THE HUNTING SEASON
By Pink Panther
At last! I've finally completed another chapter. I apologise for the delay, but three weeks ago the chairman of one of the voluntary organisations that I work for resigned with immediate effect. After a few days of picking up the pieces, I was asked to replace him, so I've spent most of the last two weeks getting my feet under the table.
But it's here now, so read on and enjoy! As you know, feedback is always welcome so please send your comments to email@example.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.
Finally, please remember that Nifty depends on readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. Please give generously to keep this valuable resource free to all who wish to use it.
After one rainy day, the good weather returned and the boys were able to resume their daily visits to the cave. Finally, it was Friday, their last full day.
"This morning, we're going to drive to St David's," Michael's mum said pleasantly as they were eating breakfast. "After lunch, we thought we'd call in at Laugharne, to see Dylan Thomas's House. You and Peter can come along if you want. I know you like Dylan Thomas."
Michael took a deep breath. His mum was right in thinking he liked Dylan Thomas. He'd recently seen a television performance of Under Milk Wood and been completely enthralled. But the prospect of spending most of the day sitting in the car did not appeal, especially as he had other plans.
"No thanks, Mum," he said politely. "I think we'd rather stay here, if that's okay."
"Yes, that'll be fine," his mum responded. "I'll give you some money for lunch. You will be alright, won't you?"
"Of course we will!"
Michael was careful not to show how excited he was. From his perspective, things could hardly have worked out better. With his parents safely out of the way, after lunch, rather than visiting the cave, he and Peter would go to his room and reprise what they'd done earlier in the week. It would be the perfect way for them to end their holiday.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following morning, having said goodbye to Peter's family, Michael and his parents got into the Austin Cambridge for the long drive home. Michael sat in the back seat, alone with his thoughts. It had been a wonderful holiday. Having his own room and the freedom to do more or less as he wanted had just been the start. No sooner had he begun to run out of things to keep him occupied, he'd met Peter. An avid reader like himself, the lad had a lively personality and had been excellent company.
Even if things had gone no further, it would have been the best holiday he'd ever been on. Of course, things had gone much further. Michael still felt a little guilty that he'd let Lorenzo down, but it wasn't a major concern. As long as he was sensible, it wasn't going to damage their relationship.
Being sensible meant not denying that he and Peter had spent a large part of the holiday together. Michael wanted Lorenzo to meet his parents, his mum in particular. The topic could easily come up. Yes, they'd spent lots of time together, but no, absolutely nothing happened, not least because Peter never showed the slightest interest.
With nobody to say otherwise, it wouldn't be a difficult line to sell, as long as he kept it simple. That was important. Embellishing things more than he needed to could arouse suspicion; exactly what he didn't want.
Michael had found saying goodbye to Peter rather sad. The previous afternoon had been everything he could have asked for. After twenty minutes of intense foreplay, Peter had lain face-down on the bed, a pillow beneath his hips. Michael had fucked the boy senseless. But now the holiday was over and they each had their own life to return to.
For Michael, that meant getting back to Lorenzo, which was scary and exciting in roughly equal measure. He'd given it a great deal of thought and planned what he was going to do. The challenge now was to go through with it. Most important of all, he'd need to stay calm if things didn't seem to be going right. He'd be able to talk to his Uncle Jack. Michael knew he could rely on support from that quarter. He could talk to Chris too; he'd understand. But that really was about it.
He stared out of the window, admiring the scenery. After passing through Llandovery, they drove through the Brecon Beacons before stopping for lunch in Monmouth. From there, they headed to Gloucester where they crossed the River Severn. Pressing on past Swindon, they finally joined the Great West Road for the last leg of the trip home.
They arrived a little after five o'clock, the journey having taken more than seven hours. Michael's mum immediately began fussing over her husband, who had done all the driving. Michael joined in, appreciating, in a way that he hadn't when he was younger, just how tiring that must have been. So much had changed, he reflected. The fact that he and his dad were starting to get along was just part of it.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
On Sunday afternoon, Michael locked up his bike near the entrance to Beechwood Park. He checked his watch. It was twenty-five past two. Lorenzo was due to arrive within the next five minutes. The seconds ticked slowly past. He was nervous, worried that the lad wouldn't show up, and concerned about how things would go if he did.
Suddenly, he saw Lorenzo pedalling towards him. His heart leapt. His boyfriend had come, just as he'd said he would.
"Hi!" Michael said, smiling. "Good to see you again! I've really missed you."
"I've missed you too," Lorenzo responded, dismounting his bike and locking it up next to Michael's. "Thanks for the postcard."
"I only sent one," Michael explained. "I didn't want people . . . you know."
"Yeah, you don't need to spell it out."
"How have things gone with looking after your dad?"
"It's been okay. He's not too demanding. We've done the shopping, the cooking, the washing and kept the place clean and tidy. That's about it, really. With you being away, I've done most of it, so this week it'll be Fran's turn."
"You and Fran get on really well, don't you?"
"Yeah, we've always looked out for each other. So how was the holiday?"
"It was okay, actually; better than I expected. I had my own room, which was good, and apart from meal times I could do more or less what I wanted, as long as I told Mum and Dad where I was going. But the really weird thing was that Dad actually started talking to me."
"I thought he more or less ignored you."
"He did. He doesn't like young children; that's what Mum told me. But now that I'm not a little boy anymore, well, he was alright."
"How did you feel about that?" Lorenzo demanded. "I think I'd have been quite angry."
