THE HUNTING SEASON

by Pink Panther

And so the story moves on. Lorenzo's story has caused quite a stir, but in a good way. Meanwhile, Russell (Bradshaw) is itching to go all the way with Robbie (Newton), and Michael gets a surprise he definitely wasn't expecting. As always, feedback is more than welcome. Please send your comments to archimedes294@hushmail.com, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

May I also ask you to consider making a donation to Nifty, which relies of readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. Please be as generous as you can!

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

October 1961

It was Friday morning break. Alex was surprised to see Neil Fleming strolling into his classroom.

"Good morning!" he said brightly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Your former nemesis has done something quite remarkable. I thought you might be interested."

"You mean Parker? What's he done this time?"

"Last Friday, Jim Sutherland told his form to write a story for homework. Rather than the four or five pages that most of the boys wrote, Parker's story extended to twenty-five pages, all in immaculate handwriting. It was about a boy who goes on a journey, looking for somewhere that people will accept him the way he is. Actually, the journey is just an allegory; the story's really about growing up. What bowled me over was that he writes beautifully. The way that he captures the sense that `you're the only one going through this' is quite exceptional."

"It's good to see him putting in that sort of effort. He never did when I taught him."

"Oh, he's improved a lot this term. He's really been getting his head down."

"The story seems to have made a big impression on you," Alex suggested.

"I've got two teenage boys," Neil reminded him. "I've been watching it happen. Oh, they do their best to keep it under the surface, but it's definitely there. My younger one's just started third-year. He's going through it right now."

"Thanks for letting me know," Alex responded, reflecting that the Fleming boys were lucky to have a dad as understanding and supportive as Neil obviously was.

As his head of department left the classroom, Alex tried to make sense of it all. It seemed clear that Parker's relationship with Whitney had to have played a big part in the lad's change of attitude. The real mystery was how the younger boy had been able to exert such a positive influence.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The bell sounded for the start of the lunch break. On Mr Fleming's instruction, Lorenzo packed his maths things away. He was on his way out of the classroom when the teacher called him over.

"Yesterday, Mr Sutherland showed me the story you wrote," Mr Fleming said quietly. "I thought it was outstanding. Well done!"

"Thank you, sir."

"I hope you don't mind, but I took it home and gave it to my boys to read. They thought it was wonderful. In the case of the younger one, that's quite an achievement. It's rare for him to express enthusiasm for anything he's read."

"But sir," Lorenzo queried, looking puzzled. "I thought your boys did okay."

"Oh, they do for the most part," Neil agreed. "That doesn't mean that they've found it easy. Growing up can be very deceptive. It's like ducks on a duckpond. On the surface, it looks like they're gliding serenely along. Underneath, they're paddling like crazy. My younger lad, Matthew, is in third year and it's just hit him. After he'd read your story, he told me that he feels like that sometimes. I think he was relieved to know that he's not the only one."

"Thanks, sir," Lorenzo said appreciatively, wishing that his dad could have been like Mr Fleming. "Sir, Mr Sutherland said he was going to type the story up so that he could send it off to try to get it published."

"Yes, he told me that. Apparently, when he showed it to the Headmaster, Mr Cope was so impressed he told Mr Sutherland he'd get the school secretary to type it. I believe that's been done."

As Lorenzo made his way out to lunch, he was almost overwhelmed. It wasn't because of Mr Fleming's approval, welcome though that was. An ordinary teenage boy had read the story, liked it, and appeared to have understood what he'd been trying to say. That meant everything.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

"Mr Sutherland returned my old English exercise book this afternoon," Lorenzo announced as Michael welcomed him into the house.

"Have you got it with you?" Michael asked.

"Yes. I thought you might want to read it."

"Of course I want to read it!" Michael said emphatically.

As soon as they'd settled down in his bedroom, Michael began to read. He was captivated from the first few sentences. By the end, he was struggling to hold back the tears.

"This is wonderful!" he sobbed. "It's all here, every bit of it. This is exactly what it's like!"

"Mr Fleming spoke to me this morning," Lorenzo told him. "He gave it to his sons to read. He said they both liked it, especially the younger one."

"How old's he?"

