By Pink Panther

Hi everybody! I'm delighted to say that after more than two years work, this really is the final chapter. Please read and enjoy! On this occasion, I really would appreciate your feedback on what is the longest story that I've posted. Please send your comments to me at and I'll get back to you as soon as I can.

Once I've had a break, one of the things that I might do is to write a sequel. It wouldn't be a continuous narrative like this, but a series of vignettes depicting life at Austerley Boys' Preparatory School at different points over a period of several years, not unlike the Snaphots series that followed Hartswood Priory. However, unlike Snapshots, it would be posted separately, under the title Austerley. If this is something that you'd like me to do, please let me know.

Finally, may I remind you that Nifty relies on readers' donations in order to keep operating as a free site. If you have not donated recently, please give as generously as you can.


August 1962

Michael's holiday in Torbay had been pleasant but uneventful. The weather had been good, and he'd spent time exploring both Paignton and Torquay, as well as lazing around on the beach. Unlike the previous year, however, he hadn't met anyone interesting.

In many ways, he was glad. He was still a horny teenager; temptation would have been hard to resist. Nor had he discovered a convenient hiding place like the one he'd found in South Pembrokeshire. Even if he had met someone, there might not have been anywhere safe for them to go. That would have been very frustrating. But most of all, the separation reminded him just how close he and Lorenzo had become. He'd missed his boyfriend terribly.

He'd told Lorenzo about the plan to visit the air-show before he went away. It was something for them to look forward to. While Michael was in Devon, Lorenzo had kept himself busy by taking most of the responsibility for looking after his dad. He knew that when his boyfriend returned, his sister Fran would be more than happy to pay him back for all the time she'd been able to spend with her schoolfriends.

And so it was that early on the Saturday evening of the August Bank Holiday weekend, the two teenagers, each carrying an overnight bag, had made their way to Jack's flat. Jack was pleased to see them. He was delighted with the way his nephew was growing up. When he'd begun having sex with the boy, he'd been concerned that it might have an adverse effect, but there was no sign that it had.

In fact, Michael was becoming the sort of young man that any parent would be proud of. Polite, reliable and industrious, the way he'd looked after Lorenzo had been nothing short of outstanding. Michael's boyfriend had been through some difficult times, and on occasion it still showed. For his part, Michael had been rock-solid in his support, a quality, Jack realised, that he'd inherited from his mum, who was always quite unwavering when things needed to be done. He checked his watch.

"It's quarter to nine," he commented. "Time we thought about getting to bed. We've got an early start tomorrow."

It was the signal that Michael and Lorenzo had been waiting for. They sauntered into what they had come to consider as their room, and began to undress. Having stripped down to their briefs, they took it in turns to use the bathroom. Finally, they were ready.

"Are we sleeping naked?" Lorenzo asked.

"How else?" Michael responded.

"It's just that I've never done that."

"Neither have I, but I've never slept with anyone before."

As they slid under the covers, Michael adjusted the alarm clock.

"What time have you set it for?" Lorenzo asked.

"Half past four."

"Isn't that a bit early?"

"Not if we want to have some more fun before we get up."

"Hmmm! I hadn't thought of that. Now come here!"

Putting the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet, Michael turned towards his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around Lorenzo's back. He drew the dark-haired boy in, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Their foreplay was both exquisite and spontaneous. They didn't need to think about what to do; it all came quite naturally, the intensity building steadily.

Finally, they were ready. Lying on his back, Lorenzo lifted his legs right back, holding his knees close to his shoulders. Kneeling on the bed, Michael crawled into position, guiding his cock onto the sixteen-year old's starfish. With one well-practised thrust, he penetrated his boyfriend's anal ring. After pausing for a moment, he steadily pushed it right in until his balls made contact with Lorenzo's bottom.

He looked down. Lorenzo was smiling beatifically, his brown eyes sparkling. Gradually, Michael lowered himself between his boyfriend's thighs, their open mouths meeting in a full-on lip-lock, Lorenzo wrapping his legs around the fourteen-year old's back. Within seconds, they were kissing and fucking as though nothing else even existed.

