pan lang="EN-GB">
Because we were prefects by then, as you will remember, we were allowed a helper. A Fag as we were not allowed to call him. Ours was a boy called Warner, from the third form. A scrawny little runt who was always getting ill. He was not much good as a Fag either, always dropping things and getting in the way rather than helping. Dean wanted to fire him.
           ‘One night we were expecting him at eight as usual, to clean shoes or whatever, but he didn’t turn up. Instead, when there was a knock at the door and we shouted ‘enter Warner,’ far too grandly, someone else came in.
           ‘Who the hell are you?’ Dean said, still in his old-git voice.
           ‘Gould, sir,’ the lad replied nervously. ‘Warner is ill and I was told to come instead.’
           ‘How old are you boy?’ Dean eyed him suspiciously.
           ‘Old enough sir.’
           ‘A bit old to be fagging aren’t you?’ I asked. Usually the helpers where drawn from the younger boys, to teach them respect and all that crap. This lad was from the fifth form.
           ‘I am a new boy, sir. That’s why they sent me.’
           ‘Very well,’ Dean sighed. ‘You can start on the shoes.’
And Gould went to work on polishing our shoes as we sat and stared into the fire. After a while I noticed that Dean was glancing more and more at the boy who was kneeling just off to my left, his back to us. And then Dean nudged me and nodded his head towards the lad. I raised my eyebrows, I didn’t know what he was getting at. He nodded again and grinned.
Then I realised what he was trying to say. As Gould had knelt and bent forwards to do his work, his shirt had come away from his trousers revealing the top of his arse. Builder’s but we’d call it now. He was quite a slim lad, not fat in any way but not scrawny and unattractive like Warner. His hair was cut in the uniform short back and sides and it was dark, his shoulders were broad and as he worked I could see that he had muscles on his arms.
           ‘Quite a pleasing sight eh, Stuart?’ Dean smirked at me.
           ‘Indeed it is Dean,’ I smiled back. I knew what he was getting at.
           ‘Very fuckable.’ Dean dropped his stupid accent and his own, Liverpudlian one sounded through the room.
The boy stopped polishing the shoes and froze.
           ‘Why have you stopped lad?’ Dean asked and the boy started his work again. ‘Come here.’
Obediently the lad stood up and turned to face us. His face was red, his cheeks glowing with embarrassment and his eyes betraying just a little fear.
           ‘No need to be nervous,’ Dean said. ‘We’re two of the school’s prefects. You do well by us and we’ll look after you. O.k.?
           ‘Yes sir,’ he boy replied meekly.
           ‘Good. Now come and stand in front of my friend Stuart so that he can take a good look at you.’
The boy did as he was told, putting down his brushes first and wiping his hands on a cloth before coming to stand facing me.
I was able to take a proper look at him then. His face was attractive enough, with wide brown eyes, thin eyebrows and cheek bones that defined its shape. His skin was smooth, no sign of any acne or blemish and with only a faint hint of fluff starting to shadow beneath his nose. He stood with his hands by his sides and looked at me with nervously.
           ‘Tell me… what’s your name? Gould. Tell me Gould, what do you like most about what you see?’ Dean asked.
           ‘Sir?’ The boy did not understand.
           ‘My friend, Stuart. What do you like best about him?
           ‘I don’t know sir.’
           ‘Of course you must now something.’ Dean sounded like a master then, using the standard teacher reply to a boy saying he didn’t know. ‘What do you like most about what you see?’
           ‘Er…’ the lad hesitated.
           ‘It’s o.k. Gould,’ I reassured him. ‘You can say whatever you like. You won’t get in trouble.’
           ‘Thank you sir,’ he smiled a little smile of relief and I sensed him relax a bit. ‘Well, I like that he has a kind face.’
           ‘Bloody good, Gould,’ Dean said. ‘What else?’
           ‘That he needs a shave.’
Dean laughed and swigged some more gin.
           ‘Is that his best feature?’ he asked.
           ‘I don’t know sir,’ Gould replied.
           ‘No, you wouldn’t,’ Dean mumbled. ‘Shall I tell you what his best feature is? Would you like to know?’
The lad was still looking at me and I stared right back. Something was happening between us. I knew what Dean was up to and I think that Gould knew it then too. The good thing was that he didn’t seem to mind, like he knew what to expect and was looking forward to what was going to happen. That relaxed me and it must have relaxed him.
