THE HUNTING SEASON
By Pink Panther
Hi everyone! I’m finally back with a new chapter. I’m sorry it’s taken so long, but I found getting this chapter started quite difficult, and once I’d got it going, I had to turn my attention to other commitments. If you’ve been following the story, you’ll know I’ve disclaimed on numerous occasions, so simply read on and enjoy! As always, feedback will be very welcome. Please send your comments to email@example.com and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.
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It was Wednesday afternoon. At five past four, Alex collected Pennington from outside the Kings Head. It had been raining earlier in the day, and everywhere was still damp.
“We’ll go to my place today,” he announced. “It’s too wet for us to use the woods.”
Pennington grinned and nodded.
“I understand you had an encounter with Ingleby and his dad,” Alex went on.
“Hmmm!” Pennington replied sulkily. “He definitely wasn’t supposed to tell you about that! He’s a blabbermouth! He needs to be careful!”
“I quite agree,” Alex said soothingly. “I was surprised how freely he talked about it. It really isn’t the sort of thing you should discuss with someone you don’t know very well. I did have to press him a little to get him to confirm that it was his dad who’d been fucking him, but apart from that, he was very open about it. Actually, it’s made me quite wary of him.”
“He started off telling me that the man he was with was just a friend,” Pennington explained. “Well, he’d just got his cock up my bum when Ingleby called him ‘Daddy’. That’s really weird, isn’t it, sir?”
“It’s pretty uncommon,” Alex conceded, “but it’s not unknown.”
“I like Ingleby,” Pennington went on, “and he’s very sexy, but doing it with his dad; I just don’t like the idea. They asked me to go to their house, but I don’t want to.”
“Don’t let them talk you into something you’re not comfortable with,” Alex advised. “If you don’t want to go, don’t. It’s your choice. Are you seeing Ingleby again?”
“Friday. I hope it’s dried up by then. Actually, I saw him yesterday. The other thing I thought was weird was him having no hair on his dick. Several of the other boys do. Anyway, I asked him about it. He said his dad shaves them off.”
“Oh, I see. Well I’ll be seeing him tomorrow.”
“Are we doing anything at the weekend?”
“I could ask Bradshaw to come over on Saturday instead of Sunday and invite Mr Brown to join us. But only if you fancy it.”
“I was hoping you’d invite Ingleby.”
“I might have done, but I understand he’s going on holiday.”
“Oh yes! I forgot. He told me about that. He said his daddy was taking him to a special camp ‘for people like them’, only it’s not a real camp. It’s in a big old house in the middle of nowhere.”
“Right!” Alex said thoughtfully. “Did he say if they’d been before?”
“Yes. He said they went last year too, but he was looking forward to this one more because now that he can cum, he’d be able to fuck some of the younger boys.”
From the sound of things, the Inglebys were involved in a ‘fathers and sons’ sex-ring, Alex speculated. He had to admit that it was an exciting prospect. He wondered how many people would be attending the camp. If there were too many, the risks involved would be difficult to control. Although he was still keen to get Ingleby into his inner circle, he knew he would need to tread very carefully.
“They’re going to be away for three weeks,” Alex said. “Ingleby and I have arranged to meet when they get back. I may find out more about it then.”
“So I guess it’ll have to be Bradshaw,” Pennington responded. “D’you think he’ll want to fuck me?”
“I don’t know. He may do. But it would be better if you fucked him.”
“You’re bigger than he is.” He could have added that Pennington was too accustomed to taking much bigger ones than Bradshaw’s slim four-and-a-bit inches, but resisted the temptation. “But you can sort it out between yourselves,” he concluded.
They arrived at the flat. After fifteen minutes of their customary foreplay, Alex opened a drawer and took out a pair of boys’ football shorts.
“Will you put these on for me?” he asked, handing them over.
“Ingleby told me about you fucking him in his football shorts,” Pennington said, smirking. “I don’t think he liked it much.”
“In one way, he liked it as much as you and Whitney do. What he didn’t like was having to wear messy shorts afterwards. He said if I’d known what I was going to do, he’d have brought his underpants with him so he could get changed. I asked him why he didn’t just take the football shorts off, but he said he was afraid he’d leak into his school shorts, which is fair enough, I guess. Then when we got back to the car, he asked if he could go into the toilets and get changed there.”
“So had he spunked in them?” Pennington asked, pulling on the shorts.
“Oh yes! It seemed that he wasn’t comfortable with doing that.”
“That’s weird! I love being messy!”
“So I gathered!”
“Did you let him go to the toilets, then?”
“Yes. It would have been mean not to.” Alex paused for a moment. “Right, young man,” he instructed, indicating the chair by his desk. “Bend over there!”
With Pennington in position, Alex moved in close, guiding his cock up the leg of the twelve-year old’s shorts before thrusting it through the boy’s anal ring.
“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he demanded.
“Oh, yes sir!”
Without further hesitation, Alex set to work, remorselessly pounding the youngster’s bottom. Pennington moaned and whimpered, keenly aware of the small wet patch developing at the front of his shorts, while the tingling in his penis was becoming almost unbearable.
“Oh sir!” he groaned, gasping for breath. “I’m going to cum!”
“Yes!” Alex responded. “Just like Ingleby did. Only you really like it, don’t you?”
Pennington was unable to answer. Jets of boy-cum squirted from his penis, the small, wet patch at the front of his shorts turning into a large sticky one.
“Oh yes!” Alex crowed. “You naughty boy! It’s time you had your bottom filled!”
Tightening his grip on Pennington’s thighs, Alex thrust in deep, several ropes of creamy spunk spurting into the youngster’s sex-tunnel. Alex was triumphant. As far as he was concerned, there was no better feeling than having his orgasm set off by a cute pubescent boy cumming while he was fucking the lad.
After a brief pause, Alex carefully pulled out. Almost immediately, semen spluttered from the twelve-year old’s anus, creating another sticky patch at the back of his shorts. Pennington quickly pulled them off.
“Here you are sir,” he said, returning them to their owner. “A souvenir for you!”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
For Alex, the Saturday foursome with Bradshaw and Mr Brown proved to be very enjoyable. In truth, the start was a little disappointing. Pennington wanted Bradshaw to fuck him, but although Alex’s protégé managed to cum, neither boy appeared to be especially turned on.
