That just made Parker worse. On one occasion, not only did he not finish the homework I'd given them, he never even started it. I put him in Saturday morning detention so that he could do it there. He failed to turn up, and as he had no valid excuse, the Headmaster caned him. Is this really the sort of boy you want to spend your time with?"
"No sir, but he's not been at all like that with me."
"Let me go on," Alex persisted. "Things came to a head after Christmas, when the reports went out. A couple of weeks later, we had the Third-Year parents' evening. The parents of Parker's two associates came to see me to apologise for the sons' behaviour and lack of effort. They assured me that they'd told their boys in no uncertain terms that they were to do what I told them to the letter, and that in addition, they were no longer to associate with Lorenzo Parker. And they'd backed that up by withdrawing their lads' privileges. Mrs Parker also came to see me. She accused me of picking on the boy. Fortunately, Mr Fleming was on hand to deal with her, or goodness knows where things might have ended up."
Michael was stunned into silence. It seemed that things were even worse than Tom Pennington had made them out to be. But it still didn't fit. The Lorenzo he'd met just wasn't like that. On the other hand, Mr Faulkner obviously wasn't making it up. Much as he liked Lorenzo, might he have bitten off more than he could chew?
"Well," Alex continued. "The other two lads settled down to work and were no further problem. In the summer exam, they both performed well, very well in one case. Parker, however, continued his defiance, but with nobody to back him up, he was never going to get very far. We reached an uneasy stand-off. He went through the motions of doing the work and didn't try to disrupt anyone else. That was the best I could manage. Needless to say, his performance in the summer exam was way below what it should have been. Now you have done very well since you've been at Woodchurch, mainly because you've worked very hard. Are you really going to risk throwing that away?"
"No sir, I'm not," Michael replied firmly. "Whether I'm with Lorenzo or not, I'm going to keep working just as hard as I always have."
"There is one other thing," Alex said, playing his final card. "Do you remember last summer when Stainham told us about a boy in his form calling him names and threatening to punch him in the face?"
"Yes sir," Michael conceded, all too aware of what was coming next. "Stainham kicked him in the balls."
"Precisely, and the boy in question was Lorenzo Parker. What can you possibly have in common with a lad who behaves like that?"
"I don't know sir. I'll have to ask him about it."
"I'm not sure what good that's going to do," Alex snapped. "I mean, what possible excuse can there be? If you take my advice, you'll steer well clear."
"I'm not saying there's an excuse, sir," Michael responded quietly. "If it happened like Stainham said, and it probably did, there's no excuse at all. But I still need to hear what Lorenzo has to say about it."
"I think you're making a big mistake," Alex insisted. "But at the end of the day, it's your choice."
"Has Parker asked you how you started having sex with other boys?"
"And what did you tell him?"
"Sir, did you hear about the Boys' Brigade troop that got disbanded about a year ago?"
"Yes, I heard there were rumours that `things had been going on'."
"Yes sir. Well, they used to meet at the church hall about ten minutes' walk from us. Some of the boys that I knew at Junior School were members. I told Lorenzo that I was too. I never mentioned you, sir, or Uncle Jack."
"Well, at least you've done that part right," Alex conceded. "Would I be right in thinking that you don't want to go into the storeroom this afternoon?"
"I'd rather we didn't, sir."
"Good, because right now I don't feel like it either."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
At ten to seven, Alex was back in school, preparing for the Second-Year parents' evening. He was relaxed and confident. As almost every boy in 2-Green had done better than they had the year before, he had good reason to be. He'd be renewing some acquaintances that he'd made the previous year and possibly making a few new ones. There was nothing he needed to worry about.
After Mr Cope had addressed them in the assembly hall, at around twenty past seven, parents began to drift through. Among the first to arrive at Alex's desk were Stuart Barnes' parents, who expressed their satisfaction at how much more seriously their lad was taking his school work.
"He's as keen on football as he ever was," Mr Barnes said. "But now he knows he can't neglect his studies."
"I'm very pleased too," Alex responded. "Getting the balance right isn't easy. But Stuart's become a real asset to the form."
A few minutes later, Alex saw Keith Newton striding towards him, dressed rather less formally than he'd been the previous year. The man had no need to pull rank on games master Richard Needham this time around, Alex concluded.
