Date: Thu, 09 Feb 2017 19:51:39 +0000
From: puermalo14@hushmail.com
Subject: Wagtails and Spartans 2

WAGTAILS AND SPARTANS

This story attempts to recapture the spirit and language of a children's
adventure set in England in the 1930s. The content includes sexual activity
between boys, so if you should not be reading this sort of material, or if
you are likely to be offended by it, you are advised to read no further.

PART 2: The Wagtails begin their adventure. We are introduced to two older
boys who become their rivals.

Characters:
Mrs Walton
Simon and Robin (her sons, aged 12 and 10)
Joseph (Joe) and Timmy (cousins, aged 13 and 11)
Nev (16) and Paddy (14), gypsy boys


The boys awoke early and, washed and dressed, they were soon tucking into a
breakfast of bacon and eggs. They were all excited about the day ahead, the
first day of their holidays.

After they had finished, they said their goodbyes to Mrs Walton, who was
rather looking forward to a peaceful day without the children around her
feet. She reminded them to be home by four o'clock, when tea would be
ready. She handed her eldest son, Simon, a duffel bag containing some
drinks and sandwiches for their lunch and waved them off as they dashed
down the dirt track that took them to the lakeside.

At the boathouse, they made preparations to launch the little dinghy,
`Wagtail'.

"We need to share out the tasks," said Simon, "Like a proper crew."

"A crew of pirates!" yelled Timmy.

"Very well, a crew of pirates," Simon conceded.

"I should be the captain," Joe said imperiously, "After all, I'm the
oldest."

"As I'm the second oldest, I'll be the first mate," Simon continued, "You
can give the commands but I'll have all the most important tasks."

"What can I do?" Timmy asked.

"You will be an able seaman, of course!" Simon stated.

Joe sniggered. Able seaman indeed!

"What's the joke?" Simon quizzed.

"Oh, just something you said...I'll tell you about it later."

"Now, what about Robin?" Timmy asked, "Who will he be in our fearless
pirate crew?"

"Every ship needs a cabin-boy," Simon suggested.

"But I don't want to be a cabin-boy," grumbled Robin, "I want to be
something important."

"Didn't you know that the cabin-boy IS the most important member of the
crew?" Joe cajoled, "He has to keep a look-out for sea-monsters and
treasure islands..."

"...and he has to raise the flags," Simon joined in.

"...and he must be brave when under attack from desperate cut-throat
enemies!" said Joe.

Little Robin beamed from ear-to-ear, convinced he was now the key member of
the ship's crew. Then his face changed. "Will there really be cut-throat
enemies?" he asked.

"Perhaps," said Joe, "But we'll be ready for `em, won't we lads!"

"Hurrah!" shouted Timmy.

"And we'll shoot `em with our cannons and batter `em with our swords," Joe
continued, joining in the game with as much enthusiasm as the youngest
boys.

"You'll be able to use your cutlass!" Simon chortled.

Joe blushed, thinking immediately of how the previous night Simon had
remarked about the curved nature of the older boy's erection. He didn't
want to encourage Simon's sauciness with the other boys there and quickly
found a way to defuse the situation.

"Silence in the ranks!" he ordered, "Prepare to weigh anchor!"

Everything was made ready and Simon, an experienced sailor despite his
years, double checked.

"All ship shape, Captain!" he jested with a merry salute.

Then he handed out the rather cumbersome cork life jackets that his mother
always insisted they wore. Once ready, they cast off from the mooring and
rowed the dinghy into the bright sunshine and open water.


...


Across the lake, two teenagers were about to get under sail in another
dinghy. Nev and Paddy were gypsy boys. Rather wild in character they were
barely schooled. That aside, they were skilful with their hands and could
manage all kinds of work that other boys of their age couldn't
contemplate. They lived amongst a group of travellers who went from place
to place across the Lake District, picking up odd jobs and farm work
whenever they could. It was a tough life but there was a strong sense of
community and loyalty among the small group.

The boys could be crafty at times, indeed Nev was rather idle by nature,
and they would often find ways to get out of working if they could get away
with it. On this particular morning, they were supposed to be high on a
hillside repairing dilapidated fences for the local landowner. That gave
them an ideal opportunity to shirk their responsibilities, the fences could
wait. For now, the warm sunshine was asking to be enjoyed and an excursion
in their dinghy seemed to beckon.

They had `found' the dinghy the previous year at a small mooring a few
miles further down the edge of the lake. Now, they kept it cleverly
concealed amongst a clump of willow trees. As long as they never sailed it
too close to where they had discovered it then reckoned they would get away
with the `borrowing' for as long as they wished. Their uncle, who had
served in the Royal Navy during the Great War, had taught them some basic
techniques of sailing and with ingenuity and practice the boys had become
quite able.

The dinghy was named `Spartan', an obvious allusion to the Greek warriors
of a past age. Their uncle had told them a little of the Spartans and the
idea that their vessel was named after a race famed for their bravery and
fierceness held much appeal for the two rough-and-tumble teens.