Lorenzo was ecstatic, as though on a completely different planet. It wasn't just that Michael was making wonderful, passionate love to him; when they'd finished, they would curl up together and go to sleep. That was what real boyfriends did, boyfriends that were totally committed to each other. More than that, when they woke up, they'd do it all again. It took the experience to a whole new level.

The intensity of their love-making increased inexorably until it was right off the scale. Lorenzo began to shudder, his starfish flaring and tightening around Michael's thrusting cock. His penis jerked into action, his teen spunk splattering their bodies. Moments later, his bottom was filled with his boyfriend's creamy load. It was the perfect expression of how close their relationship had become.

After another quick visit to the bathroom, they slipped back into bed. Wrapping his arms around Lorenzo's shoulders, Michael drew his boyfriend to him. Within a few seconds, they were fast asleep.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Michael was wakened by the alarm clock. Thrown off for a moment by the unfamiliar surroundings, he noticed Lorenzo, still dead to the world, exactly where he'd fallen asleep, his boyfriend's jet-black curls resting on his chest. An exultant wave washed over him. How could he have forgotten, even for a second? It had been the best ever.

After carefully disentangling himself, he headed to the bathroom. On his return, he found Lorenzo awake.

"Morning!" he said, smiling. "How are you?"

"Wonderful!" Lorenzo replied, beaming. "I slept like a log! How about you?"

"Same here!"

"Okay! I need a pee."

He trotted out of the room. Barely a minute later, he was back, slipping under the covers next to his still-naked boyfriend. They got straight to it, their foreplay building towards the inevitable climax.

"Would you like to fuck me this morning?" Michael asked, smiling.

"Sure! Can we do it like we did last night?"

"Sorry," Michael said, pulling a face. "I'm not as supple as you. I find that really uncomfortable."

"Okay!" Lorenzo conceded. "I know how you like it!"

Placing his pillow halfway down the bed, Michael covered it with a towel before lying face-down on top, his legs spread apart. Within seconds, his bottom was being severely pounded. He smiled with satisfaction. Everything about it was perfect: his boyfriend's heart beating against his spine, the aroma of teenage musk flooding his nostrils, that wonderful hard cock thrusting repeatedly over his sex-button, and his own appendage being rubbed against the towel. It was pure, undiluted pleasure.

Gradually, the tingling in his penis increased until it was almost painful. Suddenly he bucked wildly, his legs flailing, his fingers clawing at the bed. As he ejaculated onto the pillow, his boyfriend's warm spunk spurted into his bottom.

After several seconds, Lorenzo carefully pulled out. The boys turned to face each other.

"I've never started the day like that before!" Lorenzo said, grinning.

"Me neither!" Michael agreed.

Twenty minutes later, the boys bounced into the kitchen, unable to stop smiling. Jack was making breakfast.

"You two look like you've been enjoying yourselves," he commented.

"Yes, thanks!" they chorused.

Jack smiled too. For him, seeing the boys looking so happy was reward enough. They'd worked their socks off, each supporting the other. They deserved their happiness.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Although neither Michael nor Lorenzo would have suggested visiting an air show, they found the day far more to their liking than they'd expected. Not only were there displays by aircraft from the Second World War and up-to-the-minute jet fighters, they were able to see some the planes up close. It was a revelation; neither of them had ever seen anything like it.

To add to their enjoyment, the weather was perfect, warm and sunny without being uncomfortably hot. It was simply a wonderful day to be out of doors. Aware of the appetite of teenage boys, Jack generously supplemented the sandwiches and fruit that they'd brought with them by buying hot dogs and ice creams. It could hardly have been better.

But most important of all, the boyfriends were together. They couldn't hold hands, but being so far from home, they felt able to be closer than they would have done in an area in which people might have recognised them. As it was, apart from a few admirers that they didn't even notice, nobody paid them the slightest attention.

At half past five, the show was over and it was time to leave. As Jack had predicted, getting off the airfield was a very slow process, and even when they'd managed that, the traffic was very congested.

"Are you boys hungry?" Jack asked, as they made their way north.

"Starving!" Michael responded.

"Good!" Jack said, grinning. "I thought you would be."

A few minutes later, he drove into the car park of a large pub-restaurant.

"We've got a table booked for seven o'clock," Jack told them. "We're ten minutes early. I knew it would take us ages to get here."

