THE HUNTING SEASON

By Pink Panther

Hi everybody! As I'm currently enjoying rather more writing time than usual, I'm pleased to be able to put this out only two weeks after chapter 64. The story is moving on. While Michael's relationship with Lorenzo continues to develop, Alex tries to continue as he has before. But will he be able to? As always, feedback is very welcome. Please send your comments to achimedes294@hushmail.com and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Please may I remind you that Nifty relies on readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. Please give generously!

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

September 1961

On Tuesday lunchtime, Alex sat down in the staffroom with assistant games master Gerry Forbes. Although Alex was disappointed that he was no longer coaching the football team that he'd taken the previous year, with Bradshaw, Monk, Pennington and the others, that had been Richard Needham's decision, and Alex knew why it had happened. The good news was that their new coach, Gerry, wanted to build on what Alex had started.

"Now that I've got to know them a bit," Gerry said, smiling, "I thought it might be useful to compare notes."

"That's fine," Alex responded. "I still want to see them do well."

"I have to say they're much more disciplined than most teams of that age," Gerry went on. "Especially the defenders; they actually know where they're supposed to be."

"At first, I thought I'd made a mistake, trying to get the defence to work as a unit," Alex admitted. "It took them ages to get used to it. All they wanted to do was to run around chasing the ball. But I think it paid off in the long run."

"Definitely!" Gerry agreed. "They're far more aware of where everybody is than boys that age usually are."

Over the next twenty minutes, Alex and Gerry talked about tactics and the strengths and weaknesses of the individual players. It was all very positive.

"I'm considering letting Thorpe run for the cross-country team," Gerry suggested, "on the understanding that I can call on him if we really need him. Otherwise he could spend the entire season without getting the chance to represent the school."

"That sounds like a good idea," Alex agreed. "Thorpe's attitude is superb. You can rely on him to give you one hundred per cent if you do need to use him."

As the meeting broke up, Alex was very happy. Much as he would have liked to have kept working with what was now the under-13 team, at least he had the satisfaction of knowing that they were in good hands.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The bell sounded to signal the start of Thursday's lunchbreak.

"Okay, gentlemen!" Alex announced, dismissing his fourth-year top set. "Complete the exercise for homework. Now put your things away and make your way out quietly!"

As the boys left the room, he sank into his chair. He was exhausted. The period had simply flown past. Although he knew it was a privilege to be entrusted with such an able class, the pace at which they were required to work made it very demanding. Without doubt, it was the greatest pressure he'd experienced. Added to that, the volume of marking that he had to do was far greater than for any other class he'd taken.

The class was made up of thirty-two boys, of whom around twelve found the work easy. The others were having to work very hard in order to keep up. Of those, most were coping well, but there were a few who were struggling at least some of the time. Alex found himself having to provide extra tuition to make sure that nobody was left behind.

To add to the pressure, expectation was extremely high. The current arrangements had been in place for three years, George Brett having taken the fourth-year top set twice and Neil Fleming once. During that time, every boy had passed the O-level exam, almost half of them achieving either grade 1 or grade 2. Maintaining that standard was not going to be easy.

Two years earlier, when Alex had been saddled with 3-Blue, who were in very poor shape, there had been no such benchmark. As he now realised, he could have achieved considerably less than he did; it would still have been counted as a success. The current situation was the complete opposite. When it came to getting the best out of the most able boys, George and Neil were a very difficult act to follow.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

On Saturday afternoon, Alex took Pennington to Mr Smith's house, where they were joined by Van Kerkstraat. Although they'd never met before, the boys took to each other immediately. As a result, the afternoon's activities went far better than Alex had expected. Being entertained by two such beautiful pre-teens would have been special in any case. The fact that Pennington and Van Kerkstraat obviously loved having sex with each other made the show that they put on exceptionally erotic.

And it didn't stop there. Afterwards, Alex found Van Kerkstraat unusually eager to be fucked for a second time, while Pennington, who had always been rather wary of Mr Smith's large appendage, could hardly wait to have it buried in his bottom. This, Alex and Gordon agreed, was a combination that they'd repeat as often as circumstances permitted.

It was now Sunday. Alex had just finished his tutorial with Bradshaw.

"Who's this new kid Mr Brown's bringing?" the boy enquired.

