1. This story may contain descriptions of sexual acts between boys and/or men and boys so if this is not to your tastes, please leave now. If you are under age, or if it is illegal in your state or country to read or possess material like this then it is in your own interest to leave now.
2. The author owns all copyright to this story. A copy has been placed in this archive for your enjoyment. Please do not distribute it to any news groups and/or other web sites without permission of the author. Authorisation for the free transmission of my unaltered writings can be requested from the author.
3. This story is pure fiction. Any resemblance to any individuals, real or fictional, living or dead is purely coincidental.
4. The author neither encourages nor condones any acts of illicit or underage sex, nor does he encourage any of the unsafe sexual practices described herein.
5. This story is a parody of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs by the brothers Grimm, which is in the public domain, and is in now way associated with any property of the Disney Corporation.
6. You can e-mail your constructive comments to at: g_day@hotmail.com

There was bad news and good news concerning luncheon at "Once-upon-a-time" that glorious Sunday in midsummer.

The bad news related to the second Mrs. Whyte's determination to go for the most bold of her experimental menus to date -- Dogfish-in-a-Frog-Liver-Sauce; followed by Sheeps'-Brain-and-Mars-Bar Stew; finishing with, that old family favourite, Raspberry-and-Oxblood-Ripple Ice-cream Surprise.

The good news concerned the fine weather -- this had made it possible for the good doctor to set up the long table in the orchard behind the cottage for lunch. Even better news was that everything had gone wrong with Mrs. Whyte's culinary adventure.

Firstly, the dogfish had bitten her finger - the fish had been just that bit too fresh, she concluded.

Then Pricilla, - proved too squeamish to remove the frogs' livers. The stupid girl had allowed the live creatures to escape to the fishpond through the open kitchen window! When her mum yelled at her, Pricilla, who had been excessively weepy since her date on the Friday night - Dick had snored his way throughout "Toy Story II" - turned over her fat lower lip in a particularly ugly pout.

Finally when the Mrs. Whyte, doused the Sheep-brain-and-Mars-bar stew in too much brandy and flambéed the lot leaving the kitchen smelling like a pagan altar on burnt-offering day!

Eventually, even Mrs. Whyte had to admit defeat and ordered in some Chinese takeaways.

Richard Flaunting-Flasher, looking pale from lack of sleep, had been the first to arrive.

"It is both and honour and a privilege to be invited back to your home, ma'am." He said in his most obsequious manner, causing Snowy to feel rather ill and Pricilla to start her lamentations once more.

"On what lovely manners," Mrs Whyte twittered, "now you two lovebirds take a turn in the rose garden, while I get luncheon completed," she said

"Come my sweet," said Richard in a rather pathetic costume-drama way, " take my arm and permit me to squire you around the garden..."

As Snowy had surmised, Dr. Whyte was very taken with Dr. Yang, whom he knew from the young man's articles in the Lancet. The two had disappeared into the Doctor's study where they were comparing ideas and experiences.

This left Snowy to look after the guests while Mrs. Whyte tried to recover her composure with the aid of an exceptionally large gin and tonic. By the time Reverend Prim arrived, he found no less than five anoraks hanging in the hall -- young Snowy was collecting Anorak friends in much the same way that little Peter collected stamps it seemed.

Bashful, Dopey and Grumpy were helping Snowy lay the table for the family's first alfresco meal of the summer when the Vicar of St Giles joined them in the garden.

"Well, well, your circle of anorak wearing friends is growing steadily," said the Vicar very pleasantly.

"Yeah `e `as got a new mate who is a Doc, and one who is always `alf asleep, so we reckon we can call `im Sleepy! All `e needs now is a Sneezy and a `appy, and `e is all set -- then `e really will be Snowy Whyte and the Seven Anoraks." The Vicar and the four friends all laughed heartily at Grumpy's witticism!

"None of us have met his two new friend yet," Peter Pratt confessed in his singsong voice, "but I did see that long-slab of misery asleep on the sofa one time."

"None of us likes Flaunting-Flasher," said Bashful, speaking for them all, "he has treated Snowy very badly and we can't imagine why he has been invited to lunch."

"Well, he is trying to get his fingers fishy from vat fat bird's twat, ain't he?"

"Oh gentlemen, let us trust Snowy, he knows what he is doing... after all, he always does."

"Hmm... well... we shall see. I could head-butt him an' sort I'm out if it goes sour today."

"Tell me, Mr. Smyke," the Vicar continued, trying to change the subject "have you thought any more about the requests I have had from several mothers in the Parish?" The old gentleman turned to Snowy and explained: "several have sons who have a problem with stuttering and they have asked if you and Mr Smyke might be prepared to try out your cure on them -- after all it accomplished wonders with young Osbert here."

"Oh... err..." Osbert blushed deeply, clearly his uncle had not heard it was Smyke's hot cock up his bottom that had done the trick! He was about to spell it out, but Grumpy was too quick off the mark and added:

"Well Vic, I reckon you can tell `em, if va young lads can stand va pain, then I think I can put up wiv va shit!" and so saying, he rubbed his crotch to make his meaning entirely explicit.

"Well...err..." the Vicar blushed and stammered as he felt his ancient penis lurch to attention under his cassock, "I think I had best refer them back to the power of prayer."

"Talking about a good go, I `ope you are over your no-sex diet," said Smyke rather grumpily to Snowy "its me bleeding birthday next week, and I ain't missing out on me Birthday Bonk!"

"Birthday Bonk! What a charming idea," said the vicar wishing he was sixty years younger and not subject to a vow of chastity, "and how old will you be, Mr. Smyke?

"Sweet Sixteen an' I been kissed all over, Vicar!" Grumpy, still a real smart-arse, teased the horny old gent.

"Oh you must be Smyke," said and unfamiliar voice behind the lad "on which date, did you say, is it your birthday?" The group spun around to confront a short, rather nerdy-looking Chinese lad with black spiky hair. He wore old-fashioned grey-flannel trousers, a pair of outside black-rimmed specs and a white short-sleeve shirt the top pocket of which was crammed with the average content of a small office!

"I bleedin' didn't say nuffink! What business is it of yours, anyway?" he asked, on the defensive as usual when he was surprised -- none of the lads, other than Snowy, had met Dr. Yang yet.

"Well, I have heard you are a Windsor Wanderers fan and I thought, if you could come over to the laboratory on...." The Chinese lad retrieved a pocket-organiser from his top pocket, which was stuffed with pens and calculators and inspected it, "...say Wednesday afternoon at about one o' clock?"

"Are yer `aving me on, mate?" Smyke asked darkly.

"Well I thought you might enjoy it." The Asian Lad beamed back.

"How come you would do somefing for me, like?" Smyke snarled.

"Well, let us say, any friend of Snowy Whyte is a friend of mine." And the young Doctor hugged the lad around his shoulder and ruffled his white-blond hair. The situation, thus defused, Snowy proceeded to introduce the young Asian lad to the Vicar and his other friends.

Young Peter Pratt was the last one to shake Dr. Yang's hand very solemnly. He seemed to be studying the smooth-featured Chinese face very carefully, then slowly asked his question, measuring each word carefully:

"Are you really a Doctor? You look much to young to be a Doctor."

"I am a double Ph.D." the fellow explained smiling at the sombre looking eight-year-old.

"Oh did that hurt?" Dopey smarted at the thought of some awful thing happening to the nice lad.

"No, silly Billy, it is a university degree." Dr. Yang loved the way the sprinkling of freckles on the little boy's nose wrinkled as he spoke.

"But you look so young...."

"I am seventeen and a half," Lon Yang admitted to his slow-witted inquisitor.

"Oh," said Dopey, sadly, "then you must be very, very clever. I suppose I would be too stupid to ever be your friend?"

"I wouldn't say that. I think cute boys are far nicer than clever and pretty boys." Lon Yang said, with an apologetic look at Snowy Whyte whom they all knew was both pretty and clever and as close to an angel as one could expect to find in Berkshire.

To all but the most hard-hearted spectator, it was clear that an invisible chemistry was working marvels between the slow-witted boy and the exceeding bright older lad.

"Can I call you Doc?" Peter Pratt asked.

"You can call me anything you like...." Lon Yang blushed under his overly large glasses, "as long as you call me very day!" A very happy Dopey flashed Doc a view of his big buckteeth and the shiny wire braces that reigned them in.

The Vicar blew his nose very loudly into his large handkerchief, interrupting this dialog - he was a proper old softy when it came to lads in love.

"Oh... err," said Bashful, very abashed.

Even tough-as-boots Damien Smyke seemed to have a speck of something in his eye, which caused it to water.

"Well it's not Christmas yet, but Santa seems to have answered at least one of my wishes!" Snowy said, beaming with gratification -- he loved playing cupid! Then, he appeared to remember something and he asked the young Doc: "Where is my dad?"

"Hmm..." The Chinese lad rearranged his specs on the tip of his nose nervously, then he explained that the good doctor had adjourned to the "Admiral's Bum-Boy", his favourite pub, for a spot of non-toxic luncheon, under the pretext of an emergency medical call."

"Nice bloke, leaving us ta gets poisoned alone!" Smyke protested. "Well ya bo sux to `im is wot I says!"

"Oh my, things are just not the same as they used to be," said the Vicar sadly missing the happier days when the first Mrs. Whyte had placed good wholesome food on the Sunday table. " My friend, the good doctor spends too much time at the `Admiral's Bum-Boy' its can't de doing his liver any good."

"It probably ain't doing va admiral's boy's bum much good either!" said Smyke, endeavouring to cheer the group up.

"Someone should have told him her luncheon was ruined and that she has sent out for a Chinese..." Bashful said a little melancholy. Unfortunately, Dopey seemed to have misunderstood this and looked rather worried:

"They are not thinking of cooking Doc for lunch, are they?" he asked apprehensively.