"What good would that have done? It's better to have him being nice to me than for us to get into a fight. Anyway, that wouldn't have been fair on Mum. She'd have been caught in the middle."
"But you're his son. Surely he should have made the effort?"
"Yeah, but that's history. We can't change it. We've made a fresh start, that's all."
"You're far more understanding than me," Lorenzo said, frowning. "Anyway, tell me about the holiday. Did you meet anyone interesting?"
"Not really. After we'd been there for a few days, I was approached by another boy who said he'd seen that I was just with my mum and dad, and would I like for us to spend some time together."
"What was he like?"
"He was twelve, about five feet tall, not bad looking, quite bright too."
"He'd have just finished first-year then?"
"Well, he would have, but he's away at boarding school. He'll be there for another year."
"Now that is interesting!" Lorenzo said, grinning. "From what I've heard, all sorts of stuff goes on in those places!"
"Well, he didn't give me that impression. He was on holiday with his parents and his two sisters. As far as I could tell, all he wanted was a boy to go around with."
"I bet you could have got somewhere if you'd tried."
"I wasn't going to do that!" Michael said firmly. "Especially not with you waiting for me. Think what would have happened if it had gone wrong. I could have been right in the shit."
"You could have tested the waters a bit."
"And how would I have done that?"
"You know, let him see you peeing."
"Oh, he could have seen my cock if he'd wanted to. We went to the public bogs together a few times. He never showed the slightest interest."
"Oh! Well, I guess you were right then."
They arrived at the den. As soon as they were safely ensconced, they began to undress each other.
"I've missed you so much," Michael breathed.
"Same here!" Lorenzo responded. "I've been wanking myself stupid. Did you wank off a lot?"
"Yeah. I used one of the hotel towels as a cum-rag. They got collected and washed every day, so I don't think anyone would have noticed."
Within seconds, their tops were off and their shorts and underpants were around their ankles. They kissed sensuously, the perfect expression of their commitment to each other. Kissing Peter had been no more than a way of making them both extra horny, Michael considered. This was on a completely different level; it really meant something. After the kiss broke, they took turns sucking each other.
"Are you going to fuck me?" Lorenzo asked.
"Is that what you want?"
"Yeah! Will you lick me out first? I've really missed that."
Turning to face the bank, Lorenzo bent over. Kneeling behind, Michael began to work his tongue into his boyfriend's rosebud.
"Ooooh, that's so good!" Lorenzo whimpered.
As his tongue started to tire, Michael replaced it with a well-lubricated index finger, coming into contact with the fifteen-year old's prostate.
"Oh yeah!" the lad gasped, a bolt of electricity shooting through his penis. "Do it, Mike! Give me your cock!"
Having coated his prong with K-Y, Michael moved into position, thrusting it into the older boy's anus.
"Aaagghhh!" Lorenzo protested, two weeks abstinence having left his starfish much tighter than it had been.
"Wow!" Michael breathed. "You're really tight, just like the first time we did it. Just relax, you'll be okay."
"Yeah, just give me a moment or two."
As the pressure began to ease, Michael steadily pushed in deeper, until his dick was completely buried in Lorenzo's boy-tunnel.
"That's it!" he declared. "You've got it all now."
"Come on then! You know what I want!"
Michael began with short, gentle strokes, taking care not to move too far or too fast. Responding to Lorenzo's quiet moaning, he gradually increased both the pace and the length of his thrusts until he was giving it everything he had, his boyfriend's siren song driving him to ever greater efforts. Instinctively, he reached down, wrapping his fingers around the fifteen-year old's throbbing prick.
"Ohhhh!" Lorenzo groaned. "Ohhh! Oh, fuck!"
He bucked wildly, his whole body wracked by uncontrollable spasms. As his starfish clamped tight around Michael's cock, his penis swelled and jerked, several jets of cum squirting through the younger lad's fingers and into the bushes.
"Oh yeah!" Michael gasped, his own orgasm upon him. "My turn now! Ohhhhhh!!"
Holding onto the tops of Lorenzo's thighs, he unloaded his spunk deep inside the fifteen-year old's bum. It was perfect, Michael decided. However exciting sex with Peter had been, it simply didn't compare with that. After a lengthy pause, he gently withdrew. After getting dressed, they headed back towards the main path.
"How are you going to be fixed during the week?" Michael asked.
"Okay," Lorenzo responded. "Like I said, Fran owes me some time. I'll have to do some work, but as long as I tell her in advance, I'll be able to go out when I want. What have you got in mind?"
"You know we talked about going out on our bikes? I thought we could do that."
"Yeah, that'd be good. Where would we go?"
"I'm not sure yet. Like I told you, I've never really been anywhere. Before we split up, Chris and I were going to go to a few different places, but he'd have led the way; he's brilliant with maps. As it is, he's been cycling out to places with his new boyfriend. We could go with them."
"I'm not sure," Lorenzo said.
"Will you give it a try?" Michael asked. "I think it could really help. I remember you telling me that I'm the only person you've met who understands what it's like to be you. But we're not the only ones. I think it would be good for you to meet some other boys like us. It'd be someone else you could talk to without having to worry what you told them."
"What are they like?"
"I've never met Mark," Michael admitted, "but Chris is the nicest kid I've ever met. Like I told you, it was totally my fault that we split up."
"Okay," Lorenzo agreed. "I guess it can't do any harm."
"Right, I'll talk to Chris and let you know," Michael said.