Michael was overwhelmed. Not only had Jack taken them to the show, he'd paid for their tickets and bought them snacks. Now, it appeared, they'd be having dinner at his expense.

"Thanks, Uncle Jack," Michael said quietly. "You didn't need to do this."

"My treat," Jack said, smiling. "Today's been wonderful. It's been worth every penny."

By the time they'd finished their meal, it was nearly half past eight.

"So what would you like to do now?" Jack asked. "Stay over at mine or go straight home?"

"We'd like to stay at yours, if that's okay," Michael answered.

"That's fine," Jack said. "There's a phone in the lobby. I'll call your Mum, tell her we've been held up and I'll drop you back in the morning. Lorenzo, can you call your sister, tell her the same thing?"

"Sure!" Lorenzo replied, grinning mischievously.

Back at the flat, after thanking Jack for his generosity, Michael and Lorenzo made their way to bed. Any tiredness that they might have been feeling was trumped by how horny they were. Over the next half hour, they reprised what they'd done the previous night before. This didn't show a lack of imagination, simply that each of them recognised what the other needed. For them, this was the ultimate. It couldn't get any better.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

When Michael awoke, the sun was streaming into the bedroom through the gap in the curtains. He checked his watch. It was twenty to eight. Once again, Lorenzo was still asleep.

Lying back on his pillow, Michael absently stroked his boyfriend's chest, reflecting on how fortunate they were. Lorenzo opened an eye.

"Morning!" he said, grinning.

"Sleep okay?" Michael asked.

"Like a baby. By the looks of things, I haven't moved a muscle."

"Me too!"

After taking turns to use the bathroom, the boys returned to bed.

"So what would you like to do this morning?" Michael asked. "You know, before we go home."

"Well, right now, I'd like to just lie here for a bit," "Lorenzo responded, "just soaking it up. We're not in a hurry, are we?"

"I don't think so."

"I know I'm not. I told Fran to expect me when she sees me. It's fine; she owes me some time. While you were away, I did most of the work. With Chris away as well, I didn't have anything better to do."

"Mark was at home. You could have gone to his place."

"I could but I thought it'd probably be better if I didn't."

"Why? I thought you liked Mark."

"I do. That's why I stayed away."

Michael felt his face burning with embarrassment. He understood exactly what Lorenzo was saying.

"Thanks," he whispered, scarcely able to get the word out.

"You're welcome," Lorenzo replied, snuggling a little closer.

Neither boy could have said at what point their sexual foreplay started. It began quite spontaneously and developed in the same way.

"You still haven't said what you'd like to do," Michael commented. "Do you want to fuck me again?"

"No, I'd like you to fuck me."

"You mean like last night?"

"No, like yesterday morning, only with you on top."

"You mean the hard way?"

"Yeah, the hard way," Lorenzo confirmed, his eyes sparkling. "The harder the better!"

It wasn't what Michael had expected, but he wasn't objecting. If his boyfriend wanted to be fucked halfway to oblivion, he was happy to oblige. In the event, it was primal, animalistic, their orgasms explosive; exactly what they both needed.

It was nine o'clock when the three of them gathered for breakfast.

"Thanks for doing this for us," Michael said warmly, smiling at his uncle. "We know how lucky we are, having you to help us."

"Very largely, you've made your own luck," Jack responded. "You've put in the work. You deserve the reward."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

For Alex, the summer holiday had gone splendidly. After attending the course on using active learning methods, he'd prepared schemes of work for all ten maths groups, plus explanatory notes for the work that he wanted Geoff Kingsman to do with the top first-year and second-year groups. In addition, he'd ordered supplies for the new school year, and been into the school to make sure that they were safely stowed away. He was ready to go.

He hadn't gone without sex either. As Hartfield had been around for most of the holiday, they'd got together three or four times a week. The lad was great sex and excellent company. Alex's one regret was that he hadn't met him sooner.

In the middle of August, Alex had been into Woodchurch to collect the A-level results. All the boys he'd taught had passed, most with good grades, the results being very similar to those he'd produced the year before. He was happy with that.

Now he was going again, visiting the school that had been his life for three years for what would probably be the last time. Having prepared two classes for the O-level exam, he did have a few butterflies.