           ‘Yes please sir,’ he said.
           ‘Stuart’s best feature,’ Dean emphasised the word best . ‘Are his balls.’
There was a silence during which I slowly raised an eyebrow and the corner of my mouth.
           ‘What’s your best feature, Gould?’
           ‘My tongue sir.’
He had also moved his mouth into a smile. Inside my trousers I could feel my cock become more sensitive.
           ‘O.k. Gould,’ Dean said sharply to attract his attention.
Gould looked over at him.
           ‘Stand between the two of us so that I can see you more clearly.’
He did as he was told.
           ‘Hands behind your back if you don’t mind. That’s it. So Gould, what do you think my best feature is?’
           ‘Your accent sir,’ the boy said without hesitation.
           ‘My accent?’ Dean was not expecting that. ‘What’s so special about that?’
           ‘I like it sir.’
           ‘Does it turn you on?’
           ‘Sir?’
           ‘I think it does,’ I said and pointed to the boy’s crotch.
Behind his fly something was starting to stir. The front of his tight black trousers was now neatly shaped with a smooth mound, as if his dick was pointing downwards but wanting to stick straight out.
           ‘Take your shirt off,’ Dean ordered. ‘We like to make sure our fag is fit and healthy.
The boy looked at me and I gave him a reassuring nod. He slowly unbuttoned his white shirt, all the time looking from me to Dean. He gave a little tug and the front came free from his waistband as he undid the last button. He opened the shirt up revealing his smooth chest, a reasonably flat stomach with only a hint of puppy fat, and two perfectly round nipples, dark against the white of his flesh. He let the shirt drop to the floor behind him and stood still again, his hands back by his sides.
           ‘What do you think is his best feature Stu?’ Dean asked me.
           ‘His obedience,’ I said without having to think.
           ‘Good point. But he may have others.’
           ‘Possibly.’
           ‘O.k. Gould, let’s see your feet. We like to make sure our fags have clean feet.’
The lad removed his shoes and his socks.
           ‘Look fine to me Dean,’ I said after inspecting them.
           ‘Quite. So, Gould. What do you think I am going to ask you to do now?’
           ‘I don’t know sir,’ he started to answer but realised that it was not a good reply. ‘Are you going to ask me to remove my trousers?’
           ‘No,’ said Dean stretching out his legs. ‘You are going to remove mine.’
The lad was a bit taken aback by that I think as he looked up, at me, then across to Dean, quickly. Dean just nodded and slouched as far back in his armchair as he could. With his legs out before him and his hips thrust upwards slightly the bulge in his trousers was very well defined. What he had not told Gould was that his best feature was, in fact, his cock. I’d seen it, tasted it and played with it on many occasions before.
Gould knelt down between Dean’s legs and undid his belt. Dean put his hands behind his head and watched as the boy slowly popped the first button on the fly. He undid each button carefully, like he knew that he had to do this slowly. And then he reached around to the sides, took the trousers by the waistband and started to tug them slowly downwards. Dean raised his arse a little and sighed as if this was boring him. Gould pulled at the material at the knees and the trousers started to slide down. The top of Dean’s white briefs came into view, a tumble of black hair appearing at the top for a second before his shirt fell over it. Gould stood and pulled the trousers by the hems of the legs, drawing them smoothly away from Dean’s dark, hairy legs. He dropped them to one side and resumed his attentive position.
           ‘Good lad,’ Dean said, looking down to admire the solid mass pressing from inside his tight briefs. ‘But you should still be on your knees.’
Gould knelt again, between Dean’s now parted legs. Dean undid his shirt as the boy watched, and revealed his chest. Defined, strong and covered with thick dark hair. Without saying anything he reached forward, took one of Gould’s hands and placed it on his chest. The boy was lent forward by this action and held an arm of the chair so that he did not touch any other part of Dean’s body. Dean took the boy’s wrist so that he could run the palm across his chest.
           ‘How does it feel?’ he asked; his voice soft.
           ‘Grown up,’ Gould replied.
Dean put his own hand on the lad’s chest and copied the movement. Then he let go of Gould’s hand and allowed the boy to explore his chest hair unaided. Dean flicked his fingertips across Gould’s nipples and the boy copied.