"His name's Fairchild," Alex said, sensuously massaging his protégé's thigh. "He's ten. All I know is that before the end of last term, Mr Brown caught Arrowsmith fucking him. Arrowsmith got in trouble for that. Fairchild was only in second year at the time, and nobody is allowed to touch the first and second year boys. But Mr Brown seems to think that Fairchild was a more than willing participant."

"Horny, then?" Bradshaw said, licking his lips.

In one way he found it odd. He'd been nearly twelve before he discovered the pleasures of sexual contact, and he'd only found out then because of the attention that Mr Faulkner was giving him. At Fairchild's age, he'd been completely clueless. But he wasn't complaining. The thought of meeting a sexy ten-year old who liked taking it up his bum was causing his penis to throb in his underpants.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Alex went to answer it, returning with Mr Brown and Fairchild. With an unruly mop of fair curls, sparkling blue eyes and an engaging smile, the lad was aptly named. Physically, he was a complete contrast with Long. Standing only four feet three, he was quite small for his age, but stockily built, his muscular thighs nicely filling out his grey school shorts. His bottom, though not large, was beautifully rounded.

Bradshaw could hardly wait to get started. After the usual pleasantries, they moved to the bedroom. As always when Mr Brown came to visit, Bradshaw stood in front of the young choirmaster, who was seated on the bed. He allowed the man to undress him. Finally, his briefs were skinned down his legs.

"This has grown since the last time I saw it," Mr Brown purred, fondling the twelve-year old's erect penis. "I bet you're looking forward to stuffing it into Fairchild's boy-hole!"

"Yes, sir."

"And I'm looking forward to watching you," Mr Brown added, immediately devouring the boy's hairless cock.

Bradshaw looked across at Fairchild, who was being sucked by Mr White. As he watched, the youngster's prick popped out of the man's mouth. It was a little smaller than Van Kerkstraat's, Bradshaw noted. That seemed reasonable as the boy himself was much smaller. At that moment, Mr Brown's hand slid between his legs, the man's finger quickly locating his rosebud. Flexing his knees, Bradshaw sat back and relaxed, allowing it to slide into him.

"Okay," Mr Brown said, removing his finger and releasing Bradshaw's glistening cock. "You know what to do."

Obediently, Bradshaw knelt on the floor. Unzipping the choirmaster's fly, he reached in to extricate the man's five-inch prong. Having moistened his lips, he leant forward, took it into his mouth and began to suck, the choirmaster's fingers gently stroking his hair.

"Mr Brown," Alex announced a minute or so later. "I think these boys are ready now."

Immediately, Bradshaw got to his feet. As Mr Brown vacated his place on the bed, the two youngsters dived onto it, snuggling up eagerly. Leaning in, Bradshaw pressed his lips against Fairchild's.

"Open your mouth," he urged.

Fairchild complied instantly. Within seconds, the two preteens were writhing around on the bed, kissing as though their lives depended on it.

"I love your cock!" Fairchild whispered, easing himself away. "You are going to fuck me, aren't you?"

"Sure! Mr White told me you took Arrowsmith's before the summer holiday."

"Yeah! That was pretty cool. Now I want yours. I've not been getting that much. Jessop can't cum yet, so during the week there's only Mr Brown to look after all three of us."

Bradshaw stifled a giggle. As his contemporary Jessop wasn't making spunk yet, lucky Mr Brown had three horny boys to satisfy, and it seemed that Fairchild wanted more.

"Let's do a sixty-nine first," he suggested.

They moved into position. Bradshaw sucked in air. Despite his tender years, Fairchild was an expert cock-sucker. `When did he learn to do that?' he wondered. And that was not all. Although the smallest he'd encountered, Fairchild's penis was hot and unbelievably hard. Sucking it was an unbridled pleasure.

After lubricating his first two fingers, Bradshaw slid his hand over the ten-year old's bottom. Alighting on the lad's starfish, he inserted his middle digit. Finding that it met little resistance, he pushed his index finger in too. They were almost ready.

As Fairchild got onto all-fours, Bradshaw made a snap decision. Unlike the previous week, he hadn't asked permission, but he somehow sensed that Fairchild wouldn't object. Grabbing one of the pillows, he placed it below the younger lad's mid-section.

"Lie down, legs apart," he instructed.

Fairchild didn't hesitate, dropping down so that the pillow was under his hips. Moments later, Bradshaw's cock speared into him. He was ecstatic. It was the first time he'd been fucked in his favourite position since he'd been back at school.

"Oh yes!" he breathed. "Come on! You know what I want!"