After parking the car, he headed into the building. Fifth-Year boys were milling around, some waiting to receive their results from Mr Cope, others, having already been given their results, chatting excitedly.

As he approached, Lorenzo Parker peeled off from the group of boys he'd been talking to and headed towards the exit. The teenager's confident demeanour told Alex exactly what he needed to know. Striding across, he cut the lad off.

"Well, young man," he said brightly. "How have you done?"

"Very well, thank you sir," Parker answered politely.

"May I see?"

Parker handed him the results slip, showing grade ones for English Language, English Literature, French and History, a grade two for Latin and grade threes for maths and geography, with failure grades for his other three subjects.

"Seven excellent O-levels," Alex observed, returning the slip. "That's a very sound base to build on."

"Actually, I think it will be eight," Parker corrected. "I did O-level Italian at Reading College. I'll be disappointed if I haven't got a grade one."

"I take it you're bilingual?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, congratulations on your results. I have to say that it didn't seem at all likely at the time when I was teaching you."

"No sir. I was going through a difficult time. I didn't deal with it very well."

"The important thing is that you've pulled yourself through it and shown what you can do, so well done. That takes guts."

"Thank you, sir. I have had a lot of help."

"Well, I'd better let you go," Alex concluded. "Best of luck with your A-levels!"

"Thanks, sir!"

Alex watched as the boy strode out into the sunshine, reflecting that the transformation, from troubled, difficult adolescent to confident, successful young man, was nothing short of outstanding. And it was the lad's relationship with Whitney that had been the catalyst. Without all the help and support that the younger boy had had given him, the change simply wouldn't have happened.

As soon as Parker had disappeared from view, Alex headed to Neville Dryden's office.

"It seems we can't keep you away," the Deputy Head commented. "Your classes have both done very well," he added, handing over the summary sheet. "I doubt that Mr Bartlett knows what a difficult act he has to follow."

Alex bit his tongue, resisting the temptation to say that Mr Bartlett would soon find out, because the boys would tell him. But the results were impressive. All the 57 boys he'd taught had passed, most with very good grades. In his fifth-year group, there were five grade ones, including Laws and Stainham. In the fourth-year top set there were seven grade ones and nine grade twos. He was especially pleased that Hartfield, who had struggled early on, had obtained a grade three. In the Additional Maths exam, Bradshaw had obtained a grade one, alongside boys like Calladine who were three years his senior. It was quite an achievement.

After saying goodbye to Mr Dryden, he strode out of the office, only to bump into Neil Fleming.

"I thought you'd be here," Neil said brightly. "You've done us proud again. Both sets of results are outstanding."

"I thought that the fourth-year top set had always achieved a one hundred per cent pass rate?" Alex queried.

"Oh, we've always achieved one hundred per cent from the boys we've entered," Neil explained. "But in previous years, we've dropped two or three boys after the pre-Christmas exams because it looked like they weren't going to make it. You wouldn't have known because we don't publicise it, and I didn't move any of them into your group. Anyway, this year, I felt we didn't need to, and I was right. You make such a difference with the weaker candidates. Two grade-fives, everyone else grade four and above; that's far better than we've done before."

"Thanks!" Alex said appreciatively.

"And don't worry about Bradshaw. We'll look after him."

After saying goodbye to Neil, Alex headed for home, happy in the knowledge that he'd done everything that the school could have expected of him. There were aspects he would miss, especially working with Bradshaw, but after three successful years, his career at Woodchurch Boys' Grammar School was finally over.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After going home to change out of his school uniform, Lorenzo cycled to Michael's house. He rang the bell. Michael came hurtling down the stairs and opened the front door. Lorenzo sauntered in, a big smile on his face. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he took out his results slip and handed it over.

For Michael, the joy and the relief were overwhelming. Lorenzo had achieved everything they could have hoped for. He could not have been happier if they'd been his results.

"This is fantastic!" he breathed. "You've done it!"

"Can we go to that place in the woods?" Lorenzo suggested. "You know, where you took me last summer."

"The kid who showed it to me might be there," Michael warned.

"Please Mike," Lorenzo persisted.

Given the circumstances, Michael simply couldn't refuse. If Pennington did show up with somebody, they'd deal with it.

"Okay," he agreed.