The second part, however, was much more exciting. Pennington sat on Alex’s lap, taking the teacher’s penis right inside him. At the same time, Bradshaw got spit-roasted, taking Pennington’s cock in his mouth while Mr Brown fucked his cute little bottom. That part of the exercise, Alex reflected, was one that he’d be more than happy to repeat.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following Wednesday afternoon, the summer term was finally over, leaving Michael with two days before he’d have to leave for the family holiday in Wales. The next morning, after completing a few chores, he made his way to his bedroom to wait for Lorenzo to arrive. He was very excited, his stone-hard penis intermittently throbbing in his underpants.
Ten minutes later, they were snuggled up on the bed, as naked as the day they were born. Lorenzo seemed tense and unsettled, Michael noted, not at all like his usual self.
“Can I fuck you?” the lad demanded, his intense dark eyes fixed on Michael’s blue ones.
“Sure,” Michael said, smiling.
Retrieving the tube of K-Y from its hiding place, Michael lovingly coated his boyfriend’s prick.
“How are we doing it?” Lorenzo asked.
“Like we’ve done before,” Michael said.
“Can’t we do it the way that you do me?” Lorenzo argued.
“Sorry, I’m too stiff and awkward to do it like that. I find it really uncomfortable.”
Michael placed his pillow in the middle of the bed, covering it with an old towel before lying face-down on top, his legs spread apart. Moments later, Lorenzo’s cock speared into him. Within a few seconds, he was being pounded remorselessly.
It was a major surprise. This wasn’t the relaxed, measured performance that he’d experienced on previous occasions. The fifteen-year old was giving it everything, fucking him as though the world was about to end. Michael wasn’t objecting. After all, it was very exciting. It was just so unexpected.
The intensity built rapidly. Michael lay as still as he could, keen to make it last, but his penis rubbing back and forth against the rough towelling, together with the stimulation that Lorenzo was applying to his prostate, defeated him.
“Ohhh!” he groaned. “Ohh, I’m going to cum!”
In an instant his body was wracked with muscle spasms, his starfish flaring and clamping around Lorenzo’s invading prick. Spunk surged through his teen prong, spurting hard onto the towel.
“My turn now!” Lorenzo responded, thrusting harder than ever. “Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhhhh!”
With his orgasm at an end, he collapsed onto Michael’s back, his heart thumping against the thirteen-year old’s spine. Finally, he pulled out, rolling off to one side.
“That was different,” Michael commented, turning to face him.
“But you must have liked it,” Lorenzo insisted. “You shot all over the towel!”
“Yeah, it was fine,” Michael reassured him. “Really exciting. It’s just that you don’t usually go at it like that.”
Michael reached out, trying to draw Lorenzo towards him.
“Hey!” he said, looking the lad right in the eye. “You’re really tense! What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Lorenzo answered, brushing it off. “I get like that sometimes.”
“Just try to relax,” Michael urged, wrapping his arms around Lorenzo’s shoulders. “I’m here for you. I’m always going to be here for you,” he continued, gently massaging his boyfriend’s back.
Deep inside, he was concerned. For the first time since they’d met, he’d seen a flash of the Lorenzo who got into trouble, the one that Mr Faulkner had found so hard to deal with. This was one of the bad days that his Uncle Jack had warned him about. It was the first inkling he’d had of the scale of the task he’d taken on. But there was no question of him backing away. Although he’d begun to understand how hard it was going to be, he was more determined than ever.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
With lunchtime approaching, the boys cycled to Lorenzo’s house. Francesca was cooking lunch and Michael was invited. They strolled into the kitchen where Francesca was getting everything ready.
“Hi, sis,” Lorenzo greeted. “This is Michael, a friend from school.”
“Hi Michael,” Francesca responded, smiling. “Do you like Italian food?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had any,” Michael told her.
“It’ll be a first for you then,” she said brightly. “I hope you enjoy it.”
The boys moved on into the combined lounge and dining room. Lorenzo’s mother was reading a magazine.
“Hi Mum,” Lorenzo said casually. “This is Michael, the friend from school I told you about.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs Parker,” Michael said politely. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Good afternoon,” she replied in a thick Italian accent. “You are very welcome here. I’m pleased that you have better manners than my son.”
Michael swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know what to say. He was rescued by Mr Parker returning from the bathroom.
“Dad,” Lorenzo said. “This is Michael, the friend I told you about.”
“Good afternoon, Mr Parker,” Michael greeted.
“Good afternoon,” the man said gruffly, clearly struggling for breath. “I hope you’ve got a bit more about you than some of Lorenzo’s other friends. He says you have.”
Once again, Michael was caught off-guard, unable to think of a reply. They made their way to Lorenzo’s bedroom. Somewhat to Michael’s surprise, the place was immaculate, all the boy’s possessions neatly arranged, the exact opposite of what people expect a teenage boy’s room to look like.
“This is nice!” Michael said, smiling. “It’s even neater than mine!”
“Yeah, well I hate not being able to find stuff,” Lorenzo responded. “You should see Luke’s room. Most of the time it looks like a bomb’s hit it. His mum always has to tell him to tidy it up. I couldn’t live like that. When I was small, Dad taught me to put my toys away, put my clothes where they needed to go, all of that.”
Michael noticed a tinge of sadness in his boyfriend’s voice, regret for a relationship that had been curtailed by his father’s poor health. A few minutes later, they were called to the living room. As they began to eat, Michael was more than impressed.
“Mmmm! This is delicious!” he enthused. “If this is what Italian food’s like, I’ll want to try it again.”
“Thanks!” Francesca answered, giving him a big smile.
“Can Lorenzo cook as well as this?” Michael asked.
“Sometimes,” she said, grinning at her brother. “When he puts his mind to it.”
The meal continued, punctuated by snippets of inconsequential conversation, the tension between Lorenzo and his mother simmering underneath. Mr Parker said hardly anything, probably because his chest was so bad, Michael speculated. Francesca was definitely the star, he noted: lively, cheerful and clearly very intelligent. She and Lorenzo seemed very close too, he observed, much closer than Chris was with either of his sisters. Finally, lunch was over.