In appearance, the two boys were like chalk and cheese. Nev was a strapping
sixteen-year-old, broad-shouldered and muscular. Paddy, on the other hand,
was a rather small-framed fourteen-year-old. Whereas Nev had short-cropped
dark hair, Paddy was noted for his ginger curls – an indication of his
Irish heritage. He idolised the older boy and followed in his shadow quite
happily, which suited Nev as he always liked to be the one in charge.

Both boys wore heavy, canvas trousers and sturdy boots. They had already
discarded their shirts to enjoy the sunny weather. Their rugged, outdoor
life gave a bronzed sheen to their toned physiques although, more often
than not, they were rather grubby from dirt!

"Are we ready to set off?" asked the younger boy, Paddy.

"Aye, nearly," replied Nev, "But come up here first."

Nev was standing up from the water's edge beside a dense clump of hazels
where they stashed things for the boat. He beckoned Paddy to join him.

"What now? Ain't we got all we need?" Paddy enquired, scrambling up the
slope to join his friend.

"There's one thing I need before we go," Nev grinned.

"Oh, no! Not that again," Paddy complained, "Don't you ever need a rest?"

"A rest from buggering you?" Nev smiled, "You know that I'm always on the
horn!"

"You're worse than the bloody animals!"

"It's mother nature, ain't it," Nev continued, "Them sheep and cows like to
rut and so do I."

By this stage, he had ushered Paddy into the shrubs and bushes out of
view. Despite his protestation, Paddy could think of few things in life
that bettered the feeling he got when Nev had his cock right up his bum. He
was already untying the thick string that served as his belt.

"Kneel down just there," Nev ordered, pointing to a patch of grass.

Paddy pulled his trousers down to his knees and knelt. His grimy
undershorts were long overdue a wash but perfectly suited his ragged-boy
character. Nev got down between Paddy's legs and unfastened the front of
his trousers. He wasn't wearing any underwear and his half-hard prick
flopped into the open. He squeezed and fondled it to full stiffness with
one hand as he eagerly prised Paddy's shorts down with the other. It was
always beguiled by the whiteness of Paddy's bottom against the swarthiness
of the rest of him.

Nev was now fully erect. His cock, at more than six inches, was yet another
sign of a youth on the cusp of manhood. It stood out from a thick bush of
pubes that formed a neat triangle before threading their way up in a
delicate happy trail to his navel. His pendulous balls dangled in a
low-hanging scrotum.

He looked down at Paddy's exposed rear and let a gob of spittle dribble
from his mouth towards the boy's bum. His accuracy was impeccable and the
spit trickled down the crack and onto the puckered hole. Next, he spat
again but this time onto his palm. He then used this on the head of his
cock until it was glistening in the sunshine. He then pressed the tip
against the boy's orifice.

"Hold tight, my big'un's about to poke thee!" he muttered.

Paddy held his breath. He'd been fucked like this plenty of times but it
still hurt a little at the start.

Nev pushed ahead roughly. This was far removed from love-making, it was all
about self-gratification. Paddy whimpered as the fat cock invaded his most
intimate spot but, after a few thrusts in and out, his discomfort
subsided. Nev's cock was now right up him, finding the little place deep
inside that felt so good. He could never describe in words the sensation it
gave him, all he knew was that only Nev had found it and he could carry on
doing so for as many times as he liked.

Nev fucked him hard, gripping the boy's buttocks and squeezing them
together to augment the tightness. Paddy mewled with each stroke, his
little, half-hard cock wobbling beneath.

"You likes that buggering, don't `e!" Nev panted. His pace quickened and
then suddenly stopped as his cock fired pulse after pulse of thick teencum
into the boy's chute. For a few seconds they froze, enjoying the last
moments of the older boy's orgasm. Nev withdrew his softening cock and
stood.

"Finish yerself, laddie!" he ordered.

Nev had occasionally brought Paddy to orgasm before but the younger teen
had learned to accept that he usually had to finish off by himself. He
turned over and lay on his back. His stiff cock was about four-and-a-half
inches and nestled in a pretty tuft of pubes. They were not as gingery as
his hair but the sunlight caught their red hue alluringly. As he wanked,
his little balls jiggled about in their hairless bag.

Nev had gone off into the bushes to find some leaves to clean himself
up. Left alone, Paddy used the opportunity to finger his own hole, feeling
the rawness and stickiness of it. He quickly peaked, ejaculating a string
of creamy fluid onto his smooth belly.


...


Thus, on that bright June morning, and on opposite sides of the sparkling
lake, two little vessels got underway. Looking for some breeze, they tacked
hither and thither and gradually drew closer.

Although Joe was designated captain of `Wagtail' he really didn't know that
much about sailing and left that to Simon, contenting himself with guiding
the tiller. Timmy was sat on one side, drifting a hand into the water and
wondering if there were mermaids in the murky lake. Robin was sat in the
prow, dutifully following his orders as cabin-boy and look-out. His sharp
vision was the first to spot the other dinghy.

"Captain!" he called out, "I see another ship out there. I reckon they're
scouting for pirates!"

"Pass me the telescope, please," Joe responded.

"You don't have to say please," Simon laughed, "You're the captain, so you
should just give orders."