"No, Dopey, you can eat him all by yourself." Said Snowy, giving his wee friend a very meaningful wink.

"Oh... err," added Bashful.

Just then the oddest couple in the county come forth from under the rose-covered arbour that separated the rose garden from the lawn -- it was Flaunting-Flasher and Pricilla, looking like a perambulating `if'-- a very long `f' and a very short and dumpy `letter-i'!

They held hands in a forlorn attempt to look like the happy couple -- but it was clear Pricilla had been weeping and Dick was deeply uneasy and embarrassed.

"Mr. Flaunting-Flasher," said the Vicar coldly. "Have you done what we agreed, yet?" If the earth had opened up and consumed him at that point, Flaunting-Flasher would have been ecstatically happy -- but it did not.

"Err... no Reverend Prim, not yet..." he said shamefaced and praying that Pricilla would not ask him what this was all about. "But... but I will..."

"Well remember I am watching you, my boy!" He said fixing Dick with a beady ecclesiastical eye.

Smyke bounded up to the "happy" couple, snarled at Pricilla in a very unpleasant manner, then looked up into Dick's troubled face. Flaunting-Flasher went pale -- he had suspected that death might be preferable to lunch at the Whyte's, but here WAS death itself, looking up at him in the shape of the notorious Damien Smyke!

"We was just sayin' that there is a Chinese on the menu today," said Smyke cruelly, "how do you fancy a bit of vat then?"

Richard Flaunting-Flasher blushed deeply, and then he flashed an accusatory scowl at Snowy, who had clearly told his mates that he, Richard, had a thing about Chinese lads. As he did so his eye caught sight of the others in the group and one in particular -- Dr. Lon Yang.

"So tell us, you pillock, do you want a bit a Chinky-Chong then?" Grumpy persisted, but Richard ignored him. The effect of seeing a real live Chinese lad in the company had an almost electric effect on the lanky nerd -- he let go of Pricilla hand as if she had just been diagnosed with the plague; his shoulders straightened; and a kind of light returned into his eyes.

"Oh I d-d-don't think we h-h-have been in-in-introduced..." He thrust his long hand out towards the Chinese lad, "I a-a-am Richard Flaunting-Flasher."

"Well I am Lon Yang, but you can call me Doc." A strange look passed over Dick's face, but he shrugged it off, and he continued to dance attendance on the short Asian lad.

"Can I f-f-fix you a d-d-drink?" Pricilla was pouting even more now than she had done in the last three days -- her lower lip could easily have been mistaken for a blimp!

"Yeah, brilliant!" Smyke interjected, still baiting the lanky lad. "I-say, I-say, Champers all round, chaps?"

"Leave my Dickey alone you... you thug!" Pricilla furiously waved her chubby fist in Smyke's face.

"Cor, yer better watch it luv, yer will give yerself a wobbly!" Things were not going well -- the lads could all see this.

"He is my Dickey! Mine!" Smyke's eyes narrowed into nasty little slits. Pricilla had made him really, really spitting-mad. The lads prepared themselves for what was to follow.

"Oh... err!" said Bashful nervously he knew what that look on Smyke's face meant.

"Wot makes yer think its yer Dickey, from wot we `ear its va `ole bleeding world except yer wot `as seen `is dickey."

"Take that b-b-back," said Flaunting-Flasher, but he was trembling with a combination of fear and humiliation

"Or yer will do wot?" Dick said nothing-- he was after all clashing with Damien Smyke -- until recently the scourge of the county. "Why are ya such a mealy mouthed cretin?"

"Now lads," Doc sprang between the two before things turned really unpleasant, "now about your birthday outing to my lab..." he squeezed Grumpy's arm and wheeled him towards the table.

"Whatcha got in mind, then?"

"One of the players from Windsor Wanders is dropping by to... to... help me... with an experiment, from what Snowy tell me you might fine it... err... interesting."

"Who is it?"

"Boots Stryker!"

"Cor! Yer `aving me on mate?" Meeting Boots Stryker could be the highlight of Smyke's life!

"Not at all..." Doc winked at Smyke conspiratorially. Then he turned to encounter the sad eyes of young Peter Pratt, who had not left his side.

"Oh, Doc, do you mind if I come too?"

"I thought we would all come along -- I understand you have a birthday tradition..."

"Oh... err," Bashful's ears turned scarlet.

"Alright! Sorted! But yer not including vat proper tosser?" he jerked his thumb at Flaunting-Flasher at the opposite end of the table.

"Oh yes!" Doc said, then he added in a low voice that only Grumpy could hear: "That is an important part of the plan -- it is payback time!" Grumpy grinned!

"Well if Richard is going so am I!" Pricilla said resolutely.

"Oh no you wouldn't want to do that..." Snowy added hastily, seeing his whole plan under threat of invasion by his stepsister.

"Oh but my place is next to Richard...."

"Oh no, Pricilla you could never endure it -- after all it is a laboratory - it is probably full of awful body parts..." The Vicar interjected, suspecting that a tubby girl was the last thing the lads needed at Smyke's Birthday Bonk!

Pricilla wrinkled her nose imagining spleens and kidneys -- Snowy knew better - he was thinking of gonads and buttocks.

"Well, that depends! Personally I think they are rather attractive bodily organs." Said Snowy and he squeezed Bashful's crotch playfully under the protective cover of the lunch table.

"Oh... err," said Bashful knowing now exactly what Snowy and Doc had in mind.

Then Mrs. Whyte arrived bearing a tray full of cardboard cartons -- lunch was served.

By the time `Boots' Stryker arrived for his appointment with Dr. Yang at the Research Laboratory, everything was set up for a fun time for Doc's invited audience. Snowy Whyte and four of the five anoraks were seated in the control room behind the one-way mirror under strict instructions to remain silent until Stryker was in place.

Grumpy, the birthday boy, was sitting in the operator's chair, still had no idea about what was about to happen and could never dream what an extraordinary birthday gift Snowy and Doc had arranged for him.

`Boots' Stryker was a slim athletic footballer of East European origin. `Boots' was the reigning star of the Windsor Wanderers football team belonged to the more select sub-group of Lon's visitors who were on the verge of breaking into big-time professional sport. It was certain he would be signed by one of the big league teams for the next session- Barcelona, Liverpool, Manchester United and Ajax were all after his seemingly flawless goal-scoring ability.

"Hello, Doc." `Boots' Stryker said in a thick East-European accent as Doc answered the doorbell. `Boots', was not, of course, his real name - that was something unpronounceable for the English tongue, hence fans had named him `Boots' because of his extraordinary kicking ability.

At eighteen, Stryker was 6'2'' and growing. He was thin, without being skinny - he had been working out regularly with weights and was beginning to fill out in all the right places -- but he retained this willowy gracefulness that made one think of a ballet dancer rather than a macho footballer.

He had close-cropped hair and a handsome, almost girlish face. Everyone noticed his eyes first - they were a curious green colour, enhanced by a Slavic-complexion. His smooth, long legs were well developed, with prominently veined muscles, above them his well-rounded buttocks jutted out prominently.

As he followed the star of the football field, from the entrance, down the corridor to the test room, Lon Yang watched how the smooth synthetic of his tracksuit clung to the curves of his muscular buttocks.

When they entered the small test room, Dr. Yang stood with his back to the one-way mirror and explained the procedure. "As you may know, Mr Stryker, we have been performing reproductive studies, at this laboratory on men who have shown superior sporting achievements as well as possessing an above average athletic physique..."

"I am knowing vat reproduction ess, Doctor..." Said Stryker in a door, mirthless voice.

"Eer... yes! And apart from DNA sampling we need..."

"The coach ess telling me you are requiring some of my sperms?" Boots stated in a matter-of-fact way. While this visitor knew what he was in for, Dr. Yang still ran though the scripted text to emphasise scientific discretion. He told Stryker that volunteers needed to provide DNA specimens drawn from hair and sweat, and then, while in the privacy of a cubical, he would donate a sperm sample in a beaker.

"Oh, by the way, we have found that volunteers find it unpleasant having to work up a sweat or having a sample of their hair clipped, so most lads prefer to leave a pair of underwear with us. It is quicker and we always supply a brand new pair for you to wear out of here."

"That vill be acceptable," said Boots, "but I must be warning you, there might be dirty marks at the rear of my boxers shorts."

"Oh I suspect we can cope with that." Said Doc guessing that Grumpy would find this part of his birthday gift an aromatic-bonus.

"If you agree, can you please take off your clothes and we'll begin, shall we?" asked the Doctor.

Dr. Yang, as the reader will know, had his volunteers separate into two groups -- those that who were shy and waited for him to leave before stripping and others who could hardly wait to get his clothes off.

"I vill be appreciative of privacy." Said Boots solemnly, proving he was the shy type -- which did not bother Doc much, as it was all going to be recorded for posterity anyway.

Grumpy, his face flushed with ill-concealed excitement, spun around in the control chair as Doc re-entered the control room!

"Cor, I `eard vat on va speakers!" Smyke's hands were trembling, Doc noted with satisfaction. "Do... do ya mean we gonna... like... watch `im toss off?"

"Not only that, Mr. Smyke, but I will be recording it on these..." said Dr. Yang flicking the switches, thus illuminating the interior the room in a blue glow from the monitors. Doc used the remote to train the cameras on Boots Stryker as he stripped of his clothing. "I will be making a recording for you. That you may take home for your private entertainment." Doc concluded with a lewd wink at the birthday boy.

Damien Smyke was a devoted fan of Windsor Wanderers F.C., and as much as he loved his Osbert, he still harboured a passionate lust for Boots Stryker. He would never get over the crush he had of this young football star, but he could never see himself coming on to him. Boots was too macho to ever make it thinkable. Now, extraordinarily, he might see the lad nude, and might even watch him masturbate to the point of ejaculation!

"Cor, I don't fuckin' believe it! Will someone please pinch me, so I can wake up?" This was a dream come true.