Bradshaw required no second bidding. Within a matter of seconds, he was fucking the ten-year old's hot, tight tunnel even more ferociously than he had with Van Kerkstraat the week before.

Alex watched intently, his eyes glued to the action. Bradshaw was giving Fairchild's bottom a severe pounding, and the younger boy was enjoying every second of it. As Fairchild hadn't been fucked that often since he'd been back at school, Alex concluded that he'd probably been getting it during the school holidays. So had Mr Brown been correct to suggest that the ten-year old had lost his cherry before Arrowsmith fucked him? That seemed likely too. A little later, Alex decided, he'd make sure he got the full story.

"Ohh! Ohh! Ohh!" Fairchild whimpered, his muscles wracked by crazy spasms.

"Oh fuck!" Bradshaw responded. "I'm gonna cum! Oh yes! Now take it! Here it comes! Ohhhhh!!"

Alex watched the boys lying in a heap, exhausted by their exertions. He was impressed. Bradshaw had experienced a quite spectacular orgasm when he'd fucked Van Kerkstraat a week earlier. If anything, this latest one had been even more powerful.

After around a minute, Bradshaw withdrew, rolling off onto his back, his chest still rising and falling. Fairchild immediately got off the bed, going across to join Mr White who was sitting in his armchair. Without hesitation, he sat across the man's lap.

"I think you enjoyed that," Alex whispered.

"Yes sir, I love taking it up my bum."

"You seemed to manage it very easily," Alex continued. "That suggests to me that you were being fucked during the school holidays. You were, weren't you?"

"Yes sir."

"So who was that with?"

"My brother, sir. And while we were at home, Tristan, one of his friends from school, came to stay with us. He did me as well."

"I see! So how old are they?"

"They're fourteen, sir."

"Big cocks?"

"Olly's is about the same size as Mr Brown's, sir, but Tristan's is bigger. Not quite as big as yours, sir, but not far off."

"And were you okay with that?"

"Yes sir!"

"So I guess you're not too worried about taking mine?"

"No, sir; I'm looking forward to it. Long says you'll fill my boy-hole."

"Well, I've certainly filled his a few times," Alex admitted, "Tell me, did Olly and Tristan fuck you like Bradshaw just did?"

"Olly usually does it like that. It's our favourite. Tristan didn't though. He had me on my back. He said he liked to see my face while he was bumming me."

"So how long have you been doing it?"

"Since the summer holiday last year. Olly started showing me stuff. I really loved it, so it wasn't long before he stuck his cock up my bum. He must have fucked me about a dozen times before we went back to school."

"Wonderful!" Alex purred.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As Fairchild sat in their host's lap, Martin joined Bradshaw on the bed.

"Well," he said, drawing the twelve-year old towards him. "You gave Fairchild a severe seeing to!"

"He loved it, sir," Bradshaw assured him.

"He certainly seemed to. I was surprised. As far as I know, he's not been fucked like that before."

"I reckon he must have been, sir," Bradshaw opined, doing his best to sound respectful. "He never even winced when I stuck it in. It's quite painful, taking it like that if you're not used to it."

Martin mentally kicked himself. From his own schoolboy experiences, he knew exactly how painful it was. Unfortunately, thinking beyond the obvious had never been his strong point. Methodically, he set about getting Bradshaw ready to be fucked. As he did so, he glanced across to see Fairchild kneeling on the floor, expertly sucking their host's cock.

As soon as his preparations were complete, Martin looked again. Fairchild was standing with his back to Mr White, carefully lowering himself onto the man's penis.

"Okay," he whispered to Bradshaw. "They're almost ready for us."

Without waiting to be asked, Bradshaw moved into position, down on all-fours with Fairchild and Mr White directly in front of him. It was nothing new. He'd done it on several occasions, with Long where Fairchild now was. He'd enjoyed it every time.

As Bradshaw watched, Mr Brown's penis slid right into him. Meanwhile, Fairchild slowly wiggled his way down Mr White's cock. Finally, he was sitting right in his host's lap, the man's pubic hair cushioning his bottom.

"Good boy!" Alex encouraged. "Now lift up your feet and rest them on the side of bed so that your toes are just sticking over the top. You'll find it more comfortable like that."

Quickly getting the idea, Fairchild did as he was asked, giving Bradshaw a perfect view of his tiny boy-hole stretched quite obscenely around Mr White's penis. Needing no instruction, Bradshaw lowered his head and shoulders, his lips closing over the ten-year old's joystick.