"Christopher's done exceptionally well," Alex enthused. "He's always been one of the better ones, but this term he's been quite outstanding."
"Yes, it's strange how that started," Mr Newton reflected. "Last term, he was persuaded to run a race for the cross-country team. I thought it would be just a one-off thing, but when he got back he was full of it, saying that he'd like to join them properly. I have to say I was most surprised as he'd never shown the slightest interest, but if that was what he wanted to do, it was fine with me. It turned out that he'd met a Third-Year boy, Mark Ferris. Not only do they run together, they study together too.
Prior to that, Christopher's best friend had been another boy in your form, Michael Whitney, as I'm sure you knew. Michael's a nice lad, but intellectually it was a one-way street. But since Chris started working with Mark, he's come on by leaps and bounds. They seem to spur each other on."
"Yes," Alex agreed. "As it happens, I teach Ferris. He's also done very well."
"Some people might not approve of their relationship," Mr Newton said quietly, leaning over the desk. "They'd say it was too close. As far as I'm concerned, that's nonsense. Over the past three months Chris has been the happiest he's ever been, and I've watched him blossom into the type of young man that I'd always hoped he'd be. That's what matters."
"I quite agree," Alex said, smiling, though rather shocked by what he'd just heard. Mr Newton, it seemed, knew that Ferris and his son were more than just friends, and was not at all concerned about it.
"I fought for six years so that people would have the right to be themselves," Mr Newton went on. "That applies to Chris as much as anyone else. You were at Cambridge, weren't you? You must have heard of Alan Turing?"
"Of course," Alex acknowledged.
"No single individual made a greater contribution to the Allied war effort than he did," Mr Newton said firmly. "The way he was treated afterwards was a disgrace! And for what?"
Alex nodded his understanding. He'd been aware for some time that the Newton parents were pretty radical when it came to matters of personal freedom. It was only now that he understood just how far that extended.
Some twenty minutes later, a well-dressed man sat down at Alex's desk.
"Norman Carver," he said in a quiet, business-like voice. "Brian's father."
"Pleased to meet you," Alex responded.
"And I'm especially pleased to meet you," Mr Carver went on. "I want to thank you for intervening in the way you did. Though Woodchurch is an excellent school, I'm not sure many form masters would have taken the trouble to do that."
"Well, I wasn't going to stand by and watch him go downhill," Alex said. "And I'm sure that's what would have happened."
"Absolutely," Mr Carver agreed. "I was appalled when I found out how he'd been behaving. Being the senior partner in a busy law firm, I'd left Brian's upbringing very much in his mother's hands. That was a serious mistake. I've now become much more involved, and I have to say that I'm delighted with the new friends he's made, Tom Grainger especially."
"One of the nicest lads you could ever meet," Alex agreed. "A real achiever too."
"Yes. I've actually had contact with the boy's father. Excellent chap, runs his own precision engineering business. I dealt with a legal problem for him that his previous solicitor couldn't sort out. He said that he hadn't approached us before because he didn't think he'd be able to afford our fees. I assured him that it wouldn't be an issue. Actually, it wasn't that difficult for someone who knows his way around the system. At the end of the day, getting Brian back on track was worth far more than the money I knocked off the bill."
"Well, Brian's done better than I expected." Alex opined. "In addition to Grainger, he's now got a good group of friends that he goes around with, all level-headed, hard-working boys. He's stopped all the showing off and seems much happier as a result."
A few moments later, Alex wished the man a good evening. He liked Mr Carver, who'd shown himself to be every bit as down to earth as the Headmaster had told him.
Towards the end of the evening, Alex recognised Whitney's mother heading towards him.
"Good evening, Mr Faulkner," she said, sitting down. "Good to see you again."
"Good to see you, too," Alex responded.
"I can hardly believe how well Michael's done," she said. "When he got his first report, I was pleased that he'd made the top half of the form, but he's improved every time since."
"That's hard work and a great deal of determination," Alex offered.
"I know he benefited a lot from being friends with Chris Newton," she went on, "but he doesn't see that much of Chris these days."
"Oh, Newton's got involved in running. He's actually very talented, so he's made new friends among the boys that he trains with. But he and Michael are still friends at school."