Twenty minutes later, they were ensconced in their chosen hiding place, jeans and underpants puddled around their ankles, Michael pounding his boyfriend's bottom as though the world were about to end.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

September 1962

It was Sunday morning. That afternoon, the boys would return to Austerley School for the start of the new school year. In a couple of hours, Alex would drive over. After he and his colleagues had had lunch, he would supervise the boys of Marlbrook House as they returned, and welcome the first-year boys who were coming to the school for the first time.

Over the previous few weeks, Alex had learned more about the school and the people he'd be dealing with. His house captain would be a boy called Cunningham, who would also be vice-captain of the school rugby team. Cunningham was, from what he'd been told, a good student, a nice lad, and well respected by the other boys.

In addition to Beechcroft House, run by English specialist Keith Johnstone, and his house, Marlbrook, there was a third boarding house, Stanlake, located in the school's original buildings. Stanlake's housemaster was deputy head Reg Pearce. His house captain, Hollister, would also captain the rugby team and be overall school captain. An excellent student who hoped to win a scholarship to a top public school, Hollister had the reputation of being a young man that the other boys didn't mess with. That, however, was about as much as Alex knew. He would need to find out the rest as he went along.

Realising how busy he was going to be once the boys began to arrive, Alex had spent a large part of the previous day installing himself in the housemaster's apartment. Everything he was going to need was now there, tidily put away so that he knew where to find it, which would enable him to focus totally on his new charges.

A few things in his life would stay the same. As he'd arranged for Tuesdays to be one of his night's off, he would maintain his membership of the choral society. He and Joanne would continue to go out. They both knew that their relationship wasn't going any further, but as that seemed to suit both of them, Alex saw no imperative to end it.

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

Alex arrived at Austerley at ten past twelve. After a brief visit to his apartment, he made his way to the staff room, where a meeting was due to be held. After chatting to some of his new colleagues for a few minutes, the Headmaster entered and the meeting began.

After formally introducing the two new staff member, John Bell, who would be teaching history and geography, and Alex, he ran through some routine matters before reaching his closing remarks.

"Gentlemen," he intoned. "The new school year is upon us. Let's all remember that our purpose here is to get the best out of every boy that comes to this school. To do that, we need to provide them with help and encouragement. We must focus on the positive, emphasising what they can do, not what they can't do. Our biggest enemy is bullying. It goes without saying that boys who are being bullied or picked on will not thrive. And so, if we suspect that there is any bullying going on, however minor, we must not look the other way. It must be thoroughly investigated and where bullying is uncovered, it will be firmly dealt with. Since my appointment here, this school has gained and enviable reputation as a school where bullying is not tolerated. But the price of peace is eternal vigilance. We cannot allow our guard to drop. So let's get to it and give it our best. And if there are any problems, please come and see me. I am here to help."

With that, the meeting broke up and they headed to the refectory where lunch was about to be served. In addition to the table where the masters sat, there was a second table occupied by twelve boys, several of whom Alex recognised as having been in the class he'd taught when he'd come for interview, though the only one he could name was McKenzie, Beechcroft's new house captain whom he'd met shortly before the summer holidays.

"Their parents have arranged for them to come in early so that they can help us this afternoon," Keith Johnstone explained. "It makes things easier for us, and gives them a sense of responsibility. That's important. When the boys get to your house, Cunningham and another of your Upper Fourth boys will help you to get them settled in."

"I see," Alex said, smiling. "If each house operates like that, we've accounted for six of the boys at the other table. What will the rest of them be doing?"

"Oh, they'll be part of the welcoming committee," Keith informed him, "ensuring that everyone gets to the right place. Of course, staff without house responsibilities help with that too."

Alex nodded his understanding. Things seemed to be well-organised, and he liked the idea of having the older boys involved. He was keen to see how well it would work in practice. As lunch ended, two of the older boys came across to him. One was tall and athletic, definitely a good-looking lad. The other, a little smaller, was more chunkily built and rather ordinary as far as looks were concerned.

"Sir," the taller boy said. "You're Mr Faulkner, aren't you? I'm Cunningham and this is Thompson. We're going to be helping you get the boys settled into the house."

"Excellent!" Alex said, smiling. "Pleased to meet you. I guess we'd better get over there."

