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Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 44 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 44 “Tell me what you two get up to,” I murmured. I was lying on my bed, propped up by two pillows. Edward, still hard, and Gordon, soft after his first spectacular orgasm, were snuggled up on either side of me. “Are you the only wicked boys in the choir?” “We’re the only two who like being fucked, if that’s what you mean. We’re certainly not the only two who’ve discovered what our cocks are really for. You should see what goes on in the dormitory.” “I can imagine, but that’s all boys together, right? You two seem to have expanded your ambitions. Do the undergraduates in the choir get to play too?” Edward snorted. “Try and stop them – well, try and stop the queer ones. Are you queer, Dab? I am. I love it.” It wasn’t really my job to suggest that at 12 his decision to be queer was perhaps a little premature, so I merely agreed that I was indeed in the same camp. Gordon said that only three of the choirmen were interested in “us trebles”, a point of view amended by Edward’s “as far as we know”. All three had, at some stage in the last four terms – that being the period when the two of them had been in the choir – made advances to one or other of them: advances which had been encouraged and which had led to repeat assignations. “We agreed ages ago that we would share any info about who fancied either of us, and who we wanted to let fuck us.” I didn’t seek any details – much better that if I were to encounter any of the choirmen once I came up I wouldn’t be aware that he and I had ploughed the same furrow. “Does – what’s his name? – Colin know about your affairs?” This seemed to be the most likely leakage connecting Bell with whatever was going on. Edward said that it paid everyone involved to be aware of no more than he needed to know. “Don’t be such a pompous ass, Ed, Dab’s only asking if Colin knows. Colin has arse rights to any boy, but he’s sensible enough to tread carefully. He’s fucked both of us but we don’t think he’s fucked any of the others. Not yet anyway, but it’s only February.” Edward said that he and Gordon sucked Colin’s cock pretty often, and he knew that at least one other treble was similarly called upon to perform. Gordon pointed out that I had asked whether Colin knew about what they got up to. “No. He may guess that three of the men take us into bed, but he’s careful not to know. And in case you’re wondering, Dab, no-one knows we’re here. Are you ready for more?” A mere 15 minutes had passed, but the brave lad thought it worth sending a hand down to my cock to test for any kind of response. I smiled. “I don’t think your hand is the most accurate bit of you to make that decision,” but Edward, still possessed of all the spunk he had arrived with, beat him to it and his lips were soon doing nice things to me – things the niceness of which were rapidly reawakening my interest. “Much more of that and I’ll cum in your mouth, Edward. Is that where you really want it?” Edward disengaged. “I want both, Dab, and no doubt we’ll have oodles of chances next year. But today I want it up my arse. You’ve fucked Gordon and if you don’t fuck me as well then he’s going to keep on bragging about how good it was and I’ll have to thump him to shut him up. I don’t think Colin will take kindly to having the second prettiest of his cherubs sporting a black eye.” Gordon took none of this seriously, I was pleased to note, not even the ‘second prettiest’ bit. “Go fuck yourself, Edward, you know we’re both equally pretty. Colin’s told us often enough.” “If I am to fuck you then, Edward, it’s time I started.” Edward was a bit taken aback by this. “I thought you said we had until we had to get ready for evensong. That’s not for two hours.” I turned to Gordon. “I’m sorry about this, Gordon – next time he goes first. But you can join in if you like. Edward, what makes you think I won’t need most of the two hours?” Edward’s lascivious grin made it clear that the idea of being fucked – or being prepared to be fucked – for two hours was highly agreeable. “Get on your back then, lad, I want to enjoy getting you ready. You saw what I did with Gordon, but then I was keen to fuck a nice innocent 12-year-old. Now that my balls have had a nice little exercise I can keep my cock under control for much longer, even though the second innocent 12-year-old is just as sexy.” “Aint no innocent 12-year-olds here, Dab, but if you can make do with one stained through and through with sin and wickedness then I’m your man,” said Edward, wriggling into a comfortable position on my bed. “Boy,” I said, “they’re much more my cup of tea.” He needed no instruction about the placement of his knees. I was down between his legs paying homage to his arse – his gorgeous arse – as soon as he was displaying kilis escort the treasures. Hairless, naturally, but as far as size was concerned he had the sexual equipment of a boy a god couple of years older. His balls were of a decent size and his cock had clearly left ‘decent size’ some time earlier. It was hard of course (I wish I could remember how big it had been