"Well, that's good to know. Michael's always been very sensible. That's the reason I was able to go back to work. If he has friends over during the holidays, I can never tell. If they do make a mess, he always cleans up afterwards."
Alex smiled and nodded. In much the same way as he had done, Whitney had established a reputation for being reliable and trustworthy. As a result, his mother had returned to full-time employment. The resulting lack of supervision had given the lad opportunities that he had not been slow to exploit.
"I just hope he can keep working as well as he has up to now," she added.
"Yes, so do I," Alex said thoughtfully. "I'll let you know if things start to slip at all."
At nine o'clock, the evening drew to a close. As Alex, along with Neil and a few colleagues, made their way to the Kings Head for a well-earned drink, he reflected on how smoothly the evening had gone. Although there had been no problems that he'd needed to address, it had been a worthwhile exercise in cementing relations with the parents of the boys in his form, and that would do him no harm at all.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Friday afternoon. Ten minutes after the bell to signal the end of school, Alex got into his car for the short drive to the Kings Head. He was hoping that Ingleby would be there. He realised he hadn't briefed the lad as thoroughly as he should have. Would he have to sense to wait?
As the pub came into view, he saw Ingleby standing on the pavement. Bringing the car to a halt, he reached across to open the front passenger door, allowing the boy to get in.
"Good to see you again," Alex said, smiling.
"Yes sir! I was starting to think you weren't coming."
"Sorry, that was my fault. I should have told you that it'd be between ten and fifteen minutes after the final bell. So are you still keen on the idea of fucking another boy?"
"Oh, yes sir!"
"That's good, because we're going to meet one."
"Really? Who is he, sir?"
"His name's Pennington. He's in 1-Red."
"I've heard the name, sir. Isn't he very good at cricket?"
"Yes, he is."
"So how did you meet him, sir?"
"He was in the under-12 football squad. He never played for the team, but he kept coming to training. He made it pretty obvious that he was interested."
"So you picked him up the same way you picked me up."
"Not exactly. The problem was that there were always other boys around, which made it very difficult. Anyway, to cut a long story short, he managed to engineer a situation where we were alone in the changing rooms. And I think it would be more accurate to say that he picked me up, rather than the other way round."
"Sounds terrific, sir! So does he like taking it up the bum?"
"Oh yes. I'd say he likes it as much as you do."
"And what's he like sir? Is he nice-looking?"
"Oh definitely! I don't think you'll have any reservations on that score. He's not as tall as you, but he probably weighs a bit more."
"That's not a surprise, sir. Nobody's as light as I am. What's his cock like?"
"Nice, a bit smaller than yours. He can cum though."
"Wow! And he'll let me fuck him?"
"Yes, after you've played around for a bit. He's suggested that after you've finished, you can suck him off while I fuck you."
"That's called spit-roasting, isn't it, sir?"
"It is indeed! Do I take it you've done it before?"
"Oh yes, sir. I've done it several times. It's really exciting!"
"Excellent. Now we're not in a rush. We need to give Pennington time to get home and change out of his school uniform."
"So where are we meeting him, sir?"
"Outside Beechwood Park. He lives just around the corner."
"Afterwards, sir, will you take me back?"
"Oh, I'll do better than that. I'll drop you off close to where you live. It should be five o'clock or just after. Will that be okay?"
"Yes, that'll be fine, sir."
Reaching the park, Alex checked his watch. It was a little after ten past four. With a little time to kill, he swung the car around, parking it to face in the direction that Pennington would be coming from.
"As you're going to suck him off after you've cum," he instructed. "Don't touch his cock while you're fucking him."
"Okay sir, I understand."
"So have you already taken it today?"
"No sir. I did last night though."
Suddenly, Pennington appeared, striding towards them. He was dressed in white football shorts and a red tee-shirt.
"Here he is now," Alex said quietly.
"Oh, that's him!" Ingleby enthused, looking up. "I've noticed him at school but I didn't know his name. He's really cute, isn't he, sir?"
"Yes," Alex agreed. "I knew you'd like him. Okay, leave your bag and your blazer in the back of the car. You won't be needing those."
Having got out of the car, Alex made the customary introductions. Tom looked Ingleby up and down. The lad was nothing much to look at, almost skeletally thin and definitely not pretty. But despite that, he thought the boy looked very sexy.