"He's in third-year."

"About my age then. They don't go to Woodchurch, do they?"

"No, they're at Lakefield. It's near where they live. Anyway, Mr Fleming said that after he'd read the story, Matthew, that's the one who's your age, told him that he feels like that sometimes. Hearing that made me feel, . . . well, like I'd really achieved something."

"I wonder if Matthew's like us?" Michael speculated.

"Dunno. I don't think it was that he was referring to. It was more the whole growing up business and how confusing and difficult it is. Mr Fleming reckons that most boys go through that, even when it looks like they're finding it easy."

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "I think that's right. Mr Fleming's good, isn't he?"

"He's the best teacher I've ever had," Lorenzo said firmly. "He's really tried to look after me. It's not that I talk to him that often, but it really helps, knowing that I can if I need to."

"Are your science teachers still having a go at you?" Michael asked.

"They do sometimes," Lorenzo admitted. "It doesn't bother me now. We've made a plan and I'm sticking to it. I just listen politely and forget about it."

"But last week you get really upset when Mr Onslow told you off about that French translation."

"But I'm supposed to be working hard in French and doing everything properly, aren't I? And I didn't. When I was little, Dad used to insist that I did everything right. He wasn't rough with me or anything. If I didn't do something the way I was supposed to, he'd say, `We don't do it like that, we do it like this,' and I'd have to do it like he said. He did that because he cared about me. I understood that. But when he got sick, that all stopped. I wanted Mum to treat me like that, but she never did. But you do. It's because you care."

Michael finally understood. It wasn't really the tellings-off that Lorenzo got upset about. It was having to face up to not having done things as he should have done.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Saturday afternoon was sunny, and very warm for mid-October. Russell Bradshaw sat on his bike outside Welstead Park, close to where the Newtons lived. He was waiting for Robbie and feeling almost invincible. Scared that it was going to hurt, the eleven-year old had been trying to put off going all the way. But at their last meeting, the younger boy had promised that the next time they got together, he'd allow Russell to take that ultimate step.

Earlier that day, Russell had played football for the school team. They'd performed superbly, winning 5 – 1, and he'd had his best game ever, scoring one goal and laying on two of the others. With his heel problems behind him, he was fitter and stronger than he'd ever been. Playing in his favoured position on the right wing, he'd posed a threat every time he'd got the ball. After a performance like that, and with the imminent prospect of taking Robbie's cherry, his hormones were running riot.

A couple of minutes later, the boy cycled up to him.

"Hi Robbie!" Russell greeted.

"Hi Russ," Robbie answered giving the older boy a nervous grin. "Are we going to yours?"

"Nah!" Russell told him. "Mum's got the day off. She gets about one Saturday in six. We'll have to go in the woods. That's okay. It's plenty warm enough."

After locking their bikes, they made their way into the park. Unlike Beechwood, the wooded area was within the park rather than next to it, and offered a number of hiding places. They'd used the area a couple of times before. They sauntered in without an apparent care in the world. In reality, Russell's cock was so hard, it felt as though it was about to burst out of his tight summer shorts.

A few minutes later, the boys arrived at their chosen hiding-place. Robbie had taken Russell there a couple of weeks earlier. The twelve-year old had spotted its potential immediately. Apart from being well away from the path and completely hidden, its main asset was that on one side was a large log, actually part of a fallen tree-trunk, the perfect place for Robbie to rest his hands while being fucked from behind.

"Okay?" he said, smiling.

"Sure," Robbie replied, giving Russell his sexiest grin. "Are we going to take our tops off?"

"We can if you want."

"Okay! Let's!"

With tee-shirts removed and draped over a bush, Robbie undid the top of Russell's shorts. Within seconds, the older lad's shorts and underpants were around his ankles. Not to be outdone, Russell returned the favour. For several seconds, the boys stood facing each other, each of them running his fingers over the other's erect penis.

Eager to move things along, Russell knelt down. Taking Robbie's stiff cock into his mouth, he sucked it steadily. As he did so, he slipped his hand between the eleven-year old's legs, his index finger alighting on the boy's rosebud. After gently massaging it for a few seconds, he pushed the top joint right inside. Robbie made no protest; so far, so good.