The first part of his plan was about to fall into place. While he knew it was the right thing to do, he couldn't be sure it would work until they tried it.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
On Monday afternoon, Alex drove into town. Before Ingleby and his father had gone away on holiday, Alex had arranged to meet the lad outside the Kings Head. He was excited, eager to find out what had happened at this `camp' they'd been to. As he turned onto the street, the town hall clock struck two. Moments later, he was approaching the pub. There was no sign of the boy.
Somewhat irritated, he pulled the car to the side of the road, leaving the engine running. He hoped that at any moment, he would see the lad hurrying towards him. But he didn't, and with the minutes ticking past, he was becoming conspicuous.
He decided to drive around the block. A couple of minutes later, he was back. There was still no sign of Ingleby. After completing two more circuits, he gave up. The boy had let him down; it was as simple as that. Not only was he frustrated, he was worried too. Although he'd only met the lad a few times, he'd found him to be intelligent and reliable, not the sort of boy who would simply fail to show up.
The implication was that something had happened that had prevented Ingleby from keeping their appointment. There might be a perfectly innocent explanation, Alex reasoned, but deep down, he knew that was improbable. Apart from their sexual proclivities, Mr Ingleby and his son led well-ordered lives, which was why their activities had not been discovered. With that in mind, Alex considered it far more likely that something unfortunate had occurred, something that could have negative consequences for him. It was an uncomfortable thought.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
The following morning, Alex drove to school and made his way to the office. He was pleased to find that the registers for the previous school year were still in the rack, having not yet been replaced by new, blank ones. He took out 1-Green's register and made a note of Ingleby's address.
Armed with this information, he headed to the road where they lived. Driving slowly past the house, there were no signs of life, but that, Alex realised, didn't mean anything. He could hardly go up to the house and ring the bell. If someone did answer the door, he would have no explanation for being there. More frustrated than ever, he turned the car for home, wondering why he'd bothered.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Wednesday morning. Michael and Lorenzo were snuggled up on Michael's bed.
"It's all arranged for tomorrow," Michael said, rubbing noses with his boyfriend. "I'll get to yours for ten o'clock. It will only take us about ten minutes from there to get to Chris's house. Remember to bring a packed lunch and something to drink. According to the weather forecast, it's going to be pretty warm."
"So where are we going?" Lorenzo enquired.
"Carnington. It's an old manor house, roughly north of here, about sixteen miles away."
"We won't have to cycle through Reading will we?" Lorenzo queried, looking apprehensive.
"We won't go anywhere near Reading. We'll have to cross the Great West Road, but don't worry, Chris has got it all worked out."
Lorenzo didn't answer, eyeing Michael suspiciously.
"Stop worrying," Michael assured him, snuggling even closer. "It's going to be fun. Trust me."
Lorenzo melted into the younger boy's arms. He trusted Michael implicitly. If his boyfriend told him it was going to be okay he was sure it would be. They moved spontaneously into sexual foreplay. Despite his earlier reservations, Lorenzo was relaxed, enthusiastic and affectionate, taking Michael to heights that previously only Chris had managed.
"How d'you want to finish this?" Michael asked, looking right into the fifteen-year old's deep brown eyes.
"Any way you want!"
"Would you like to fuck me?"
"Sure! We haven't done that since you got back."
Having dragged his pillow to the middle of the bed, Michael covered it with an old towel. He lay face-down, the pillow under his boy-parts, his legs spread apart. Moments later, his boyfriend was working K-Y into his rosebud, carefully loosening his anal ring.
"Oooh, yeah!" Michael exhaled. "Come on, Reno; stick it in! I want to feel your cock up my bum."
After withdrawing his fingers, Lorenzo lowered himself into position, guiding his penis onto its target. Quickly penetrating the younger boy, he pushed steadily down until his prick was buried in Michael's bottom. Instinctively, he began to fuck.
Michael emitted a satisfied sigh, five-plus inches of steel-hard teen cock massaging his prostate. His boyfriend's heart pounded against his spine, the older boy's musky breath flooding his nostrils. Everything about it was perfect, Michael considered, Lorenzo's penis big enough to stimulate him beautifully, but not so big as to cause him any pain, and with the lad weighing only one hundred and twenty-five pounds, having him lying directly on top was wonderfully intense, but caused him no discomfort at all.
"Ohhhh!" he groaned, "I'm going to cum!"
As his starfish went into spasm around Lorenzo's thrusting prick, his cock swelled and jerked, several ropes of creamy spunk spurting onto the towel. Lorenzo's reaction was instant.
"Oh yeah!" he gasped. "My turn now!"
Gripping Michael's shoulders, he thrust his dick right in before unloading his teen-cum into the thirteen-year old's bottom. With his orgasm finally at an end, he lay as he was, his heart thumping in his chest. This, his fifth fuck, had been the best by far, not only because he'd been completely in control, or even because he'd had an incredible orgasm, but mainly because he'd turned Michael on more than he ever had. No feeling could be better than that.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
With lunchtime approaching, the boys cycled to Lorenzo's house. Once again, Fran was busy in the kitchen.
"Hello!" she said brightly. "I'm glad you could come."
"I wouldn't have missed it," Michael told her. "Thanks for inviting me,"
"I need to go to the loo," Lorenzo announced, leaving his sister with Michael.
"I like you being Lorenzo's friend," she said quietly, smiling. "He's been much calmer and happier since you've been around."
"Thanks," Michael responded, not sure what else to say. Inside, he was glowing. He'd taken to Francesca the first time they'd met. He didn't know if she had any idea how close he and her brother actually were. He guessed she probably didn't. But she'd noticed how much happier Lorenzo was, and that was good enough. She clearly cared a great deal about her older brother, and in Michael's eyes, that made her very special indeed.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
As forecast, the next morning was warm and sunny, with hardly a cloud to be seen. Michael arrived at Lorenzo's house just before ten.
