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From: Simon Taylor <avidfan69@hotmail.com>
Subject: RP: Playing Hooky - 1963 (M+/t, Oral, Anal)
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===================


The following story contains explicit descriptions of
sexual activity between adult males and minors. READ NO
FURTHER if you are under the age of eighteen or offended
by such material.

Playing Hooky - 1963

By Alan Garland

'Fancy a turn on the boating lake, son?'

Startled, I looked up and saw a man dressed in army
fatigues standing beside me with a half-smoked cigarette
in his hand. I felt a strong urge to run away - after
all, I was playing hooky from school. But this wasn't a
policeman, just a soldier with a friendly, reassuring
look on his face.

The man grinned. 'It's okay, son', he said. 'I guess you
decided it was too nice a day to spend at school, eh? I
shan't tell anyone, if you don't.' His voice sounded
deep and very masculine. I relaxed and considered his
offer of a boat ride.

I grinned back at the man. 'I don't usually skip school
like this,' I said shyly. 'But I got on the wrong bus
this morning and ended up here, on the promenade.'

'Yeah, it happens to me all the time,' he said, winking.
'How about that boat ride, fancy it?'

'Yes,' I said shyly.

We made our way to Peter Pan's Playground, where a small
group of men were getting the rides ready for the day's
business.

'It's a bit early,' said the man. 'The boats won't be
out yet. Fancy a cup of tea and a bun?'

I thought quickly. I didn't have that much money on me,
so I decided to be honest with the man. 'I've got some
money...' I stopped, a little embarrassed. My voice had
not finished breaking and was swooping up and down
uncontrollably, like the cry of the seagulls flying
overhead. I swallowed and tried again.

'I need to keep some money back for lunchtime, and...'

The man laughed, generously. 'Don't worry about it, son.
The tea and bun, and the boat ride, are on me. By the
way, what's your name; I can't keep calling you "son",
now can I?'

'Alan,' I said.

'Now what are the odds on that? My name's Alan too.'

Over tea and buns, Alan and I exchanged a good deal of
information. By now, I felt completely at ease in the
soldier's company. I held nothing back: I told him about
my music studies and how I was preparing to take a very
important exam in the autumn. I made Alan laugh when I
told him about the fearsome Miss Wilkinson, my form
teacher, who had a habit of striding into the classroom
and exclaiming, in stentorian tones, 'Boys' hands on
desks where I can see them!' I told him how the girls
would titter and giggle, until Miss Wilkinson silenced
them with a ferocious look.

Alan told me that he was serving the last two months of
his army service at the Royal Artillery camp further
along the coast, and that he was on a 48-hour pass. He
said he couldn't wait to be demobbed and back in
civvies.

Strolling back along the promenade, Alan began to gently
probe for more intimate details of my life. I, in turn,
was aware of the soldier's hand occasionally touching my
arm and shoulder. Being a shy lad, I would not normally
have tolerated this from a stranger but, to my
amazement, I found himself liking, even welcoming, the
man's familiarity.

'How old are you?' asked Alan.

'Fourteen, nearly fifteen,' I replied.

'Hmmm, that might be a bit of a problem at the boating
lake. Tell you what, if the boatman asks how old you
are, you keep quiet and I'll say you're my nephew and
today's your thirteenth birthday. You don't mind being
thirteen years old for the day, do you?'

'N-no,' I said.

'Those girls in your class; how many of them have you
fooled around with?'

I blushed scarlet at the sudden, unexpected intimacy of
the question. I looked up at Alan, who was grinning
broadly. His eyes, however, had lost their warmth and
seemed to glitter like two brilliant, piercing points of
light.

I stopped in mid-stride, totally stunned by the question
- where was this leading I thought. I couldn't seem to
turn away from those probing eyes. What could I say?
Alan was obviously expecting some kind of reply. I
couldn't just tell him that I didn't much care for
girls, and that I only felt comfortable around other
boys.

'I... I don't have a girlfriend,' I stuttered, feeling
like a first-class idiot.

'Oh, come on, a good-looking lad like you! Surely you've
had a few girls play with your cock behind the bike
sheds after school.'

'No!' My voice cracked, suddenly taking on an
unaccustomed strength.

'I haven't - I'm not interested in that sort of thing!'

There was a tension growing between us, which the
soldier sensed and made an effort to dispel. He shrugged
his shoulders and walked on.

'Sorry if I stepped on a corn,' he said.

By now, the morning had warmed up a great deal. It was
definitely going to be a hot day, just as the weather
forecaster on the radio had promised. Peter Pan's
Playground was filling up fast, and becoming noisy with
the sound of small, pre-school kids having fun.

I caught up to the soldier as he reached the steps that
led down to the boating lake. Why had he spoilt
everything by raising the boring subject of girls, and
why was he so interested in what I did with my cock?

There were quite a few paddleboats out on the lake that
morning, many of which were filled with small kids and
their adult minders. Deep down, I knew that I was
getting a little too old for such things, but I really
did like the boats.

Alan must have guessed what I was thinking. 'We don't
have to go down there if you don't want to,' he said,
placing a hand gently on my shoulder. 'I just like the
boats, don't you?'

'Yes.'

'Come on then. We needn't stay long, and I'm really
sorry about...'

'No, that's alright,' I interrupted. 'I just wasn't
expecting a question about... about s-e-x.'

'So you know what it's called.'

'Yes, I've messed about a few times with some of the
boys at school, nothing more.' I paused, blushing
furiously.

'Right,' said Alan, grinning. 'So you and your friends
have had a couple of wanks in the bog.'

I nodded.

'That's nothing to be ashamed of, son. We all do it when
the pressure's on. It's all part of growing up. You'll
soon be a man and things will work out just fine. They
always do.'

The boatman eyed me up and down suspiciously. Over the
years he had become quite an expert at picking out kids
that were playing hooky.

As Alan paid the man for the boat, he spun the yarn
about the birthday treat. The boatman remained
unconvinced. 'Happy birthday, son,' he begrudgingly
muttered as he watched us cram ourselves into the small
boat and paddle away.

'Look, let's try this. You put your right leg under my
left one and your right arm along the back of the boat.'