"Sir," Cunningham said as they headed towards Marlbrook. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Of course," Alex responded.

"If you stay by the first-year dorms, Thompson will help you with the new boys. I'll patrol the rest of the building to make sure nobody's being stupid."

"That sounds an excellent idea," Alex agreed. "If any boys are misbehaving, you're to report it to me immediately."

"Yes sir."

"As well as the first-years," Alex went on, turning to Thompson, "we've got two other new boys, one in third-year and one in lower fourth. They've each been allocated to the appropriate four-bed dorm. And I've taken advice on who to put in with them, friendly, easy-going boys who'll make them feel welcome."

"That's good sir," Thompson said. "To start with, all new boys will be sent to the first-year dorms. I can take the two older ones from there."

Alex was impressed. During his time at the cathedral school, the first day of a school year had always involved a certain amount of confusion. There seemed to be none of that at Austerley. In the event, the afternoon ran like clockwork. The boys were lively but well-behaved. There were no reports of trouble. Cunningham and Thompson were quietly efficient in directing boys to where they needed to be and helping the new ones settle in. Alex spent his time reassuring a number of rather anxious parents and equally anxious new boys. By five o'clock, all the boys were there and the last of the parents had left.

"Well done!" Alex congratulated his two assistants. "That went very well. Let's give ourselves half an hour to relax. Cunningham, would you get a message round to say that we'll have a house meeting in the recreation room at half past five. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my apartment. Right! I'll leave you to it!"

Returning to his apartment, Alex settled into his armchair. As well as things had gone, he'd been on his feet talking to parents for three hours. He wasn't used to that. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Going to answer it, he found music master Julian standing there.

"Thanks for coming over," Alex said warmly, directing his colleague onto the small sofa.

"So how did it go?" Julian asked.

"Remarkably well. This place is far better organised than my prep school was. You mentioned that you might be able to help me out with . . . , you know."

"Yes. There a couple of boys that I think you might be interested in. First of all, there's Shelbourne, who's in upper fourth. Last year he had an older friend, so he's quite experienced, and he's good friends with your house captain, Cunningham."

"Cunningham and Shelbourne are in the same dorm. Does that mean that there's some bed-hopping going on?"

"I'm not certain, but I think there probably is."

"I see!"

"The other Marlbrook boy that I know would be amenable is Lewis, who's in third year; cute little blond. He'll be completely new to it, of course, so if you do want to make him your boy, you'll need to take your time. And when it comes to doing the deed, you'll need to get one of the older boys to get him ready for you."

"Oh, I like to take a boy's cherry myself," Alex said blandly.

"I would strongly advise you not to do that," Julian said firmly. "It's not the way we do things here. If you're of at least average endowment, as I'd assume you are, you cannot deflower a boy of Lewis's size without hurting him. I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

"Fair point," Alex conceded. "I'm a good average, nothing exceptional."

"Then you understand what I mean. Now obviously it's up to you, but my recommendation is that you should take Shelbourne as your boy for this year. He's a lovely lad, an excellent musician and very nice looking. Now your house captain will be looking for a younger friend. You might suggest to him that he should ask Lewis. If that works out, in twelve months' time, Lewis will be nicely ready for you."

"I see. Given that your boy's just left, aren't you interested in Lewis?"

"I was, but as his housemaster, you have first refusal. In any case, there's another third-year boy, Morgan, who's as dark as Lewis is blond, just as cute and equally amenable. He's in Stanlake, so he'll be my pick."

"I take it that Reg Pearce is not of our persuasion?"

"Indeed not. But Reg is very sensible. For the boys in his house, as long as it's fully consensual, not over-promiscuous and doesn't involve any first or second-years, he looks the other way."

"If I do as you recommend, would I be able to dabble with Lewis before next year?"

"Not officially, of course, but you might. Obviously, you'd have to keep it very quiet. I wouldn't want to know about it."

"I understand."

"Meet me in the staff room tomorrow morning break, once you've had a chance to find out who's who. If you've made a decision by then, you can tell me what you want to do."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

The house meeting went well, the boys hanging onto every word that Alex said. He knew that it was early days, but the signs were very promising. After supper, the boys had an hour's free time. Alex spent the time going around the recreation room and the dormitories, asking the boys to introduce themselves.