“Okay,” Lorenzo said. “Fran did the cooking so I have to wash up.”
“I’ll help you,” Michael offered.
“Thanks. I’ll wash; you wipe.”
“You’ll have to put the stuff away. I don’t know where anything goes.”
The boys settled to their task. There was little conversation, Michael in particular being at a loss for anything to say. A few minutes later, the chore was completed, with everything put back in its appointed place. They wandered back into the living room.
“We’re going out on our bikes for a bit,” Lorenzo announced. “I’ll be back later.”
They made their way out, setting off on a rather circuitous route before finally arriving at Michael’s house. After they’d locked up their bikes, Michael led the way inside.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” Lorenzo said.
“You’d had an argument with your mum.” Michael responded, cutting him off.
“Oh God! Was it that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“She had another go at me for not going to Italy. I said something I shouldn’t have.”
“Have you apologised?”
“You need to. I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”
There was a long pause.
“You sound like Fran,” Lorenzo commented. “That’s what she would have said.”
“And she’d have been right. At least, that’s what I think.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it when I get home, I promise.”
They made their way to Michael’s bedroom. After Michael had closed the curtains, they began to undress each other. For the second time that day, they snuggled up on the bed. Lorenzo was still tense, Michael noted.
“Just try to relax,” Michael whispered.
“What I need,” Lorenzo responded, “is a damn good fucking.”
“The usual way?”
“No, do it the way I did you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Okay, let’s get you ready.”
“I am ready,” Lorenzo insisted. “I want it now.”
For the second time that day, Michael placed the pillow in the middle of the bed, covering it with the old towel. Turning onto his front, Lorenzo lay down, the pillow beneath his hips, his legs spread apart. Michael quickly lubricated his penis. Although he loved to have younger kids in this position, he’d never envisaged fucking Lorenzo like this. But it was what his boyfriend had asked for. He wasn’t going to say no.
Lowering himself into position, his cock homed in on Lorenzo’s starfish. He pushed hard, penetrating the lad immediately.
“Come on Mike!” Lorenzo demanded. “Fuck me hard!”
Michael needed no second invitation. Within a matter of seconds he was pounding the older teen’s arse as though his life depended on it, Lorenzo’s moans and gasps adding fuel to the fire. Suddenly, the lad bucked wildly.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” he groaned.
In the next instant his prick jerked into action. As his rosebud spasmed around Michael’s invading cock, three volleys of teen cum spurted onto the towel.
“Oh fuck!” Michael growled. “My turn now! Here it cums! Ohhhhhh!”
Gripping Lorenzo’s shoulders to steady himself, his spunk flooded over and over into his boyfriend’s rectum. For almost half a minute, he lay where he was, completely spent. Finally, he withdrew. As he flopped down on the bed, Lorenzo turned to face him. They snuggled up, their mouths meeting in a passionate kiss. All the tension had gone.
“That was fantastic,” Lorenzo whispered, the back of his index finger gently stroking Michael’s face.
“It was for me too.”
“I need you to do something for me,” Lorenzo requested.
“Sure, what is it?”
“If you can feel that I’m all tense and uppity, I want you to fuck me just like you did then. Don’t take any notice of what I say I want. I need you to take charge and give me a really good seeing-to.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with what we did this morning, but it didn’t solve the problem. I was as tense afterwards as I’d been when I got here. So will you do that for me?”
“Of course, if you think it’s going to help.”
“Oh, it definitely will. Now if I’m feeling good and things are going well, that’s a different matter. And you’ll know, won’t you?”
“Oh, I’ll know,” Michael assured him.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
During the evening, Michael puzzled over the day’s events. One thing seemed pretty clear. If somebody had a go at him, Lorenzo’s instinct was to bark at them. Afterwards, he’d be tense and upset, feeling guilty for having lost his temper.
Suddenly, it started to make sense. When something like that happened, Lorenzo didn’t need tea and sympathy. He didn’t need to be indulged either. He needed Michael to stay calm and be strong for him, to keep him on the straight and narrow.
That was quite a tall order, Michael considered, especially as Lorenzo was actually older than he was. It was the role that Lorenzo’s dad would have played, but the man’s failing health had prevented it. But that was the situation. ‘I’ll just have to get on with it,’ Michael told himself.
Then another thought occurred to him. Looking after Lorenzo on his own was going to be very hard. What the lad needed was to have other friends that he could turn to, other boys ‘who understood what it was like to be him’. Maybe Uncle Jack could help too, he speculated. He went to bed early, a plan starting to form in his head.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following morning, Michael was out of bed at quarter to eight. Having washed, dressed and had breakfast, he took his bike from the shed and headed over to Chris’s house. Feeling a little apprehensive, he rang the bell. Andrea, Chris’s older sister, answered the door.
“Hello,” Michael said nervously. “Is Chris here?”
“Chris!” Andrea called, retreating into the house. “It’s for you! It’s Michael.”
Moments later, Chris appeared at the front door.
“Hi!” he said smiling. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Is it okay if I come in?” Michael requested. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
Leading Michael inside, Chris stuck his head into the dining room where Robbie was building something very complicated out of Meccano.
“Michael and I are going to our room,” he said firmly. “There’s something we need to talk about. Don’t come barging in, okay?”
Closing the door again, he guided Michael to the room that he shared with his younger brother.
“Okay, he said. “So what did you want to ask me?”
Over the next few minutes, Michael explained about meeting Lorenzo, how close they’d become and how he’d found out about the problems his boyfriend had been through.
“So, you’ve finally got serious about someone?” Chris quipped, smiling. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I didn’t expect it either,” Michael responded. “But I didn’t have much choice. His life’s been a mess. Just playing at it wasn’t going to do any good. We wouldn’t have lasted five minutes. And I really do like him.”
“Yes, I can see that. So how can I help?”
“You know before we split up, we were planning to go out on our bikes, visiting historic houses, that sort of thing. Do you and Mark do that?”
“Yes. Actually, we’ve been to a few places. Once we’re both back from holiday, there are some others we want to visit. Would you and Lorenzo like to come with us?”