Grumpy leaned forward to watch Boots strip off his Umbro tracksuit top, revealing his smooth, hairless torso which tapered down to a very narrow waist. The tightly packed stomach-muscles knotted and twisted as he struggled out of the body hugging tracksuit bottom - Stryker tugged them down to his thighs, revealing a form-embracing pair of elegant under-shorts.

Lon Yang smiled contentedly, then his attention shifted to the lanky figure of his Internet buddy, SleepY or Richard Flaunting-Flasher, who stood with his back turned away from the mirrored wall, looking for all the world like that stupid monkey in the `see-no-evil' pose!

"I can't look! I must not look!" he kept repeating to himself. Snowy and Doc exchanged satisfied glances -- Flaunting-Flasher's punishment had commenced.

Beyond the glass Boots now stood stark naked. The keen eye of Grumpy and the rest of the group scanned the slim youth from his bulging calves to his head of close-cropped hair and odd green eyes.

"Err... Doc... err... doe yer mind if... I like...." Smyke's hand was plucking feverishly at his crotch.

"Toss off?" Dr. Yang completed his sentence for him, " no of course not Damien, I do it all the time in here, and besides, it is your birthday present after all! But try not to come yet..."

"Cor..." Smyke managed to say breathlessly as he stared bug-eyed at his hero's longish cock and smooth balls. Boots was uncut and still soft, but he clearly had a slim but slightly longer than average, cock.

"Oh god no. Tell him to stop it..." Richard was groaning, but the lads were all crowding around Smyke and were now all groping at their own crotches as they observed Boots give his Dong a lusty tug!

A pulsing thick vein ran down the length of Boots Stryker's dick, which was now showing signs of arousal. He was ignoring the pile of tits and pussy magazines that Doc had provided, and was watching his own reflection in the full-length mirror the divided the small room from the control room. This was great, as it afforded Grumpy and the other lad a wonderful view of the naked footballer.

Grumpy's cock was a throbbing pole in his jeans - the fabric swelling around his sixteen-year-old penis.

Behind the glass, Boots took his blood-engorged cock between his long fingers and started tugging at it firmly. It was a very lovely cock all eight-and-a-half inches of it - smooth and dark-skinned with out a trace of a bulge defining the head of his cock it was slender, very smooth and very, very suckable!

Glancing around in the comfort of the dark, Dr. Yang noticed that with the exception of himself and Dick, who was still resolutely facing the wall, like a bad schoolboy! The lads had their cocks out of their trousers. It was a lovely sight and one that Doc would always treasure. He gazed wandered from the little lads' dazzling, hairless pubic regions; to Grumpy, who had not only extracted his dick, but also removed his jeans altogether; and his lover, Osbert Prim's fine dick, furry from early puberty. Bashful had his hand occupied by gently masturbating his friend.

"Does he like things in his bum?" the Doc asked, Bashful quietly.

"Oh.. err.. Yes, we both do..." Bashful confessed.

"Well slip this up his hole, here I will grease it up for you." Doc paused to squirt a greasy substance on the length of his long, but slim, plastic toy and Bashful inserted into Grump's tight anus. Smyke groaned appreciatively, as he felt it pressing against his prostate and his free hand stroked his lover's hard cock.

"Cor... Thanks Doc, vat feels great..." Smyke muttered his appreciation. The two lads who had developed a robust anal-obsession had never tried toys before and all sorts of new horizons now opened up for them.

"I know, birthday boy, I use it all the time when I am wanking off in here."

"Please stop!" Dick groaned in torment, his hands were now pressed to his ears, like the `hear-no-evil' monkey. "Please don't let me hear what you are doing"

Boots was now beginning to groaning and writhe in front of the mirror. He obviously was getting off on his own reflection and was blissfully unaware of the appreciative audience on the other side.

Doc adjusted the focus of the six cameras placed in strategic locations and got them to remit a close-up video image to some of the numerous terminals.

The football-star's cockhead was hot under his palm. A dribble of pre-cum leaked out and it starts to run down his smooth powerful leg.

Grumpy sat transfixed -- his attention darting between the terminal showing a close-up of the footballers cock and the real thing in front of him.

The friends could all hear Stryker grunt and groan as his climax approached. Ejaculation was now not far off.

"Cor... Look at `im go! Vats right Boots mate, dribble and shoot!" Grumpy yelled s if he were cheering his hero on at a Windsor Wanderer's match. "Dribble and Shoot!" He yelled as if cheering Boots on as he was about to score a gaol!

And, indeed, Boots Stryker was dribbling - a load of shiny pre-cum ran down the lads long slender fingers as he jerked away lustily at his hard cock.

And then Boots scored!

With the perfect precision and reflex-action of an athlete who would make a wonderful goalkeeper, Boots swept the beaker from the table and caught the blast of cum that arched its way into the air. Then he milked the generous after shots neatly into the glass container, not missing a drop.

The videos captured his elegant shot and pumping in perfect slow-motion close-up. If wanking off ever become a televised sport, Boots Stryker was assured of a brilliant new career.

Some how Grumpy had managed not to squirt his own juices, but he was grunting and groaning like a wounded wildebeest, as Bashful rubbed his cock in his hand and manipulated the plastic toy in his eager arsehole.

Boots' face had a contented, peaceful look about it. In an unflustered and matter of fact way, he inspected the load in the glass beaker, sniffed it, then dressed himself, careful not to replace his underwear, which he now had to surrender to medical science along with a healthy load of footballer cum.

"Hang-on Grumpy, I'll go and get it for you!" Said Doc. He sprinted into the test room as soon and Stryker was decent. Grumpy was too far-gone in sexual ecstasy to register what Doc had said, let alone ask what it was that he was about to receive.

Then the lads overheard the discussion inside the test room:

"Did you produce much for me?" asked Doc as he noted the air in the room was, as always, thick with the odour of male sexuality and the fragrance of a fresh sperm.

"Ees dis sufficient, Doc," Stryker said, as he held up the beaker containing his cum. The Doctor thanked him for coming -- without even a trace of irony in his voice.

Within seconds the Doc was back! In his left hand he held, the glass beaker holding its slimy load of quality East-European footballer. In his right he held the lad's stained white shorts.

With an inscrutable Chinese grin, he held both of these items out to Grumpy.

"Here you go, Grumpy -- it's all yours, from Snowy, and the lads and me!"

Doc thrust these precious gifts into Damien's outstretched hands

"Well, you better use it while it is still warm," Doc said cheerfully, "I have to see him out!"

Behind them, Richard Flaunting-Flasher had swung around in horror! His hands were now pressed to his mouth in the `speak-no-evil' position as if he was preventing himself from saying something very, very rude indeed!

Damien Smyke was never dumbfounded; Damien Smyke always knew what to do next -- but today both faculties had deserted him!

His friends took over.

"Drink up while it is still good and warm." Snowy told the Birthday lad, as he held the beaker to his eager lips, as if he was administering some holy sacrament.

Then, when Grumpy had downed most of it, Dopey scooped out a finger full of slimy cum and anointed Grumpy's hard cock with it - then using it as a lubricant, proceeded to give him a very good wank. Meanwhile, Bashful who was curious to know what a champion footballer tasted like gave Grumpy a long and passionate snog, sharing the flavour off Boots' big load.

Finally as Grumpy could control it no longer, the friends all exclaimed in unison: "Happy Birthday, Grumpy!"

Grumpy shot his wad!

By the time that Doc rejoined them - Snowy had rubbed himself off to an agreeable dry-climax on one of Grumpy's legs; Bashful had shot a thin load over Birthday-boy's chest; Dopey was licking up Grumpy's record-breaking load; and Grumpy was sniffing the crotch of Boots' underwear, wearing an expression as close to bliss as one could find this side of nirvana.

Richard Faulting-Flasher meanwhile, had progressed through emotions of terror, mortification and had ended by feeling merely insulted and left out!

He stood quivering with rage as he yelled: "That has to be the most disgusting thing I have ever seen." He spat indignantly.

"Oh, do you think so?" Doc asked, quietly, "I have seen much, much worse on the Internet."

"How could you have forced me to watch that, if my father, the Regimental Sargent-Major heard about this, he would have you arrested." Dick was afire with moral outrage.

"Well, let me see..." Doc proceeded as if the outburst had not happened, "the worst thing I have seen... no the saddest thing I have seen...

"That was voyeurism at it worst, and as for that perverted stuff with his sperm, I think it is a violation of that man's human rights."

"Yes, I think the saddest thing I have ever seen is this weirdo! A lad who makes-believe he is some straight, macho, bullyboy. He spends all his time exposing himself, whacking it off for anyone who will watch, because he is too hung-up to let someone see it in real-life.

"Oh my God," Dick began.

"I believe he had been teased about its abnormal size..." Doc continued.

"Oh my God!" Dick repeated, "you are DoK! You are that guy from the net."

"Of course he is Doc," said Peter Pratt missing the point, as usual.

"On the other hand," Doc carried on, "when he finally finds someone who is nice him, he treats them like shit!"

"You ARE DoK!"

"Then of course, he had this thing about Chinese guys -- pretends to be straight but my God you should see him fawning over any Asian he meets."

"I have been stitched up!"

"It is really very humiliating if you happen to be Asian as I am -- as if he is considers you as an object, not an individual."

"This is a trap! A stitch-up!" Paranoia was rapidly setting in as the lanky lad started to shudder even more.

"Relax, yer mangy pillock," said Grumpy finally rejoining the here-and-now.

"You are going to expose me, aren't you?"

"Why should we try to expose you -- you have been doing a very good job without our help!" said Snowy wearing a very naughty grin.

"We just needs ta teach yer a lesson" Smyke gave his poor over-worked cock an encouraging tug.