I was almost helpless with laughter. 'What do you mean?'
I spluttered. Alan repeated his instructions, carefully
bending his left knee to allow me to slide my right leg
underneath.

'If anyone sees us,' he said with a twinkle in his eye,
'I hope they don't get the wrong idea!'

'Why, what do you mean?' I asked.

'Well, some nosey parker might think I was trying to get
my hand inside your [short] trousers.'

I sat still as Alan leaned forward and demonstrated what
he meant. He placed his hand on the inside of my left
thigh, just past the trouser hem. A tingle suddenly shot
up my leg and settled in the area where my cock hung
down. Except my cock wasn't hanging down any more; it
was swelling up, growing both in length and girth. I
could feel my ball-sac tightening.

Alan's fingers were gently caressing the inside of my
thigh. The tiny boat lurched back and forth as I moved
across the wooden seat, closer to the soldier. Alan's
fingers were now just an inch or so from my throbbing
hard-on. My breath became shallow and gasping as I gave
myself up to the burning sensation in my groin.

'Come in, thirty-six. Your time's up!' shouted the
boatman.'

Alan smiled as his fingers gently caressed the end of my
hard-standing cock.

The boatman's voice boomed across the lake again. 'Come
in, number thirty-six!'

Alan removed his hand and said in a low voice, 'Don't
worry, the old git can't see what I'm doing. Let's go
eat.'

We sat side by side in the small seafront café, eating
fish and chips and talking about nothing in particular.
My cock twitched every time Alan pressed his thigh
against mine. I could feel the warmth of his leg through
the thin material of my trousers. Tentatively, I
responded by spreading my legs and pressing my knee
against his.

A combination of fear, excitement and anticipation swept
over me as Alan's hand dropped beneath the tabletop and
gave my swelling crotch a gentle squeeze.

'What do you want to do now, Alan?' the soldier asked,
slowly retracting his hand.

'I-I-I don't know.'

'There's a good film on at the Rivoli,' he said. 'It's
called "Tarzan's Three Challenges". Jock Mahoney and
Woody Strode are in it.'

'Tarzan! Yes, let's go see it!'

'If we're quick, we'll just make the early show.'

We stood up and moved into the aisle between the tables.
My incipient erection had now receded, leaving me with a
real feeling of disappointment. Alan half turned to face
the blowsy, middle-aged woman behind the counter.

'Thanks.... Bye,' he said.

The hot, weary woman responded with a distorted half-
smile that clearly said, 'I know what you're up to,
mate. Just don't get caught under the pier with the
lad's pants down!'

We left the café quickly, hurrying round the corner to
the cinema a few yards up the street. Alan paid for both
our seats and as we climbed the thickly carpeted stairs,
he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, 'When we get
in, sit in the second row from the back, well in from
the gangway, it's darker there. And take your jacket off
and put it over your lap.'

As we entered the semi-darkened auditorium, the
usherette tried to conduct us to a row of seats near the
front, but Alan firmly guided me toward the second row
of seats from the back. As we sat down, the house lights
dimmed, the curtains parted and the film began.

Being so early in the afternoon - it wasn't one o'clock
yet - there wasn't many people in the cinema. Most of
them were pensioners scattered around in ones and twos.
Within minutes, I was totally absorbed in the film - I'd
always had a vivid imagination and Tarzan was one of my
favourite heroes. However, when Alan's hand slipped
beneath the folds of my jacket, I decided to leave the
jungle behind and concentrate on an adventure closer to
home.

Alan's fingers began to stroke my cock through the thin
material of my trousers, bringing it to a full erection
within seconds. His fingers probed more urgently as,
with eyes fixed on the screen, he undone the first of my
fly buttons.

With all the buttons undone, Alan released my hard,
throbbing cock from the confines of my underpants. I
gasped as the man's thumb touched the very tip of my
adolescent member, causing it to leak a drop of clear
liquid that was spread over the bulbous surface of my
knob by the ever moving thumb.

My whole body stiffened as I closed my eyes and felt
Alan's hand encircle my aching, hard-standing member. I
moved lower in my seat to allow him to explore further.
He cupped my ball-sac in his hand and gave it a gentle
squeeze. I pushed back hard into my seat as he extended
his forefinger and began probing for the most secret,
hidden part of my body.

Suddenly, he moved in his seat: bringing himself closer
to me.

'Do the same to me,' he said in a low, hoarse whisper.

I opened my eyes. The film was moving towards a noisy
and colourful climax. My hand slid under the army jacket
that lay across my friend's lap. My eager young fingers
felt the warmth of the man's crotch.

'That's it, son. Give Old Gerald a squeeze.'

I took a sharp intake of breath as my fingers felt the
hardness of the erection beneath the clothing. Somehow,
I had not expected it to be so large. I had never before
seen or felt a man's fully erect penis.

My fingers tried to undo the fly buttons, but the
heaviness of the material and rigidity of the buttons
defeated me. Alan stopped what he was doing, unbuttoned
his trousers and went back to work in a flash.

'Try again,' he whispered.

Hesitantly, I took hold of my friend's erection and gave
it a gentle squeeze. My fingers tightened around the
organ and pulled it free from the confines of the
trousers. The atmosphere was electric. I just couldn't
believe I was sitting in a cinema, a public place,
holding a man's fully erect cock in my hand.

Suddenly, I was gripped by fear. What if the usherette
spotted something and decided to swing down the aisle
and investigate? I raised myself up and quickly glanced
over my shoulder. I needn't have worried; there was no
sign of the usherette or anyone else. I slid down in my
seat and with renewed courage, resumed my detailed study
of the soldier's fully aroused manhood.

It was then that I suddenly remembered a conversation I
had overheard in the school bog a few days earlier. It
was just after lessons and I was in one of the cubicles,
having a wank, when I heard voices.

'Ever had your cock sucked?' queried one boy.

'No, what's it like?' asked his friend.

'Well, it's not as good as a proper fuck, but better
than a straightforward hand job.'

The devil in me wasn't going to let a memory like that
go to waste: suppose I pretended to drop something on
the floor...

I reluctantly let Alan's cock go and sat bolt upright in
my seat, cursing under my breath as I did so.

'What's up?' whispered Alan, urgently releasing my cock.

'I've dropped my....'