He soon discovered who Shelbourne was; a little over five feet tall, slim and leggy, with bright blue eyes and a dusting of freckles over his nose. His longish fair hair, supposedly brushed back off his face, fell attractively over the right side of his forehead. The boy was every bit as alluring as Julian had suggested. A little later, he met Lewis. Once again, Julian had described him perfectly: small, cute and flirty, with an unruly mop of loose blond curls.

Almost before he knew it, it was eight o'clock; time for him to begin supervising the boys as they showered before bedtime. He paid particular attention to Lewis and Shelbourne, both of whom he found even more stimulating when naked than when dressed in their school uniform.

It was a tricky decision. On pure physical attraction, he would have liked to make Lewis his boy immediately, but it wasn't that simple. At only 4'5", and slim without being skinny, he was a little too small. It would be ages before he was ready to be fucked, and even then, in order to comply with the school's traditions, he would need to employ an older boy like Cunningham to deflower him. Thinking about it, he realised that as he was new to the school, Julian's recommendation would be by far the more sensible choice.

At break the following morning, Alex sought out the music master.

"I've decided to follow your advice," he said quietly. "Shelbourne it is."

"I'm sure that's the right choice," Julian responded. "I'll be seeing him at lunchtime. Shall I tell him to come to your apartment after supper?"

"Yes," Alex agreed. "That will be splendid. Thanks!"

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

After supper, Alex returned to his apartment. The first day of teaching had gone very well, and now he had something special to look forward to. A little after seven o'clock, there was a knock on the door of his apartment. He opened it to find Shelbourne standing there.

"You asked to see me, sir," the youngster said.

"Yes," Alex confirmed.

He looked the twelve-year old up and down. The boy's thighs, though long and slim, had a nice bit of shape to them, a little muscle definition that nicely filled out the lad's rather brief grey shorts. Alex's eyes homed in on them, the obvious bulge at the front indicating that Shelbourne knew why he'd been summoned, and was more than happy to be there.

"Please come in!" he said, smiling.

Having closed and locked the door behind them, Alex strolled across to his armchair.

"I understand from Mr Temple-Reid that last year you had an older friend, but that he has now left," he said quietly, taking his seat.

"Yes sir."

"Well, as Mr Temple-Reid may have told you, as you no longer have an older friend, I'd like to invite you to be my boy. Would you like that?"

"Yes, sir. Sir, you know I'm friends with Cunningham? If I'm your boy, will I have to stop that?"

"Cunningham's a good lad and I'm sure a very good friend. As long as he's happy with you being my boy, I see no reason why you shouldn't continue doing what you're doing."

"Oh, we all like you, sir! This morning's maths lesson was really exciting, like when you came to teach us before. I'm sure Cunningham will be fine with it. I told him I was coming here. I didn't actually say why, but I'm sure he knew."

"Excellent!" Alex purred, licking his lips.

"Are we going to do something now, sir?"

"That lump in your shorts tells me that you might be rather disappointed if we didn't."

"Yes sir."

Having not cum since he fucked Hartfield more than forty-eight hours earlier, Alex was more than ready. With Shelbourne standing in front of him, a little to one side, he reached up, undid the clip at the top of the boy's shorts and pulled down the zip. Shelbourne wiggled his hips, causing them to fall around his ankles. Alex was entranced, the twelve-year old's thighs absolute perfection.

"Pull up your shirt," he intoned, continuing his usual mantra.

Shelbourne readily complied, exposing his skimpy white briefs. Easing the elastic away from the lad's stomach, Alex skinned them down the youngster's legs. The boy's slim, uncut four-inch penis was pointing skywards, the foreskin still just covering the tip. Although a pair of well-formed balls hung immediately beneath, the lad had not a trace of pubic hair.

"Very nice!" Alex cooed, easing the boy's foreskin back a little. "Can you cum?"

"Yes sir. Not very much, but I can."

"Okay, stand right in front of me."

With Shelbourne in position, Alex leaned forwards, taking the youngster's prick fully into his mouth. It tasted like heaven. Sucking it steadily, he slipped his hand between the twelve-year old's legs. He gently tickled the lad's perineum, slowly working his way back until he located the boy's rosebud.