"We not gonna `elp yer get yer ugly mug on va front page of va Sun." Smyke was always ready to put the old boot in

"Oh no! Not the press!" just the mention of the English gossip press, was enough to knock the stuffing out of Flaunting-Flasher.

"Well we all think it is payback time, Mr. Big-Willy-Flasher," Said Doc

"Whatever..." said Dick He had always been a physical and moral coward -- that was largely the problem with him. The odds were against him now, and so he resigning himself to a fate worse that death, at the hand of this odd band of lads.

"So lads, what is it to be?" Asked Doc, calling for ideas.

"Tell us do yer get va stick at yer school?" Grumpy asked.

"No. At least, not me." Then Dick added, "But my Dad beats the shit out of me when I am bad."

"I got four just before va hols." Grumpy said, looking Richard up and down.

"Still hurt?" Doc asked casually.

"Nah!" Grumpy said, still smiling.

"When you get punished by my Dad, you know about it." Added Dick, a little smugly, but he had and uncomfortable feeling that he did not like the way this line of inquiry was going.

"Got any marks ta prove it?"

"No!"

"Vat's `cause yer goody-two-shoes!" Grumpy said dismissive of anything Dick might have to say,

Dick shrugged -- this seemed to say something in itself - Doc stared up and down the substantial length of the Flaunting-Flasher youth, before fixing his gaze on the imposing bulge in Dick's trousers.

Then Smyke said something rather unexpected: "I always gets meself a stiffy when I get spanked, don't ya?"

"I bet you do because I see, you have a stiffy, now. A big one."

Swift as a trout, snatching a fly in mid-air, Doc reached over and grabbed the bulge behind Flaunting-Flasher's fly zipper:

"You shouldn't have done that," Richard, remarked without any real conviction, his face aflame with humiliation.

"You have been a very bad boy! I think we need to smack your long bottom." Doc pronounced the verdict of the assembled court.

Dick looked up into the Chinese lad's eyes and said: "You can if you must."

Doc pulled up one of the chairs, sat on it and then hauled the lanky body of Dick over his thighs, and positioned Dick's bum at the perfect angle.

"Go on," Richard Flaunting-Flasher had accepted his fate, "Spank me."

Doc had seen it on the net often enough -- but now through his own trousers, his lab-coat and Dicks own clothing, he could feel it -- even through all the fabric Dick's penis was hard and hot and awesomely big.

"'old on, let's get `is kit off first!" Grumpy yelled and without waiting for an answer started tugging at the elastic waistband of Flaunting-Flasher's pants. Several pairs of anorak hands flew to his assistance as size fourteen trainers went flying and long smelly sock joined the pants and y-front underpants in an untidy pile on the floor. The immensity of Dick's cock pressed into Doc's thighs.

For a couple of seconds the lads stared at the well-rounded globes of Richard's bum. It was pink and smooth and free from blemishes -- Bashful and Grumpy who were both rather connoisseurs of the male bottom, had to reluctantly agree that, while it was not firm and hard like Smyke's, or peachy-soft like Snowy's, that Dick had a very fine one indeed!

So saying Doc raised his right hand and dropped it with as much force as he could muster dead centre of Dick's bum.

The sound of his hand striking his flesh broke down any misgivings Doc had left. Within seconds of that first blow landing, Doc was slapping away for all he was worth.

"You have been a bad, bad boy!" Dicks started to strike out with his feet, but Doc ignored this and kept on slapping Dick's wobbling bottom.

"This is for being such an unpleasant sod on the net!" Doc said as Dick Flaunting-Flasher started to slip and slid around on the Doc's lap.

"And this if for being uncivil to our friend Snowy."

Snowy watched this feeling rather sad for Dick. He did not approve of corporal punishment and it was so humiliating, but then again, Dick had humiliated dozens of people, including himself. Then he noticed something odd about the way that Dick's legs made thrashing scissors movements. It looked as if Flaunting-Flasher was performing a dry-land version of the breaststroke on Doc's lap. Could it be he was actually enjoying this? Snowy's worst suspicions were soon proved accurate!

That's was when Doc felt something wet soaking through his lab-coat, trousers and onto his leg. Suspecting that Dick Flaunting-Flasher had peed on him, Doc shoved him away roughly.

But, as the lanky lad stood up clutching his bottom, the lads all saw that Dick hadn't peed but had shot a copious quantity of cum as Doc had spanked him, and it was still jetting out!

"Look what you've done, you silly sod!" Doc cried, indicating the stain on his laboratory coat.

Dick Flaunting-Flasher blushed deeply and looked full of remorse at the coat and very afraid that Doc was seriously angry with him over the mess he had made.

"I... I am so s-s-sorry, Doc," he stammered almost in tears as he struggled with both of his large hand to conceal his shameful appendage. But there was just too much of it to hide! He could never hide it with only two hands -- not even hands as big as his. Worse yet, he was shamed as a further blast shot up and splashed against Smyke's naked leg and it continued leaking copious after-blasts of cum.

What would they all think of him?

Then there was a gasp -- a sudden intake of breath as four anoraks and Snowy Whyte were confronted with the naked truth of the Flaunting-Flasher dick!

"Oh... err...." Said Bashful, which was for once a rather good summary of all the lad's feelings.

"Bloody `ell catch a load a vat, mate!" Smyke said his worn-out cock suddenly reaching full erection once again.

"Well, mate you can play a double role in the Christmas pantomime this year -- both Jack AND that can be va giant beanstalk!"

"Oh... err...." Said Bashful

"Oh my God!" Bashful's whispered, as his eyes bulged out behind his crooked metal-framed glasses as he stared at Richard's prick.

Flaunting-Flasher winced a little as he heard this, taking it as a kind of condemnation of his abnormality, not a genuine expression of admiration. Would these lads laugh and tease him about it as they did ceaselessly at school? Did the sight disgust them?

His answer came a moment later when the youngest of them, Dopey, dropped to his knees in front of him.

Dopey was not only recognised as the finest cocksucker among the friends, but he was rapidly becoming cum-addicted. In his slow mind it seemed such an awful waste that perfectly good cum, running out of the boy's big one.

Dopey reached out and palmed the apple sized cockhead of Richard's hard dick, grasping it with both his small hands, letting it go and then reaching back and cupping his large balls, using both hands. Dick's testicles when taken together were the size of a tennis-ball, swinging in a low-hanging sack.

"Goodness gracious me! What a huge willy!" The littlest lad mumbled in praise of the huge cock he was playing with. But he was missing out on the thick load and so he lick tentatively at a few stray drops on the shaft -- satisfied with the taste he set to it with conviction.

Dopey tried and tried, but by stretching his eight-year-old mouth wide, he ended up sucking on the tip of the cockhead of Dick's still dribbling dick and lapped up the rest of his load.

"Oh... err..." Said Bashful and knelt next to his little friend peering up at the huge cock while caressing the shaft with both his hands.

Doc lay staring adoringly at the boy's very-nearly-pretty face and Dopey was giggling up at him filled with the thrill of having his little boner played with by the older youth. Snowy felt a small rush of jealousy but the sight of Doc fondling his little friend's smooth skin was adorable and he watched them as his own hairless erection pulsed harder.

It was always fun having sex with another prepubescent boy, but older boys were always better. Not only did they feel so much more passionate about sex than little boys, but they also knew what felt good.

"Golly, that was yummy," cried Dopey, a trickle of cum dripping from the corner of his mouth. He stood up and ran to Doc and hugged him tightly round his waist. Doc petted his head, as if he was a good little boy who had done well in the school sports day.

"You see, Richard," Doc explained to him "having a huge cock can be a wonderful thing. You might get jokes, especially in high school, but that is unimportant contrasted to the good fortune of being hung like your average mule."

Seeing that Dopey had now freed up access to Dick's big spongy cockhead, Bashful smiled from his kneeling position, leaned upwards, opened his mouth wide and fitted almost the entire head into his mouth, while stroking the shaft with both hands. He dug his tongue into his gaping slit and drew out even more of Dick's juice.

The older lad was standing there, legs spread, all twelve inches rock hard and jutting out from his groin to where Bashful had managed to get all his glans into his pretty mouth.

Richard Flaunting-Flasher closed his eyes. Then he felt another set of hands on his balls and another mouth on his cock he looked down quickly to see that the fearsome Damien Smyke was now stroking him and lapping the shaft of his dick.

"Wicked big, ain't it?" Smyke suggested to his partner.

Bashful pulled his mouth off, and a silvery trail of cum stretching from his lower lip to Richard's dick as he smiled in agreement. It was truly incredible!

"As you see, having a massive tool, like yours," Doc carried on his explanation to Flaunting-Flasher, "makes people stare at it like our friends here, have been doing. And if you wish to get laid, is usually just a matter of whipping it out. Well, I guess you have just experienced that for yourself, now, haven't you?"

"I.... I suppose so..." Dick stammered. The feelings were incredible - he thought it felt good showing off online, but this was mind-boggling.

Flaunting-Flasher had a pretty good idea what effect his cock could have on another guys - a few years of showing it off online to appreciative oh's and ah's of a deeply impressed audience, had confirmed that for him.

But this was quiet different - this was the first time anybody, besides Jon, all those years ago, had touched his tool, and these lads were acting like his dick was the ultimate cock in the realm.

Under first Dopey's, then Grumpy's and Bashful's, soft hands, active tongues and fingers his penis had grow until he was rock hard once more. Even when it was soft, it was a respectable seven inches - when fully hard it reached a staggering twelve inches long. Watching these lads worship his dong was awesome.

Bashful and Smyke must have been doing a good job since Dick was sighing and inviting Smyke to dig his tongue into his slit, and Bashful to gnaw on the big triangle of skin bellow his cockhead. The two of them were salivating all over his colossal meat. Both pairs of hands and mouths easily found room on his cock. They played and jerked on his balls, each of them nuzzling one of his big testes.