After a couple of minutes, the boys changed places. Having received some tips from his brother while they were on holiday, Robbie was already an accomplished performer. Running his fingers through the younger lad's hair, Russell basked in the exquisite sensations the eleven-year old was giving him. And this was only for starters, he reminded himself. This was the day that he'd claim the prize he'd been working towards for weeks, and that was going to be the best feeling ever!

"Okay, you'd better stop now," he said, feeling himself getting close. "I don't want to cum yet."

"So what are we going to do now?" Robbie asked, letting him go.

"Bend over the log and I'll lick your bum."

With Robbie in position, Russell knelt down behind. Having parted the boy's bum-cheeks, he worked his tongue over the eleven-year old's rosebud. Finally, he pushed it inside. Robbie moaned and gurgled, the pleasurable sensations almost overwhelming.

Withdrawing his tongue, Russell took a small tube from the pocket of his shorts. Squeezing some gel onto his index finger, he carefully inserted it in his younger friend's starfish. Very carefully, he pushed it further in, a few millimetres at a time. When he could go no further, he began a steady finger-fuck, Robbie's moans and gurgles becoming noticeably louder.

After around a minute, Russell slowly pulled back until only the top joint remained inside. Positioning his middle digit directly below it, he pushed them both in.

"Owww!" Robbie protested, wincing sharply.

"Just relax," Russell instructed, holding his position. "It'll feel okay soon."

As the pressure on his fingers began to ease, he pushed them both in, twisting them around to loosen the boy's anal ring. Robbie winced a couple of times; apart from that, all went well. Finally, Russell allowed his fingers to slide out. This was it. There was no more he could do.

"Are you ready, then?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"You mean we're going to do it out here?" Robbie questioned. "Suppose we get caught?"

"We're not going to get caught," Russell said calmly. "Come on, Robbie! You promised, remember? On Wednesday you said that the next time we got together, we'd do it."

"But I didn't know we'd be out here!"

"Being out here makes absolutely no difference," Russell remonstrated. "Now come on! Let's get on with it!"

"But it's going to hurt, isn't it?" Robbie objected. "I'm not ready."

"You're as ready as you're going to be," Russell countered. "Yes, it'll hurt a bit when it goes in; it always does the first time. It's the shock more than anything. But as long as you relax, you'll be fine."

He paused. He was disappointed that Robbie had tried to wheedle his way out of it, but he wasn't surprised. Though quite adventurous in lots of ways, when it came to anything that might hurt a little, the younger boy was something of a baby. He took a deep breath.

"Robbie," he said firmly, looking the lad right in the eye. "I'm not asking you to do anything I haven't done, and the first cock I took was a lot bigger than mine is. In any case, you made a promise. You need to stick to it."

Nobody had actually told him, but Robbie was pretty sure that the cock that Russell had referred to belonged to Mr Faulkner, his brother's form master. Russell was Mr Faulkner's star pupil. He taught the boy on his own. They even had lessons at Mr Faulkner's flat.

Robbie knew that he'd lost the argument. He'd hoped against hope that he'd be able to put it off for a bit longer, but Russell was having none of it. The problem was that he really liked Russell. He didn't want to let him down.

"Okay," he conceded.

Allowing Russell to squeeze some gel onto his fingers, he smeared it over the twelve-year old's prick before settling back into his position. Almost immediately, he felt the head pressing against his rosebud.

"Push out like you're having a crap," Russell instructed.

Robbie did as he was told. Suddenly, the older boy's penis speared into him.

"Owwwww!" Robbie wailed.

"Just relax and get used to me being there," Russell told him, holding the lad firmly around the tops of his thighs. "Don't try to fight it. That makes it worse."

It took a while, but eventually Robbie's breathing slowed and he began to relax. Though still very uncomfortable, it was nowhere like as painful as it had been. Unexpectedly, the hand around his right thigh slid down and a moment later, Russell's fingers were wrapped around his prick. It was soft. Without him realising, he'd lost his hard-on the moment that the twelve-year old's cock had gone into him.