           ‘You are learning,’ Dean whispered and took the boys head in his other hand. He pulled him gently towards him and laid the boy’s cheek against his chest. ‘Listen to my heart,’ he said and started stroking the back of the boy’s head tenderly.
Gould now had nowhere to put his hands apart from around Dean’s wide chest, it looked like he was hugging him. Dean petted him for a while before wrapping his own arms around the boy and drawing the young body close against his own.
           ‘What can you feel against your tummy?’ Dean asked.
           ‘Your…’ Gould hesitated and I knew why.
           ‘You can use whatever words you like Gould,’ I reassured him. ‘You won’t get into trouble.’
           ‘Thank you sir. I can feel your prick.’
Dean lifted him back into a kneeling position and then stripped of his shirt to reveal his shoulders. He was now naked but for the white briefs, surrounded by his tangle of black hair. He lifted his feet from the floor, wrapped his legs around Gould’s body and pulled him forward. The lad shuffled on his knees until he was up against the edge of the chair. The Dean placed one hand on his head and gently pushed it down to his crotch.
           ‘Kiss it,’ he whispered. ‘Kiss it tenderly through the material, make it wet. Show me your best feature, show me what you can do with your tongue.’
I watched, my heart pounding, as the boy did as he was told. He tried to wrap his lips around the shape of Dean’s shaft. He held it between them and moved his head so that the cock slid to the side, free from its bent position, and then he manoeuvred it so that it was pointing upwards, lying flat against Dean’s body under the briefs. The lad made small biting gestures from the base to the tip which now lifted the briefs away and the wet, glistening tip of Dean’s cock poked out from above the waistband of the briefs. Dean pushed Gould’s head down and into the soft, springiness of his balls. I heard the lad’s tongue slurp around down there and saw the material darken with his moisture. Dean held the boy by the ears, operated his head as he tipped his own head back and closed his eyes.
           ‘Good work lad, that’s a good tongue,’ he said as he pressed the boy’s face into every part of his groin.
As I watched the two of them I slipped my shirt off, then took off my own trousers. My dick was constrained in my shorts but I left it alone, instead of touching it I played with my nipples, already hard and sensitive. Eventually Dean looked over to me and winked. I smiled back. He lifted the boy’s head from his wet crotch and Gould’s face was red, his lips slightly swollen from working on the material.
           ‘Stand up Gould,’ Dean said and again the boy obeyed without hesitation.
Now there was no mistaking the lad’s excitement. The front of his school trousers bulged desperately, his penis pointing rigidly to one side. I could see, in the changing flicker of the firelight that he was not as big as either of us two, but he was still as hard, still as keen.
           ‘What now?’ Dean asked hypothetically. ‘What shall we have him do now Stu?’
           ‘Come here lad,’ I gestured with a wink and the boy took a step to stand in front of me. His eyes fell immediately to my groin.
I sat up and forward in my chair so that my face was level with the front of the lad’s trousers. From the corner of my eye I could see Dean drinking and watching, he was breathing deeply. I put my hands on the side of Gould’s legs, wrapping my fingers around them and gripping tight for a while, feeling the strength of his muscles. They were firm enough, he was a fit lad. And then I moved my hands upwards, very, very slowly, all the time griping and letting go, like I was massaging them. Until I reached his hips, where I tried to see if I could touch my fingers around his waist. Although he was slim and my hands were big I could not quite touch my fingertips together. I left my hands slip down a little way, put one around the back and felt his arse.
           ‘Turn around,’ I said quietly and he did so. ‘He has a very firm backside, Dean,’ I said in a matter of fact way.
           ‘Nice,’ Dean said gulping a drink. ‘I expect you would like to fuck it wouldn’t you?’
I felt Gould tense for a second.
           ‘Do you know what I would really like Gould?’ I asked the boy.
           ‘No sir,’ he answered and his voice displayed nervousness again.
           ‘I would like to taste it.’
There was a pause. I looked at Dean who just grinned.
           ‘How sir?’ Gould asked meekly.
           ‘I will show you,’ I replied and pulled him towards me.
I rested my cheek against the small of his back and moved my hands to the front of his trousers. There, for the first time, I felt the hard little cock that strained inside. I scratched the tip of it through the material with my fingertips and felt Gould flinch. And then slowly I undid the buttons on his fly until his trousers dropped to the floor.