I slid off the flip-up seat and crouched down beside the
man's right leg. 'It's down here somewhere,' I said,
slipping my head under the army jacket. The musky odour
of Alan's crotch spurred me on as I took hold of his
man-size cock again. I had no idea what the cock would
taste like, but I was determined to find out. I
tightened my grip around the shaft and opened my mouth.

Alan's body shuddered as the tip of my tongue touched
his hard, bulbous knob. I had no idea what I was doing,
so I decided to press on and see what would happen. I
ran my tongue around the knob and tentatively probed the
cock-slit, tasting the sweet saltiness of a man's pre-
cum for the first time. Alan gave out a loud groan and,
grabbing the back of my collar, pulled me away from his
pulsating member.

'That's enough!' he whispered gruffly. 'I don't want Old
Gerald to get over excited and miss out on all the fun
later. Now put your cock away and behave.'

I sat back in my seat as the film credits began to roll.
Somehow, before the lights came on, we both managed to
stuff our rigid cocks back into our underpants and
button up our flies.

'You okay, son?' said Alan, looking at me intently.

'Yes, thanks. Did you like what I did?'

'Oh, yes! It felt really good. How many cocks have you
sucked so far?'

'Yours was the first. I heard two prefects talking about
cock-sucking in the bog at school, so I thought I'll
give it a try.'

'I'm really glad you did. Let's go to the pier. I know a
nice quiet spot where you can lick Old Gerald into shape
and show him a really good time.'

'The prefects were talking about fucking as well,' I
said eagerly. 'Ronnie Fowler from 4B said he's seen
photographs of men fucking men. They do it...'

'I know how they do it,' interrupted Alan. 'Now keep
your voice down and we'll talk about it later, alright?'

'Yes,' I said, walking slowly up the aisle towards the
exit behind Alan.

Southend-on-Sea was renowned for having the longest pier
in the country; almost a third of a mile long. You could
walk its entire length, if you had the time and energy,
but most people preferred to use the small electric
train that trundled back and forth along the pier all
day.

We were lucky to find an empty car.

'I really liked the look of that Khan [Woody Strode],'
said Alan. 'He reminded me of a black feller that fucked
me once. He and his mate humped me in the back of an
army lorry; then stole the lorry and all my money and
clothes.

I looked at the soldier in utter amazement.

'Sergeant Gardner wasn't very sympathetic when I walked,
stark naked, through the camp gates. He said it was my
fault and put me on a charge. You see; the loss of Army
property is far more important to the War Office than
the rape of a young soldier.'

'Did it hurt? You know... when they raped you,' I asked
in a low voice.

'They pushed me around a bit at first, but eased up once
they had me naked and down, spread out like. I think
they realised I was more of a man's man than a man's
man; if you get my drift!'

'So it didn't hurt when their cocks were inside you.'

'It hurt a bit, but I was in no position to complain. I
just grit my teeth and let them get on with it.'

'Ronnie Fowler says black men have really big cocks.'

'He ain't wrong there, son. Those fellers had massive
cocks - I couldn't walk properly for a week after they
broadened my horizons.'

'Sorry?'

'Never mind,' grinned Alan. 'Would you like to see a few
photographs of black men fucking white men? A friend of
mine has hundreds of photographs of men sucking cock and
fucking other men.'

'Yes,' I said eagerly.

'Good! We can meet up Saturday, in front of the cinema
at one o'clock. What you say?'

'Yes. That'll be great.'

'Now look. When we get to the other end, just follow
me.' Alan gazed at me intently before continuing. 'You
sure you want to go on with this? We could end up
fucking, and it usually hurts the first time.'

'Yes, I'm sure,' I said in a rather unsure way.

'Okay. But you must let me know if it starts to hurt too
much.'

I began to have second thoughts about letting the
soldier fuck me. I recalled a playground discussion with
Ralph Moore on the subject of girls having sex for the
first time. He said that his sister had told him it was
'bloody painful'. Unfortunately, I couldn't back out
now. I had promised the soldier, and a promise was a
promise.

When the train arrived at the end of the line, Alan got
up and said in a reassuring voice, 'Come on, follow me.'

We walked towards the very end of the pier, where, in
the days before the War, paddle steamers from London had
arrived with their hordes of day-trippers. Now only a
few half-rotten bollards remained to show where the
steamers had once tied up.

'Come on, down here!'

Alan led me down a steep wooden staircase, which seemed
to go down forever. The dilapidated staircase looked
unsafe, and I could see fronds of livid green seaweed
clinging to the support timbers below.

'No one comes down here any more. There's a loading quay
about half way down.'

My heart was pounding in my chest as I descended the
steps. Excitement and fear were fuelling my imagination
in equal measure. I really wanted to have sex with Alan,
but I was all too aware of the pain it might cause. 'If
I tried to back out now,' I thought, 'would he rape me?'
My cock began to twitch as my imagination conjured up a
vivid image of Alan and two naked black men raping me.

Alan clambered over the half-rotten safety rail that
separated the staircase from the quay. 'Sound carries a
long way down here, so don't make too much noise.'

I followed Alan onto the loading platform, which smelt
of decaying seaweed and old creosote. The quay ran under
the upper part of the pier and was lit only by the
daylight that filtered in through the support piles.
Apart from the sound of lapping water, all else was
silence in this twilight world beneath the pier.

My fear suddenly subsided as the excitement of the
moment won me over completely. I knew this form of sex
was regarded by many as perverted and wrong; but I
didn't care. It would be my secret, and apart from Alan,
no one else would ever know.

Feverishly, I pulled off my jacket and threw it down on
the wooden decking. I tore at my tie, tossing it after
my jacket, and fumbled at my shirt buttons.

'Hey, steady on,' said Alan in a hoarse whisper.
'There's plenty of time - just slow down and you'll
enjoy it more.'

Alan helped me remove my shirt, then stepped back to
take in my naked upper body.

'Nice and skinny,' he said, idly caressing the back of
his neck with one hand. 'I like skinny, young blonds.
Now let's see a little more; take off your shoes and
socks.'

I sat down and, without stopping to untie the laces,
removed my shoes and pulled off my socks.

'That's fine, Alan. Now stand up and drop your trousers
and pants - the two together; all in one go.'