"Okay boys!" Alex said. "Keep still and enjoy the ride!"

Simultaneously, the two teachers got to work. Being fucked and sucked at the same time was a new experience for Fairchild. He found it very exciting, just as Long had told him he would. Bradshaw, on the other hand, had been spit-roasted a number of times. Even so, he found the dual stimulation of Mr Brown's cock thrusting over his prostate while Fairchild's boy-spike pumped in and out of his mouth to be truly exhilarating.

It lasted barely two minutes. As Fairchild's prick swelled and pulsed in Bradshaw's mouth, his anal contractions set off Mr White, with Mr Brown's orgasm following seconds later. This left Bradshaw on the cusp of a second climax. Had Mr Brown so much as touched his penis, he would definitely have cum, but as he was kneeling in an accentuated Z-shape, that would not have been easy to do. In any case, he'd have spurted all over the bedclothes; next time they'd have to put a towel there. But he wasn't concerned; he knew that he'd soon have another opportunity.

After a lengthy pause, they carefully disengaged. Once again, Alex ducked out of asking Bradshaw to lick the spunk from the younger boy's legs, even though the lad was leaking profusely.

"Right boys!" he announced. "Off to the bathroom!"

As Bradshaw ushered Fairchild through the bedroom door, he smiled to himself. As soon as they'd both used the toilet, he'd ask his new friend if he could fuck him again. It was obvious that the kid would say yes.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

October 1961

The next week passed off uneventfully, things carrying on much as they always did. A couple of days later, September gave way to October. Since the start of term, Alex had watched Whitney carefully. Far from detecting signs that the lad was going off the rails, in maths, he was doing better than ever.

Nor was that the only thing that had changed. Although they were back to being close friends, Whitney's relationship with Newton had altered quite radically. A year earlier, Newton had been very much the leader, Whitney the loyal and obedient follower. This was no longer the case. Since the summer holidays, Whitney had become far more self-reliant. He'd developed a level of maturity, a quiet confidence in his ability to make his own decisions and do things for himself. He didn't just look like a young man; he acted like one. It was not at all what Alex had expected.

Keen not to jump to conclusions, he decided to speak to the other masters who taught his form. The message they gave him was very clear. In the science subjects where Whitney had never previously done very well, he had improved considerably. In the subjects where he'd done well before, he was doing even better. In English and history, he was up there with the most able boys in the form.

Alex found it very puzzling. As far as he knew, the only new factor in Whitney's life was his relationship with Lorenzo Parker. Was it possible for that to have changed things in such a positive way? It seemed most unlikely. Parker was lazy and argumentative. Alex had been sure that Whitney was making a serious mistake by becoming involved with the lad. But for reasons he couldn't fathom, that was not how things were working out.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Friday afternoon. Lorenzo had just arrived at Michael's house. Michael noticed immediately that something was different. Since the start of term, Lorenzo had, for the most part, been getting his head down and working hard for his O-level exams. He hadn't found it either easy or enjoyable, but with lots of support from Michael and a little from their other friends, he'd managed it.

But today, it wasn't like that at all. For the first time since they'd been back at school, he looked genuinely happy. Michael didn't know quite what to make of it, but wasn't going to ask stupid questions. Lorenzo was the most relaxed he'd been for weeks and Michael was determined to make the most of it.

The sex that followed was simply glorious, the boyfriends totally at peace, with themselves, with each other, and with the world. By the end, Michael had this wonderful feeling that he and Lorenzo could overcome any obstacle that they were faced with. Together, they were unstoppable. They snuggled up for a final kiss and cuddle.

"Mike," Lorenzo whispered. "Will it be okay if we don't meet up again this weekend? The thing is that Sutherland's told us to write a story for homework. Well, I've had this story in my head for a while. This is the first chance I've had to actually write it. But it's going to take quite a bit of work. I've got other homework too, of course. I'm going to do that first before I start on the story." He paused for a moment. "I promise I'll make it up to you on Tuesday," he added, his brown eyes sparkling.

Michael was taken aback. This was the first time he'd heard his boyfriend express enthusiasm for anything to do with school. He'd been hoping for something like this, although he hadn't expected it to happen in the way it had. Of course, he'd miss seeing Lorenzo the following afternoon, but that didn't matter. Writing this story was clearly something his boyfriend wanted to do. He could see that it was important to him.