Now all three of us were wearing only our underwear; school standard and white, glowing in the firelight. His tight little buns were highlighted by the light and the stretch of the material and I ran my palm across one, feeling it fit perfectly in my hand.
           ‘Turn back again,’ I instructed and he did so. His hands covered his erection as if he were now embarrassed. ‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked him and signalled for Dean to pass the bottle.
           ‘A drink sir?’
           ‘Have you tasted gin before Gould?’
           ‘No sir.’
           ‘Would you like to? It’s what we prefects drink.’
           ‘Yes please sir,’ he nodded and watched as Dean passed me the bottle.
I held it up to Gould who went to take it.
           ‘Oh no,’ I said teasingly. ‘Not like that. Like this.’
I poured a little onto the front of my briefs, soaking them. Immediately my cock became visible, around it the darkness of my pubes showed through and beneath it the squashed shape of my large balls.
           ‘Kneel down Gould,’ Dean had taken over the instructing now.
The boy did as he was told. He knelt between my legs as I sat back and stretched out my legs as Dean had done.
           ‘You know what to do,’ Dean said and I watched as the boy’s head went into my lap.
The coldness of the alcohol was soon warmed by his tongue, soft but strong as it licked the front of my shorts. His face buried into the fleshy mound of my ball sack and his mouth gulped eagerly for any taste of the gin that it could find. He sucked in hard on the side of my cock, took my head into his mouth through the cotton, drew in deep on my flesh and sucked the liquid out of my briefs. I raised his head and looked into his eyes. They were wide, round with wonder.
           ‘Good?’
He nodded and licked all around his wet lips. I poured more gin into my lap, my cock twitching at the sudden cold, and then pushed his head down there again. This time he sucked and clawed with his eager mouth like he was dying of thirst. His hands gripped my hips, steadying himself, giving himself more leverage as he drank from my soaked groin.
I saw Dean stand and I watched as he came and stood beside us. His cock was still straining for release from his saliva soaked underwear and he was gripping it through the wet material. Without warning he pulled the lad up and shoved his face into his groin.
           ‘Suck on it,’ he ordered. ‘Get it out and suck on it now.’
The boy struggled with the briefs, got his hands inside and pulled them down quickly. Dean’s cock sprang out, slapped against the innocent face and was immediately lost as the boy impaled himself on the shaft.
           ‘Slowly boy,’ Dean calmed him a little.
He took the lad by the side of the head and showed him how to move slowly, gracefully up and down the shaft. Beneath its impressive length I could see his balls, tight now and swollen, almost vanishing up into his body. I knew he would soon be unloading his juice into the lad’s mouth but I didn’t want it to happen like that.
I slipped out of my chair and onto my knees behind Gould. I took him around the waist and pulled him back to sit on my lap. Dean’s cock fell from his moth and my friend looked down at me confused.
           ‘Not yet,’ I winked and he seemed to understand.
I could now feel my cock sliding through my wet briefs and up against the boy’s tight little arse crack. The wetness from the gin transferred and, when I lay Gould face down on the floor, I could see his underwear darkening where his arse had pressed against me. I took hold of his briefs and pulled them gently down to reveal his hairless, round arse. They came away and I threw them to one side.
Dean sat back in his chair, his cock flopping back against his firm belly and he lit a cigarette; happy to take a break while I played with our new helper. I reached for the gin and put it beside me. Then I slowly parted the boy’s legs, spreading them as wide as I thought was comfortable for him, and gazed in on his dark, wrinkled hole. I took the gin and carefully poured a little between his shoulder blades. He jerked at the sudden cold but then relaxed again as a trickle of alcohol ran downwards along his spine. I poured some more and the trickle became a stream. It reached the small of his back, gathered momentarily and then ran off to the side and onto the floor.