“That would be super. Lorenzo told me that I’m the only person he’s met who understands what it’s like to be him. I think it would really help if he met some more people like us.”
“I’ll have to ask Mark, but I don’t think there’ll be a problem.”
“Thanks! You and Mark won’t show us up, will you? I’m sure you two are fitter than we are.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Chris said, smiling. “We don’t rush. Er, you won’t be expecting, . . . will you?”
“Definitely not,” Michael assured him. “You’re with Mark; I’m with Lorenzo. That’s it. I just want Lorenzo to have other people he can talk to when he’s finding things a bit tough.”
“Well, I’ll be glad to help if I can. I’m sure Mark will too. Hearing about kids like him makes me realise how lucky I’ve been. Mum and Dad have been fantastic. They know about me and Mark. Dad’s actually talked to me about it. He said we have every right to be who we are. Of course, they’re delighted with how well I’ve done since Mark and I have been together, which helps. Dad reckons that in a few years’ time the law will be changed and being homosexual won’t be illegal anymore.”
“Wow! So when are you back from holiday?”
“We’re going away tomorrow for two weeks.”
“The same as us. I’ll be in touch when we get back.”
A couple of minutes later, Michael was back on his bike, heading for home. He was going to spend most of the day with Lorenzo. It would be their last day together before his family’s holiday in Wales. He was determined to make the most of it.
In the event, it was everything he could have asked for. Having apologised to his mum, Lorenzo was back to being the gentle, affectionate, sexy boy that Michael had fallen in love with. Spending the next two weeks apart was going to be hard for both of them.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The drive to South Wales seemed less tedious than Michael remembered from previous years. The main reason was that his father was very chatty, and included him in the conversation. For part of the journey, Michael even got to sit in the front passenger seat, a privilege he’d never been allowed before. It was almost as though he’d just arrived as a fully-fledged adult.
Strange as that seemed, Michael wasn’t objecting. Actually, he rather liked it. Of course, it didn’t make up for his dad’s earlier indifference to him, but he realised that there was no point in dwelling on that. It was time to make a fresh start. As long as his dad didn’t get too close, it was much better to have him taking an interest and being generally supportive than for them to be at each other’s throat.
Finally, they reached their destination. The hotel where they would be staying was larger and better than the ones they’d used before, and instead of sharing a family room with his parents as he always had previously, Michael had a room of his own.
“Thanks Mum! Thanks Dad!” he said appreciatively, grinning from ear to ear.
“At your age, you need a bit of privacy,” his Dad said knowingly. “And now that your mum’s back at work, we can afford to do it, so why not?”
“And you won’t have to stay with us the whole time,” his mum added. “We’ll expect you to be there for meals, but in between times, as long as we know where you’re going, it’s up to you.”
As Michael settled himself in, he was glowing. All his efforts had paid off. His parents had allowed him to step into the adult world by giving him his own space and a fair amount of freedom to do as he wanted. As the ultimate accolade, he’d even been entrusted with his own key. That was really special.
If the weather was good, he could go out and explore the area. If it wasn’t, he could stay in his room and read. Of course, he would still miss Lorenzo, but actually being able to choose what he wanted to do would make this a very different holiday from the ones he’d been on before. He could hardly wait to get started.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After spending a few days at his parents’ house, on the following Monday, Alex returned to his flat just in time for lunch. As Bradshaw and his Mum were spending the week in Margate, he’d arranged for Tom Pennington to come around. The lad was due to arrive at two o’clock.
Things had actually worked out rather well. On the day that Bradshaw came home, the Pennington family would be off for a fortnight in Torquay. Afterwards, the lad would be spending a couple of weeks at his cousin’s house near Chichester, returning home just a week before the start of the new term.
Alex had considered spending a couple of weeks in Portugal. He could have scraped the money together, and meeting some different boys would have been nice, but the Portuguese lads would expect to be paid for their services, and from what he’d been told, he might not get as much for his money as he’d have wanted. Accordingly, he’d decided to stay at home. With either Pennington or Bradshaw to look after his needs, and Ingleby due back in a couple of weeks, it seemed the sensible decision.
The mantle clock struck two. Alex gritted his teeth, wondering if the boy would show up, but less than a minute later, the doorbell rang. He went to answer it.
“Hello, sir!” Pennington said brightly as he entered the flat. “Sorry I’m a bit late. Have you missed me?”
“A little,” Alex admitted, guiding the lad into the lounge. “Being able to relax and have my meals cooked for me definitely helped, but I couldn’t stay away for long.”
“I understand, sir,” Pennington assured him, flopping down on the sofa.
Alex sat down next to him. As he began to stroke the youngster’s thigh, he reflected on his continued good fortune. Pennington didn’t have much by way of personality, reserving his enthusiasm for sex, and games like cricket and tennis, but he was as cute as they come, and very fuckable.
“So after your family holiday, you’re going to stay with your cousin again?” Alex queried.
“Yes, sir,” Pennington answered, grinning.
“I guess you’re looking forward to it.”
“Yes sir, very much.”
“Have you discussed it with him?”
“No sir, we haven’t had the chance. I mean, it’s not the sort of thing you can put in a letter, is it?”
“I hope you’re not going to be disappointed. He might have grown out of it, started chasing girls or something. It does happen.”
“I don’t think so, sir. If he’d grown out of it, I don’t think he’d have asked his Mum if he could invite me again.”
“Ah!” Alex conceded. “You do have a point there.”
They made their way to the bedroom. After sensuously undressing each other, they snuggled up on the bed. Over the next fifteen minutes, they kissed, they fondled, they sucked; their foreplay ranging over all the things they’d done before.
Finally, Pennington was down on all fours, his feet overhanging the bottom of the bed. Alex, kneeling at the foot of the bed, began to work his tongue into the twelve-year old’s rosebud. Pennington gurgled contentedly. He loved being licked out. It was the perfect prelude to being fucked, and Mr Faulkner did it better than anyone.
They’d done it out in the woods, the previous Wednesday, the day they’d broken up for the summer holiday. He hadn’t had sex since, and he was desperate to have the man’s hard prong inside him again, his joystick throbbing all by itself.