"Have you got everything?" he asked, as the lad brought his bike out from the back garden.
"I think so," Lorenzo responded, sounding more than a little nervous.
They set off towards Chris's house. In truth, Michael was nervous too. Sixteen miles each way was much further than he'd ever cycled before. Chris had assured him that they wouldn't go too fast, but he couldn't be sure about it. And what would happen if Chris or Mark didn't like Lorenzo? That could make things very awkward. As soon as they turned into the road where Chris lived, Michael spotted the boys waiting for them.
"Hi Chris!" he said brightly. "I hope we haven't kept you waiting. This is Lorenzo."
"Hi Lorenzo!" Chris said, smiling and sticking out a hand. "Good to meet you!"
"Good to meet you, too!" Lorenzo responded, accepting the handshake.
"And this is Mark," Chris went on.
"Hi guys!" Mark said, shaking hands with both Lorenzo and Michael. "Good to meet you both. Are we ready, then?"
"Sure!" Chris answered, bubbling with his usual enthusiasm. "It's a fantastic day. Let's make the most of it!"
As they began their journey, Lorenzo was almost speechless. Not only were Mark and Chris much friendlier than he'd expected, they were both very good-looking; Chris dark like he was, and about the same height, but slimmer; Mark blond and taller, like Michael, but also very slim. But best of all, they liked boys just as he did. After spending nearly two years feeling completely isolated, he could hardly believe it.
True to his word, Chris set a steady pace, with Mark bringing up the rear to ensure that the group stayed together. It was that wonderfully generous spirit that Chris had always had, Michael reflected. Both he and Lorenzo found it surprisingly comfortable, bowling along, enjoying the sunshine and the light summer breeze, prosperous outer suburbs giving way to open country and pretty villages. After about an hour, they stopped for a drink.
"Are you okay?" Michael asked quietly, turning to his boyfriend.
"Yeah! This is super!" Lorenzo enthused. "I love cycling out to places, but I couldn't have done this. I'd have got lost. Chris, how do you know where to go?"
"Planned it out last night," Chris said casually. "It's not that hard. And I've got the map in my saddle-bag if I'm not sure."
"You're cool!" Lorenzo said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
After a few minutes, they set off again, with Chris leading the way just as he had before. Michael was delighted. Lorenzo seemed to be fitting in really well, which was exactly why they'd come. He knew it was only a small step. `But we had to start somewhere,' he told himself. `And it seems to be working.'
They arrived at Carnington just before midday. After locking up their bikes, they paid the entrance fee and made their way inside.
"Right!" Chris said, calling the group together. "House first or gardens first?"
"What do you think?" Michael asked.
"Well, it's a bit early for lunch," Chris said thoughtfully. "I suggest we do the tour of the house now. Afterwards, we can collect our food and go and find somewhere to eat, maybe down by the river. That should leave us at least an hour to do as we want before we need to head back home."
With the other boys nodding their agreement, they headed towards the house, preparing to join the guided tour that was due to begin at 12:15. As they waited, they were approached by a man in a uniform similar to that of a hotel concierge.
"Have you boys not got parents with you?" he asked.
"No, we're here on our own," Chris informed him.
"I see," the man said, eyeing them suspiciously. "I hope you're not expecting to run around."
"Of course not," Chris said firmly. "We want to see the furniture and the artworks. That's why we paid the extra to go into the house."
"So how old are you?" the man demanded.
"Michael and I are thirteen, Mark's fourteen and Lorenzo's fifteen," Chris responded.
"And who's the youngest?"
"Well, I wouldn't have thought that, not the way you talk," the man said, looking perplexed. "We don't usually let in groups of kids unless they've got adults with them, but you seem alright. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Remember what I said, mind!"
As the man strode away, Lorenzo was bowled over by the way Chris had handled the situation. He knew that he'd have got into an argument and not been allowed to go in. But Chris had talked so confidently and stayed so calm. Lorenzo admired the lad enormously.
A few minutes later, the tour began. The artworks, including many portraits of the people who'd lived there, were spectacular, and the architecture, furniture and decoration simply magnificent. Lorenzo in particular had never been anywhere like it. He was mesmerised.
For his part, Chris reflected on how different the lives of people who lived in such houses were from those of ordinary people. The house had been in private hands until the 1930s when it had been given to the National Trust. All sorts of famous people had visited it, attending the lavish parties for which these grand country houses were noted.
With the tour completed, the boys collected their food and strolled across the extensive grounds, enjoying the warm August sunshine. After around ten minutes, they reached an open grassy area by the riverbank. It was the perfect spot.
"How about here?" Chris suggested.
As they were all getting hungry, they immediately sat down and began to eat; sandwiches, fruit and slices of cake. Before long, they'd all finished.
"What are we going to do now?" Michael asked.
"Nothing too energetic," Chris replied, smiling. "We've got to cycle home yet."
"When did you realise you liked boys?" Mark asked, turning to Lorenzo.
"When I was in second year," Lorenzo answered. "I didn't really understand it at first."
"That sounds like me," Mark said, nodding. "Did you get to do anything?"
"I wanked off with one of my mates."
"Same here. But for him it was just a bit of fun. I could tell he wasn't serious about it the way I was."