They strolled into the park, through the gate and into the woods beyond. Moments later, Tom led them off the main path to his secret hiding place.
"Wow!" Ingleby whispered. "This place is super! I wish there was somewhere like this near where we live."
"I found it last summer," Tom explained. "I was looking for somewhere I could, . . . you know."
"Why don't you two get to know each other?" Alex suggested.
"Sir, is it okay if we take our shirts off?" Tom asked.
"I don't see why not. Keep your shorts and pants on though, just in case."
The two boys immediately set to it, with their teacher drinking in the sight. Within seconds, they were naked from the waist up. Moments later, their shorts were around their ankles. Finally, they pulled down each other's underpants.
Tom's eyes widened. Ingleby's erect, uncut penis was noticeably longer than his. It was thicker too. He reckoned it was probably the second-largest of any of the first-year boys. He'd never seen Beckett with a hard-on, but he guessed that the under-12 goalkeeper's would probably be a little larger. But he was the only one. Nobody else even came close. Even big lads like Wade and Sanderson were smaller down there than he was.
"You've got a beauty!" he breathed. "Is it okay if I suck it?"
Ingleby smiled and nodded. Taking that as a `yes', Tom got onto his knees. After moistening his lips, he took the scrawny boy's prick into his mouth. He sucked it eagerly, using his lips to push back the lad's foreskin so that he could use his tongue on the small, shiny head.
Ingleby was ecstatic, absently running his fingers through his new friend's chestnut-brown hair. Pennington seemed far keener on sucking his cock than the other boys he'd been introduced to. After a couple of minutes, Tom carefully let him go. He looked up, grinning.
"Okay," Ingleby said. "Let's swap over. I want to do you now."
The boys quickly changed places. As Ingleby set to work on Pennington's dick, he slid his hand between the lad's thighs, one digit quickly locating the smaller boy's rosebud. Alex licked his lips. There was no doubt where this was going.
"Use some of this," he instructed, applying some K-Y to Ingleby's index finger. "Right! Now push it in."
Rather timidly, the lad began to insert it in Pennington's bottom. Meeting neither protest nor resistance, he thrust it in deeper, encountering the hard, knobbly spot deep inside the lad's rectum.
"Oooh!" Tom exhaled, his penis twitching involuntarily.
Eager to move things along, Ingleby eased himself away.
"Are you ready for my cock?" he asked.
"So where exactly do we do it?"
"Just there," Tom said, indicating the low bank where he always stood.
Tom quickly shuffled into position. Ingleby knew he could have penetrated him right then, but remembering what Mr Faulkner had done, there was something else he wanted to try first. Kneeling down behind, he prised Pennington's bum-cheeks apart, his tongue lapping eagerly at the boy's starfish.
Alex was both impressed and excited. Not only was Ingleby a quick learner, he was totally uninhibited. What an asset he could prove to be! Finally, the scrawny lad got to his feet. Alex sauntered over to him, the tube of K-Y at the ready.
"Let me do that for you," he said quietly, smearing some gel over Ingleby's rock-hard prick.
As the teacher stepped away, the slim lad moved in close. Even though he hadn't fucked a boy before, he knew exactly what to do, holding the base of this penis between thumb and forefinger as he forced it in. With his prick securely inside, he held Pennington around the thighs, drawing the lad onto him, his hard prong thrusting over the boy's sex-button.
"Ohhh!" Tom gasped, a jolt of electricity shooting through him.
A moment later, he was fully impaled, his new friend's firm, flat stomach pressed tight against his bottom. Ingleby paused for a moment, savouring the velvety tightness that was gripping his cock. It was the most exciting feeling he had ever experienced. Being sucked off was wonderful, but being right inside Pennington's boy-tunnel beat it by miles. He finally understood why the other boys he'd been with were always so keen to fuck him.
"Come on!" Tom urged. "Do it! I want to feel you spunking up my bum!"
Needing no further encouragement, Ingleby set to work. Within seconds, he was fucking the lad with long, hard thrusts. No thought was necessary. Nothing could have felt better or more natural than to be pounding Pennington's arse. Alex allowed himself a smile. Though even worse at sports than Whitney, when it came to sex, Ingleby displayed the same remarkable athleticism.