when we started, but then my eyes were only for Gordon: I would have to study it after we’d finished) and a good 6 inches of uncut randy boyhood. If his development was as advanced in his balls as it was in his cock then when he came it would be worth seeing – and worth tasting too. If I managed things carefully he would cum on his belly long before my cock got anywhere near his arse. I bent forward; my eyes had feasted long enough. I placed my lips an inch from his arsehole and blew gently. The cold of my breath made him twitch. I blew again. This time he was expecting it and I saw a slight movement … the third breath led to a further movement – his arse was gently opening. I rewarded him with a kiss and his arse lips actually moved as though they were kissing me back. I hadn’t expected that – Edward was evidently a highly-experienced bottom. Time to step back a little, Dab, you said you could keep going for damn nearly two hours. I put both hands under his hips and hoisted his arse off the bed. “Mmm, I like what you’re doing, Dab, no-one’s done this before.” My tongue made initial contact with Edward’s body where his arse crack started at the base of his spine. (I will spare you his noises as the next hour progressed, but you may take it that I was glad to have sported my oak to keep the sound as muffled as possible.) My tongue gradually ventured further and further, returning whence it had started before each forward journey began. After several minutes it had reached his arsehole, which I could see was red and surrounded with engorged lips. My tongue skipped over them each time it travelled nearer and nearer to his balls. Suddenly, after about ten minutes I took one of his balls into my mouth (“aaah!”) and gently rolled it in my mouth; the second ball received the same treatment a few minutes later, and I noticed that the pool of pre-cum on his belly was worth pointing out to Gordon. “You can lick that up if you want, but do not touch his cock. OK?” Gordon needed no second invitation, lapping up Edward’s bounty with gusto. Not a new thing then. “Oh, for God’s sake, Dab, fuck me before I burst.” I moved up to his face and looked him in the eyes. “No, little one, you must be patient. I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready.” I touched my lips to his and allowed our tongues a brief moment of contact. I wanted him screaming for release when release came. I went back down to paradise alley. This time I went straight for his arse lips (“about fucking time … aaah!”), the latter remark being occasioned by my tongue going into him. I can’t get my tongue far in, but judging from his reaction no-one had got any tongue up his arse before. “I’m near, Dab,” he breathed. “Do you want it in your mouth, Gordon?” I said, “if so, get over here.” He was in position before I’d finished asking him, his head resting on Edward’s belly – already heaving as his muscles began to contract – and his eyes glued to the foreskin-retracted head of his friend’s cock, glistening with already-delivered promise – promise of more to come – and, his mouth open, he waited. I pushed a finger in all the way. Edward gave a cry and a stream of adolescent spunk shot from his cock straight into Gordon’s mouth … and another … Gordon moved forward and if there were more shots they were invisible. The rippling muscles on Edward’s belly showed that there had in fact been six volleys of spunk altogether, all gratefully and greedily consumed by Gordon. While this was happening my finger stayed where it was – deep inside the boy, but not seeking his prostate. Not yet. Gordon, his mouth full (as I was to discover) of his friend’s spunk, moved to Edward’s face. Both boys had smiles; both both were looking into the other’s eyes; both boys nodded; lips were joined; spunk was shared, mixed with active tongues. These two weren’t just fellow trebles, I decided, or even just fellow fuck-buddies. No, there was emotional attachment there. I smiled – I was probably grinning like an ape, but I smiled inside – this was the sort of thing Billy and I got up to, if the emotion-ometer was to be believed. Give them time, Dab, there’s no hurry. Edward’s tongue is busy inside Gordon’s mouth; Edward’s sperms are busy swimming their futile journey into the blind alley that is Gordon’s stomach; my finger is deep inside the hot furnace that is Edward’s arse’ my cock is hard, but in no hurry (I have it well trained); I allow the two boys their moment – their long languorous moment – of union. After a couple of minutes Gordon detaches himself. “Your spunk tastes fantastic, Edward. I think Dab’s made it richer than usual.” I was inclined to agree, but kept my peace, “Time to carry on?” I said. “Mmm.” My tongue reprised, but in a shortened form, its earlier journeys. It took only five minutes before I ventured from sucking his second testicle to placing my tongue at the root of his cock – now fully erect again – and slowly licking up its underside, along kıbrıs escort his swollen urethra. I did this half a dozen times (with increasing difficulty as poor Edward was writhing) before finally going the extra inch and – for the first time – making tongue-glans contact “ah Christ! at