Removing his tongue, Alex began to give Pennington a steady finger-fucking, pleased to find that after five days’ abstinence, the lad was a little tighter than usual. His preparations completed, Alex withdrew his finger. Placing one of his pillows in the middle of the bed, he covered it with a towel.
“Lie down,” he ordered.
As Pennington complied with his request, Alex coated his prick with K-Y. He admired his prize, a truly beautiful pre-teen boy lying submissively before him, the lad’s perfect bottom sticking up invitingly. Spreading the boy’s legs a little wider, Alex knelt between them before carefully lowering himself into position. He was more than ready. Guiding his rampant cock onto the youngster’s starfish, he thrust it in.
“Oh, sir!” Pennington protested, gasping for breath.
“Just relax,” Alex said soothingly. “It’s been a while since you’ve taken it like this. Just get used to me being there.”
After a couple of minutes, Alex pushed down again, his penis thrusting deeper into Pennington’s boy-tunnel. After driving over the boy’s sex-button, he bottomed out, his pubic hair rubbing against the youngster’s bottom. Taking a moment to steady himself, he began to fuck.
Pennington scarcely knew where he was. Mr Faulkner’s heart was thumping against his back, the man’s musky aroma flooded his nostrils and that beautiful cock thrust repeatedly over his prostate, the intensity increasing inexorably until it was right off the scale.
“Oh sir!” he whimpered. “I’m going to cum!”
“Of course you are, you sexy boy!” Alex growled.
A moment later, the boy’s anal ring tightened sharply around his prick, sucking him right in.
“Oh yes!” he crowed. “Ohhh! I’m going to fill your beautiful little bottom!”
With his balls churning into life, his penis jerked violently, volley after volley of creamy spunk spurting into Pennington’s bum. The boy was overjoyed, feeling the man ejaculating deep inside him.
For several seconds, Alex lay where he was, basking in the wonderful afterglow. Fucks, he reflected, didn’t get much better than that. After gently pulling out, he lay down on the bed. He turned Pennington onto his side, drawing the lad into a passionate post-fuck kiss.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you sir?” Pennington teased.
“Oh, there’s no denying that,” Alex responded. “And you did too, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir. Sir, when d’you want to see me again?”
“You’re off on holiday on Saturday, aren’t you?”
“Yes sir, first thing in the morning.”
“Then I’d like to see you Wednesday and Friday if I can.”
“Yes sir. On Friday, is it okay if we meet in the morning? I think Mum’s going to want me to be around in the afternoon.”
“Yes, that’ll be fine.”
“Okay then, sir. I’ll meet you on Wednesday afternoon; two o’clock, outside the park.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Tuesday morning. Michael was sitting in the hotel dining room, munching his way through a plateful of bacon and eggs, a luxury he enjoyed only when they were on holiday. He was just finishing when quite unexpectedly, he was approached by a boy he judged to be a year or so younger than himself.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” the lad said politely. “My name’s Peter. I noticed that you were here just with your parents. I wondered if we might be able to spend some time together. Only if you want to, of course.”
Michael had seen Peter at meal times. He was with his parents and his two sisters, one older, one younger. The family seemed quite posh. The boy’s father drove a Jaguar Mark IX, a bigger car than Mr Smith’s Mark 2, but without the up-to-the-minute styling.
Though not one to turn heads, at around five feet tall and slim without being skinny, Peter was a nice-looking boy, Michael considered. In different circumstances, he might have been the one making the approach. But having told Lorenzo that he wouldn’t be looking at other boys, he’d kept away.
“Well, that’s fine with me,” Michael responded, smiling. “But apart from meal times, I’m not expected to stay around Mum and Dad. As long as I tell them where I’m going, I can do pretty much what I want. Are you sure your parents will be happy with that?”
“Well, it was Mummy who said I should come and speak to you,” Peter said.
“So why don’t we go and ask her?” Michael’s mum suggested. “You stay here,” she added, turning to Michael. “If you two are going to be spending time together, I need to have a word with Peter’s mum.”
She and Peter headed across to the table where the boy’s family were sitting. Although Michael couldn’t hear anything, from what he could see, it was a very friendly conversation. A couple of minutes later, she was back.
“That’s fine,” she announced. “They seem very nice, and Peter will be a bit of company for you. And I told his mum how sensible you are.”
“Mum!” Michael protested, blushing bright red.
“I told her you were sensible because you are,” his mum countered. “If you weren’t, I couldn’t have gone back to work and we wouldn’t be able to afford holidays like this. Anyway, Peter will meet you in the lobby at quarter to ten, which gives you half an hour. We’ll be going for lunch at one, so make sure you’re back by then. You know where we’ll be.”
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
“Where d’you live?” Peter asked as the boys strolled around the town.
“Not far from Reading, if you know where that is,” Michael told him.
“Between Bristol and London.”
“Yeah, we’re on the London side. What about you?”
“Cheltenham. Where d’you go to school?”
“Oh, I’m at grammar school. I’ve just finished second year.”
“So you’re thirteen then,” Peter said.
“Yeah, I’ll be fourteen at the beginning of September.”
“I’m twelve,” Peter informed him. “I’m at boarding school in Hereford. I’ve got one year left before I start at public school.”
“So when will you be thirteen?”
The seventeen-month age-gap sounded about right, Michael decided, but the mention of boarding school set alarm-bells ringing. He wondered whether Peter’s school was like the ones where Mr Smith and Mr Brown taught. Even if it wasn’t, he felt sure that Peter would know more about sex than most of his classmates had when they were Peter’s age. He put the thought out of his mind. He and Peter were spending time together, keeping each other company. That was all it was.
At eleven o’clock, with the day getting very warm they headed for the beach. Setting their bags down next to Michael’s parents, they played a game of catch with a tennis ball that Peter had brought. Although Michael had little interest in ball-games, catching a tennis ball wasn’t a problem, especially as Peter couldn’t throw it that hard. He actually found it quite enjoyable.
“D’you fancy a splash about?” Peter asked.
“Sure,” Michael told him, “but we can’t go out too far. I can’t swim very well.”
“Neither can I,” Peter responded.
They quickly pulled off sandals, shorts and t-shirts, leaving them dressed just in swimming trunks, Michael’s black, Peter’s bright blue.