"Ohhh!" he groaned. "Oh fuck! I'm going to cum!"
"Yes!" Tom responded. "Fill my boy-hole!"
Shuddering from head to toe, Ingleby tightened his grip on the shorter boy's thighs. In the next instant, his cock jerked into action, jets of boy-cum spurting hard into Pennington's bottom. He could hardly believe what he'd just done. It had been the most magical experience of his life. His elation at having realised a long-held ambition was like nothing he'd ever known. After a few seconds, he carefully pulled out. Tom turned to face him, his thighs resting against the bank.
"Okay," Alex said. "You know what happens now. Step back a bit. Then bend down and get your mouth around Pennington's cock."
As Ingleby's lips closed over the smaller boy's penis, Alex knelt down behind, working his tongue into the scrawny lad's starfish.
"Come on, sir!" Tom urged. "Stick it up his bum!"
Having got to his feet, Alex smeared K-Y over his prick. Shuffling forwards, he thrust it hard into Ingleby's anus. Holding the lad's slender thighs, he drove it right in so that his pubic hair was squished up against the youngster's small, firm buttocks.
"Okay," he said, grinning at Pennington. "Let's do it."
Immediately, Tom began to fuck the lad's mouth while Alex pounded his bottom. Ingleby was transported to another planet where normal rules don't apply. He'd been spit-roasted a number of times and had always enjoyed it, but it had never been as good as this.
As he'd been close to orgasm when they started, Tom was never going to last long. Suddenly, his balls churned into action.
"Ohhhh!" he gasped, instinctively placing his hands on Ingleby's head. "Oh, I'm going to cum!"
A moment later, little jets of boy-juice squirted onto his scrawny friend's tongue. Spurred on by what had just happened, Alex redoubled his efforts, fucking the lad ferociously. Very soon, he felt his orgasm beginning to build.
"Oh yes!" he growled. "Now I'm going to fill your cute little bottom!"
Thrusting in one last time, his cock jerked wildly, rope after rope of creamy spunk spurting into Ingleby's rectum. After a pause to recover his composure, he slowly withdrew. As the lad backed off his smaller friend's cock, semen began to escape from his rosebud and trickle down his legs.
"Pennington," Alex instructed while adjusting his clothes. "Clean him up, there's a good boy!" He turned to Ingleby. "Just bend over again," he said casually. "Pennington will lick you clean."
Alex watched intently as Pennington, like the cum-slut he so clearly was, licked the spunk from Ingleby's slender thighs, working his way upwards until he was taking it directly from the boy's starfish. It was a sight that any lover of preteen boys would have relished.
As soon as the flow stopped, the boys quickly pulled up their underpants and shorts. As they left the den, Alex allowed his two charges to go on ahead, giving them the opportunity to arrange another meeting, which he was pretty sure they would. Finally, they reached the park gate.
"Goodbye, sir," Tom said, smiling. "I'm off home now."
"Okay!" Alex responded. "Thanks for joining us."
As Pennington headed for home, Alex and Ingleby made their way to the car.
"So how was your first fuck?" Alex enquired as they settled into their seats.
"Terrific, sir! I never realised it'd be as good as that!"
"I see! So have you and Pennington arranged to meet again?"
"Yes sir," Ingleby admitted, grinning sheepishly. "I'm going to come over here tomorrow morning."
"Excellent! I was hoping you would. So you like him, then?"
"Oh, yes sir, and he seems to like me too. I loved it when he licked all the spunk off me. He's really sexy, isn't he sir?"
"He certainly is," Alex confirmed. "There's no question about it."
"So when would you like to see me again?"
"Monday after school?"
"Yes sir! Can we come here again? It's much better than doing it in the store cupboard."
"Okay, as long as the weather stays dry. But if there's been any rain, come to my classroom, okay?"
"Yes sir! I'll see you then!"
"There's something else I'd like you to do for me," Alex said quietly. "You'll be playing cricket on Monday, won't you?"
"Bring your football shorts with you. After you've had a shower, put them on instead of your underpants."