Before I wasted any more I knelt on all fours over the prone boy and started to lick it off. From his neck I travelled slowly downwards, feeling each rivet in his spine, massaging his flesh with my tongue, until I reached the pool at the small of his back where I drank. I sat back, took the bottle again and poured. This time the liquid fell between the crack of his arse and trickled over his arsehole before travelling beneath and out of sight. He flinched again as the liquid touched his most sensitive parts. I did not give it a moment to evaporate but started to drink again. Licking it, and him, from the top of his crack, further in, lower down, deeper until I could feel the change in contour and the tightness of his virgin hole against my tongue. I sucked on it, drawing in alcohol and boy sweat as I kneaded his cheeks, pulled them wider to allow my face further in. I felt him push his hips up to meet me, helping me, wanting me to explore more. I heard him gasp as he writhed and moan as he tried to force his arse into my face. Gripped him tighter, I lifted him and fucked him with my tongue.
And then I was aware that he was trying to kneel up. I moved back to allow it and saw Dean kneeling in front of the boy, his cock in one hand and the boy’s head in the other. In a second the boy was impaled on Dean’s monster rod again. I watched, looking along the young, slim body until my eyes came back to his little pink hole, dripping still with gin and saliva. I plunged in again with such force that I thrust him forward and heard him gag as Dean’s cock must have hit the back of his throat. A rhythm started, me fucking the lad with my tongue at one end and Dean with his cock at the other. I had him by the hips again, pulling him onto me and off Dean; then pushing him back onto my friend before dragging his arse into my face.
           ‘Fuck I’m going to come soon,’ I heard Dean complain and immediately I stopped. It still wasn’t the right time.
I sat back and pulled Gould onto my lap once more. My rigid cock slipped up between his cheeks and I felt his small balls rest on my larger, hairier ones. Dean grabbed for his suddenly free cock but I ordered him to leave it alone. He looked at me with is face all taught with desperation.
           ‘In a minute,’ I said and wrapped my arms around the lad.
Gould was panting and I could feel his heart racing as I held him to me.
           ‘Are you o.k.?’ I asked.
           ‘Yes sir,’ he gasped back, short of breath.
           ‘You sure?’
           ‘Uh hu. I mean yes sir.’
           ‘What’s your first name Gould?’
           ‘Alexander,’ he said and sounded confused. ‘Alex.’
           ‘O.k. Alex. You can call me Stuart now, but only in here ok?’
           ‘Yes sir.’
           ‘Alex, I’m going to fuck you now. Have you ever had another boy’s dick in your arse?’
           ‘No sir… No Stuart,’ he said and his nervousness was back and very apparent.
           ‘If you want me to stop, just say so, o.k.? And I will.’
           ‘O.k.’ he said quickly.
I let him go and told him to stand up as I sat back in my chair. Dean was still glaring at me, desperate to shoot his load and I almost smiled at his predicament. But my mind was on the feel of the cute boy’s virgin arse that was soon to be mine.
           ‘Let me see you Alex,’ I said and the boy turned to face me.
I saw his cock for the first time. Long, this, the foreskin pulled back to reveal an angry red head. Beneath it his balls were small and hung in a slightly wrinkled sack. Around his smooth penis was a short, almost imperceptible smattering of hair. I brought him to stand between my legs, lent forward and pursed my lips. Keeping them as tightly together as I could, I slowly drew him into my mouth. All the way until my forehead was pressed against his hairless belly. He tasted salty, almost bitter and had about him the musty smell of youth. My hands felt for his arse cheeks, I pulled them apart and brushed a finger over his hole.
And then there was the feel of rough stubble against my hands. Dean was behind the lad, feasting on his innocent arse, tongue fucking him again as I gave the lad his first proper blow job. Gould held onto my head and I could hear him start his moaning again. He kept running his hands across my cheeks as if he’d never felt unshaved flesh before, his fingers kept touching his cock and my lips as if he couldn’t believe that I was sucking him. I played with his little balls, tickling them as I used them to draw his cock into my mouth and he murmured ‘yes’ and ‘I like that sir,’ as I did so.
And then I heard him grunt out ‘oh no,’ and I knew he was about to come. Immediately I pushed him off me and held him still. He was panting desperately, sweat running down his chest. He tried to grip his twitching dick but I held his hands firmly against his side. Dean stood up too and left him alone. I saw Gould controlling himself, felt his arms tremble and heard his breathing regain a calmer rhythm. I watched his cock for ages, waiting while he recovered. He hadn’t come. I’d averted it just in time.
I let him go, lay back in my chair, gripped my cock with one hand and lubed it up with spit with the other. Gould looked at it and bit his lip.