“No more than waist-deep,” Michael’s mum warned.
“Yes, mum. We know!” Michael assured her.
Despite the day being very warm, the water was too cold for them to go in very far. Even getting the water over their swimming trunks came as quite a shock. But for all that, they had great fun, larking around and splashing each other, the way that boys do. After twenty minutes, they were exhausted.
“I need a piss,” Michael said, heading back towards his clothes.
“Me too!” Peter responded.
After quickly towelling themselves down, they put on their shorts over their still-damp trunks, donned their sandals and made their way towards the public toilets on the promenade. When they reached the entrance, Michael let Peter go first, immediately following him in.
As the twelve-year old stepped up to the urinal, Michael stood immediately to his right, but a couple of inches further back than he needed to, making it easy for him to see if the younger lad was looking at his boyhood. Having pulled down his zip, he fished it out of his trunks and began to pee. After a few seconds, he glanced to his left. Peter was definitely checking him out. In fact, the boy was unashamedly staring at Michael’s prick.
After shaking the last few droplets from his foreskin, Michael tucked his cock back into his swimming trunks, pulled up his zip and made his way out as though nothing had happened. It was an awkward situation. He’d promised Lorenzo that nothing like that would happen while he was on holiday. He’d stayed away from Peter for precisely that reason. It now seemed quite likely that something would happen.
But it wasn’t his fault, he reasoned. He hadn’t gone looking for it, and that was how it was going to stay. If Peter wanted to take things further, he’d have to start it. The problem was that like most of the other boarding school boys that Michael had encountered, the lad seemed to have enough confidence to do just that.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After lunch, Peter and Michael met on the beach.
“Come on,” Peter whispered mysteriously. “There’s somewhere I want to show you.”
They strolled along the beach until they reached the headland. After picking their way around some rocks, they found themselves on another stretch of sand that was completely inaccessible from the cliffs above. The place was deserted.
“This is about the earliest we could have come here,” Peter explained. “We needed to wait until the tide went out.”
“We’re not going to get cut off, are we?” Michael queried.
“No chance! Low tide’s at about four o’clock. We’ve got ages.”
“So where are we going?”
For several minutes, they walked on in silence. Michael was apprehensive, pretty sure that he knew what the younger boy had in mind. The problem was that while his head was telling him one thing, his cock was saying the exact opposite. Finally, Peter turned towards the cliffs, leading them into a cave.
“Wow!” Michael exclaimed. “This place is pretty cool!”
“Yeah!” Peter agreed. “I found it yesterday.”
There was an awkward pause, Peter looking intently at his new friend. Suddenly, he found his voice again.
“Would you like to mess around?” he whispered.
Michael swallowed hard. This was what he’d expected.
“No, sorry,” he said gently. “It’s not that I don’t like you, but I’ve got a boyfriend. We’ve only been together for a few weeks. I’m not going to cheat on him.”
“Oh, come on!” Peter urged, grinning. “You’re on holiday!”
“Yes, I know,” Michael said, squirming. “But it just doesn’t feel right.”
“What are you so worried about? He’s not going to know!”
“I know that, but, . . .”
“Did he tell you not to do anything while you were away?”
“So why are you so worried? We’re here and he’s not. Make the most of it! I bet he would if he was here. And think about it; he’s not going to find out unless you tell him. Come on! You know you want to!”
And that was the issue. He did want to, and Peter knew it. His cock, sticking up in his shorts, had given him away. He hesitated for a moment, but it was a lost cause.
“Okay then,” he whispered, conceding defeat.
Without another word being spoken, sandals, t-shirts and shorts were quickly discarded.
“Nice cock!” Michael breathed, placing his hand on the hard bulge at the front of the twelve-year old’s trunks.
“You’ve got a beauty,” Peter responded. “I saw it while you were having a piss.”
“Yes, I know,” Michael said, pulling down the younger boy’s trunks to expose the lad’s slim, uncut, four-inch prick. “I saw you peeking.”
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Peter said, returning the favour. “I mean, before you met your boyfriend.”
“Other boys from school, mainly.”
“Same here. Last year, right after Easter, I acquired an older friend.”
“Did he have a big cock?”
“Pretty big; not as big as yours though.”
“What did you do?”
“Everything, just about. Mainly, he liked to bum me.”
“Did you like that?”
“Yeah! I loved having his cock up my bum! I’ve done it with a couple of other boys too. Have you ever been bummed?”
“Yeah. Before I met my boyfriend, my form master had been doing me for almost two years.”
“Wow! How did that start?”
Michael quickly related the story. “But I wasn’t a virgin,” he concluded. “My Uncle Jack took my cherry when I was ten. He’s my mum’s younger brother.”
“Do your parents know?”
“Not a clue.”
“Nice!” Peter breathed. “Just before the end of term, I had to go to see my housemaster. He told me he knew about me and Frobisher. Then he pulled my shorts and pants down. I got his dick out and we sucked each other. Then I bent over the chair and he bummed me.”
“Did you like that?”
“Yeah! His cock’s about the same length as yours, but thicker, so it hurt when he stuck it in, but once he got going, it felt fantastic. Afterwards, he said that now that Frobisher’s left, I’m going to be his boy when we get back to school. Have you ever bummed a boy?”
“Yeah. I do it to my boyfriend and he does it to me. And my form master knows a couple of first-year boys. I’ve fucked them both. I used to have a friend in my form that I did it with too, but I didn’t treat him very well, you know, doing stuff with my form master and these younger kids, so eventually he found someone else.”
“Would you like to bum me?” Peter demanded.
“Yes, but I haven’t brought any lube with me. It’s back at the hotel.”
“I’ve got some,” Peter said, grinning mischievously.
“So have you fucked another boy?”
“Not yet. I guess I will eventually.”
“Can you cum yet?”
“Yes, but I’m just not that bothered about bumming another boy. I’d rather have it done to me.”
“Okay! But let’s take our time. There’s no rush.”
Kneeling on the sand, Michael took the younger boy’s cock into his mouth and began to suck. After a few seconds, he slipped his hand between Peter’s thighs, his fingers stroking the lad’s perineum. Very gradually he worked his way back until he was tickling the boy’s rosebud.