"Oh I am gonna cum again, lads. Watch out!" He warned as his spillage landed on their faces. Dick sprayed both of them until his seed ran down their faces and dripped down their chins.

After Flaunting-Flasher came, the lads continued to lick and stroke,

"Cor... what a stud `e is..." Smyke poured praise on the lad.

"You're right Grumpy, his dick is amazing!" Bashful added. If his cock really were all that amazing, how would other lads react to it?

Meanwhile Snowy was watching the show with considerable, but slightly cynical, interest. Not long before, these same lads did not have a good word to say about Richard Flaunting-Flasher. They had encouraged Doc in administering physical punishment to the obnoxious older guy, something Snowy was unsure would help the situation. Now there they were grovelling and slobbering over his big dick, as if it was the greatest thing since sliced bread!

How easily impressed lad's were! Snowy thought wryly. How rapidly convinced his anorak friends were by things that were abnormally large or out of the ordinary in some way.

Snowy was not impressed.

Well to be perfectly honest, his dick was impressed. Very deeply impressed! It was throbbing longingly whenever he caught sight of Flaunting-Flasher's gigantic thing, but his intellect knew better.

It was like Christmas, he thought. The biggest parcel was not always the best present and even the largest bar of chocolate could give you a tummy-ache -- how much more harm could a colossal willy do to an unsuspecting boy, he wondered.

But then, something much more pleasant caught his attention. From the corner of his eye he also saw Dopey and Doc hugging and whispering sweet things to each other. Then he heard Dopey call out:

"Snowy!" Dopey giggled hysterically, "Doc is going to play with me!" The little fellow seemed utterly delighted at the prospect.

"Oh that's nice Dopey," Snowy added as he saw the older boy's hands took hold of the small mounds of the little boy's chest and gently petted his little ribcage until Dopey trembled with nervous laughter.

"Snowy we are really going to do it!" Dopey's soprano voice squealed again.

After all the stimulation of the past hour or so, Doc too, was really, really hard. His dick was curled down between his legs and very uncomfortable. He slid his hand down his stomach into the front of his underpants and enveloped his cock in his hand, lifting up his pants and allowing his stiff cock to uncurl under the palm of his hand. He rolled it from side to side. The palm of Doc's hand was pinning his foreskin against his belly and his fingers curled clear under his nuts. He wiggled his balls up and down as he rubbed his hand over the bottom of his cock.

Almost out of annoyance that he was performing this job for Doc, Dopey began to unbutton the older guy's lab coat and then open the fly of his jeans to reveal his white briefs. There was a stubby mound that felt warm as he ran his hand over Doc's less-than-average Chinese cock.

Dopey slid his face down Doc's chest and pressing his mouth on his cock, smooching it through his underwear. Doc's response to this told him he liked it.

Peter Pratt opened his mouth and put his teeth on each side of his cock like it was a rather yummy hotdog and teased it with his teeth, nibbling lightly down his cock to his balls and back up again. Doc ran his fingers through Dopey's hair and moaned with pleasure. After a few minutes of this Dopey lifted his head and pulled down his briefs to expose his wonderful Asian dick and started to lick it like a Popsicle. Long licks with his short boyish tongue, lapped from Doc's straight black pubic-hairs above his balls to his piss slit then back down again. Dopey held Doc's cock in his fingers to steady it and ran his tongue and open mouth up and down the length of it.

When Peter Pratt began to taste the pre-cum oozing out of Doc's Chinese winkle, he held it just above his balls and took him into his mouth, sliding all the way down to his balls in one long slow motion. It gagged him a little, causing Dopey to suck in air through his teeth. By now he had let go of Doc's dick and was stroking his back and sides with one hand and squeezing his black hair with the other. His hips were humping up and down and Dopey could tell that he was close to cumming. Dopey wanted to taste his cum in his mouth. Dr. Yang's cock was not big but hard and covered with soft supple skin the colour of old ivory. Half way down on his way to Doc's balls, Dopey discovered that the hair had started to grow up the sides of his cock long fine black hairs that were very silky and very straight.

Doc started to make a high, almost wailing noise - his eyes were closed and he held the eight-year-olds head in both hands, fucking his face faster and faster. Dopey pressed his lips hard around his cock as it went in and out just like Snowy had taught him and Doc's moaning took on a deeper pitch. His bum came clear off the controller's chair when he hunched into Dopey's face when he started to cum.

First Doc's balls retracted into his body, then his dick went very rigid and the head swelled up, almost as hard as the shaft. Next little Peter Pratt could feel it start to pulse as cum burst out of the tube underneath Doc's cock and hit the inside of his mouth with considerable force. Dopey tried to swallow it but there was too much and it was coming too fast. He coughed and spat some of it onto his lap. Soon his balls and belly were coated with a white mixture of semen and his slobber. After the first few spurts he began to slow up until he held quite still. Finally Doc exhaled and settled back down and started to relax and was able to speak once more.

"Holy shit Dopey, are you are trying to kill me." Doc gasped.

Peter Pratt grinned and asked, "Was I that good?" Doc kissed him in reply and rubbed his hand down over his boyish belly and Dopey sighed.

"I hope we can be friends forever." Said Peter Pratt very deliberately.

"I think I am in love," Doc confessed with a troubled expression on his face,

"Hmmm... I think I am too if love in a nice feeling in your tummy like butterflies." Said Peter Pratt.

"But you are only eight and I am almost eighteen. You are in the junior school and I am a working university graduate." Dopey was curled up on Doc's shoulder - he sighed and laid his head on older lad's chest.

"So what?" Asked Dopey rather bluntly. After swapping tongues for a couple of minutes Doc leaned back and made a little face and shook his head.

"What am I going to do with you?" Doc asked.

"Whatever you want to do?" Peter Pratt smiled and dropped his hand into his lap and rubbed his own nice hard cock, having long since abandoned his jeans, stroking his dick and curling his fingers under his balls.

Doc gave another sigh of surrender and pushed his hand up under Dopey's T-shirt. The little fellow stuck his legs out straight and stretched to give him access to him, pulling his hand from his side to over his head and soon the little lads T-shit had joined the other clothing on the floor.

Then on the other side of the room Snowy noted another happy couple. Somehow there was some part of him that was envious of Dopey and Doc, Bashful and Grumpy having found happiness in each others arms -- he could not account for it, but some how he knew that he had not met Mr. Right -- at least, not yet!

By now Bashful was stretched out on his back, on the sofa in Doc's control room. His unruly head of longhair lay in Grumpy's lap. The two lovers were both naked now, and their clothes lay along with all of the friends' apparel in a messy pile on the floor. Grumpy was slowly sweeping the palm of his hand over Bashful's chest and stomach, while he stroked his hair back from his face with the other. Bashful liked this. It was better than sex in a way, it made him feel warm and comfortable all over. Grumpy's strokes reached lower until he was running his fingertips over his fringe of short pubic hair.

"Yer getting' a little furrier, mate" he said.

"Snowy told me that. Look, I am getting a little hair in my arm pits too." Bashful laughed as he raised his arms to show him.

"In va meantime, I needs ta do something about yer dick." He smiled with an evil grin.

Grumpy began to run his hard hands up and down Osbert's body. This time he passed them down over his cock almost to his ankles, then up one leg, across his crotch and down the other. He was performing the kind of massage, which promised to make him hard.

With each pass of his hand, Osbert Prim's cock stood higher until it flipped over and lay tight and flat against his belly. The palm of Grumpy's hand was rolling across it, pressing it into his stomach and tickling his balls. He took his cock in his hard hand and peeled the foreskin back, then pulled it up over the head, stretching it out. Damien Smyke was smiling at him as if he was admiring something beautiful that made his heart pound.

They kissed passionately as Bashful ran his tongue in Grumpy's mouth, sucking on his lips, all the while stroking him with long return strokes that pulled his foreskin in and, stretching it in both directions. Bashful began to breathe harder and had to suck air around Grumpy's mouth to be able to get air. Bashful felt he was getting close and Grumpy could discern this.

"Eer... Damien..." Osbert started hesitantly, " havce you looked at Dick's thing?"

"Of course I `ave mate, we woz both sucking va bleedin' thing now wasn't we?"

"No I mean really, really looked at it..."

"Wot do yak mean?"

"Hmm... well I was just wondering...." Bashful trailed off as the tips of his ears turned scarlet.

"You don't mean...." Grumpy gawked at his lover in disbelief as the reality of what he was suggesting dawned on him. "We couldn't mate... it would tear our `oles wide open... we would be bleeding for a week!"

"Well, what if we practised a lot first...."

"Come `ere, you." Grumpy said, lying back across the sofa and pulling Osbert on top. "Yer can practice yer fucking on me if yer like..." and he spread his legs and pushed Bashful's hard cock down between them.

Bashful spread his legs to straddle Damien's crotch and felt his cock slide down into the cavity between his legs. His hole was still slippery from the work out with the Doc's dildo that he had enjoyed earlier. Osbert's dick was just beneath his balls, sliding between his legs and up towards the crack of his bum then Grumpy grunted appreciatively as Bashful entered him!

They moved together so that Osbert's strokes seemed to travel a long way, sliding in and out as their bare stomachs were pressed together. Bashful pushed and pulled and felt his cock moving almost inside Smyke while his younger friend licked and began to suck on his hard nipples.

Grumpy held him firmly and kissed him while he stroked his back and bum cheeks. Bashful could feel the cum rising in his balls and began to pump faster and faster, dizzy with the sensation of Grumpy's closeness, his embrace, the smell of his sweat in his face, the squishy sound his cock made as it plunged into Grumpy's bum. Bashful could hold back no more - Grumpy crossed his legs at the ankles; squeezed his thighs together; and held him close.

Bashful held onto the skin around Grumpy's nipple with his teeth, while he emptied his balls into his mate. Bashful couldn't cum enough! He wanted to spurt forever but after a minute it was all over and Bashful lay panting on Grumpy's chest, feeling his warm hands caressing his back and shoulders and hips.