"Okay sir," Ingleby said, grinning mischievously. "If that's what you want."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Michael sat in his bedroom, waiting for Lorenzo to arrive. His heart was racing. He was going to have to ask the lad about what he'd heard. Suppose it went badly? What would he do then? Maybe he should just forget the idea, he speculated, carry on as though nothing had happened.
`No,' he told himself firmly. `I have to deal with this. There are obviously problems that I know nothing about. If we're going to be together, I need to know what they are, see if I can help.'
Just after twenty past four, the doorbell rang. He went downstairs, ushering Lorenzo inside. They headed straight up to Michael's room.
"Sit down," Michael said, indicating the bed. "We need to talk." After taking a deep breath, he continued. "On Monday," he went on, "I didn't mention that there was another boy at school that I've been seeing. I didn't say anything because he wasn't a close friend or anything. We enjoyed having sex; that's all there was to it. Anyway, he came here on Tuesday. I told him that I wouldn't be seeing him anymore because I'd met someone I really liked. He asked me who it was. At first, I wasn't going to tell him, but he got a bit snotty about it, so I did. I didn't think he'd know you, but it turns out you went to the same junior school. He told me he thought I was mad. He said that you'd been in lots of trouble at junior school, you'd been in more trouble since you'd been at Woodchurch, and that if I started going round with you, you'd get me into trouble too. I couldn't believe it. I know we've only met a few times, but I've never seen any hint of you behaving like that. I just want to know what you have to say about it."
"Well, it's true, apart from the last bit," Lorenzo admitted. "Things were pretty good until I was six or seven. Dad used to spend lots of time with me, showing me things, teaching me what was right and what was wrong. If I was naughty, he dealt with it, made sure I knew not to do it again, you know? Mum used to say he was too hard on me, but he wasn't really. He just wanted me to know what I could do and what I couldn't. But then he got sick. He's always been a heavy smoker, and his lungs started to give out. For a while, he tried to keep doing stuff with me the way he had before, but after a time, he just couldn't do it anymore."
"So how old is he?" Michael asked.
"He's sixty-two. At the end of the war, he was stationed in Italy. That's where he met Mum. She was only eighteen when they got married. A year later, I came along."
"Oh, I see."
"Dad had been married before. His first wife was killed in an air raid early in the war. They had two children who were away at boarding school when she died. They've never accepted Mum, and they won't have anything to do with me or Fran."
"My sister Francesca; she's your age."
"Well, when I was nine, we had to move house because Dad couldn't get up the stairs anymore. We live in a bungalow now. It's very nice, but it's not a patch on the old place. Anyway, without Dad to keep me on track, I began playing up at school. The teacher we had at the time wasn't much good. She couldn't teach that well and she was really snappy. I started disobeying her, answering her back, that sort of thing. The school wrote to my parents. Mum just dismissed it, said the woman was picking on me. So I carried on. The school wrote a second time. I thought `I'm really going to be in trouble this time,' but it never happened. Mum seemed to think they were making it up. Either that, or she didn't want to deal with it. I never actually worked out which.
Anyway, when I went into my last year, they wrote again and asked Mum to come into school. When she got there, they told her that unless my behaviour improved, they'd kick me out. Mum argued with them, but I knew they were serious, even if she didn't. Well, I didn't want to get chucked out. It was where all my friends were, so I had to get my head down and get on with it. Fortunately, the teacher we had for our eleven-plus year was really good, so it wasn't much of a problem.
So I passed the exam and started at Woodchurch. The first year went pretty well. I did okay in class and didn't get into any trouble. The only teachers I didn't get on with were my form teacher, Sutherland, and Needham. Sutherland's an old goat! He talks to us like we were a lesser form of life. Needham's just a bully, and I hate games. And back then, he always used to look at us when we came out of the showers. I think he does that with all the younger boys.
Anyway, when I got into second year, things started to go wrong. After the summer holiday when Sandro and I messed about, I started getting interested in the other boys. I was so confused! Then our maths teacher had a heart attack. The school got in a temporary teacher, but he was useless. He couldn't even keep order, let alone teach. We gave him the run-around. It wasn't just me; it was most of the class, but when Sutherland found out, he hauled me out and gave me a dressing-down in front of the whole form, like it was all my fault.