I shuddered with excitement as I stood up, unbuckled my
belt and opened the fly of my trousers.

'All in one go. Got that, son?'

I nodded my head and slipped my fingers eagerly into the
waistband of my Y-fronts. In an instant, my trousers and
pants were down around my ankles; and as they fell, my
cock sprang up and out, twitching uncontrollably as it
stood to attention horizontally.

'Nice one, Alan. That cock of yours looks like a stick
of hard seaside rock. I haven't sucked on a piece of
seaside rock for ages. Can I have a little taste of
yours?'

'Yes, of course,' I said coyly.

The soldier stepped forward, put a hand on my shoulder
and squeezed it affectionately.

'Step out of those togs and follow me.'

Leaving my clothes behind in the centre of the quay, I
followed Alan back to the staircase. My cock began to
bob up and down as he positioned me against the safety
rail, with my back to the staircase.

'What a beauty,' he said, kneeling down in front of me
and putting his hands on my hips. 'I'm gonna enjoy
licking this little feller into shape.'

I looked down and saw the tip of my uncut cock disappear
into the man's open mouth. My whole body shook as his
lips closed tightly round the narrow shaft of my four-
inch member. Raising my arms a little, I grabbed hold of
the safety rail with both hands and gave out a long, low
moan.

Alan's tongue rolled slowly over my knob as he sucked in
the remainder of my hard-standing cock. The whole length
of my member ached for attention as the tip of his
tongue transported me to seventh heaven.

'Hmmm, yes, yes,' I moaned, thrusting my hips forward
and trying to push my cock further into his mouth.

Alan released his hold on my hips and slapped me sharply
on both thighs. Suitably chastised, I pulled back and
let him take the lead again. The second slap on the
thighs and the squeezing of my arse-cheeks were Alan's
way of telling me that he was the dominant male in our
little pride.

I was too excited to care who dominated the
relationship. The only thing that mattered to me was the
sex. If Alan wanted to be the head honcho, then that was
fine with me.

Alan's hands continued to squeeze my arse-cheeks as his
tongue took good care of my cock. My knees began to
shake as I found myself teetering on the brink of a
climax. Then, without warning, the soldier released my
cock, stood up and spun me round. I was in a state of
total confusion as I was pulled back a little, bent
forward and told to spread my legs.

With arms outstretched, I grabbed hold of the safety
rail with both hands to stop myself from lurching
forward. My cock bobbed up and down erratically as Alan
knelt down, eased my buttocks apart and, using the tip
of his tongue, probed for a reaction.

The sensation was truly awesome. My mouth fell open and
I gasped for air as Alan's tongue made my whole body
quake with excitement.

'Hold on tight, son,' he said, slapping me hard on both
arse-cheeks and standing up.

Feeling very nervous, yet excited at the same time, I
did as I was told. I felt Alan's knob slip between my
cheeks and push against my anus. I gave out a whole
series of muffled squeaks and moans as the soldier
gently eased my buttocks apart again.

Instinctively, and against all my best efforts to
prevent it, my anus tightened up to reject Alan's
advances. The harder I tried to relax, the tighter my
anus became.

'Try to relax, son,' said Alan. 'Pretend you're taking a
dump - it'll be a lot easier.'

After a few seconds of trying, I felt my anus relax just
a little. Alan sensed this immediately and, taking full
advantage of the moment, pushed his hard-standing cock
into my virgin hole.

'No! No!' I shouted. 'Take it out. Take it out, please!'

Ignoring my pleas, Alan did nothing but stop his
advance.

'Shut up!' he hissed. 'Just wait a few seconds. The pain
will soon go.'

Much to my astonishment and relief, the intense pain did
slowly disappear. I could feel the soldier's cock inside
me as he began to push forward again.

'Now let's go for a ride,' he whispered.

The sensation was totally amazing. If anyone had tried
to describe what it felt like, I would never have
believed them. The pain had been replaced by a pleasure
that was truly wonderful, and one that soon doubled in
intensity when Alan began to fuck me. His cock pushed
deeper and deeper into my inner sanctum as I began to
squeak and moan again.

'Fucking brilliant!' I heard him say through gritted
teeth. 'What an arse!'

By now I was relaxed enough to try and match his stroke
rate with a little rhythmic movement of my own. I thrust
out my bottom when he pushed forward and pulled back
when he did.

'Nice one, son,' he said. 'You're a fucking natural!'

It was then that I became acutely aware of my own hard-
standing cock. It had been neglected for far too long
and was in urgent need of some attention. Fortunately,
the soldier had sensed this tension and, reaching down
and round with his right hand, eased back to put some
effort into looking after my needs.

My whole body shook in anticipation as Alan's finger and
thumb took charge of my aching member. I almost lost my
footing as my knees began to tremble uncontrollably.

'Careful, son,' whispered Alan. 'I'm going to toss you
off, so try not to fall over.'

Within three to four strokes my cock was ready to give
up its seed. Several powerful spurts of spunk hit the
wooden decking as Alan's finger and thumb triggered the
best climax I had ever had. At the same time, I felt the
cock inside me move forward, then back.

Alan took hold of my hips and began to fuck me like a
man possessed. My cock continued to litter the decking
with drops of spunk as my inner sanctum was flooded with
seed. I clenched my arse-cheeks together to stop my
friend from withdrawing too soon, which seemed to please
him very much.

My legs were shaking uncontrollably when Alan finally
withdrew his semi-erect cock from my arsehole. I fell to
my knees and grunted out a few words of sincere thanks.

'That's alright, son. Now get up and get dressed. I'll
meet you upstairs by the train.'

The train ride back was uneventful, as was the walk back
to the boating lake. I was feeling very guilty about
what we had done under the pier, so I didn't talk about
it. Alan didn't mention it either; he simply pressed two
half-crowns into my hand and, before parting company,
reminded me of our Saturday get together.

--------------------------------------------------------
Part 2
--------------------------------------------------------

The cinema manager was giving me the evil eye when Alan
and another man came up to me on that memorable
Saturday. I had been standing outside the Rivoli for
some twenty-five minutes, wondering whether to stay or
go - I still felt a little guilty about having sex with
a man, but the promise of seeing all those photographs
of naked men kept me from walking away.