“Ooooh!” Peter mewed. “Oooh, that feels super!”
After a couple of minutes, Michael eased himself away.
“Your turn now,” he said, standing up again.
Moments later, his prick was disappearing into Peter’s mouth. As the lad begun to suck him, Michael stroked the boy’s hair, revelling in the exquisite sensations.
“Okay,” he said eventually. “You’d better stop now.”
Somewhat reluctantly, Peter let him go.
“Where are we doing this?” Michael asked, helping the younger lad to his feet.
“I thought this would be the best place,” Peter responded, positioning himself over a rock where he could rest his hands. “But you’ll need the lube, won’t you?”
“Not just yet,” Michael said. “Stay there. There’s something else we need to do first.”
He knelt down again. Prising the boy’s bum-cheeks apart, he began to work his tongue into the twelve-year old’s starfish.
“Oh God!” Peter groaned. “Oh, that feels incredible!”
“I take it you’ve never had your bum licked out before?”
“No! Ooooh, it’s amazing!”
“I do it all the time. My form master taught me.”
After a couple of minutes, Michael’s tongue began to ache.
“So where’s the lube then?” he asked.
“In my shorts, left hand pocket.”
Having retrieved a small tin of Brilliantine, Michael smeared some over his index-finger before carefully inserting it into Peter’s anus. It slid in easily, a testament to the lad’s experience. After a few seconds, he withdrew it.
“Stand up and turn around,” he instructed. “You know what to do with this,” he added, presenting Peter with the tin. Within a matter of seconds, his penis was glistening, the touch of the younger boy’s fingers making him tingle.
“Okay, he said. “Back where you were.”
“Will you suck me off after you’ve bummed me?” Peter asked.
“I will if you haven’t already cum,” Michael assured him.
With Peter in position, Michael moved in close, guiding his cock onto the lad’s rosebud.
“Go on Mike!” Peter urged. “Stuff it in!”
With one determined thrust, Michael penetrated the twelve-year old’s anal ring.
“Oh yes!” Peter gasped. “Now stick it right up!”
Holding the lad around the tops of his thighs, Michael pushed in deeper until his pubic bone was pressed tight against the boy’s bottom. After taking a moment to settle himself, he began to fuck. Peter was ecstatic, the penetration deeper than Frobisher had been able to manage, but less painful than his housemaster’s.
Peter’s involuntary moans and squeaks drove Michael to even greater efforts. Not only was he enjoying every second of this experience, the young bottom-boy was too, and that was the best feeling of all. Sensing that his orgasm was on its way, he reached down. Wrapping his fingers around the twelve-year old’s throbbing penis, he began to wank the lad.
“Ohhh!” Peter gasped, shuddering from head to foot. “I’m going to cum!”
“Yes!” Michael urged. “Do it!”
A moment later, Peter’s joystick swelled and pulsed, little drops of watery boy-juice making landfall on the rock where his hands were resting. At the same moment, the lad’s anal spasms sent Michael flying over the edge to who knows where. Involuntarily tightening his grip on the younger boy’s thighs, the teenager thrust in one last time. Suddenly, everything went crazy. A kaleidoscope of lights flashed in front of him. The ground shook. His balls churned into life. Finally, his cock jerked, pumping rope after rope of hot teen spunk into the twelve-year old’s tight little bottom.
After a few seconds, he carefully withdrew, finding himself so light-headed that he had to sit down on the sand.
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, turning to face him.
“Yeah, I think so,” Michael responded, still struggling to get his breathing under control. “I don’t quite know what happened. You wiped me out.”
“I’m not surprised,” Peter said, grinning. “That was super! Now I’ve got all your spunk inside me!”
“Do you like that?”
“Yes, I love it.” Peter said, starting to get dressed.
“Aren’t you worried about making a mess in your swimming trunks?” Michael asked.
“Not at all. I’d have to rinse them out when I get back to the hotel in any case. Don’t worry; nobody’s going to know.” He paused for a moment. “I hoped I might meet someone down here. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone as exciting as you!”
Michael glowed with pride. What a wonderful compliment that was!
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following afternoon found the boys back at the cave. Naked, they were building towards their inevitable climax.
“This time,” Peter requested, smearing K-Y over Michael’s prong. “Would you bum me first then suck me off?”
“I thought you liked it when I played with your cock,” Michael countered. “I love making boys cum while I’m fucking them. It makes me shoot really hard.”
“Oh, I liked it okay, but Frobisher always used to suck me off after he’d bummed me, and I really like that too.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want. Actually, my uncle likes doing it like that, only he didn’t really suck me off. He sort of let me fuck his mouth.”
“I can do that if you want.”
“Okay then. It will take a bit longer for me to cum though.”
“That’s fine,” Peter said, smiling. “I don’t care how long it takes.”
Within a few seconds, Michael had his cock in Peter’s bottom. As he began to fuck, a thought struck him. Peter had said he didn’t mind it taking a long time. The last time they’d met, Holdsworth had told him about edging. He said that he’d had his prick up Van Kerkstraat’s bum for almost twenty minutes, and when he finally did cum, he had the most amazing orgasm.
Michael had been meaning to try it, but had never found the right opportunity. This was it! He began as he usually did, getting into a good rhythm until he was giving the younger boy’s arse a thorough pounding. A few minutes passed. Feeling his orgasm beginning to build, Michael backed right off, carefully easing his penis out of Peter’s anus until only the head was left inside.
“Why have you stopped?” Peter asked. “Have you cum?”
“No, not yet. I’m trying to make it last. It’s called edging. One of the other boys told me about it.”
“Oh! Okay then!”
After a short pause, Michael started again. This time, he tried to keep to a steady pace, but his animal instincts were difficult to control. Five minutes later, he was fucking the lad as hard as he had before. Once again, he sensed that his orgasm was on its way, backing off just in time.
“Oh, you’ve stopped again!” Peter complained. “Finish it, please Mike! I’m desperate to cum!”
“Okay,” Michael agreed. “I need to cum too.”