"I love you Grumpy." Bashful told him while he kissed him on the top of his head.

Snowy had been watching all this from the sidelines, looking at all of them having fun but no one had noticed him.

He transferred his gaze to Richard Flaunting-Flasher or Sleepy as he thought of him and he ginned boyishly, his pale blue eyes gazing at the man-sized uncircumcised penis his friends had uncovered. His eyes stared at the erection on only a short walk away from him - the swollen glans, which peered out from the covers of his fat foreskin, was deep purple and apple-shaped. Pale blue veins bulged along its considerable length and his big oblong testicles hung in a long but soft, slightly wrinkled, brown scrotum. He had a mature pubic thatch but it was in a small patch around his erection.

Dick's huge feet were huge and he had these very sexy long toes. Looking up he could see the slender beauty of the youth's legs. Hairless and smooth, Dick's legs were firm and muscular but not thick. Long, thin muscles rippled down his thighs and were visible, along his calves. Above them, his buttocks were round and plump and still a bit pink from the spanking -- but they were not sagging at all and looking as soft as the rest of his body.

Snowy could understand how the others were infatuated with this gigantic specimen of mature adolescence.

Suddenly Snowy's blue eyes met the eyes of the huge lad and his face felt hot -- he was frightfully embarrassed to be caught scrutinising the giant lad, but the sight of his enormous naked body and colossal erection was almost enough to conquer his coyness and his principals.

Blushing crimson, Snowy legs moved him involuntarily over to Flaunting-Flasher, perhaps more hastily than he ought, to retain his aloof image. Dick looked up at Snowy timidly.

"Am I forgiven?" The giant asked demurely and he reached out his long, slender arms and slipped them around the blond boy's thin shoulders and gathered him up against his bare side.

"Hmm... well not really..." But snowy could feel his mind was loosing the batter for control and his very hard boyish prick was winning!

Instantly Snowy found he was nose to nose with Dick, their warm moist lips pressing together. In fact Dick was so good at kissing, that Snowy instantly grew even more excited, feeling the older lad's big hand and long fingers stroking across his little boy chest. The incredible talent of Dick's tongue convinced him that he would need to practice kissing more often: it was a lot nicer than he'd ever thought it could be.

"Where did you learn to learn to kiss like that?" Snowy asked breathlessly, finally breaking away.

"Well not from your stepsister, that's for sure." Said Flaunting-Flasher much to Snowy's relief.

Peter Pratt was giggling at this and Snowy could see the little chimp grinning at him. His little hands were both holding the manhood between the Doc's legs, stroking the tight skin up and down. His hands looked all the more childish against the short length of the Chinese guy's cock and against the straight black pubic hairs surrounding it. Doc obviously liked the awkward boy's grasp because his penis-head was starting to shine even brighter, sculpted like a military helmet, purple fading to an ivory-white.

Snowy enjoyed looking at the fine lean body of Doc, now that he was naked and had removed those silly black-rimmed glasses, he was actually very handsome.

"Okay Snowy?" Dopey gasped and grinned, at his blond friend.

"Fine, Dopey!" said the blond lad clearly.

"Can we two join you two?" He asked hopefully.

Flaunting-Flasher smiled happily as he reached out his long arms held to both Dopey and Doc -- the message was clear.

As Dick lowered himself to the floor, Dopey, Doc and Snowy felt his tender direction and they both all lay surrounding him. Peter Pratt was sniggering childishly, his little hands already petting the rock hard cock and pubic hair between Dick's legs. Dick's hands guided both the smaller lads' heads toward his penis and they both knew he wanted them to suck him off.

"Doc, can you keep your legs up here?" the lofty adolescent smiled - his big hands moving Doc's ivory-coloured legs close to his head. Snowy's hands joined Dopey's in fondling the big penis of the older boy and smiled at his younger friend. Snowy could feel Dick's huge hand spreading his little legs a little and turning him so that his little stiffy no longer pressed against the carpet. He then positioned Dopey's little body the same manner, thus leaving Dopey's and Snowy's hairless erect boyhood's within easy grasp of the large boy. Richard Flaunting-Flasher wasted no time propelling a hand to each penis, gently petting their baby-soft pubic areas and making them chuckle a little shyly. He smiled broadly as he took pleasure from tossing these little boys. Then he thought of his Grandfather, and he grinned defiantly - to hell with his dad! He liked boys' cocks, even very little boys' cocks, in just the same way as his granddad had.

Flaunting-Flasher didn't have to tell them what to do - though his mouth had never shared a big-boy's tool with another boy, Snowy moved his lips towards the purple head, which looked too tasty to miss.

The big slit in the head of his cock was yawning open and Snowy wanted to be near it when the giant's boiling sperm started squirting out. Dopey must have been thinking the same thing for he, too moved his mouth to the Dick's big erection. The little lads squirmed in delight, as their lips smooched the left and right sides of Flaunting-Flasher's cock-shaft, respectively. Dick took hold of their immature little boners.

Now Peter Pratt was used to swallowing penis heads whole, having to share it with a mate, was not an easy thing for his slow mind to workout. So their lips collided with each other clumsily across the big throbbing manhood and quickly grew slimy and they very quickly became skilled at giving a boy a joint blowjob.

Flaunting-Flasher turned his attention to his dream companion. Doc's compact body was even more agreeable to the touch than it was to look at - his muscles were sharply defined and his abdomen and chest were conspicuous despite being thin and almost boyish. His protruding nipples seemed too small to make a real impression. He had one of those washboard stomachs that you would not expect from a nerdish academic. Dick adored the feel of rippling hardness as his hand moved over the ivory smooth Chinese lad's skin.

Doc's body was perfectly smooth and totally hairless except for the bits around his short Asian cock and in his armpits where he felt the feathery caress of luxuriantly silky, straight, and wispy hairs

While Richard Flaunting-Flasher obviously revelled in the two small lads' exploration of his vast body, it was Doc's sensual body that was mainly causing him to moan loudly. Snowy missed feel his fingers tugging rhythmically and affectionately at his stiff boyhood, but Dick's hands were now fully occupied with the super-intelligent Chinese lad.

Through the corner of his eye, Snowy could see the Doc gazing lovingly at while of his hands lovingly reached across the giant lad's body and masturbated the hard, hairless eight-year-old erections. Snowy was definitely starting to feel a little sad -- somehow left out of the fun. Then, despite his body's awkward position, Snowy continued his sucking on Dick's penis and was pleasantly surprised to see that, even though he had cum twice, Dick was responding very well - Snowy could tell he was getting excited.

Snowy's little friend's chin and upper lip were now covered with a glistening sheen of saliva and pre-cum from his mouth caressing Dick's huge Dong with considerable skill. Doc was, of course, masturbating the little boy and Dopey's rapid panting showed that his little body was building to orgasm.

Snowy let his lips move over Flaunting-Flasher's penis, all the way down to the teenager's pubic hair then moved back up his shaft, his lips pausing form time-to-time to grasp the throbbing cock as they moved down the thick shaft. Dopey responded to this action by running his lips over the sculpted head instantly causing Dick to moan louder and cause his long fingers on Doc's cock to masturbate yet faster.

Peter Pratt played the tip of his tongue over the tight slit of Dick's urethra, no sooner had it slipped between his lips than a reckless squirt of pre-cum erupted from the swollen slit. It was a pretty good shot of the yummy stuff and it filled his mouth with the mild musk of boy juice. Then some how he managed to fit part of the gigantic pulsing glans in his small mouth.

Doc's other free hand f now found Snowy's cock and he was soon tossing both of them simultaneously. Most boys rub too hard on a little boyhood, but Doc's fingers caressed both boys perfectly, propelling them both to toward boyish orgasm.

"Oh no I'm nearly there again!" Flaunting-Flasher yelped, sounding more like an excitable child than a young man as his pleasure grew to finality. Snowy was as excited by Dopey's, Doc's and Dick's pleasure as his own and excitedly tried to do better service to the thick as a beer-can erection, and in so doing, his own little cock began to feel better and better.

Flaunting-Flasher's hands, which had spent so much time adoring Doc's rock hard chest, abdomen and thighs, moved between the Chinese boy's legs, took hold of the exposed length of his cock, started stroking his tight foreskin up and down. Dr. Yang's legs instantly spread wider and he moaned loudly, fingers stroking his cock into gratification.

Snowy had been wondering if his own little boyhood would be able to hold out long enough to share orgasm with the rest of his three playmates. As he watched Dopey, his legs were spread fully open, enjoying the rhythmic rubbing of his tiny penis he saw that his body was contorting and squirming excitedly. Dopey was already starting to convulse with orgasmic contortions and Snowy knew he was right on the edge of climax. Dopey's little lips remained fixed to the Richard's gigantic pole, however, holding on to taste the full eruption of the giant's sperm. Then he could hear both Dopey's high-pitched soprano voice -- the boy had let the cock go and was noisily surrendering to his orgasm.

Next Snowy could feel the onset of the outburst from the Dick's hips - his lungs became incapable of holding air any longer and he lay crying in pleasure. His shuddering body and fat penis were throbbing and Snowy fully expected Dopey's mouth to descend on the mature cockhead to receive his love cream, but his little friend was too deep into his own orgasm to do so. Both little lads lay with the Dick immense cock poking up between their chins. Then the big guy was moaning and jerking in orgasm and as his body jolted with excitement - the warm, slimy semen erupted, sprayed from his penis head.

It was the third big cum that day that shook Dick's powerful penis and the load fell short. Both Dopey and Snowy felt, more than tasted, a few droplets of his sperm fall on their tongues. He heard Dick's long moans as he ejaculated a second, third and fourth time, each time leaving warm, wet droplets against his cheeks, lips and tongue.