"Yeah, that's how it was with me and Luke," Lorenzo said. "Then, at the end of second year, I went to Italy with my mum and my sister for three weeks. I've got this cousin, Sandro. He's a few months older than me and really good looking. He got me to suck him off."
"Did he suck you off?" Mark asked.
"No, he wouldn't. He gave me a wank; that was it. I didn't care. I'd have done anything he wanted. But that's when I knew; I mean, really knew. When we got back to school, I was terrified that the other boys would find out. There's this kid in my form who's a right little fairy. Everyone knows he's queer. I was petrified that the other lads would think I was like him."
"Oh, I get all of that," Mark said, smiling. "When I started third year, the mate I'd had a few wank sessions with didn't want to do it anymore. My head was completely scrambled. It was okay when I'd got plenty to do, like schoolwork or running. But in between, sex was all I could think about. I'm in the cross-country team, so I'd see the other boys in the showers. Some of them are pretty cute. I didn't know where to put myself."
"Third year was a nightmare," Lorenzo said, looking down at his feet. "I got into loads of trouble, my schoolwork went to pieces and I lost all my friends. It's only since I met Mike that I've started to get myself sorted out. It's hard though. My form master's Sutherland. He barks at me even when I haven't done anything. I hate it!"
"Meeting Chris was the turning point for me too," Mark said gently. "It was just before Easter. He turned up to run in this cross-country relay. He'd never raced before. Well, Daniels put him on the last leg. He ran brilliantly; picked up lots of places. Anyway, as they came towards the finish, one team was a long way in front, but the next three teams were together. Well, Chris produced this killer sprint, so our boys got the silver medals. Well, as you can imagine, I fancied him like crazy, so after the race, I spoke to him, told him how well he'd run. I asked if he'd like to come and train with us. Fortunately, he said yes."
"And the rest, as they say, is history," Michael said, giving his friends a wry smile.
"I was somewhat influenced by having this stunning-looking boy ask me if I'd like to go running with him," Chris admitted. "I was meant to be doing just one race. I'd never considered training with the team. We never did cross-country at junior school, so when it came to the first-year championship, I had no idea how I'd do. Well, I finished sixth. Afterwards, Needham nearly bit my head off, demanding to know why I wasn't in the cross-country team. I was really upset about it."
"Needham's an arsehole!" Lorenzo snarled. "When we were in first and second year he always used to stare at us when we came out of the showers. Fucking perv!"
"Did you know he was married?" Chris asked. "He's got two boys. They go to the school where Dad teaches. One's the same age as Mark, the other's just finished first year."
"Fuck!" Lorenzo responded. "I wonder what he gets them doing?"
"Dunno," Chris said absently. "May just look at them like he does with us. Anyway, a couple of weeks later Dad went to parents' evening and chewed Needham's ears off. Anyway, when it came to the summer, Needham wanted me to run in some track races, only this time he asked me properly. It was only three races after school, so I said I'd do it. Well, I did okay, even though I hadn't done any training."
"What he means is that he won all three races," Michael interjected.
"When we started second year, I still didn't want to train with the cross-country squad," Chris continued. "Then it came to the school championship. I won it. The next day, Mr Daniels asked me if I'd run in this relay race. I was a bit reluctant at first, but the other lads in the team asked me as well, so I said okay. That's about it, really. You've heard the rest."
"It's made a huge difference," Mark said, smiling appreciatively. "Suddenly, I had someone I could be completely open with. My schoolwork's come on by leaps and bounds since I've been with Chris."
"It's not all one-way," Chris said, grinning back. "I've improved a lot too."
"Do your Mum and Dad know about you and Chris?" Lorenzo asked, looking Mark right in the eye.
"I don't think they have any idea," Mark admitted. "As far as they know, Chris is just a friend that I run with and study with. Of course, they're delighted with how well I'm doing at school, so it's not hard to keep it hidden."
"I wouldn't dare let my parents find out," Lorenzo said, looking at his feet again. "They'd go nuts."
"My mum and dad know," Chris announced. "Dad's even talked to me about it. But I'm really lucky. My parents are one in a million. All they want is for me to be happy and to be the best me I can be. Dad says he fought in the war so that people would have the right to be themselves." He turned to Lorenzo. "You should come and talk to him sometime."
"Yeah, . . . er, thanks!" Lorenzo stammered, alarmed by the prospect of discussing sex with an adult.
"You don't have to worry," Mark assured him. "He's been super, hasn't he Chris?"
Lorenzo found it hard to take it all in. Chris and Mark really understood what he'd been through. Mark in particular had had much the same experiences. Michael had been right. It wasn't just the two of them. He'd just made some new friends that he could talk to without having to pretend. It felt as though he'd just emerged from a long, dark tunnel, and that, he decided, made it the best day of his life.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was twenty to five when Michael and Lorenzo got back to Michael's house. As soon as they'd locked up their bikes, Michael led the way to his bedroom. Within a matter of seconds, they were as naked as jaybirds.
"Thanks for today," Lorenzo whispered, drawing Michael close. "It's been wonderful. Meeting Chris and Mark, well, it felt like I'd turned a corner."
"You and Mark seemed to get on really well."
"Yeah. He's been through pretty much the same shit as I have, only he dealt with it a lot better than I did."
"He didn't have all the other problems you've had to face."
"And he hasn't got what Dad calls my Italian temperament."
"Yeah, well we can work on that," Michael said, looking his boyfriend right in the eye.
"Mark's hot, isn't he?" Lorenzo said, changing the subject.
"Naughty!" Michael chided, giving the lad a mischievous grin.