           ‘It won’t hurt for long,’ I reassured him and he nodded his acquiescence.
Dean put his hands under the boy’s arms and with no effort lifted him from the ground. He placed him on my chair, one foot on either side of me, and supported him as Gould started to squat down. I guided my shaft with one hand until his legs prevented me from holding it. The lad gripped the side of the armchair and I gripped his waist. I felt Dean’s wide hands take my cock and I saw him kneel between my legs, guiding me towards the lad’s arsehole. I felt the tip of my penis touch the creased flesh, still slippery from the Gin and I felt the alcohol burn me delicately, heightening the sensation. Gould was looking at me, he looked even more nervous.
           ‘Just relax Alex,’ I reassured him and he flashed a thankful smile.
His cock had softened slightly so that it now fell forward, too long for the small balls that were tightening beneath it, out of proportion. The sight of its smoothness and the thought that this was a virgin fifth former really turned me on. And knowing that Dean was guiding my cock into him added to all that. I wanted to grab the boy and shove him onto me but I knew that that would be wrong for him. Instead I let him sink lower in his own time.
I felt heat around my glowing cock, I felt him open up as the first centimetre of my shaft penetrated him, and I saw his face tighten with pain. He stopped, held his breath, let it go slowly, beads of sweat gathering on his brow and running into his eyes. And hen he lowered a fraction more.
           ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry Stuart,’ he said.
           ‘That’s fine Alex, leave it.’
           ‘No, it’s o.k. I want to,’ he changed his mind. Took a deep breath and let himself go.
I felt his balls land on me, I felt my cock impale him and I felt his hole grab tight around my girth. He stifled a yell, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the chair. His head fell forward and his breathing started coming in short, sharp gasps. I lay there looking up at him until he opened his eyes. He forced a smile.
           ‘I’m o.k.’ he whispered.
           ‘Just go slow,’ Dean instructed, still kneeling between my legs. He was watching in close up as Gould lifted himself tentatively, paused and then slid himself down again.
This time the lad found it easier. And his long, flaccid cock flopped against my stomach. When he rose up again he left a patch of precum on me which glistened in the light from the fire. He started a slow rhythm, pushing himself up with his legs and his arms until the rim of my cock head started to stretch his sphincter, then he’d slide down again, letting me penetrate as far as he wanted before repeating the movement.
Once I knew that he was in control, had relaxed and was enjoying the new feeling, I relaxed too and began to notice what I felt: The heat from his arse, the smoothness of his thighs as I rested my hands on them, and something else. Dean’s tongue as he tried to push his face against my balls and lick them when Gould’s movement would allow. I reached for he boy’s cock, stroked it back to firmness, rubbed his own juice around the head with my thumbs. I played with his balls.
           ‘Feel good Alex?’
           ‘Oh yes sir,’ the boy panted back. ‘Feels really good. It doesn’t hurt anymore.’
           ‘You like to have an older boy’s cock in you?’
           ‘I like it very much sir.’
           ‘What do you like about it most?’ Dean had stood up and was now standing beside me, his cock still sticking straight out, swollen and ready.
           ‘I like the feel of it,’ Gould tried to say. ‘I like the way it stretches my arse. It makes my prick even harder, feeling Stuart’s prick inside me. I like to feel his hair against my arse. I like to see his face. I like to see that I’m making him happy.’
           ‘I like to watch your smooth little cock,’ Dean said as he stroked his own really slowly. ‘I like to watch my best friend burry his eighteen year old dick into a virgin.’
           ‘It’s making my balls ache,’ Gould said between gasps. ‘I can feel them getting tight. I like the way he’s wanking me.’
           ‘I’m not touching you,’ I said and the boy looked down. I’d stopped playing with his cock, it was fully hard again.
           ‘It feels like someone’s sucking on my cock as I’m sitting on his,’ Gould said in wonder. ‘I think it’s going to make me spunk up soon.’
           ‘Have you ever seen an older boy’s spunk?’ Dean asked him.
           ‘No sir, never. Only the boys in my dorm.’
           ‘Are their cocks as big as ours?’
           ‘No.’
           ‘Do they let you suck them?’
           ‘No.’
           ‘Do they let you sit on their cocks?’
           ‘No.’