"Yeah, that'll be fine," he said, smiling. "I'll miss you, of course, but I think it's wonderful that you're so keen to do something like that."

"Thanks Mike," Lorenzo purred, sensuously licking Michael's ear. "I knew you'd understand."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday morning, the period before break. As usual, Lorenzo had handed in his English exercise book the previous day. It was now due to be returned. He was somewhat apprehensive. The story had taken up twenty-five pages, far longer than anything else he'd written. It had almost filled what was left of his exercise book. He could imagine his sharp-tongued form master having a go at him for wasting paper. He didn't care. This was his story, the story he'd wanted to write, and he'd done it.

As the boys took their places, Mr Sutherland began to return their exercise books. Lorenzo waited patiently. His book did not appear. Finally, with all the other books returned, Mr Sutherland came to Lorenzo's desk.

"I need to hang onto your exercise book for the moment," he said quietly. "I'll explain why later. Here's a new one for you to use." He handed it over. "I'd like to see you here at the start of the lunch break," he added. "I need to talk to you." He paused for a moment. "Don't worry," he concluded. "You're not in trouble."

But Lorenzo was worried. He'd expected his exercise book to be returned with a mark and a comment, just as it always was. He couldn't imagine why that hadn't happened. He was even more concerned about seeing his form master at lunchtime. Given the fractious relationship they'd had, it seemed inconceivable that anything good could come out of it. But he didn't have a choice. He'd have to go.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Tuesday morning break was Alex's time to be on duty. After herding several boys out of the building, he strolled out onto the playground. Reaching the far side, he turned around. His attention was immediately drawn to Jarrett, a member of his Upper Sixth pure maths class, who was standing by the wall of the main classroom block, talking to a first-year boy.

This struck him as odd. Although there wasn't a sixth-form common room as such, there was a suite of classrooms where sixth-formers were allowed to congregate at breaks and lunchtimes. Unless they were on prefect duty, that was where they'd be. More than that, most sixth-formers wouldn't be seen dead talking to a boy from further down the pecking-order.

After a short conversation, the first-year boy walked off and made his way inside, where strictly speaking, he should not have been. Around twenty seconds later, Jarrett followed him. While it could have all been perfectly innocent, Alex's instincts told him that something untoward was going on. He quickly made his way across the playground and into the building.

Alex could not be certain where Jarrett and the first-year boy had gone, nor even that they'd gone to the same place. However, if his suspicions were correct, he knew where he'd find them. He headed upstairs to the physics lab. Finding nobody on the landing, he went into the boys' toilets. The urinals were deserted, but the further one of the two stalls was occupied.

Noiselessly opening the door of the other stall, Alex knelt down and looked under the partition. It was exactly as he'd suspected. He saw a small foot facing towards the toilet bowl with the youngster's grey school shorts pooled around his ankles. Directly behind was a much larger foot pointing the same way, the distinctive shoe identifying it as belonging to Jarrett. The picture was completed by the sounds they were making, quiet but unmistakeable.

With all the evidence he needed, Alex got to his feet, silently left the toilets and hurried down the stairs. As he expected, Jarrett was the first to appear, the teenager greeting him with a respectful smile as though nothing had happened. Alex smiled back, giving no hint that he knew what the lad had been doing.

As soon as Jarrett disappeared, Alex made his way back up the stairs and into the toilets. Seeing the further stall still occupied, he knocked on the door.

"Come out right now!" he ordered.

A few seconds later, the toilet was flushed and the bolt drawn back. The first-year boy emerged. Alex quickly looked him over; average height at around four feet nine, slim without being skinny, hazel eyes and straight, dark hair cut fairly short; a nice-looking lad though nothing exceptional.

"Name?" Alex demanded.

"Davies, sir."

"Show me!"

The boy produced his homework diary which bore the name Ashley Davies, a member of 1-Red.

"Well, Davies," Alex said in his most authoritative tone. "I don't have time to deal with this now. At the end of afternoon school, you are to report to my classroom, which is room 19. We'll talk about it then. And don't forget, because I certainly won't."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

As soon as his class was dismissed at the start of the lunch break, Lorenzo strode reluctantly towards Mr Sutherland's classroom. He was certain that his form master had hated the story and was about to point out everything that was wrong with it. He surmised that the only reason that the man hadn't done it during their English class was that it would have taken too long. Difficult as it would be, he would have to do as Michael's uncle had advised him: stay calm and be respectful. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room.