Gradually, Russell's sensitive fingers brought it back to life. As soon as he was hard, the hand moved back onto his thigh and the twelve-year old's cock began to push further into his bum. Steadily reaming his virgin tunnel, it struck a sensitive spot deep inside, causing his prick to twitch and tingle. Almost immediately afterwards, he felt Russell's pubic bone pressed tight against his bottom.

After a short pause, the older boy's penis slowly retreated, making his joystick tingle again as the head passed over the sensitive spot. `Is he going to take it out?' Robbie wondered. He wasn't, Russell's cock coming to rest in much the same position it had been when it first entered him. A couple of seconds later, it began to make its way back in.

Within a minute or so, Russell was moving continuously, in, out, in, out. This was it, Robbie realised. He was being fucked. It was weird. Although he was still aware of how much his rosebud had been stretched, the tingling in his penis seemed to blot out the discomfort.

Gradually the pace increased, the older boy's thrusts becoming faster and harder, the throbbing and tingling in Robbie's penis so intense, it was all he could think about. Suddenly, Russell's fingers wrapped themselves around his joystick and began gently wanking him. It was too much. Robbie bucked uncontrollably, shuddering from head to toe. As his prick swelled and jerked in Russell's hand, his starfish went into spasm around the twelve-year old's invading cock.

"Oh, fuck!" Russell gasped. "Ohhhh! Jesus Christ!"

A moment later, Robbie felt Russell's hot sticky juice squirting right into him, filling his boy-hole.

As Russell carefully withdrew, he was euphoric, the reality of what he'd just done far exceeding his expectations. Whatever he achieved in his life, he couldn't imagine that anything would feel as good as that. But he knew he couldn't allow himself to get carried away. Robbie would be as sore as hell and would need some care and consideration.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, giving the boy a big smile. "You were amazing!"

"I think so," Robbie said uncertainly, crouching down to let the older boy's spunk run out onto the ground.

He plucked a dock leaf and attempted to wipe his bottom.

"Ouch!" he said, wincing. "My bum's very sore."

"Sorry," Russell said quietly. "It was bound to be, with it being your first time. Don't worry, it'll be fine in a day or two. And honestly, it does get easier. Now that I've got used to it, I love being fucked. It doesn't hurt at all."

Robbie smiled and nodded. It had hurt when it went in, just as he'd feared. He also had a sore rosebud that was likely to be that way for a couple of days. But what had happened in between had been a revelation. He could never have imagined the incredible sensations he'd just experienced, especially the dry-cum which was the wildest he'd ever had.

And he would soon get used to it; he was certain of that. He was Russell's boyfriend, and despite all his earlier doubts, he knew that in the weeks ahead he'd become well accustomed to having the twelve-year old's cock inside him.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Russell's feelings of euphoria simply refused to go away. Of course, he'd fucked boys before, but they were strangers, simply boys that he met occasionally for sex. Robbie was the first boy for whom he'd had real feelings, and he was sure that Robbie also had feelings for him. Taking the eleven-year old's cherry had cemented their relationship in a way that nothing else could.

To his mother's consternation, Russell spent Saturday evening on such a high that he was almost bouncing off the walls. She understood that he'd played particularly well in their morning football match, but knew instinctively that there had to be more to it than that.

The following morning, he still felt as though he was walking on air, and the feeling hadn't dissipated when he arrived at Mr Faulkner's flat for his Sunday tutorial.

"You're looking very pleased with yourself," Alex commented as the boy swaggered into the flat.

"Yes, sir!" Bradshaw agreed, before telling his mentor why he was buzzing so much.

"I see!" Alex said thoughtfully. "Don't you think that was a bit quick? I thought you might have spent a bit more time with the lad before going all the way. Whitney took months with the older one."

"It's the same length of time that you took with me, sir," Bradshaw countered. "And your cock's much bigger than mine is."

"Fair enough," Alex conceded, feeling as though he'd just been caught with his pants around his ankles.

It was an aspect of Bradshaw's personality that he admired but didn't particularly like. He liked the Bradshaw he'd met twelve months earlier, the boy who hung onto his every word and pretty well worshipped the ground he walked on. But like Whitney, the lad was growing up. He wanted to flex his muscles and make his own decisions.