"Oh, I was just saying I think he's hot," Lorenzo responded. "I wouldn't dream of trying anything. Mark and Chris are so perfect together; I'd stand no chance. Anyway, I've got you, haven't I?"
"So what do you want now?"
"I want you to fuck me."
"Our usual way," Michael queried. "With you on your back?"
"Yeah! Make love to me."
"Come on then. Let's do it!"
And so they did, their love-making everything either of them could have asked for, the intensity right off the scale. It was the perfect end to a wonderful day.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Sunday afternoon. Exiting the den, Michael and Lorenzo headed towards the main path. Having spent the previous half hour having wonderful, intense, uninhibited sex, they felt at peace with the world.
"What's happening tomorrow?" Lorenzo enquired. "It's the bank holiday."
"I'd like you to come over to mine anyway," Michael responded. "I want you to meet my parents, well, Mum anyway."
"They won't start asking awkward questions, will they?" Lorenzo queried, looking less than enthusiastic.
"I wouldn't think so," Michael said. "But Mum always likes to meet my friends. If she found out I had a friend she hasn't met and I haven't even mentioned, she'd want to know why. That would not be good. Anyway, I've met your parents, haven't I? That went okay."
"Yes, but they don't bother. Will your dad be there?"
"Probably, but he definitely won't ask any difficult questions. He'll either talk to you quite normally like he's started doing with me, or he'll completely ignore you. That was the one really weird thing when we were on holiday. He never said one word to Peter, but I guess he thought of him as being a little boy. But I'm not and neither are you."
"They won't ask how old I am, will they?" Lorenzo probed.
"As I'm taller than you, I wouldn't have thought that was very likely," Michael assured him. "If they do, just tell the truth. Afterwards, Mum will want to know how we met. I'll tell her that we met a few weeks ago when I was out on my bike. We got chatting. Then we stopped off at your place and I found out that you like reading a lot of the same stuff that I enjoy."
"Do you always think of everything?" Lorenzo said, giving Michael a wry grin.
"I try to," Michael answered. "I mean, we have to keep ourselves safe."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Lorenzo's meeting with Michael's parents was uneventful. Lorenzo was polite and well-spoken. Although he admitted to struggling with the science subjects, he did nothing that caused any alarm bells to sound. The following morning, with Michael's parents back at work, the boys resumed their normal routine.
"Chris phoned a bit earlier," Michael said as they snuggled up on the bed. "After we've finished, we're invited over to Mark's place. It's okay, I know where it is. I said we'd be there about quarter past eleven."
"Will that be okay?"
"Yes, of course. Don't worry, we won't be interrupting anything. I guess they'll deal with that before we get there."
"So is Mark an only child, then?"
"No, he's got an older sister, but she's out at work."
"Okay, fine. I'll get to chat to Mark again."
"Yeah, and Chris is planning another cycle ride. He wants to ask us about it."
"Okay, but I have to be home for one o'clock. This afternoon, I've got to go to the airport to meet Mum, help carry her luggage, you know."
"I'll come with you if you like."
"No thanks. There'll be lots of stuff Mum will want to tell me, you know, family stuff. If you're there, she'll talk in Italian. It'd be embarrassing."
"Fair enough. So what d'you want now?"
"Whatever you like."
"How d'you fancy fucking me again?" Michael asked.
"A lot!" Lorenzo told him.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Over at Mark's house, the boys settled themselves into the large front lounge. Although Chris sat with Mark and Michael with Lorenzo, the rapport between Mark and Lorenzo was remarkable. While the other two listened, they talked about their experience of discovering that they liked boys.
Lorenzo was spellbound. Mark had been through exactly the same doubts and confusion as he had, but amazingly, it seemed that he'd remained quite calm about it. Before meeting Michael, Lorenzo had found it hard to stay calm about anything. `Mark didn't screw things up the way I did,' he told himself. "I need to learn from him and Chris."
"You mentioned you were planning another cycle ride," Michael said, taking advantage of a pause in the conversation.
"Yes," Chris confirmed. "I thought we could go to Welham Court; it's near Basingstoke. The house is fairly small, but the gardens sound fascinating, and it'll be a really nice ride."
"How far is it?"
"About eighteen miles."
"Okay, when were you thinking of?"
"Will Friday be okay?"
The boys nodded their agreement.
"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?" Chris asked, turning to Lorenzo.
"Nothing much, why?"
"Come over to mine," Chris said. "You can meet my dad."
Lorenzo looked at Chris as though the lad had suggested that he should try extracting his own teeth.
"Stop worrying!" Mark urged. "I was a bit nervous the first time, but it was really good. He's been super with me and Chris. He understands how hard it is for people like us."
Lorenzo took a deep breath. He'd just told himself that he needed to learn from Mark and Chris. This would be where it started.
"Okay," he agreed. "It'll be okay if Michael comes too, won't it?"
"Sorry!" Chris said, smiling. "That's what I meant. Of course we want Michael to be there."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Wednesday morning. Just after ten o'clock, the doorbell rang. Michael hurried down the stairs to answer it.
"How did it go yesterday?" he asked, welcoming Lorenzo inside, "meeting your Mum at the airport."
"Oh, it was alright," Lorenzo replied guardedly.
"You sound very subdued," Michael said. "Is everything okay?"
"While Mum was in Italy, she decided to keep an eye on Sandro, you know, when he thought there was nobody watching him. Mum knows Fran and I don't tell lies. She wanted to see for herself. Well, she soon found out what he's like, so she told Sandro's dad, my Uncle Gaetano. She said Sandro would bring disgrace on the family if he got a girl pregnant. Uncle Gaetano was really angry. He took off his belt and gave Sandro a beating."