Alan introduced me to Howard, a man in his early fifties
who spoke and dressed like a toff. He owned a 1959
Singer Gazelle, which, when I first saw it, was in
serious need of a good wash. The plan was for us to
travel by car to Howard's cottage to check out his
extensive collection of erotic photographs;
unfortunately, we never made it. The car ended up being
parked in the middle of a remote wood for several hours.

Howard was a born salesman: the kind of man who could
sell snow to the Eskimo. His charismatic charm won me
over in an instant, and it wasn't long before he had me
wrapped around his little finger.

Howard was delighted when Alan and I agreed to play his
Q&A game. He said it would help pass the time during the
long journey. The rules of the game were very simple: if
you answered a question correctly, you would win a
shilling; if you answered a question incorrectly, you
would have to pay a forfeit.

I remember we had just turned off the road to Ashingdon
when Alan claimed my trousers as a forfeit. Howard had
already won my left shoe and right sock, which had been
placed on the front passenger seat alongside Alan's
previous two gains: my right shoe and left sock.

'What is the capital city of Australia?' asked Howard.

'Sydney,' I replied confidently.

'Wrong again, tiger. It's Canberra.'

'I would have said Sydney,' added Alan.

'Then you would have lost your jacket, old boy,' said
Howard cheerfully.

'I don't think the lad should take off anything above
the waist just yet, Howard. Why not go for his
underpants.'

'Well, if you insist.'

'Okay, son,' said Alan in a reassuring voice. 'Raise up
and slip off your trousers and pants.'

I was so embarrassed; yet just as keen to lose at the
game as Howard and Alan were to win. The two men had
fixed the game so I had no chance of winning. If I did
get a question right, I was given money, not clothes. So
there was no way I could win back the clothes I had
already lost, or swap them for someone else's clothes.

Alan disentangled my trousers from my underpants the
instant they were off: throwing the Y-fronts onto the
front passenger seat and draping the trousers over my
lap.

'He's got a hard-on already,' said Alan, slipping his
hand beneath the trousers to take hold of my cock. 'I
told you he was a hot one.'

'Don't do anything rash, Alan. We don't want to spoil
things,' said Howard anxiously. 'Besides, we're not that
far from the wood.'

'Wood, what wood?' I asked nervously.

'Howard wants to take a few photographs of you in the
nude,' said Alan. 'It'll only take an hour or...'

'The trees and undergrowth will make a great backdrop,
tiger,' interrupted Howard, glancing quickly over his
shoulder.

>From the look on my face, the two men knew it wasn't
going to be easy to persuade me to go along with their
outrageous plan. However, by the time the car had turned
onto the track that cut through the wood, I was stark-
bollock-naked and willing to do the photo-shoot.

Howard had convinced me to become one of his nature
boys. He assured me that it was no big deal - lots of
boys and men had posed for him in the secluded wood,
including Alan.

'It's on private land,' said Alan, 'so only a few people
know of its existence.'

When the moment came, I was a tad reluctant to leave the
safety of the car behind. Howard assured me that the
spot he wanted to use for the photo-shoot was less than
three minutes away, and that it was ringed by dense
undergrowth and trees. The path leading to the clearing
was littered with nettles and sharp stones, so Alan was
given the task of carrying me there on his back.

The clearing was indeed only a few minutes away from the
track. A variety of flowers and tall grasses covered the
entire area, with the exception of a patch of bare earth
that surrounded a large fallen tree. The tree had
clearly been lying on the ground for some years, making
it the perfect backdrop for a photo-shoot.

Howard's camera could only take twelve photographs at a
time, so he had to use a lightproof changing bag three
times that day to keep up with the turnover of film. The
first two rolls of film were used to capture images of
me posing on and around the fallen tree trunk. I was
then photographed alongside Alan, who had stripped off
to allow Howard to get some close-ups of me sucking on a
hairless ball-sac and hard-standing cock. The fourth and
final roll of film was used to record my first cloud-
nine climax in front of a camera.

Howard never stopped showering me with praise throughout
the photo-shoot. Apparently, I was one of the best
models he had ever photographed. I was a natural: a
young blond with a photogenic face and an adorable body.
Alan put it a little different. He said I was a good-
looking cock-sucker with a sweet, little arse.

The praise may have been pure flannel, but I fell for it
just the same. Howard and Alan made me feel special, so
I didn't mind becoming their sex pet.

'It's too late to visit the cottage now,' said Howard.
'Let's get back to the car. I'll run you both back to
town.... We can check out the collection another day.'

'Saturday, next Saturday,' I suggested eagerly. 'We can
meet up outside the cinema, like we did today.'

'No can do,' grumbled Alan. 'I'm on duty next Saturday
and Sunday.'

'So it'll be just us two, tiger,' said Howard, as he
slapped me gently on both arse-cheeks.

* * *

It was only when we arrived at the cottage on the
following Saturday that Howard informed me that he had
mixed up the dates and forgotten to tell me about a
prior engagement. Apparently, my visit was going to
clash with a Triple X meeting.

'Triple X is a film club that caters for the true
enthusiast,' he said, turning off the car engine. 'We
meet at the cottage once a month to watch blue films.'

I was confused, and it clearly showed on my face.

'I didn't want to let you down,' he continued, 'so I
arranged for you to sit in on this month's viewing, as a
guest. It wasn't easy, but my friends eventually
agreed.'

'How many?' I asked.

'Well, we normally watch three or four films every
month.'

'No, I mean how many friends?'

'No more than four or five - it's a very select club.'

'Maybe I should wait in the car until the meeting is
over,' I suggested anxiously. 'I don't want to spoil
things.'

'Nonsense; you're the guest of honour,' he said, opening
the car door. 'Besides, they've all seen the photographs
of you sucking Alan's cock, so there's no need to be
shy.'

'Oh, so that means...'

'You're going to enjoy yourself, tiger. Now come on, we
can't keep your fans waiting forever.'

* * *

The living room was in near darkness when Howard opened
the door and ushered me inside. I peered into the gloom
and saw a naked, middle-aged man standing beside a film
projector, which stood on a metal stand at one end of
the room. Another member of the club was sitting on the
floor in front of a portable screen, and three more men
were sitting on the settee and chairs between the
projector and screen. Everyone in the room was naked,
including Howard and myself - we had undressed in the
bathroom some ten minutes earlier.