last!” His recently-come cock tasted spicy. Gordon had done a good job, but my skilled tongue had made Edward leak more, and the drops oozing made for an invigorating cocktail of flavours – boy most obvious among them. I spent several minutes with his cock in my mouth, my tongue and lips seeking (and finding) all the flavours that made Edward Edward. Edward was moaning quietly. “Oh fuck, Dab, this is unreal. No-one’s done this to me before. When are you going to fuck me, you fucking stud, you?” No-one had called me a stud before, and I wasn’t wholly convinced it was a compliment. Studs surely just stuck it in and went for it, didn’t they? Whereas what I was doing was much more artistic, surely? Still, I forgave him – after all, if I was doing my job properly his brain wasn’t expected to be 100% focused on choosing the precise words from his vocabulary. What really mattered was that he wanted to be fucked. I knew – as he did not – that his wish would soon be met. “Your cock tastes nice, Edward,” I said, “I think I’ll want to sample it again one day.” Both boys laughed. “Try and keep yourself away,” said Gordon. Gordon, I noticed, was stroking his cock as the activity on the bed progressed. “Keep at it,” I said, “if you want to wank make sure you cum on his belly.” “No,” protested Edward, “face.” I was impressed. Having someone cum on your face is a requirement normally associated with lads rather older than 12. Still, I wasn’t going to complain. Time to get on with it, Dab, I thought. I left a last lingering lick on Edward’s cock and wriggled down the bed. A minute or two reminding his arse that it should open to welcome an invader … the invader’s wet cockhead rubbing over the lip-guardians to assure it that it would be welcome … the lips signalling that ‘welcome’ was an understatement … and at last, rather more than 50 minutes since Edward’s knees joined his ears, my cock started to enter his body. “At fucking last, Dab.” “At fucking last, Edward: this is where the fun really starts,” I whispered. I decided that this fuck would be hard and deep – I knew he would be expecting a long slow one, given all that earlier talk about two hours being needed – and the more memorable therefore for being unexpected. I had long ago realised that there would be a lot more fucks with these two in the next year or two. All the more reason to make this one special. So all the way in hard. “Oooh! yessss!” Out again, pause, all the way in hard. Rather to my surprise I lasted a lot longer than usual – it was getting on for ten minutes before I got the scrotum-signal that things were urgent. I accelerated … “nearly there” … “yeah” (panted) “fill me, Dab, I’m there too” … at last my balls fired one, two, three, four hard jets as far up this boy as I could, five, six, dribbles really … he came, his arse muscle tightening on me, forcing out two more little jets. Ah fuck! Edward, you’re good, kid … ah fuck, Dab, you’re good. This sweaty mutual admiration moment lasted a couple of minutes. I slipped out, my cock followed by a worthwhile leakage of spunk. Gordon, no slouch when it came to such things, had moved to where his next feast was likely to manifest itself. I saw what he wanted, so moved out of the way, rolling onto my back. We didn’t wank spunk stains on the bed after all. “Sort him first,” I muttered. Gordon needed no second invitation. It was obvious they were in the habit of harvesting cum from each other’s arses, and Gordon was in no hurry to reap his reward. I lay back enjoying the sight of two 12-year-old cum-fiends enjoying themselves. On this occasion there was no sharing however. When Gordon had finished he turned to me. “Can Edward do you, Dab? Is that OK?” It was fine by me, I thought, I don’t care which of them takes my cock into his mouth. “I should be delighted,” I said, “come and get it, Edward.” He made a thorough job. By the time I was returned to normal it was well after 5.30. “Do you need to shower?” “Not, there’s not time,” said Edward, “but the cleaning up’s been pretty efficient, hasn’t it. If anyone sniffs the signs of wickedness we’ll soon hear about it.” “Does that bother you?” “God no. The only ones who know the signs are the only ones who fuck us. They may be curious to know who’s been up there, but we won’t let on. Will we?” Gordon agreed. “We don’t tell, Dab.” “Off you go them,” I said, “see you in October.” “See you in half an hour, more like,” said Edward as he climbed back into his clothes. Two all-too-brief kisses and they were gone, leaving only a spunky memory. Half an hour later two cherubs smiled faintly from within their surplices. We didn’t sing about the coming of the Lord that time, thank goodness. ***** Back at school the routine seemed to drag. Solly did his best (as did I – it was the least I could do) but he paled beside Edward and Gordon, particularly sweet sexy Edward. Edward, who lived in London … could I find a way of getting him on his own with me before October? Bell was keen to hear about how kırıkkale escort things had gone. I was happy to tell him about the extended interview, and he was amused to hear about the musical aspects. “I’m glad Mr Fagan gave me such a thorough course, not least