As Flaunting-Flasher's orgasm started to subside, so Snowy and Doc had their turn. Snowy's climax stuck in the usual body trembling, eye twitching way he had come to know and love. He was so wrapped up in this that his did not see Doc climax. When Snowy finally opened his eyes and recovered, he found Dick's fingers were moving very slowly and very sweetly on his little boyhood. Snowy snuggled up to the giant boy and enjoyed the taste of the droplets of his sperm on his upper-lip and watched the tenderness of Dopey and his Doc's in the full warmth of post orgasm.

Doc's sperm had squirted out with less intensity, but he ejaculated a lot, and Snowy saw it sliding down his penis head and shaft. His hard chest was sprinkled with sperm, running all the way down his abdomen and tight belly. Dopey, though he felt very weak and tired, recovered a little and leaned over to his intelligent Chinese friend and started lapping up the milky streams of sweet semen - from his hips; from his flat ivory belly; from his softening penis.

"That was great," Doc smiled.

"That a pair of boys," Dick Flaunting-Flasher's said, his baritone voice cracked slightly. When his vision cleared, and he could think again, his long arms slipped around Dopey's and Snowy's shoulders and he pulled their little bodies up on either side of him.

Snowy looked over at little Peter Pratt. His penis was softening. His buck-toothed face was flushed boyishly from his orgasm, little droplets of Dick's sperm still shone on his cheeks.

"We very nearly did it all at the same time," Snowy said, rather proud of their good timing.

"Well that was quite a Birthday, wasn't it Mr, Smyke?" Doc asking laughing.

"Bloody oath mate vat has ta be va best birthday ever! A cuppa Boots' spunk; `is undies ta sniff; a dirty movie of `im tossing his ol log; and a great shag wiv me mates!"

Doc looked at Damien Smyke and smiled.

"Did yer `ave fun, big mate? Doc asked to Flaunting-Flasher who's eyes were very slowly closing.

"Well I guess we have got us two more bonk buddies." Added Bashful.

"I think we'll be `aving fun all summer long." Grumpy added grinning broadly, "What do yer say, Dick, me ol' mate?"

But there was no reply from Dick Flaunting-Flasher - exhaustion, the result of a rollicking shag with his new chums, had taken its toll.

Dopey and Snowy giggled as all the lads all realised that `Sleepy' Flaunting-Flasher was fast asleep!

Mrs Whyte had called "Mirror on the wall" repeatedly since receiving the parcel containing the papyrus and the official translation of the message for the Gods but it was to no avail - the world famous psychic was not available.

The truth was that Bert Goldblatt had one of his notorious benders. And when Bert was really drunk he was of no use to even Telesis Inc. Attempts by the operator to divert Mrs. Whyte and her money to another operative were useless -- only the world famous psychic would do.

Eventually the manager took a risk. After warning the caller that the world famous psychic was in a deep trance, he plugged the call through to a very drunk Bert, who was languishing on the sofa in his small bed-sit, nursing his second bottle of Scotch for the day.

"Oh Madame Zelda, at last..."

"Who the fuck is this..." asked Bert slurring his words.

"Why it is Mrs. Whyte, Madame Zelda I need help..." she had jaut paid the last bill off and extra 5000-00 she was entitled to advice!

"You're right there luv, you need help alright." Bert took another swig then added "and I'm a bloke not a bleeding Madame!"

"But... Madame the message you need to help me interpret it... I called "Mirror on the wall" repeatedly." But Bert only caught the mirror on the wall part.

"Mirror, mirror on the well who is the bleeding fairest of them all..." Bert continued garbling his words, "well its not you, you fat ugly bitch, it must be Snow White I suppose."

"Precisely, Madame, Snowy Whyte - what am I to do with him?"

"Well if I remember correctly," said Bert, thinking for a moment it was a pantomime producer on the line who had lost the story line, "you send out for the huntsman and say `bring me back the heart of Snow White'...."

He paused to light up a Camel while the mad cow babbled on about doing away with the male line and letting her daughter take her place at the head of the list of claimants.... The billing cycle, phone bills, and credit card charges -- all meant nothing to him now.

"So you are casting Snow White, are you? I suppose you want me in it?"

"Of course, my dear, you are indispensable to my plans."

Suddenly, something clicked in the mind of the Whyte woman. She had once been warned that Madame Zelda was sometimes subject to possession by the spirits -- it had to be a male sprit that was speaking though her.

"Oh Madame Zelda..." Mrs. Whyte gushed "I am so sorry to trouble in midst of a demonic possession, but what am I to do you about the boy?"

"The principal boy been playing up has he?" Bert continues in the belief they he was on the line to a scatterbrained pantomime producer.

"As always, in the wrong company." Bert through his whiskey induced haze had so far made out that the principal boy, who was playing a role in Snow White, was in the wrong Pantomime Company and the producer was calling him, Bert Goldblatt, the very best Pantomime Dame ever, to sort it out.

"Well luv, I am deeply flattered, you should call to ask me. I think you have to be ruthless!"

"Just how ruthless? Did you mean what you said about his heart and a huntsman?"

"Well luv, you know how the story goes..."

"And where do I get hold of a huntsman?"

"For God's sake dear," Bert said exasperated, "try a bloody casting-bureau."

"But why would they do it for me."

"You have to pay actors you know! They will do anything for money -- God help me I know!"

"I knew you would have the wisdom to help me Madame Zelda, oh how glad I am to have reached you at last."

Bert took a celebratory slug from the bottle -- at last he was back on the stage again and a producer was asking him for help in a production problem -- even if he was having to advise the producer on the most basic of things.

"And if the hunts man does not work? What am I to do then?"

"Well my dear the show must go on..."

"Why, of course - the show must go on... you are so right there!" Mrs. Whyte pondered the deep wisdom from the possessed Madame Zelda, indeed if a hired killer did not work she would have to try something else to rid her and Pricilla of Snowy Whyte!

"There is no doubt about it! May I be permitted to congratulate you on your fine casting! You have chosen the very finest Pantomime Dame ever."

"Oh, you must be referring to Pricilla...." Said Mrs. Whyte very confused by the incessant babbling from Bert.

"Oh is that the name of the character? I believe a can play a Pricilla...."

"And the message spoke of untold riches, did it not?"

"Indeed luv, now that I am walking the boards once more I will find untold riches, perhaps even get a part hosting a day-time television quiz."

Mrs. Whyte hung up at that point -- clearly the world famous psychic was raving in her trance - and anyway, she had heard what she needed to know.

Now she needed to find a huntsman who was prepared to do Snowy Whyte harm for money!

As Percy Pratt descended the stairs to the Gents' room under the Parade, he wore an uncharacteristic scowl on his ruggedly handsome face. He often stopped by the Men's room when estate business brought him to town. Sometimes he went `Cottaging', as it was named in gay circles. This involved hanging around the men's-room until he could make use of the casual sex that was on offer there, but more often than not, Percy Pratt went to the Gents' for a friendly chat with Felix Jollybottom, the lad that ran the place most days in the week.

Percy Pratt was no saint! He was not unfamiliar with desperate measures -- after all he was a man with five kids to support, a fat lazy wife and a low wage, as a junior forest-labourer on the payroll of the Royal estate. Percy Pratt was not above a bit of thieving; the occasional motor theft or fencing stolen goods to supplement his meagre means, but he drew the line at what the bitch had just suggested!

If it hadn't been that he needed to continue his fence-mending duties that afternoon, he would have stopped in at the "Admiral's Bum-Boy" his favourite pub for a pint or seven of lager, but tea with Felix would have to do.

"All right, Percy?" asked Felix in his usual friendly way as Pratt descended the last of the stairs. Felix liked Percy he was rough and ready and he had a ladish good humour.

"Been better, Felix, mate. Been better!"

"Cuppa char, then?" Felix offered the English solution to everything.

"Good on yer, mate!"

"So whot's up then?" Felix asked, as Percy Pratt followed him into the small office he had made very cosy and pleasant over the last years.

"Well..." Percy started as he sank onto the small sofa, " va bleedin' wife `as got another bun in va bleedin' oven, ain't she..."

"Blimey!" Felix exclaimed, "That will make it six kids, and all, mate!" then he winked at his friend. "Ain't ya worked out yet wot it is wot causes it, yet?"

"Bloody oath, mate" said Percy, laughing heartily, "I been finkin' `bout getting me knacker-tubes tied, an' all!"

"Well lad, there are poofs enough 'ere wot wants ta suck a load off ya!" The`Cottage' under the Parade had become rather well known in gay circles, it was clean, well run and discreetly busy. All of this was the doing of Felix Jollybottom who did such a great job of running it -- he was also happy to fix patrons up with each other just for the fun of doing it.

"Reckon yer right, Felix, mate," Percy said sadly, "but, `ell a lad `as ta `ave a bit of variety, like!" Percy Pratt had been an unrepentant bisexual for as long as he could remember.

In his mind it was a real limitation having only one type of sexual partner to chose from and so he had been spreading it about a bit as widely as he could. Unfortunately, he had knocked up his wife to be when they were both sixteen-years-old - and here he was twenty-nine, going on thirty, and his youngest son Patrick, was twelve already!

"So whot's up, then?"

"Well I needs some extra, dosh like, so one of va lads on va estate tells me there is a toff wot `as a job want's doin' -- am I interested." Percy continued, as Felix fixed two mugs of tea. "So I comes into town today ta meet `er, like."

"And?" Felix placed a mug of strong sugary tea in front of his mate.

"Well, this ol' bitch asks ta meet me down va Crown. So I turns up an' she is like wrapped up like a bleedin' mummy in scarf and dark glasses and asks me to do `er stepson in."

"Ya `aving me on?" Felix asked in disbelief as Percy took a swig of his tea, "Wot did ya say?"