Alex understood that the boys would grow away from him eventually, but in Bradshaw's case, it seemed to be happening rather more quickly than he'd hoped. On the positive side, the fact that his protégé had already taken young Newton's cherry would hasten the day when he brought the lad to the flat, which Alex was still confident he would.

"Who's coming this afternoon, sir?" Bradshaw enquired.

"Mr Smith's bringing Southcott over."

"Oh, that's terrific, sir! He's a real good laugh."

"And you will, no doubt, tell him all about your latest exploits?"

"Yes sir. I'll probably tell him afterwards, when we're in the bathroom."

Alex smiled approvingly. Although Bradshaw was much less of a risk-taker, he and Southcott were both bright, confident, sparky boys who prospered in each other's company. Given Bradshaw's recent physical development, it was difficult to predict which of them would do the fucking. It hardly mattered; it would be a stimulating afternoon, whichever way it turned out.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was quarter to three when Michael arrived at his uncle's flat. Over the next twenty minutes, he related all the developments of the previous week.

"That's excellent news," Jack said thoughtfully. "You need to build on that."

"Lorenzo's not worried about physics and chemistry now," Michael went on. "If the teachers have a go at him, he just ignores it."

"That's good," Jack responded casually. "It's what he needed to do. He couldn't win them all." He paused for a moment. "Michael," he asked. "You haven't told Lorenzo what your relationship was with me, have you?"

"No, of course not. I haven't said a word."

"I think it's probably time you did. Lorenzo's a nice lad and you two are getting pretty serious. I think it'd be better if he knew."

"But I told him that I got initiated in the Boys' Brigade," Michael argued.

"You don't have to say that didn't happen," Jack said quietly. "Only that you and I had messed around before that."

"Yeah, okay. I don't fancy doing it, but I know you're right."

"I'm sure he'll understand," Jack said reassuringly. "But I'm glad that you extricated yourself from Mr Faulkner's clutches. That would have been much harder to explain."

Michael nodded, but didn't answer. He wasn't going to admit that he'd stayed within Mr Faulkner's ambit for considerably longer than his uncle thought he had. In any case, he had no intention whatever of telling Lorenzo about that. There were a few people who knew. He didn't think any of them would say anything. He certainly hoped they wouldn't.

"Actually, I've got something to show you," Jack said, getting to his feet.

He led the way to the spare bedroom, which had been completely redone with all new furniture, including what appeared to be a very comfortable double bed.

"When I first moved in here, I was saving up to buy a new car," Jack explained. "All I had in here was the single bed I'd slept in until I moved out of home, and an old chest of drawers. Well, as you know, I got the car last year. I decided that my next priority was to get this room sorted out. So what do you think?"

"It's really nice!" Michael enthused. "Really bright and modern."

"It's for you and Lorenzo to use," Jack said quietly. He took a key from his keyring and handed it over. "That's the key to the front door. Make sure you keep it safe. Once you've told Lorenzo about how things were, you can come here whenever you want."

"But why, Uncle Jack? I mean, we manage okay."

"What d'you have to do at weekends?" Jack queried. "Go out into the woods. You're not going to able to do that for much longer; it'll be too cold. I want you to have a place where you'll be safe and comfortable, so that you can carry on trying to be the best you can, just like you have been, and you can encourage that boyfriend of yours to do the same."

"What about the neighbours?" Michael queried.

"I've been here five years and I hardly know them. We're like ships that pass in the night. We all work and have our own stuff to worry about. In any case, they've seen you here loads of times."

"Thanks, Uncle Jack," Michael said, tears welling up. "I don't know what to say."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Monday afternoon registration. As Alex sent his form off to their next class, he added, "Whitney, may I have a quick word, please?"

After waiting for the other boys to leave, Michael approached his form master's desk.

"Could you come and see me at the end of the day?" Alex asked, smiling. "I'd like to have a chat."

"That's fine, sir," Michael told him. "I'll be here."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With his final class of the day at an end, Michael hurried back to his form room. He had no idea what Mr Faulkner wanted, but he wasn't worried. He knew he wasn't in trouble. As he entered the room, his form master was sitting at his desk, marking exercise books.