because as well as helping with the interview he opened my ears to things I find I love.” Bell smiled. “I’m glad, and I hope there were other benefits.” I smiled: I wasn’t planning to give anything away. He made it easy for me however. “Colin Marsh and I were contemporaries as undergraduates at Fisher before you were born, and our interests have remained unchanged since then. No” – for he saw me about to interrupt – “I have not said anything regarding you, Cunliffe, not in any detail, that is – merely that you were a kindred spirit who should be welcomed.” I had no idea what to make of this. “You teach me Maths, but that’s all. Prendergast and Fagan have taken the matter of student instruction a little further – always welcome of course – but you …” I didn’t finish the sentence. “No, you’re right, Cunliffe … Dab, I think” (I smiled) “I restrict myself within the school. Not always easy, as I’m sure you can understand.” I nodded. “Besides,” he went on, “you are outside my range of interests.” He paused; I said nothing – my being too old for him (not too young, surely) was no great disappointment – and then quietly he went on. “If you were lucky enough to find time to entertain the delightful Edward Hughes then you will know where my preferences lie.” I nodded – even if I had said nothing the bloody red hair would have done for me. “A special boy,” I said. Bell smiled. “Indeed. But let us say no more … Dab. Now, differential equations, I think.” ***** That term went uneventfully. My head was stuffed with differential equations and other such things. My arse was stuffed from time to time by Will, who was always willing to grab a fuck where he could. And Solly’s arse was rarely undisturbed for more than 24 hours. It was strange that in our fifth year the range of boys with whom we had sex was so restricted: in our Pup years there were a dozen or more people to fuck with: now there were only a handful. Still, Billy and Jack awaited as the Easter holidays approached. ***** When Rivers turned up in the Rolls he wasn’t alone. Billy was with him. “This is nice,” I said, “we should have thought of this years ago.” “We need to talk,” said Rivers. “While you’ve been filling your head with education Billy has been learning something far more useful.” I turned to my lover with an enquiring look, but he said nothing. The two of them must have planned all this, I thought. “Billy had passed his driving test,” said Rivers, “and it’s been a big secret.” Billy could contain himself no longer. “I’ve been having lessons since you went back to school, and Rivers said I was ready to sit the test. I did it last week, and I passed.” “Well done,” I said, “but why? Can’t Rivers drive you about?” Rivers snorted. “I can’t drive everyone who asks, Dab, it doesn’t work like that. You’re my employer, and I drive you. Billy doesn’t get to be driven just because he’s your boyfriend.” Billy said nothing. Was there more to be said? It was Rivers who broke the silence. “The Rolls is expensive to run, Dab, and it runs on petrol. They’ve decided that petrol will be phased out soon – well, not that soon, but in the next 8 years – so we will need to buy something else. Billy and I have talked about this, now that he’s passed, and we have a plan for you.” “Let’s hear it,” I said. This was all very unexpected. I knew about the petrol business of course – the government had been screwing up its courage on that issue for ages – but I hadn’t given any thought to what it might mean. Apart from the Rolls we had a lot of agricultural machinery which would probably also be affected. Bugger. It would mean a session with Dunstable. Billy took up the cudgels. “If we buy an electro then you and I can drive about in it ourselves. Or I can drive until you pass your test, Dab.” I hadn’t thought about learning to drive, but now that Billy had planted the seed I began to like the idea. Electros came in all sizes by then, and a little sporty type might be quite fun. “So they do a Rolls electro?” I asked. Rivers thought not. “There’s no great hurry though.” By the time we got home Billy and I had had discussed the matter of an electro (I hadn’t told him, but I planned to get Rivers on one side to sort out buying one for Billy to use, and for me to learn on) and were already sketching out the tour we would make in the Summer holidays. Rivers laughed. “Pass your test first, Dab, before you start planning your first adventure.” I’ll get you, I thought, I’ll have licked this thing sooner than you think. A plan was forming – a plan neither Rivers nor Billy would know about. Jack was jumping up and down as we drove up. He was always a delight to see – his enthusiasm at having me back was infectious. He restrained himself until I was out of the Rolls then flung himself at me. “Welcome home, Dab,” he murmured, “I’ve so much to tell you.” I’ve got a fair amount to tell you too, I thought, deciding that my afternoon with Gordon and Edward might be something he’d wish to hear about. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 45 as my motoring skills – and other things – are advanced. Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

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