We took our seats on the settee, with Howard making sure
I sat between him and a man named Brian. Apparently, the
film we were about to watch was a Triple X classic; and
as it began to roll, Brian placed his hand on my left
thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

On the screen, two naked boys could be seen undressing a
younger boy. All three boys were happily fooling around
on a large, stripped-down bed as the camera zoomed in on
the youngster being undressed. Clearly taking
instructions from someone off camera, the two older boys
began to work on their friend's hairless cock and tiny
ball sac. They spread his legs apart and began to play
with his four inch boner.

As they did so, Brian and Howard decided to do the same
to me. I just couldn't take my eyes off the screen as
the two men fondled my ball sac and squeezed my hard-
standing stem.

'David was on top form that day,' said Paul, the man
sitting on the floor in front of me. 'That cock of his
stayed up like that during the entire shoot. He's a
horny little fucker, and a real cute kid.'

'He's the best lad we've had at the home for years,'
said Ian, the man operating the projector.

'Maybe we should team him up with young Alan here,'
suggested Brian. 'The two of 'em would make a great win-
double.'

I was too engrossed in the film to support the idea
verbally; however, I did nod my head in agreement when
Brian asked me directly. It was then that I smelt the
sweet aroma of poppers for the first time.

'Take a whiff of this, son,' said Ian. 'It's good
stuff.'

My head began to swim the instant the small bottle of
amyl nitrite was opened and placed under my nose. Ian,
who was now standing behind the settee, moved the bottle
from one nostril to the other as Brian, Howard and Paul
took hold of my arms and legs and repositioned me on the
settee. With my arse on the very edge of the settee, my
legs were raised into the air, bent at the knees and
held securely in place by Brian and Howard.

'That's it. Keep him doubled up like that,' said Paul,
smearing some Vaseline on his cock-head.

I was on a real high by the time the first hard-standing
cock entered my rectum. Ian tweaked my nipples real hard
as the swollen head of Paul's manhood entered my inner
sanctum. My whole body juddered as more and more of his
eight-inch cock disappeared into what Brian cheerfully
called my 'love hole'.

'Listen to all that noise he's making,' said Victor. 'I
love it when they moan like that; it makes you wanna
fuck 'em all the more.'

'You would fuck him if he was out cold,' taunted Ian.
'So don't give us all that guff about the noise he's
making.'

'True, true,' admitted Victor.

'Come on, Paul,' said Brian. 'Fuck his brains out.'

Some of the men laughed when Brian encouraged his friend
to broaden my horizons and make my eyes water, which
Paul was only too willing to do.

'Give him another pop,' said Scoot, the man waiting in
line to take over from Paul.

'Right-tee-ho,' replied Ian.

The small bottle of poppers was placed under my nose
again as Paul pushed forward one last time and released
his load. We both began to moan in unison as he came
down from his climax and I went up on my next high. This
happened three more times, and when it was all over my
rectum was awash with four different kinds of seed.

A few minutes later I was dragged off the settee and
pushed to the floor in a very rough way.

'Turn him on his back and stretch him out,' barked
Brian.

My arms and legs were held fast by the men who had
fucked me on the settee. Brian knelt down on the floor
between the men holding down my outstretched arms and
told me to 'open wide'.

'Come on, tiger,' urged Howard. 'Show the man how good
you are at sucking cock.'

Brian rammed his cock into my mouth the instant it was
open. I gagged on his swollen knob as it hit the back of
my throat and cut off my air supply. He then raised
himself up and quickly established a fucking-rhythm that
went on for ages. Brian was not as chubby as the rest of
the group: he was just as old and wrinkly, but carried
far less weight than his friends. He must have done
several dozen press-ups before releasing his seed into
my mouth.

'Aaaaahhhhh!' he exclaimed triumphantly. 'That was
fucking awesome.'

Howard squeezed my ball sac real hard and told me to
swallow every last drop of semen, which I did in double
quick time. He then took hold of my semi-erect cock and
began to lick it back into shape.

Brian withdrew his cock from my mouth and patted me on
both cheeks.

I was becoming a little concerned about the way the men
were holding me down. I couldn't move my arms or legs,
and the grip they had on my wrists and ankles was
starting to hurt. There was no need for them to be so
heavy-handed, so why were they.

'I must go soon,' I said nervously. 'It's getting late.'

'Hush now, little man,' said Brian.

--------------------------------------------------------
Part 3
--------------------------------------------------------

I quickly put two and two together and came up with
five. The men were going to hold me captive until Alan,
the soldier, was able to talk another young lad into
becoming a member of the Triple X Club. In the meantime,
Howard and his friends were going to fuck me senseless
for days, possibly weeks, on end.

My cock twitched as Howard eased back the foreskin as
far as it would go and ran the tip of his tongue over
the most sensitive part of my knob. I liked the idea of
becoming a sex slave, but the thought of being held
prisoner for weeks on end did scare me; and what of the
boys Alan and Howard had invited to the cottage before
me - were they now being fucked by groups of horny
sailors in Shanghai.

I had told my parents that I was going to the cinema
with Paul Bridges, a friend from school. So no one,
apart from those in the room, knew where I was. My chest
began to tighten as Brian left the room for a few
minutes to retrieve a small, leather bag from the
hallway. On his return, and before rejoining the fold,
he pulled back the curtains covering the window and
switched off the projector.

'It's time for Alan's initiation into the club,' he
announced, opening the bag and pulling out a cut-throat
razor.

'Initiation,' I said in a high-pitched voice.

Howard released my cock and stood up to make way for
Brian and his leather bag.

'Yes, initiation,' said Paul cheerfully. 'That tuft of
pubic hair has simply got to go.'

'All new members of the club have to be shaved during
their initiation,' added Howard.

I swallowed hard as Brian knelt on the floor between my
legs and started applying shaving soap to the base of my
rapidly shrinking erection.

'Don't cut it off,' said Paul laughing. 'He'll be no
good to us without it.'

'Less of the stupid jokes,' rebuked Ian.

'Oh, I do beg your pardon,' said Paul sarcastically. 'I
didn't mean to...'