"Come and sit down!" Alex said brightly, indicating the spare chair near his desk.

He waited until Whitney was seated facing him.

"It seems I owe you an apology," he began, looking the teenager right in the eye.

"Really, sir?" Michael queried. "What for?"

"Towards the end of last term, you told me that you had begun a relationship with Lorenzo Parker. I advised you to end it immediately, and gave you dire warnings about what would happen if you persisted. Well, I'm pleased to say that you had sufficient faith in your own judgement to take no notice of what I'd said to you. This term, Parker's work and attitude have improved beyond all recognition. I don't know how you've done it, but you have to have played a big part in that. The fact is that you were right and I was wrong. I've also noticed that you've been doing much better too. Well done! I didn't think you had it in you."

"Thank you, sir."

"So how did it all happen?"

"After you spoke to me and told me about all the bad stuff Lorenzo had done, I thought `But he's not like that.' At least, he wasn't like that with me. So I asked him about it. He didn't try to bat it off or make excuses. If he had, I'm pretty sure I'd have dumped him. He told me all about how it happened, how scared he was when he realised he liked boys rather than girls, and how ashamed he was of some of the things he'd done, especially that business with Stainham. Well, sir, after he'd been so honest with me, I couldn't just abandon him. I mean, what would that have said about me?"

"Well, I can understand that, but weren't you worried about what you were taking on?"

"Yes, sir, but I do really like him and I wanted us to be boyfriends, so I really thought about what I'd need to do. One of the things he'd said to me was that I was the only person he'd met who understood what it was like to be him. Anyway, during the holidays, I introduced him to Newton and Ferris. We went out on our bikes, went to each other's houses, all that sort of thing. We're all really good friends now. It's helped a lot for Lorenzo to know some other boys like us, and have some other people he can talk to without having to be careful what he says."

"I think that's excellent," Alex said appreciatively. "You've done really well."

"Well, it was like I had to, sir. Playing at it wasn't going to do any good."

"But how have you managed to get him working so much better?"

"Well, first of all I asked him if he wanted things to carry on as they were. He said he didn't. So we made a plan of what he needed to do."

"So what happens if he doesn't stick to it?"

"Well, the thing is, I always know. He's useless at hiding it. A couple of times one of the teachers has had a go at him for not doing the homework properly. That really upsets him. Actually, it's not really them he's upset with, it's himself, for not having done what he was supposed to. Anyway, I get him lying on his front and fuck him really hard, and while I'm doing it, I remind him about what he needs to do."

"Not a conventional approach," Alex said, smiling. "But it sounds like it's working."

"Yes sir," Michael confirmed. "I've only needed to do it a few times. Afterwards, he always thanks me. He says it shows I care. Of course, there are other days when he's done well and been getting on top of things. Then he gets to fuck me."

"Interesting! So you're still pretty versatile, then?"

"Yes sir! I like it like that."

"And as well as doing all that, your work's improved."

"Well, it had to, sir. I needed to set an example. Another thing I did, sir, was talk to Uncle Jack. He said it was a lot for me to take on, but I was doing the right thing. He said it was what my mum would have done. He helped us plan what Lorenzo needed to do, like forgetting about physics and chemistry."

"I see!"

"Lorenzo reckoned he wouldn't pass physics or chemistry however hard he tried. Uncle Jack said he ought to forget about them and concentrate on the subjects where he could do well."

"I guess that is sensible advice," Alex conceded.

"During the holidays, sir, Mr Newton talked to us. He was really helpful. Chris says his dad is one in a million."

"He's definitely right about that. What I don't understand is that you could have had a relationship with Newton. You had it on a plate, but you never took it seriously enough."

"I've thought about that, sir," Michael answered. "Chris is a lot cleverer than I am. He helped me a lot, but I couldn't do anything to help him. It was sort of unbalanced."

"Well, things seem to have worked out for the best," Alex said, smiling.

"Yes, sir. Chris and Mark are perfect together."

"Just before you go," Alex said, lowering his voice. "Am I right in thinking that you're no longer having sex with your uncle?"

"Yes sir. We stopped before the summer holidays."

"So if he's not having sex with you, where's he getting it?"

"Actually, sir, I took your advice about that."