"You don't sound too happy about it."
"I'm not. I'm not saying he didn't deserve it, but it's not nice, is it? Uncle Gaetano's built like an ox. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."
"Come upstairs," Michael said gently. "I'll help you to feel better."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
After lunch, Michael and Lorenzo cycled to Chris's house. They arrived at half past two.
"Don't look so worried," Michael said gently as they locked their bikes. "Mr Newton's really nice."
A couple of minutes later, the four boys were ensconced in the Newtons' front room.
"I'll go and tell Dad that we're all here," Chris said, smiling.
After a few seconds, he returned, his father following behind.
"Good afternoon, boys!" Mr Newton said. "Good to see you all. You must be Lorenzo," he added, turning towards the dark-haired boy. "I'm pleased you decided to come. I know this isn't easy."
"Thanks," Lorenzo said, almost in a whisper.
"Now we all know why we're here," Mr Newton went on, "so let's not beat about the bush. Lorenzo, I believe you're aware that Chris and Michael were together for a while?"
"Good! That gets that out of the way. I had my suspicions at the time. I never said anything because it seemed like ordinary boys' growing up stuff. Then Chris met Mark. I knew straightaway that this was much more serious, so I kept my eyes open. What I observed was that Chris was the happiest he's ever been, and working better than ever. Now, as a conscientious parent, why would I object to that?"
"You wouldn't," Lorenzo said.
"As far as I'm concerned, who Chris loves is a matter for him, and as long as nobody gets hurt, what Chris and Mark choose to do together is for them to decide. Unfortunately, most parents don't see things that way, and it's definitely not what the law says. But that will change. A few years ago, the government commissioned a report into the matter. It's called the Wolfenden Report. It was published in 1957. It recommended a change in the law to make it legal for consenting adults to have homosexual sex in private. Well, nothing's happened yet, but pressure is growing. I'm confident that by the time you boys are young adults, it will be legal for you to have sex with each other."
He paused for a moment, looking around at the boys.
"Okay," he continued. "In the meantime, discretion is important. If you think your parents won't understand, don't tell them. If they get concerned that you're not showing any interest in girls, tell them you're too busy with your schoolwork. Your parents all want you to do well at school so it's the perfect excuse."
"I still think my mum will expect me to start going out with girls," Lorenzo interjected.
"Then you'll have to fob her off as best you can," Mr Newton advised. "You also need to be very careful about saying anything to your other friends. You might want to say something to a boy you're pretty close to, someone you think you can trust. But be careful; that can go badly wrong. Unless you're sure, my advice would be not to say anything." He paused for a second. "I understand that you've been through a difficult time coming to terms with things, not putting enough effort into your studies, that sort of thing?"
"Yes. I don't think I dealt with it very well."
"Well, it can be difficult, and you're definitely not the first to react like that," Mr Newton countered. "But now you're with Michael, I believe you're trying to put things right?"
"Yes, but it's not going to be easy."
"No, it isn't. But remember you've got friends here who want you to succeed. We'll support you when you need it."
A little before four o'clock, Lorenzo and Michael said their goodbyes and headed back to Michael's house.
"Do you feel a bit more confident now?" Michael asked as they made their way inside.
"A bit," Lorenzo said guardedly.
Michael could see that there was something still bothering the lad. He was on the point of asking what it was, but decided to leave it. He'd deal with it later.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
It was Thursday morning. At quarter to eleven, Alex got into the car and drove to school. Having parked the car, he made his way inside. As he'd expected, the place was thronged with boys from the Upper Sixth, there to collect their A-level results.
"Hi, Sir!" a lad from his pure maths group greeted, smiling broadly. "I got an A!"
"Well done!" Alex congratulated. "That's excellent!"
"I couldn't have done it without you, sir!" the teenager gushed. "You're the best!"
"Well, you've done yourself proud. How did your other subjects go?"
"I got B's in physics and chemistry, sir, and a C in General Studies."
"I take it that'll be enough to get you where you want to go?"
"Yes, sir. I'll be going to Bristol to do civil engineering."
"Looking forward to it?"
"Yes, sir. I can't wait!"
Moving on, Alex headed to the Deputy Head's room. While Headmaster Mr Cope gave the boys their results individually, his deputy took charge of the summary sheet where all the results were displayed.
"Good morning!" Neville Dryden greeted as Alex stepped into the man's office. "I knew you'd be here. Your group all did pretty well. I'll let you look for yourself."
Alex checked the sheet. Of his group of twelve, five had achieve A-grades, three B-grades, and two C-grades. Even the two weakest students, boys that Alex had had to push and prod, had managed D-grades. Everyone had passed, most with the grades they needed to get into top universities. Alex was bathed in a warm glow. All the work he'd put in had paid off. It was exactly what he'd hoped for.
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
By ten to eleven the next morning, Alex had finished his tutorial with Bradshaw. Since the lad returned from holiday, they'd been working on differentiation. Bradshaw had taken to it like a duck to water, just as he had with everything else they'd encountered, with the lad now able to tackle exam-standard questions quite comfortably.
There was no doubt that Bradshaw was an exceptional student, Alex reflected, but working with the lad had become less rewarding than it had been initially. When he first started at Woodchurch, Bradshaw did not realise that he was better than anyone else, nor had he much idea what mathematics was about. Recently, however, he had become so self-reliant that all Alex had needed to do was to point the lad in the right direction and leave him to get on with it. While he still regarded himself as the youngster's mentor, in the previous couple of months he'd taught the boy hardly anything.