"When you were with your older friend" he queried, carefully releasing Shelbourne's penis. "Did you like having his cock in your bottom?"

"Yes sir."

"And you like taking Cunningham's?"

"Yes sir."

Alex stood up.

"Well, why don't you find out what I've got for you?" he suggested.

Having opened his housemaster's fly, Shelbourne reached inside and took out the man's rampant prong.

"It's big, isn't it, sir?"

"Big enough. Now we'd better get you ready to take it."

Alex bent Shelbourne over the chair, the youngster's hands resting on the seat. Kneeling down behind, he set to work licking out the lad's rosebud. He soon realised that it was a new experience for the lad, the twelve-year old's moans and gurgles a clear signal that he was enjoying it, as boys who liked being fucked invariably did.

After a short while, Alex stood up, replacing his tongue first by one well-lubricated finger, then by two, the housemaster twisting them around with the familiar corkscrew action.

"Are you ready for my cock?" he enquired, allowing both digits to slide smoothly out.

"I think so sir."

Having coated his penis in K-Y, Alex shuffled in close, guiding it onto the boy's starfish. With one determined thrust, he forced it in.

"Oooh, sir!" Shelbourne exhaled, gasping for air.

"Just relax," Alex said soothingly. "You can do it."

As the youngster's anal ring began to adjust, Alex held him around the tops of his thighs, steadily reaming the twelve-year old's velvety tunnel.

"Lovely tight little boy-hole!" he whispered.

He drove over the youngster's knobbly prostate.

"Ohhh, sir!" Shelbourne expostulated, the boy's penis twitching with a life of its own.

Moments later, Alex bottomed out, his pubic hair squished up against the lad's silk-smooth bottom. After a moment's pause, he set to work. After more than two days' abstinence, and with Shelbourne being so wonderfully tight, he didn't need to exert himself. Even just moving gently back and forth, he soon found himself getting close. Reaching down, he slid his fingers lengthways along the twelve-year old's penis, wanking the boy with a milking action.

"Ohhh! Ohhh sir!" Shelbourne gasped, little drops of boy-juice squirting into his housemaster's palm.

The associated anal spasms had their inevitable effect.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Alex enthused. "Now take what I've got for you!"

Thrusting in one final time, his cock jerked wildly, rope after rope of hot, creamy spunk spurting into Shelbourne's bottom. After a lengthy pause, Alex gently withdrew.

"Are you okay?" he enquired.

"Yes, sir," Shelbourne assured him. "That was fantastic!"

The boy was leaking profusely, semen trickling down his legs.

"You'd better go the toilet," Alex urged. "It's through there."

Pulling his underpants and shorts up to his knees, Shelbourne shuffled out of the room. A few minutes later, he reappeared, fully dressed.

"When will you want to see me again, sir?" he asked, smiling.

"Not tomorrow," Alex responded, rather taken aback to find the boy making the running. "It's my night off. Mr Kingsman will be looking after you. But Wednesday would be good."

"Sir, will I be able to come and sleep in your bed?"

"I suppose so, if you want to. But you'd have to come here after the other boys are asleep."

"That's okay, sir. I could come here on Wednesday night about eleven o'clock. I'll give a secret knock so that you know it's me; three taps, a pause, then two taps."

"Okay, but we'll need to get you back well before the other lads wake up. We can't make things too obvious."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"And we won't be able to do it too often," Alex cautioned. "Once a week, maybe twice. You need your beauty sleep."

"That'll be fine sir."

"And you're sure that Cunningham won't be a problem?"

"Sir, as long as he can still fuck me, he won't mind at all."

0 o 0 o 0 o 0

With Shelbourne heading back to his dorm, Alex settled into his armchair. He'd had a wonderful day. He'd taught all his eight classes. In every one, the boys had been eager and responsive, and with only fifteen in a class, he'd already started to get to know them. Raising the standard of mathematics would still be a challenge, but it was one he was totally confident he could meet.

That, however, had been completely overshadowed by what had just occurred. On what was only his second day at the school, he'd fucked one of the sexiest, most delightful boys he'd ever encountered. Better still, Shelbourne was now `his boy', already committed to him in a way that none of the Woodchurch boys had ever been. He could hardly believe it. The life that he'd dreamed about for so long was finally his.