'Button it, Paul,' snapped Brian. 'No more jokes, okay?'

Paul nodded his head as the razor went to work on the
hair around my genitals. I shut my eyes and tried not to
think about the sharpness of the blade, or the damage it
could do to my cock if it slipped inadvertently.

I could feel my foreskin being stretched, and I could
feel the blade against the skin of my ball-sac from time
to time, but nothing prompted me to open my eyes and
take a peek at what Brian was doing. Instead, I
revisited the idea of being held captive by the men and
fucked senseless for weeks on end. The possibility of
being kidnapped and sold to white slavers was still on
the cards, but somehow I had managed to turn this
negative into a positive - I was warming to the idea of
being used and abused by lots and lots of naked men.

Within minutes the razor was safely back in the leather
bag and the first part of my initiation was over. I
opened my eyes and, with a sigh of relief, thanked the
heavens for Brian's steady hand. The second part of my
initiation came in the shape of a small bottle of TCP,
or something that smelt very much like TCP. The men
holding me down suddenly released my arms and legs as
Brian poured the contents of the bottle over my newly
exposed skin.

'Outrageous!' roared Ian in mock protest. 'Who would
have thought a lad of his age would know so many swear
words.'

'Come on. Let's fuck him again,' suggested Victor,
stroking his semi-erect cock.

'No. That's it for the day,' said Howard sternly. 'Alan
and I need to get back to town by four o'clock.'

'He can't go yet,' said Paul. 'He hasn't shed his load.'

'Alright, alright,' agreed Howard. 'Who wants to toss
him off?'

Everyone in the room, apart from Howard, offered to do
the job. In fact, Brian went one stage further and took
hold of my cock before anyone else could be nominated,
which caused quite a rumpus. Therefore, it was agreed
that I should 'cut out the middleman', as Scoot so aptly
put it, and take on the job myself.

Howard glanced at the clock sitting on the mantelpiece,
then mumbled something under his breath and knelt down
between Ian and Scoot: in the position Brian had
occupied when he had face-fucked me earlier. I was now
surrounded on all sides by an audience of six naked men.
It felt really good being the centre of so much
attention.

I took hold of my cock and began to stroke it, slowly.
My audience gathered in around me as I pulled my
foreskin back and lodged it behind the flared rim of my
swollen knob. Brian watched a tear-drop of pre-cum
emerge from my cock-head and run down to meet the
forefinger of my right hand, which was wrapped firmly
round the upper part of my erection. He licked his lips
and took hold of his own hard-standing cock, which in
turn prompted me to squeeze my cock really hard and give
out a long, low moan.

'Nice one, son,' said Ian. 'Let's see you work on that
hot rod some more.'

With just a finger and thumb, I eased my foreskin back
and forth a few times; then, after releasing my erection
and letting it stand for a while, I grabbed hold of my
cock and began pumping away like mad. A heady mixture of
praise and encouragement filled the air as my fist
blurred, my legs stiffened and my ball-sac gave up its
seed. The men continued to praise my efforts, and stroke
their cocks, as they watched my sperm sail through the
air and land, in splatters, on my chest.

'What say we broaden his horizons again, Howie,'
suggested Scoot. 'There's no way you're going to get him
back to town by four o'clock now.'

'Yes. Yes,' added Victor. 'I'm sure the lad would
welcome another good rogering from those of us who want
a second bite of the cherry.'

'No! You'll have to wait until next Saturday,' snapped
Howard aggressively. 'If Alan's late, and his parents
start asking awkward questions, we could all miss out on
a lot of fun. So no more talk about having a second bite
of the cherry. Got that?'

Scoot and Victor reluctantly nodded their heads in
agreement.

'Besides,' continued Howard, 'the lad's arsehole is in
no shape to take on another man-size cock, let alone
three or four.'

For my part, I was quite happy with the decision to call
it a day. I was very sore down below and knew that it
was going to take a while for my arsehole to recover.

'He won't forget this day in a hurry,' said Paul. 'I bet
his arse feels like it's been fucked by a red hot
poker.'

'Four red hot pokers,' I responded, with a cheeky smile.

All the men laughed as Howard helped me to my feet and
ushered me out of the room, telling me to go into the
bathroom and get cleaned up as quickly as I could.

I arrived home that day some forty minutes late; and
even though I looked like a bedraggled waif, my parents
didn't say a word about my appearance.

* * *

As planned, Howard and I met outside the cinema the
following Saturday morning. We walked to the car and
talked in some detail about the condition of my 'love
hole', and whether it was ready to take on another gang-
bang. Howard then informed me that our planned visit to
the cottage was cancelled. Instead, we were off to a
part of town I didn't know all that well.

The bicycle repair shop had clearly seen better days.
There were no new bikes for sale and the inside of the
shop was dark and dirty, and littered with all kinds of
old, dilapidated bicycles.

The shop had once been owned by Otto Glaser & Son.
Unfortunately, Otto had died years ago, leaving Victor,
his son, to run the business into the ground. Victor was
far more interested in sex than bikes. However, he did
use the business as a cover to employ Saturday boys:
young lads that were paid to help out in the shop, but
in reality spent their working day upstairs, posing in
front of a camera.

Victor and his friends had converted the upstairs
stockroom into a studio. They would invite a boy to
stand under the lights, take off his clothes and have
sex with others in front of a camera. Most of the boys
were recruited by Ian and Paul, who worked as carers at
the local children's home. Other boys were picked up in
the amusement arcades by Alan and Scoot; and a few boys
were recruited by Brian, the man who liked to show the
local sea scouts the ropes.

Victor paid me ten shillings a day to work as a Saturday
boy. I would have done the job for nothing, but as
Howard explained, my parents needed to be convinced that
I was there to earn money, not to have sex. My mother
was very taken with Victor when she met him, and told me
he certainly needed some help in that shop of his - the
sly old dog had told her that it was Otto, his father,
who had let the shop go to rack and ruin. He also told
her that I was working in the shop to earn enough money
to buy a second-hand bicycle, which was news to me.