"Told `er I'd `ave none of it! Some stuck-up toff's wife she woz -- wouldn't take no for an answer. She keeps on `bout it! Would I take `im into va woods an' get `im lost, like and va longer `e is gone va more she will pay me." Percy Pratt was clearly very shaken, "I tell ya, I could tell she were completely barking mad, but fuck it - me `urt a little lad? No way! Never!"

"Yeah, mate! Good on ya! Little lads are way to cute ta `urt -- you should know you got three of va blighters, ain't yer!" Percy Pratt and Felix Jollybottom shared an interest in younger lads. But where as, boys and pornography were Felix's only sexual outlets, Percy Pratt liked men, loved women and liked little boys best of all -- to him a boy was almost a third sex -- one more item on the menu of sexual variety available to him.

"Yeah!" said Percy Pratt giving the well-filled crotch of his dark green estate overalls a lusty rub! "Oh, that reminds me by the way, I got them pics of me dick `ere wot I promised yer..." Percy fished in his pockets and extracted several Polaroid pictures of his own large, erect member!

"Cor... thanks mate!" Percy was an avid collector of pornographic images and was not above sneaking pictures of lads in the Gents' room. Percy knew this, and was happy to offer him a few self-pics. The photograph showed a side profile of a fat, plum-coloured cock head, flared-out like a large police helmet on top of a very solid policeman.

"One of them woz missing -- I woz wandering if it woz one of me lads wot `alf-inched it."

"What would one of yer lads be doin' wiv a pic of dad's dick?"

"Tossing off over it just like wot you gonna do wiv vat bunch in yer hand!" Said Percy, with a wicked twinkle in his eye. He was feeling much better now and had put the unpleasant incident with the women entirely out of his mind. "Then three lads are always at it wiv each other, so there mum tells me, but I never caught em at it meself yet."

"Have you.... You..." Felix blushed until his ruddy face matched the colour of his hair.

"Messed around wiv me own lads?" Felix asked, "no, not yet. Their mum would `ave a pup if she caught me at it." Percy Pratt turned the thought over in his mind very carefully.

In his mind-eye he could see his wife, her bloated boobs swinging under her sloppy T-shirt, as she yelled at him! In his imaginary scene she had caught him wanking Patrick, his oldest son, while he sucked on Pip's little piddler and Peter sucked on his Dad's big dong. This fanciful picture seemed to please him and he added: "not that I would mind, like."

"Come ta think about it, I could do wiv a bit of a shag right now." The handsome married man rubbed his crotch again and Percy could make out the bulge of a very hard cock jutting out very suggestively. "Anyone around wot is interesting?"

"Bit quiet today, mate."

"Has vat thirteen year old school kid been back? Fuck he were great!"

"Yeah, `e sucks up a storm vat lad but its school holidays and `e must be blowing all va men in Blackpool I reckon." After pausing to think, Felix added "Well, that lad from va bank wiv va pimples is down in cubical 12 - he has always been keen to get `is `ands on vat piece of meat a yours, `e tells me."

"Him? He is a proper tosser."

"Yeah, right, but I reckon `e'd suck yer dry as soon as look at yer!"

"Okay, `e is on!

"Just wave yer tackel in front of va `ole in va door, mate. He will let yer in."

"See ya later Felix, yer got me cock up an' running, you `ave."

"Always pleased ter `elp yer Percy" The two friends had never even contemplated sex together as Percy's passionate outlet were either self-masturbation or playing with the occasional schoolboy who came in looking for sex -- men, like Percy, were fine as a mate, but not potential sex partner for Felix. However he was thinking that it might be fun to get a few digital pictures of that gawky bank clerk, swinging on Percy's cock.

Percy Pratt's cock throbbed in his dark-green overalls as he made his way down the row of cubical. He paused before door number 12- the one with the large hole in it and the right level for him to give a good view to Willy Bobbin, the ugly, young, Blob's Bank clerk, within.

Bobbin spent most of his lunch break `Cottaging' -wanking away vigorously at his cock here in the Gent's under the Parade, hoping to get a cock to service.

Then the burley married man drew-out his thick, hard, nine-incher and then, as he always did, Percy slipped his finger along the ridge where the shiny purple glans met the skin of his shaft, to dig out some cheese. This was his private ritual - it made him wild with lust- how he wished he still had a foreskin to poke around under- that would surely have meant a bigger build-up of smelly cock cheese.

He left it on his fingertip for a moment then passed it under his nose. Willy Bobbin the spotty teenager from the bank, in his crisp white shirt, watched Percy as he fingered his hard-on. His lips were parted and his eyes bright and his enlarged Adam's-apple bobbed up and down in his scrawny neck as he gazed at this picture of loveliness.

Percy rubbed the cheese out on his hard-on, smearing it along the underside of his cock. Then he thrusts it though the hole in the door, which is only just large enough to accommodate it. Willy Bobbin can smell the rich odour even in the toilet's reek it stirs the hot semen in his balls.

This is what Willy Bobbin lived for! It's like this married man is a hunter stalking through the woods with a ferocious gleam in the eye -- then he bates a trap and ensnares his prey. Willy Bobbin loves to be the prey. Willy Bobbin lives for erections and sweat and tongues and muscles.

Willy Bobbin stares at the man's cock just inches from his face. He wants him but he wants him inside the cubical. With the palm of his hand he presses the cock gently back out of the hole and opens the door. Percy smirked in triumph and winked at Felix at the door of his office and entered the sanctuary of the cubical.

The man had a rather nasty smile on his face and a mass of jet-black curls covered both his head and his broad muscular chest. It took Willy Bobbin a few moments to realise he new him, it was the rugged labourer father of the Pratt family. They banked at Blob's Bank and he had always fancied his robust good looks; black curly hair; broad furry chest and huge arms - muscular from swinging an axe.

Percy looked down at the pigeon-chested youth and steadied himself by placing his hands on the bank-clerk's shoulders. Willy ripped at the buttons on Percy's overall - they popped open revealing a bush of long dark pubic hair. He passed his fingertips over it, feeling that it was soft and fine. When Percy undid the other buttons removed his overall. His boxers sprang open and fell away - they had been held up only by his erection, which was now free to spring forward and touched Willy Bobbin's face.

What he saw surprised him. Percy was circumcised which he hadn't expected that, and he was big. While the Blob's Bank clerk was only six inches, Pratt must have been at least nine, and the thickness was in proportion to the length and his dick was very straight. From the light flowing out from the corridor outside the cubical, he could see that the skin on the shaft was a little darker than the rest of him and the head was flared around the edge --a fat, plum-coloured cock head, flared-out like a large police helmet.

Willy brushed the bottom of it across his lips and it smelled nice - not just the sweaty dick smell of a rough man who works hard for a living but also the faint smell of something nasty and dirty, as if his cock-cheese was pungent cologne.

Percy Pratt put his hand under his balls and pulled them forward -- offering them to the spotty lad, who had often served him at the bank. His nuts were fat and hanging loose and were velvety smooth, except for a bunch of wiry back hairs. Willy Bobbin cupped them in his hand and kissed his scrotum, feeling the egg shaped testicles move slightly under his lips. He looked up at Pratt's baby-making dick and saw a glistening drop of pre-cum forming at the tip. Willy Bobbin glanced up at Percy and the look on his pale spotty face told him how this was for him.

The youth put his thumb at the base of older man's dick and milked out a long stream of clear pre-cum which he licked off with his tongue, letting his lips surround his dick head just for a moment, then he stood up and spread his legs a little. Percy took the hint, pulled his hairy arse around and took the lads place on the porcelain throne and the lad knelt on the sperm marked floor his face was in the man's his crotch. Percy let his hands exploring the lad's pimply back shoulders, and bum.

Bobbin's cock pressed up flat against his belly sticking out of the zipper in suit trousers he wears at Blob's Bank. Percy pressed the flat of his hand against it and moved from side to side, feeling the boy's hard cock. He traced it with his finger and pressed the boys dick tight against his belly running it on the shirt and tie he wore when he serves customers at Blob's Bank -- he wanted to see the lad cream all over his clean white shirt and nice navy blue tie.

Willy ran his fingers through his black pubic hair he could not believe the excitement of sucking off this rough - very physical labourer. He was sucking the very same cock he used to shag his wife and give her five kids. He took his mouth off it for moment to stare at the shiny purple dick-head. There was even something slightly dangerous seeming about him.

"Oh my God," Willy Bobbin whispered. Percy, his cock half way down the Clerk's throat, could hear him muttering what sounded much like a prayer.

Neither of the men noticed Felix lean over the wall from cubical number eleven and silently take a few choice shorts of the hot action in number twelve. He would give Percy a few copies later when he had printed them -- he knew his mate would get a good laugh out of it. Then he slipped back to his office.

"What's the matter?" Percy asked.

"Nothing is the matter, sir, " he said, "you smell so..."

"Sorry darling," Pratt mocked the spotty youth, "if I new we woz getting' married I would a `ad me a shower..."

"No, no, not a bad smell, but your own smell, a Pratt smell." Percy looked down at the lad, "It's a wonderful smell..."

"Oy! Don't get soppy on me lad! Just you suck! I got work ta do this afternoon. Now, get on wiv it, an' service this customer..."

*****

When Percy Pratt left the cubical he had not only very nearly asphyxiated Willy Bobbin with an extra large load of creamy spunk, but he had also achieved his second objective. Spunk coated the neat navy tie, clean white shirt and gobs of sperm from the floor of the cubical coated the knees of the bank clerk's suit's trousers. Willy Bobbin would be providing a rather smelly form of customer service at Blob's Bank.

Percy was well pleased with himself, while he loved casual sex with men, he hated the soppy types like this poncy little bank clerk.

Felix was waiting for him looking very agitated.

"Percy mate, yer know yer told me about vat woman yer saw wanted a job doing?" He gabbled away before Percy Pratt could get a word in, "well I fink I know who she is and where she lives! Percy, we gotta do something `bout it, mate."

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