"Come and sit down," Mr Sutherland invited, indicating the chair that he'd placed close to his desk.

This took Lorenzo by surprise; he'd been sure he'd be required to stand. As he sat down, Mr Sutherland opened his English exercise book.

"When I asked you write a story for homework," he said gently. "I have to say that this was not what I was expecting."

"Sir." Lorenzo acknowledged.

"You wrote at considerable length," Mr Sutherland continued.

"Yes sir. I'd had this story in my head. It was the first chance that I'd had to actually write it. I'm sorry if it was too long."

"Oh, don't worry about that. But it must have taken up your whole weekend?"

"Almost, sir. I did my other homework first. Then I got down to it. I finished it on Sunday afternoon."

"I see. Now I've known since you were in second-year that you weren't doing as well as you could. I've been pleased that this term your work has begun to improve. Even so, I didn't expect you to produce anything as good as this."

"Really, sir?" Lorenzo queried, hardly able to believe his ears.

"Not only is it a wonderful story, the writing is excellent and I couldn't find a mistake anywhere. Your handwriting's always good, but you sustained it over twenty-five pages. I couldn't have done that."

"Thank you, sir."

"The reason I didn't say anything this morning is that I didn't want to make a fuss in front of the other boys. I felt sure you wouldn't have wanted that."

"No sir, it would have been embarrassing."

"Indeed. I have to say, you've shown a great deal of courage to write something like this."

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand."

"Well, really the story's about you, isn't it?" Mr Sutherland suggested. "About all the things you've had to go through, surrounded by people like me, who didn't understand and for the most part didn't seem to care."

"Well, sir," Lorenzo conceded, "I suppose it is in a way. I never really thought of it like that."

"Let me be blunt," Mr Sutherland went on. "In thirty years of teaching, this is as good as anything I've read, probably better. I know people who write for a living who don't do it as well as you do."

"Thank you, sir."

"The reason that I kept your exercise book was that I want to show it to some of my colleagues, the Headmaster especially. I want them to know what an outstanding piece of work you've produced. What I'd also like to do, with your permission, is to type it up and try to get it published. Not on its own, of course, but there are people who publish collections of short stories. It's easily good enough to get into one of those. Would you be happy for me to do that?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Excellent! I can't promise, but you might even make a little money out of it."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just one final thing." Mr Sutherland said, looking the teenager right in the eye. "You need to show that sort of commitment all the time, and not just in English. You've shown you can do it. You've proved to yourself that you can do it. We need to see more work of that standard. Right! You'd better go and get your lunch."

As Lorenzo left the classroom, his head was spinning. In just a few minutes, his whole world seemed to have turned upside down. All he'd done was write a story. He hadn't done it to try to impress anyone. He'd written the story because he'd wanted to. But it seemed to have changed everything.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With classes over for the day, Alex sat in his classroom and waited. As the seconds ticked into minutes, he began to wonder if Davies would show up. After all, what he'd told the lad was a bluff. If Davies failed to arrive, there'd be nothing he could do. Suddenly, the boy appeared.

"You asked to see me, sir," Davies said respectfully.

"This morning," Alex told him, "I was on duty over on the far side of the playground. I saw you talking to Jarrett from Upper Sixth. After a few seconds, you walked off and went into the building. Shortly afterwards Jarrett followed you. Having an idea where you might have gone, I went up to the toilets by the physics lab. I don't think you heard me; you were probably too busy, but I knelt on the floor and looked under the partition, so I know exactly what you were doing."

He paused, allowing time for the tension to build.

"Now as long as you tell me the truth," he said, weighing his words carefully, "I see no reason to take this any further. However, if I think you are not being completely honest, I'll have to report what I saw. So tell, me, what was Jarrett doing?"

"He was sticking it up my bum, sir."

"Yes, exactly!"

Suddenly, Alex understood what the connection was, mentally kicking himself for not having realised earlier.

"Tell, me," he demanded. "Do you have a brother in Upper Sixth?"

"Yes sir."

"Your brother and Jarrett being close friends?"

"Yes sir."

They were an odd pairing, Alex reflected. Gareth Davies stood around five feet six. Slightly built, he couldn't have weighed 120 pounds soaking wet, and didn't look a day older than fifteen. Jarrett, by contrast, was a fraction over six feet tall, very well-built, and looked older than he was. In recent weeks, Alex had seen both of them getting changed after games. Davies's prick was, appropriately, a little on the small side. By contrast, Jarrett's definitely wasn't.