Well, I wasn't going to put up with that! I guess I've got a stubborn streak. So I just got worse. At the end of the year, apart from a few maths nuts, our exam results were dreadful. Anyway, we went off for the summer holiday. That was when Sandro got me to suck him off. By the time I got home, I knew for certain that I liked boys rather than girls. The problem was that there wasn't anyone I could tell.
So when we started Third Year, we got this new maths teacher, Faulkner. After a couple of lessons, he realised how poor we were. He told us that he'd talked to Mr Fleming about it, and that in order to get us up to standard, we were going to have to do extra work. Well, we'd got used to not being expected to do a great deal, so we didn't like the idea one bit. Jonathan, one of my friends from junior school, suggested to me and Luke that we shouldn't cooperate. He said Faulkner was only young and if we pushed him, he'd soon roll over.
Well, he didn't. He was as hard as nails. If we didn't do the work he set, he put us in detention. That really got my back up. I guess it was that stubborn streak again. Anyway, the next homework he gave us, I never even started it. Well, he put me in Saturday detention. I didn't go, so I got caned by Mr Cope. After that, my work went downhill in the other subjects too.
But we carried on, right up till Christmas. In January, we got our reports. Ours were terrible, of course. My mum brushed it off, just like always, but Luke and Jonathan's parents didn't. Now Jonathan's dad's scary. He's big, but he doesn't hit him or shout at him even. He sat Jonathan down and told him how disappointed he was. Then he took away all Jon's privileges. He wasn't allowed to go out. He didn't get any pocket money. If he needed to go somewhere, he had to ask. If he needed money for something, he had to ask. He was told that if he wanted things to get back to normal he had to get his head down, do as he was told and stop going around with me, because I was a troublemaker. It hadn't even been my idea! Luke's parents said much the same. Well, Luke and Jon really didn't have much choice, did they? So that was it. I lost my only real friends.
Of course, I just carried on. I know it was stupid. It was that stubborn thing again. I just wouldn't give up. By the time the summer exams came round, Faulkner had won the other boys over. To be fair, he's a really good teacher. Apart from me and a couple of idiots, they were all doing well."
"Mr Faulkner's my form master," Michael interjected. "He's the best teacher I've ever had."
"Yeah, well after we got our exam results, he told us that apart from the boys who'd be in the top set, he'd be teaching the rest of us right through to our O-level exam. It was what most of the other boys wanted, including Luke and Jon. But at the end of the class, he asked me to stay behind. I thought he was going to give me a lecture, but he didn't. He told me that at parents' evening my mum had spoken to Mr Fleming, who's head of maths, and they'd agreed that in fourth year, I'd go into his class. Mr Faulkner said he hadn't wanted to say that in front of the other boys because he didn't want to single me out. Then he told me how sorry he was that we hadn't got on better than we had, and how moving to Mr Fleming's class would be an opportunity for me to make a fresh start. He was so nice about it, I really hated myself for having behaved the way I had."
"So how have things gone since you've been in fourth year?"
"Better," Lorenzo acknowledged. "Well, a bit better anyway. Mr Fleming's been really good. He sometimes takes me on one side, asks me how things are, like he's trying to look after me. He told me he's got teenage boys of his own, so he'll say things like `I know growing up isn't easy.' I've stayed out of trouble and done what I had to do, but I've still not been working as hard as I should. I guess I've got out of the habit."
Michael took a deep breath. He'd heard everything else. Now he had to deal with the really hard part.
"I believe that when you were in Third Year," he said quietly, "there was an incident with another boy in your form."
"Oh God!" Lorenzo responded, looking totally ashamed. "That was the worst, stupidest thing I've ever done. When we got back to school, I knew I liked boys, but I didn't want any of the other lads to find out. Well, there's this kid in our form, Stainham. He's a right little fairy! He even belongs to a dance troupe, for fuck sake! I was scared stiff that the other lads might think I was like him."
"Doesn't he get bullied?" Michael queried.
"No. He's got this friend he was at junior school with, Calladine. They're both brain-boxes. They compete at pretty much everything except maths. Anyway, Calladine's big and very strong. None of the other lads would want to get into an argument with him."
"So what happened?"