"Very well, able seaman (another chuckle)...pass me the telescope!"

There was a small box on the boat containing all kinds of useful
things. Timmy rummaged inside, took out a rather battered telescope and
handed it to his brother. Joe scanned the horizon until he saw the other
dinghy.

"I think you're right, cabin-boy Robin," he said, going along with the
adventure, "An enemy vessel unless I'm very much mistaken. There's a crew
of two rough-looking rapscallions and they are heading towards us! Turn us
around, first mate, we'll see if we can outrun them."

Simon took control. "Ready about...Lee Ho!" he called. The boom swung
across and the little vessel swung about, it's sail catching the wind.

In the other dinghy, Paddy had spotted `Wagtail'.

"It's another boat," he remarked, "Full of little nippers!"

"Let's catch up with `em," Nev replied.

A race was on. Robin squealed with excitement as the older boys did their
best to make good speed but `Spartan' was gaining on them. Before very
long, she had almost drawn level. Timmy could even read the lettering on
her prow.

"She's called Spartan," he called out, "and I don't much like the look of
her crew!"

"Faster! Faster!" pleaded Robin.

From the other boat, the two older teens were shouting and waving their
fists.

"Get off our lake, you little bastards!" yelled Paddy.

"He said a rude word," said Timmy, "They're bad boys!"

The race continued but now it was `Wagtail' who had the edge. Simon tacked
her skilfully and she was soon leaving `Spartan' behind. Realising they
wouldn't catch them, Nev decided to give up the chase.

"We'll fucking get you next time!" he called angrily, then steered away.

"They are bad boys," said Joe, "Let's hope we don't meet up with them
again."


...


At bedtime that evening, Joe and Simon were discussing the excitement of
the day.

"Those bullies were a bit scary, weren't they?" said Simon.

"Just a bit," Joe replied, "I'm glad that you and I put on a brave face. I
think Robin and Timmy were really rather frightened."

"I don't expect we'll ever see them again, so let's not worry about it,"
said Simon, climbing into bed.

"Shall I sit with you at your end of the bed?" Joe asked. He was delighted
when Simon patted the bed beside him and grinned wickedly.

The two boys hadn't bothered to wear pyjamas, knowing full well that some
`fun' was sure to follow. They sat side-by-side quite naked.

"By the way," Simon said, "What was the joke that made you laugh this
morning?"

"Which joke was that?"

"The bit about able seaman?"

"Oh, yes," laughed Joe, "I remember now."

"Why was that funny?"

"Do you know what semen is?"

"Semen? Yes, it's another word for sailors, isn't it?"

"No, not seamen...semen!"

That's the same word, silly!"

"No, you spell it differently...it is S,E,M,E,N."

"So, what does that kind of semen mean?"

"Well, last term at school our headmaster spoke to the oldest boys like me
and he told us all about growing up and such like. He said that the sticky
stuff that comes out of your willy..."

"...you mean spunk?"

"Yes, spunk. The correct word for spunk is semen."

"It never is! That's daft!"

"It's the truth, I promise."

"Well, I prefer to call it spunk. Spunk sounds a lot more sexy...spunk,
spunk!"

Their discussion had clearly excited them as their cocks were now standing
proud.

"By the look of things, I think our willies are trying to tell us
something," Joe chuckled.

"And what might that be, dear cousin?" Simon replied.

"They are telling us that it is time to make some spunk."

"Let's do one another, like last night," Simon suggested.

"My willy first, or yours?"

"I'll do you, lay back."

Joe lay back on the bed and Simon sat beside him. He took the older boy's
cock and began to wank him slowly. Joe closed his eyes and relished the
sensation of his cousin's hand on his erection.

"You know these?" asked Simon, momentarily stroking Joe's hairless balls.

"What about them?"

"A boy at school said they grow hairy as you get older, is that true?"

"I think so, yes."

"I wonder if those boys we saw today have hairy ones?" Simon pondered.

"I prefer little hairless ones like yours," Joe grinned, and he reached a
hand over to tickle Simon's sweet nuggets.

Simon continued to wank his cousin and it wasn't long before he came. A
little squirt of fluid was soon dribbling down Simon's fingers.

"Have you ever tasted it?" Joe asked.

"I've tasted my goo, yes," Simon replied, "But no-one else's."

"I dare you to taste it," challenged Joe.

Simon put his sticky fingers to his mouth and licked at the spunk with the
tip of his tongue.

"It's warm and a bit salt," he said. He took a longer lick. "But it's quite
nice, really!"

"Your turn now," said Joe, sitting up. Simon lay down and Joe fondled the
little pole.

"That's nice, Joe," Simon muttered, "Keep going."

Joe wanked the youngster until he felt his body stiffen. The boy orgasmed,
oozing a pearly drop of cum from his pretty cock. Joe bent over and kissed
the throbbing cocklet then ran his tongue up its length and over the head,
licking up the sweet juice.

Both boys sated, they lay down side-by-side.

"Can you sleep at this end with me?" Simon whispered.

Joe didn't speak. Putting an arm around Simon and cuddling him said more
than words ever could.


...


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