Davies was an excellent student and hoped to win a place at Cambridge to read natural sciences. Academically, Jarrett wasn't bad either. Though not quite Oxbridge material, he was definitely on track to make it to one of the better redbrick establishments. Neither one of them could afford to be caught in flagrente delecto.

"Does your brother know what you and Jarrett get up to?" Alex enquired.

Davies hesitated.

"Well? You need to tell me the truth."

"Yes, sir," the boy conceded.

"So would I be right in thinking that he's involved too?"

"Yes sir."

"Does he stick it up your bum?"

"Yes sir."

"And how long has he been doing that?"

"He started when I was nine, sir."

"That really was very naughty of him! Do I take it that you like him doing that?"

"Yes, sir."

"So when did you start doing it with Jarrett?"

"During the Easter holidays."

"And how did that happen?"

"I told Gareth that I thought Carl would like to do stuff with me, but Gareth said he wouldn't be interested. Anyway, we made a plan. Gareth asked Carl to come round one afternoon, only when he arrived, Gareth was out. I said he wouldn't be long and asked Carl to come in and wait for him. We sat on the sofa. I got really close so our legs were touching. Carl got hard straight away, so I took it out and sucked him off."

"I see!" Alex said, smirking.

He looked the boy up and down, his eyes homing in on the bulge at the front of the youngster's shorts. Although he wasn't anything special, he was a very nice little specimen, and clearly available.

"Wait there," he ordered.

Going to the classroom door, Alex made his usual checks. Seeing nobody around, he ushered the boy into his storeroom, locking the door behind them.

"Take your blazer off," he instructed, sitting on the chair that he'd purposely left there.

With his blazer removed, Davies turned to face him. After unclipping the top of the youngster's shorts, Alex pulled down the zip. The shorts immediately fell around the boy's ankles.

"Pull your shirt up," he said.

Davies complied without a moment's hesitation, showing off his snowy white briefs.

"Horny little thing, aren't you?" Alex said, running his fingers over the front of the eleven-year old's underpants. "I think it's time these came down too."

He quickly skinned them down the youngster's legs, exposing the lad's slim, uncut penis, a little over three inches long, the boy's foreskin just covering the tip.

"Now this is strictly between you and me," Alex said, looking straight into Davies's eyes. "Not a word to anyone! Not to your brother, not to Jarrett and not to anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

Leaning forwards, Alex devoured Davies's throbbing spike. He sucked it hungrily, his tongue flicking out to slash at the youngster's marble-sized balls. Slipping his hand between Davies's legs, he quickly located the boy's rosebud. He pushed inside, finding the eleven-year old's tunnel still greasy from his exploits earlier in the day. Beyond licking the boy out, he concluded, no further preparation would be necessary. Allowing his finger to slide back out, he released the lad's penis and stood up.

"It's time you found out what I've got for you," he said.

Nonchalantly opening Mr Faulkner's trousers, Davies reached inside, fishing out the man's penis.

"So how does mine compare with Jarrett's?" Alex asked.

"Jarrett's is bigger, sir."

"I thought it might be. I've seen him and your brother getting changed after games. Your brother's not very big. I'm guessing Jarrett's must have hurt like hell the first time he fucked you."

"Yes sir."

"But now you're used to it, you shouldn't have any problem taking mine. Okay, get down and suck it. Get me nice and wet."

Davies immediately sank onto his knees, took the maths master's penis into his mouth and began to suck, steadily working his way down until his nose pushed into the man's pubic hair.

"Okay, you can stop now," Alex told him.

As Davies got to his feet, Alex positioned him over the chair, the boy's hands resting on the seat. Kneeling down behind, Alex parted the youngster's bum-cheeks, his tongue homing in on the boy's starfish. He pushed inside, getting a slight taste of Jarrett's spunk. After a few seconds, he pulled away and stood up. With a little K-Y smeared over his cock, he lined himself up, impaling the lad with a single expert thrust.

"Oooh, sir!" Davies groaned.

Holding the boy around the tops of his thighs, Alex quickly set to work. Spurred on by Davies, who purred like a contented cat, he gradually built up the pace until he was fucking the boy with all the force he could muster.

"You love having my big cock up your bottom, don't you?" he challenged.

"Oh, yes sir!"