           ‘He’s getting close,’ I said. I could feel his arse tighten and his breathing was getting faster.
           ‘Let us see you come off,’ Dean grabbed the lad’s arse with one hand, stroked it.
           ‘Yes sir,’ the boy gasped and tried to reach for his prick.
           ‘Leave that, you won’t need to touch it,’ Dean said and immediately the lad gripped the chair again.
           ‘Fuck him Stu,’ Dean was also panting. I could tell he was getting close. I decided it was time we all let go.
I took hold of Gould’s slim hips, gripped him tight and took over. Now I was lifting him and planting him, using his young fame to wank myself off into him. He reached out and grabbed Dean’s fat cock, started to pull on it, started to wank him while all the time his own little dick bounced around, slapping against me as I slammed him onto my shaft and then springing up in the air as I lifted him.
           ‘I’m going to fill you with spunk Alex,’ I said, my teeth gritted.
I slammed him down onto me, ground his little hips around, felt his smooth arse flatten against my hairy legs and shot my spunk up his arse.
           ‘Oh yeah!’ the lad called out. ‘Fuck me sir.’
I lifted him and slammed him again in time for another spurt, and then another.
           ‘You’re getting fucked for the first time,’ I heard myself say. ‘I’m filing you with my spunk and I’m fucking a virgin lad for the…’
           ‘I’m coming,’ the boy gasped. ‘Oh sir… oh yes… please…’
           ‘Look at me,’ Dean ordered. The boy had closed his eyes. He opened them now and they were clouded with confusion and wonder. ‘Look at me as I watch you come.’
Gould panted, gasped, let out a strangled moan and screwed up his face. I pushed him down onto my cock once and for all and twisted him. I kept pushing him down, kept him impaled on my painfully throbbing, spent cock as I watched his. It jerked. He yelled out. I slid him back and forth across my lap, forcing my cock as deep into him as it would go while it was still hard; giving his as much pleasure as I could. He let go of Dean’s cock and looked at me.
           ‘Oh Jesus sir,’ he said in disbelief and then looked down.
His young cock spewed out a stream of hot, white spunk that flew up and at me. I opened my mouth and caught the first of it right on my tongue.
           ‘Oh fuck, oh fuck,’ I heard Dean grunt. I reached out my hand and grabbed my mate’s balls. I pulled on them. ‘That’s it Stuart.’
           ‘Sir…’
The lad’s cock erupted again, another stream of spunk splattered onto my chest. His balls were practically indivisible now, up into him and working hard. His arse tightened around my cock. He fell forward as a third spurt of juice shot from his little cock and landed hot on my stomach. Dean grabbed his head, turned it to face him.
           ‘Open,’ he gasped and the boy obeyed.
Dean held his head with one hand and pulled on his cock with the other. He came hard and loads, dumping it all into the boy’s open mouth.
           ‘Taste it,’ I encouraged. ‘Taste what an older boy’s spunk is like.’
           ‘Fuck, fuck, yes,’ Dean wanked harder and came again; another wad of spunk hit the boy’s face. The boy moaned with pleasure and licked where he could reach.
Dean couldn’t stand it any more. He pushed the boys open, cum filed mouth over the end of his cock and spurted again, this time into his throat.
           ‘Swallow me,’ he grunted. ‘Swallow my come.’ He thrust his hips, held the lad’s face against his fury bush and made the boy gag as he unloaded everything from his manly ball sack into the virgin mouth.
           ‘Jesus he’s a good Fag,’ Dean whispered as the boy licked the last of the cum from Dean’s red cock head. ‘We must keep this one.’
           ‘Thank you sir,’ Gould said as he was finally allowed to leave Dean’s cock alone.
          ÂÂ
The boy lay down, stretched across me, with his head against my chest. My cock slipped from his wet arse and flopped exhausted against my leg. Between us I could feel his spunk cold and sticky now, like it was gluing us together. Dean had already started looking around for another drink. He poked the fire and went to crash in his armchair.
I felt Alex’s breathing calm down, his heart rate slowed. His fingers brushed against the side of my face and he looked up at me.
Without saying anything else he kissed me once, lay his head down again and promptly fell asleep.
Ó www.bookpuppy.co.uk">http://www.bookpuppy.co.uk/">www.bookpuppy.co.uk
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
ÂÂ