"Really?" Alex queried, looking puzzled. "What advice was that?"

"Don't ask silly questions!"

"Ouch!" Alex said, grinning. "I guess I asked for that. Okay, I'd better let you go home."

As Whitney left the room, Alex mulled over what he'd just been told. He was lost in admiration. He'd always considered Whitney to be rather self-centred, but when faced with a quite daunting challenge, the young man had risen to meet it in a way he would not have believed possible. He'd shown a determination to succeed and an ability to make use of the people around him. By any standards, what the just-turned-fourteen-year old had achieved in helping Parker to get himself back on track was quite exceptional. `Some are born to greatness,' Alex recalled. `Others have greatness thrust upon them.' And he was the only member of staff who would ever know.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Heading for home, Michael was basking in a warm glow. Mr Faulkner hadn't needed to congratulate him on what he'd done, much less apologise, but he'd done it anyway. That was special. For sure, his form master liked to have sex with some of the younger boys. Most people said that was bad.

But how bad was it? Mr Faulkner didn't force boys to do anything they didn't want to do. The handful of boys he'd had sex with had all participated willingly. More than that, he was a wonderful teacher who wanted all the boys he worked with to do as well as they possibly could. Michael was one of literally dozens to have benefited from that. The only conclusion he could come to was that the situation just wasn't as simple as people tried to make out.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Tuesday afternoon. As usual, Michael and Lorenzo were ensconced in the younger boy's bedroom.

"Something really weird happened this morning," Lorenzo said, grinning. "At the end of chemistry, Jenkins asked me to stay behind. I thought he was going to give me another bollocking, but he didn't. He told me he knew I was doing well in subjects like English and that I should keep doing that. As far as chemistry was concerned, I just needed to keep doing what I had been doing, behave myself, go through the motions and hand my exercise book in with the others so nobody would think I was getting special treatment. He said as long as I did that, he wouldn't bother me. I think that's pretty cool!"

"Yeah", Michael agreed. "But it happened because the message has started to go around that you're working hard and trying to do the best you can. Jenkins isn't stupid. He knows you won't pass the chemistry exam." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Now I've got something to tell you, but you've got to promise you'll keep calm."

"Okay, what is it?"

"You remember I told you about having sex when I was in the Boys' Brigade? Well, that wasn't the whole story. Before that, Uncle Jack and I had, you know . . . messed about together."

"Really? I wondered if you had. When you took me to his flat, I could see how much you liked him. It got me wondering."

"So you don't mind?"

"Why would I mind? He hasn't hurt you, has he?"

"No, of course not."

"Well that's alright then. Are you still doing it? It's okay if you are."

"No. We stopped when I met you. He was a bit disappointed, but we both knew it was the right time to stop. I didn't tell you at the beginning because we'd only just met. I didn't know how you'd react."

"Yeah. For all you knew, I could have spread it all over the school."

"But we know each other better now. Uncle Jack said it was the right time to tell you."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Then he gave me a surprise. He's just had the spare bedroom done up. It's really nice, double bed, everything." Michael paused, taking the door-key from his trouser pocket. "He says we can use it whenever we want. This is the key to get in."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! I couldn't believe it at first. He said he wanted us to have somewhere safe and comfortable where we could be ourselves."

"He hasn't rigged up a camera so he can watch us, has he?" Lorenzo asked, grinning.

"No, he wouldn't do that. I don't really understand it, but when I was with Chris, I suggested to Uncle Jack that I could bring Chris to the flat and the three of us could have some fun together. Jack told me to forget it. He said he wasn't going to get involved with any of my schoolfriends. It was too risky and it'd complicate things. Being able to use the room at Uncle Jack's will be really useful at weekends, when it's too cold to go the woods."

"Definitely," Lorenzo agreed. "But I'll still be able to come here after school, won't I?"

"Oh yes. It's just so much easier. Having a double bed's nice, but we don't really need one."

"Sure! Well, it sounds good to me!"

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

At the start of Thursday lunch break, Chris took Michael to one side.

"Next week, when we're off school," he said quietly. "Mark's very keen to have another get-together at your place."

"That should be okay. I'll have to ask, but I can't imagine Lorenzo will say no."