"Well, one day I saw Stainham on the playground, on his own. I got this crazy idea. I was so desperate for the other lads not to think I was like him, I walked towards him and started calling him names. I even threatened to punch him in the face. I can't imagine what I was thinking. I've never hit anyone in my life. In any case, Calladine would probably have beaten me senseless if I had.
I expected Stainham to start crying or something, but he didn't. He never even flinched. What I'd forgotten was that he's superb in the gym. He can do handsprings, cartwheels, all that sort of thing. I can't; I'm useless. So I kept moving towards him, but before I was even close enough to hit him, he kicked me in the balls. So there I was, lying in agony on the playground with the other boys standing there laughing at me. I'd made a complete prick of myself. I just wanted to die. I don't mean I'd have actually done anything, but I just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up and have to deal with it all."
There was an awkward pause, neither boy knowing what to say next.
"I suppose you won't want any more to do with me now," Lorenzo suggested, looking away.
Michael held him by the shoulders, gently turning the lad to face him.
"I haven't said that, have I?" he asked softly. "You could have brushed it off, but you didn't. You could have tried making excuses, but you didn't do that either. As far as I can tell, you've been completely honest about it. That's a pretty decent start. I have to say I still find it hard to believe. You've never been anything like that when you've been with me."
"I don't have to pretend when I'm with you," Lorenzo explained, wiping away a tear. "You're the one person I've met who understands what it's like to be me. At least I thought you did."
Michael's heart almost broke. It was the saddest thing he'd ever heard. It wasn't an excuse, but Lorenzo's life had been awful. He'd gone off the rails and there'd been nobody there to put him back on. There was something else too. He wasn't just playing anymore, finding a boy he liked so that they could have sex. What he did actually mattered. After what he'd just been told, abandoning Lorenzo was out of the question.
"I do understand some of it," he said quietly. "I understand about your dad not being there when you needed him. My dad never wanted kids. Most of the time, he treats me like I don't exist. But I've been lucky. Mum's been brilliant. She made sure I knew my manners, did as I was told, worked hard at school. I had my Uncle Jack too, Mum's younger brother. He did a lot of the stuff Dad should have done but didn't, playing with me, encouraging me, teaching me stuff. He even gave me the talk on what happens to you when you start growing up. It sounds like you didn't get any of that."
"Well, Dad gave me `the talk' just before I started at Woodchurch, in between coughing his guts up. To be honest, it was really embarrassing. That was about it though."
"Well, the question is, do you want your life to carry on the way it has been?" Michael asked.
"Of course not," Lorenzo said firmly. "I've been wasting my time. I know that."
"Then we'll have to do something about it. Now I can't do it for you, but I'll give you all the help and support that I can. That's a promise. I know it won't be easy, but you can do it. Together, we're going to get through this."
"You're crazy!" Lorenzo said, grinning.
"Probably," Michael agreed. "After you came here on Monday, I just knew you were the one I was meant to be with. I haven't changed my mind. I'm not going to change my mind. I just hope you feel the same way."
Quite spontaneously, their lips met in the most sensuous kiss Michael could remember. In a way that neither of them could explain, it set the seal on their relationship. For Lorenzo, it was the day that hope for the future finally returned. For his part, Michael realised that he was facing a huge challenge, but that, he sensed, was how it was meant to be. And he was not going to fail.
Suddenly, he felt Lorenzo's fingers stroking his erect penis. Without a word being spoken, clothes were quickly discarded. They snuggled up on the bed, kissing passionately, their hands roaming everywhere. After a few minutes they moved into a sixty-nine. Slipping his hand between Lorenzo's legs, Michael stroked his friend's perineum, working his way back until his finger touched the lad's rosebud. Lorenzo's reaction was to suck him even harder.
"Oh fuck!" Michael gasped. "I'm going to cum!"
A moment later, his cock jerked wildly, three ropes of teen spunk spurting powerfully into Lorenzo's mouth. The older boy's orgasm followed almost immediately, jets of cum coating Michael's tongue. After a short pause, they disentangled themselves.
"I'd better be going," Lorenzo said, pulling on his clothes. "When can I see you again?"
"Do you live near Beechwood Park?" Michael asked.
"Not far. It takes about five minutes on my bike."
"Can you meet me outside the main gate tomorrow afternoon?"
"Sure, what time?"
"How about half past two?"
"Fine! I'll see you there!"