He allowed his hand to stray onto Bradshaw's thigh. Since the end of the football season, the boy had definitely grown. Though still a fraction under five feet, he was noticeably taller and his thighs had acquired some more muscle. In addition, his voice had begun to break and his boy-parts were developing nicely; his cock both longer and thicker than it had been a few months earlier, his balls hanging somewhat lower.
"Sir," Bradshaw asked. "Pennington told me that sometimes you do it out in the woods next to Beechwood Park."
"Yes, that was his idea. About a year ago he found this place where he could hide himself away."
"Wow! I bet it's really exciting, fucking him out there."
"Yes, it definitely has something about it, only in the warm weather though."
"Could we go there, sir?"
"Do you mean now?"
"Yes, sir. It's really warm today. Come on, sir. It'll be fun."
Alex considered for a moment. He'd planned to have the lad in the comfort of his bedroom, just as he always did, but if a trip out into the woods was what Bradshaw wanted, well, it couldn't do any harm, could it? And having sex outdoors always had that added frisson of excitement. He found his penis stiffening rapidly just at the thought of it.
"Okay then. We'll go in the car. I'll bring you back here afterwards."
0 o 0 o 0 o 0
Fifteen minutes later they were in Beechwood Park. After passing through the gate into the woods, Alex led the way off the main path, guiding the way between the bushes to Pennington's hiding place.
"Wow, sir!" Bradshaw said, grinning. "This place is super! Nobody'll find us here."
"We won't be able to come here at weekends," Alex cautioned. "Whitney knows where it is. I think he and his new boyfriend might be using it."
"Who's that, sir?"
"That's not for me to say. I don't think you'd know him in any case."
For a moment, they stood eyeing each other.
"Are you okay then?" Alex asked.
"Sir!" Bradshaw acknowledged.
Having unfastened the clip at the top of the boy's khaki shorts and pulled down the zip, Alex eased them off the youngster's hips, causing them to fall around the lad's ankles. As Bradshaw pulled up his t-shirt, Alex licked his lips, admiring the hard bulge at the front of the boy's skimpy briefs. Kneeling down, he quickly skinned them down the twelve-year old's legs, exposing the youngster's rampant prick. Leaning forwards, he took it fully into his mouth. He sucked it right down to the root, his tongue working its magic on the small, shiny head.
Savouring the exquisite sensations, Bradshaw ran his fingers through his mentor's hair. A hand slid between his legs, expert fingers massaging his perineum. As his prick began to tingle, he eased himself away.
Without a word being spoken, they swapped places. Within a matter of seconds, Alex's trousers and underpants were at his feet. Holding the base of his teacher's cock, his fingers on top, his thumb beneath, Bradshaw slowly devoured the man's rampant appendage. Gradually, he worked his way down until his top lip was touching his index finger.
"Oooohh!" Alex cooed. "You've become quite an expert at this, haven't you?"
Taking this as a signal, Bradshaw let him go. Getting to his feet, he shuffled around. With his feet as far apart as his shorts would allow, he bent over, resting his forearms on the top of the bank. Kneeling down again, Alex set to work on the youngster's rosebud, working his tongue over it until it pushed inside.
"Ooooh, sir!" Bradshaw purred, the added excitement of being violated out under the dappled sunlight everything he'd hoped it would be.
Moments later, his mentor's tongue was replaced by the man's well-lubricated finger, which slid steadily right into him. It grazed his prostate, making his prick twitch wildly.
"Are you ready?" Alex enquired.
"Sir!" Bradshaw acknowledged.
The finger steadily withdrew. After a couple of seconds, his teacher's penis was pressing against his boy-hole. Relaxing as much as he could, he allowed it inside. It advanced steadily, reaming him, stimulating him, projecting him into a world of unbridled sensual pleasure. Within half a minute, he'd taken the whole thing, the man's pubic hair brushing his bottom.
After a short pause, Alex partially withdrew, leaving only his cockhead inside. Immediately, he thrust back in, sensing every ridge and contour of the youngster's boy-tunnel. There would be no holding back. It was clear that the lad had wanted to up the ante; it was why they'd left the comfort of the flat. He was not going to disappoint. Within a few strokes, he hit his stride, in, out, in, out, fucking the boy unmercifully.
Bradshaw scarcely knew where he was. His entire world consisted of his mentor's hands holding his thighs while the man's appendage pounded into him. There simply wasn't anything else.
"Sir!" he begged. "Play with my cock! Please!"
Sensing that they were both very close to orgasm, Alex reached down. Wrapping his fingers around the twelve-year old's throbbing spike, he gently wanked the lad. With absolutely no warning, Bradshaw bucked violently.
"Aaarrgghhh!" he groaned.
Everything dissolved into a blur: Bradshaw's prick swelling and jerking, the lad's boy-juice shooting hard into the bushes, the youngster's starfish clamping tight around his mentor's cock, rope after rope of Alex's spunk spurting into the boy's rectum. It ended as abruptly as it had begun, the only sounds, those of laboured breathing.
With his hands still around Bradshaw's thighs, Alex regained his composure. Taking a deep breath, he carefully pulled out. There was something intense and primal about fucking a boy while surrounded by nature and warmed by the summer sun. Bradshaw had clearly felt it too; the lad having been even hornier than he usually was. It had been a wonderful fuck. On another hot sunny day, Alex decided, they'd make this trip again.