`Wonderful! Another little cock-slut,' Alex thought.

Sensing his orgasm beginning to build, he slid his right hand downwards. Grasping the eleven-year old's throbbing prick between finger and thumb, Alex began to wank him. Within a matter of seconds, Davies bucked uncontrollably, his legs almost giving way beneath him.

"Oh, you sexy little boy!" Alex rasped, the youngster's anus going into spasm around his cock. "I'm going to fill your cute little bottom!"

Plunging in as deep as he could, he pumped rope after rope of hot, creamy spunk into the youngster's rectum. As soon as he recovered his composure, Alex carefully pulled out. He was delighted. Things could not have gone better. Straightaway, spunk spluttered from Davies's rosebud and trickled down his legs, Alex gently massaging it into the lad's thighs and buttocks. Finally, the boy's starfish closed and the flow stopped.

"How was that?" Alex enquired.

"Oh, it was super, sir!"

"Excellent! It was good for me, too! Okay, you'd better get dressed."

"Will you want to see me again, sir?" Davies asked, pulling up his underpants.

"I'd love to see you again," Alex said honestly. "But I don't think it'd be a good idea. Apart from anything else, you'll have enough to do, looking after Jarrett and your brother."

"Yes sir," Davies agreed, looking disappointed.

It was frustrating, Alex reflected. Davies would have suited him very nicely, but as he taught both Jarrett and the lad's older brother, the risk of being discovered was simply too high. He consoled himself with the thought that it wasn't a total disaster; he still had the younger Newton to look forward to.

"Right," he said. "You'd better go. And be careful. Don't let Jarrett talk you into doing it at break or lunchtime. Next time, you could get caught by someone rather less understanding than I am."

"Yes, sir," Davies answered, grinning mischievously as he realised what Mr Faulkner meant.

Alex watched as the boy left his classroom. Davies headed straight to the nearest toilets, keen to dispose of the evidence. When he got home, he'd go to his brother's bedroom where Gareth would be waiting for him. When they were both naked, he'd lie face-down on the bed, a pillow under his boy-parts. His brother would then climb on top and give him another good fucking.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was twenty past four when the doorbell rang. Trotting downstairs, Michael opened to front door. As expected, Lorenzo was there.

"Good to see you!" Michael enthused. "How did the story-writing go?"

"Let's go upstairs," Lorenzo suggested. "I'll tell you about it."

For the next ten minutes, they sat hand in hand on Michael's bed while Lorenzo recounted the day's events.

"It was all so unexpected," he concluded. "Sutherland just isn't like that, well, not normally he isn't."

"Wow!" Michael breathed, the tears welling up. "I am so proud of you."

"I didn't do it to impress anyone," Lorenzo protested. "I did it because I wanted to."

"I know," Michael acknowledged. "But now he's seen the real you and what you're capable of. That's what's made the difference."

"Yeah, he told me that all my work ought to be as good as that."

"And it will be, won't it?"

"I guess it'll have to be," Lorenzo conceded, giving his boyfriend a wry grin.

"So what's the story about?" Michael asked.

"It's about a boy who doesn't fit in," Lorenzo said. "Nobody likes him, nobody even wants him around. One day, he meets a mystic who tells him that he will never find happiness there. He has to go on a journey to an island where people will accept him. The mystic provides him with a boat and provisions, but the journey is difficult and dangerous. He's all on his own with no-one to help him; the weather is stormy and the sea's very rough. Several times he thinks he's not going to make it. But one morning when he wakes up, the sea's calm, the sun's shining and the island he's been trying to reach is just ahead of him, so he brings the boat in and goes ashore. Almost immediately, he meets another boy who offers to help him. After a short time, the boy takes him to meet some of the other people who live on the island. They're friendly and understanding too. At the end of the story, he meets the island's elders who tell him that they too started out from the barren place where he came from, and that they're happy that he's made the journey and hope he wants to stay. He does, of course, because he's finally found a place where he feels he belongs."

"That's amazing," Michael said, shaking his head in wonderment. "It's sort of about you, isn't it?"

"I guess it is," Lorenzo agreed. "Mr Sutherland said that too."

Without another word, the boys began to undress. As soon as they were naked, they snuggled up on the bed.

"So what would you like to do?" Michael asked. "We haven't got long."

"Whatever you want," Lorenzo responded.

"Would you like to fuck me?"

"I'd love to!"

"Come on then!" Michael urged. "Let's do it!"