Gathering his strength, he came out for round three. The problem was that he was already tired and found it hard to get back to the level he’d been at before. Just as he began to worry that he wouldn’t be able to cum, he felt the familiar churning in his balls.
Calling on all his reserves, he made one last effort. He was rewarded with one of the longest, most powerful orgasms he’d experienced. He was on cloud nine; fucking a boy simply didn’t get any better than that. For almost a full minute he remained where he was, so completely drained, he was unable to move.
Having finally withdrawn, Michael sank down onto his knees. Peter turned to face him, guiding his cock into the teenager’s open mouth. Holding the older boy’s head, he began to fuck. It was over in seconds, little drops of boy-cum landing on Michael’s tongue. As the twelve-year old eased himself away, Michael swallowed it down.
“So how was it?” he asked, grinning and licking his lips.
“Oh, it was super!” Peter confirmed. “But my bum’s a bit sore. I’m not used to having it up me for as long as that.”
Having pulled on their clothes, they strolled slowly back to the main beach. Michael’s parents were sitting in deck chairs, reading. ‘What would they think if they knew what we’d been up to?” Michael wondered. He wasn’t worried though. Shielded by his reputation for being sensible, it seemed inconceivable that they would find out.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
For the next few days, the weather remained warm and sunny. Michael and Peter spent most of their time together, strolling around the town, playing on the beach and visiting their favourite hiding place. On the following Monday, however, clouds began to gather. By midday it had begun to rain. It was clear that the afternoon was going to be a washout. After lunch, the boys met in the hotel lounge.
“What are we going to do?” Peter asked. “This is going to be really boring!”
“We’ll just have to make the best of it,” Michael responded. “D’you play cards?”
“Yeah, sort of.”
“I’ve got a pack in my room. I’ll go and get them.”
A few minutes later, Michael was engaged in a game of whist with Peter and his sisters, Judith and Sarah. Michael found it quite enjoyable while it lasted, but pretty soon, the girls lost interest, and headed off to the room they shared.
“So what are we going to do now?” Peter enquired.
Michael didn’t answer. Even for him, two-handed card games were no fun. He looked around. Their parents were sitting on the far side of the lounge, drinking cups of tea and chatting. They were obviously enjoying themselves, and looked as though they’d settled in for the afternoon. Michael made a snap decision.
“Come on,” he said.
He led the way upstairs, heading back to his room. Neither Peter’s parents nor his sisters were a problem; their rooms weren’t anywhere near his. On the other hand, his parents’ room was just across the landing. If they came back from the lounge, it was possible they might hear something, but that didn’t look at all likely. And they wouldn’t need long, half an hour at most.
As they approached his room, Michael looked around. Satisfied that there was no-one about, he opened the door, ushering Peter inside.
“Are we . . . ?” Peter asked, watching Michael lock the door.
“Might as well,” Michael said, grinning. “There’s bugger all else to do.”
“What about your mum and dad?”
“Oh, they’ll be down there for ages,” Michael said, closing the curtains. “They probably won’t come back up until it’s time to get ready for dinner.”
“Won’t they wonder where you’ve gone?”
“As long as we don’t stay away for too long, they probably won’t even notice that I’m not there.”
They began to undress each other. After barely a minute, they were snuggled up on the bed, their stiff cocks grinding together.
“Do you kiss?” Michael asked.
“No. Frobisher never asked me to do that.”
“Want to try it? We can stop if you don’t like it.”
“Open your mouth and relax,” Michael whispered. “Just follow what I do.”
He leaned in, joining his lips to the twelve-year old’s. At first, Peter seemed nervous, but gradually he worked out what to do, their tongues interlocked in a sensuous dance. Finally, Michael eased away.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Nice!” Peter said, grinning. “It’s made me harder than ever!”
“Me too! Ever done a sixty-nine?”
“You mean sucking each other at the same time? Doing it in the places Frobisher and I had to use, it would have been too uncomfortable. We could do it here though.”
They moved into position. Peter took to it immediately, eagerly sucking the older boy’s penis. For a couple of minutes, Michael revelled in the wonderful sensations, expertly working his tongue all over his new friend’s prick. The intensity increased steadily. Concerned that he might ejaculate before he wanted to, Michael called a halt.
“That was fantastic,” he breathed. “I was nearly cumming.”
“Are you going to bum me now?”
“Almost. Let me lick you out first.”
Without waiting to be asked, Peter got onto all fours. Michael didn’t hesitate, putting his tongue to work on the lad’s starfish. It was not long before Peter was more than ready. This, Michael realised, was an opportunity he might not have again. Reaching over, he placed the pillow in the middle of the bed, covering it with his beach towel.
“Lie on your tummy,” he instructed.
As Peter settled himself, Michael coated his prick with K-Y. He licked his lips, admiring the boy lying submissively in front of him, the lad’s cute little bottom sticking up, just waiting to be fucked. ‘This is going to be really special,’ Michael told himself. Having spread Peter’s legs a little wider, he knelt between them. Carefully lowering himself into position, he guided his cock onto the twelve-year old’s anal ring. With one well-practised thrust, he was in.
“Ohhhh!” Peter gasped.
“Just relax,” Michael whispered soothingly. “This is going to feel really good soon!”
Taking his time, he pushed in as deep as he could. After taking a deep breath, he set to work. Spurred on by Peter’s quiet moans and whimpers, he began to fuck the lad harder and harder, until he was giving it everything he had.
For his part, Peter had been transported to a world of sensory pleasure he couldn’t have even imagined. Although he’d been fucked numerous times, it had never been anything like this. The boys were so consumed with lust, World War Three could have started right outside the door. They wouldn’t have known.
“Oh!” Peter squeaked.” I’m going to cum!”
A moment later, his prick sprang into life. As little drops of watery cum squirted onto the towel, his rosebud went into spasm around the teenager’s thrusting cock. It was everything Michael had hoped for. Plunging in deep, he unloaded his teen spunk into his younger friend’s bottom.
Fifteen minutes later, they strolled back into the hotel lounge as though nothing had happened. Both boys were still glowing, feeling like they’d just conquered the world. And why wouldn’t they? Not only had they just had wonderful sex, they’d done it right under their parents’ noses, with the aforementioned adults not suspecting a thing.