"Can we make it Thursday or Friday?"

Michael nodded his understanding. Chris was keen to do it, but didn't want to leave time for a repeat performance.

"I'll have to check," Michael told him. "But it should be okay."

"Mark's suggested that when we get to the serious bit, we do it the other way round," Chris went on, lowering his voice. "You know, with you and Lorenzo on the bed."

"That means you'll have to suck Lorenzo," Michael queried, raising an eyebrow. "Are you okay with that?"

"Sure! I mean, he sucked me, didn't he?"

"Fair enough! I'll ask. We'll meet up before that, won't we?"

"Oh definitely! We can meet every day if you want."

"Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you," Michael said.

"Yeah?"

"I've told Lorenzo about me and Uncle Jack. He was fine with it. But I don't want him finding out about me and Mr Faulkner."

"Well, I'm not going to say anything," Chris assured him. "I'm pleased you've moved on, and you and Lorenzo are really good for each other. I wouldn't want to mess things up for you."

"Thanks. D'you remember Troy Stainham?"

"Yes, of course."

"He and Lorenzo are in the same form."

"Oh, right! I'd better not mention that I know him then. I probably wouldn't have anyway, but you never know. It's better to be prepared."

"Thanks Chris," Michael said, smiling. "You're a star."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

It was Saturday afternoon. Michael and Lorenzo met at the older boy's house for the short cycle ride to Jack's flat. Arriving at the block of flats, they locked their bikes and made their way into the building. Taking out the key, Michael let them into the flat. They found it empty.

"Uncle Jack must have gone into town or something," Michael speculated.

He led the way to the spare bedroom.

"Wow!" Lorenzo enthused. "This is nice!"

They checked it out. As well as the bed, there were fluffy towels, paper towels and tubes of K-Y ready for them to use.

"Everything we could want," Lorenzo commented.

"Yeah," Michael responded. "We must make sure we leave it tidy afterwards."

After closing the curtains, they began to undress each other. Within a minute they were naked.

"Shall we actually get in?" Lorenzo suggested, "like we were going to sleep together?"

"Yeah!" Michael agreed. "That'll be fun!"

Having slipped under the covers, they snuggled up as they always did, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Very soon, the covers were pulled back as they sucked, licked and fondled. Finally, Lorenzo lay on his back, his legs pulled up so that his knees were close to his shoulders. With his cock buried in his boyfriend's bottom, Michael carefully lowered himself between the fifteen-year old's legs. As their lips met, he began to fuck. The intensity built with every thrust until they were kissing and fucking as though nothing else mattered, which right at that moment, it probably didn't. It was wonderful, glorious, uninhibited sex; the perfect expression of their feelings for each other.

With their passions satiated, they headed to the bathroom.

"Chris spoke to me on Thursday," Michael said. "He and Mark would like another four-way, if that's okay."

"Sure! When?"

"Thursday or Friday."

"Fine. Either day's okay with me."

"Mark's suggested that we do the last part the other way round," Michael said quietly. "So we'd be on the bed."

"I'd be kneeling across your chest, sitting on your cock," Lorenzo responded.

"And Chris will suck you off. Are you happy with that?"

"Definitely! Sounds terrific! We wouldn't do that here, would we?"

"No," Michael confirmed. "This place is for you and me. I'd rather the other boys didn't even know about it."

Returning to the second bedroom, they pulled on their clothes and tidied things up. It was time to go. To Michael's surprise, they found Jack sitting in the lounge, watching television.

"Hi Uncle Jack!" Michael said, smiling. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I think you were in the bathroom." Jack responded. "So how was it?"

"Wonderful!" Lorenzo enthused. "It was such a luxury, being able to stretch out and move around."

"Excellent!" Jack said smiling. "I love this flat, and in the long term it'll be a good investment. But that room's been doing nothing. I'm happy to see it being used."

"I've put the towels in the washing machine and the paper towels in the bin," Michael told him.

"Thanks!" Jack acknowledged.

"We didn't really make a mess," Lorenzo said, giving the man a cheeky grin. "It all ended up either on us or in us."

"Sounds good to me," Jack responded, grinning back.