Howard and I entered the shop and were immediately waved
through to the back by Scoot, who was standing behind
the counter fiddling with a dynamo. We climbed a narrow
flight of stairs and entered the stockroom on the first
floor. The room was extremely large and separated into
three areas: the one to the left had a black leather
settee at its centre; the one to the right had a large
double bed; and the area in the centre was filled with
an untidy array of lighting stands and camera tripods,
and intermingled amongst this photographic equipment
stood three naked men and a boy.

Alan acknowledged me with a wink and a smile as he stood
listening to Brian's plan for the next session.
Apparently, prior to our arrival, Alan had seduced the
boy on the settee, stripped him naked and licked his
eleven-year-old cock into shape. The next session would
see the two of them move across to the bed and go at it
like rabbits.

'Fucking thing,' said Victor, as he continued to fiddle
with the tripod that was refusing to hold the 16mm cine-
camera in place.

The boy - a small, innocent-looking redhead with
freckles - stood beside Victor holding a near empty
bottle of Pepsi-Cola in one hand and a jar of Vaseline
in the other. Initially, I was taken aback by this
rather surreal scene; which, if you recall, was
happening in a seaside town on the south-east coast of
boring old England. However, I soon accepted the odd
reality of the situation when Howard told me to 'get
with it' and 'get undressed'.

The stockroom was now occupied by four naked adults, one
naked teenager, and one naked eleven-year-old boy.

'Well, bugger me,' said Victor, throwing his arms up in
delight. 'Young Alan's brought us some good luck. The
fucking thing's stayed put this time.'

'I told you to use another tripod, dozy,' rebuked Brian.
'We've got three of the bloody things around here
somewhere ... And what happens when you need to change
the film!'

Brian looked at Howard and mumbled something
uncomplimentary about Victor under his breath. He then
switched on the photofloods and waited for Alan and the
boy to step into the limelight.

'Okay, let's get this show on the road,' said Victor
cheerfully. 'And don't forget, Darren. I want to see
that cock of yours really hard by the time I zoom in for
the first close-up.'

The boy smiled as Alan came up behind him, kissed the
side of his neck and squeezed his tiny arse-cheeks.
Brian put a reassuring hand on Victor's shoulder to let
him know that they were still friends; and as he did so,
Howard signalled that he and I should get out of the way
and stand over by the curtained windows, which offered a
better view of the developing sex romp.

Alan and Darren were quick to get into their stride. The
young redhead was being held in a gentle embrace and
urged to stroke his pencil-thin cock, which was some
four inches long and uncut. Alan stood behind the boy
and firmly pressed his cock and ball-sac into the small
of the youngster's back.

'Ace,' said Victor, with a tremor in his voice. 'That
looks so sexy.'

'Kiss and cuddle him some more,' suggested Brian. 'And
play with his nips ... He likes that.'

Alan did as his friend suggested, which prompted the boy
to nestled back in his lover's arms and give out a low
moan of satisfaction. Everyone else in the room had a
hand wrapped tightly around his own erection - the sight
of a full-grown man having sex with a prepubescent boy
was far too stimulating to ignore. The young sea scout's
body was small and slim, with prominent shoulder blades
and a ridged backbone. His silky smooth skin was
stretched drum tight over his slender rib cage, and
punctuated by tiny, hard-standing nipples. In contrast,
the soldier's body was large and muscular, and fit
enough to fuck a whole boatload of sea scouts.

'Okay, Darren,' said Brian. 'Bend forward and let Alan's
tongue go to work on that lovely bum-hole of yours.'

The boy spread his legs, leaned forward and placed his
hands flat-out on the sheet covered bed. He then turned
and smiled directly into the camera's lens as Alan knelt
down, eased his arse-cheeks apart and began licking his
'lovely bum-hole'.

'That's it, that's it,' Victor enthused. 'It's a pity we
haven't got the other camera up and running. We could
have done with a close-up of both the head and the
tail.'

'Just concentrate on the tail shot,' said Brian, patting
Victor's right buttock with his free hand. 'You're no
Roman Polanksi.'

'Maybe we should invite Polanksi to direct our next
film,' said Victor. 'We could call it "Prick in the
Water", or "Prick in the Arse", or maybe something a
little more arty farty.'

'Just concentrate on the tail shot,' repeated Brian
wearily.

Howard and I stood by the curtained windows and watched
Darren's body tense, relax, and then tense again in
response to Alan's probing tongue. I became very envious
of the redhead when I heard him cooing and sighing with
such intensity. However, my envy suddenly vanished when
Howard told me to spread my legs, leaned forward and
take hold of my knees.

For some ten minutes, Darren and I were treated to an
exhilarating and mind-blowing bout of rimming. My whole
body quaked with excitement as Howard used the tip of
his tongue to keep me pleading for 'more ... more ...
more' - just like Darren was doing on the end of Alan's
greedy tongue.

'That's it, Howard,' said Brian. 'Get him ready for the
four o'cock rock. We can fuck him on the bed later,
after Alan's finished poking Darren.'

I looked up and saw Alan and Darren separate, clamber
onto the bed and re-engage in a sixty-nine position. The
cine-camera zoomed in to capture a close-up of the boy
struggling to cope with Alan's eight-inch cock - his
mouth was simply too small to accommodate the whole
thing in one go. Unfortunately, I missed out on what
happened next. My head dropped and I gave out a howl of
satisfaction - Howard's tongue had struck gold and I was
right there to cash in on the strike.

I grasped my knees until they hurt; I shook my head
until I was dizzy; and I kept saying 'don't stop' until
I was blue in the face. I was on cloud nine, and my
four-inch cock, which was aching for relief and bouncing
around in mid-air below my belly, was on cloud ten.

'What a horny little fucker,' said Brian. 'He certainly
likes all that attention you're giving him, Howard.'

'Don't over do it,' added Victor. 'We don't want him
shagged out before the big event.'

I shuddered with excitement as my imagination conjured
up a vivid image of the 'big event': I was going to be
fucked by dozens of big, burly men. They were all
waiting outside the stockroom door, on the staircase,
and they were all naked and extremely.... A hard slap on
my right thigh brought me suddenly back to reality.

'Come on, tiger,' said Howard. 'Let's fool around on the
settee ... It'll be more comfortable.'

'But,' I said in a disappointed huff.

'No buts!' chide Howard. 'The settee awaits us.'

>From the glint in his eye, I knew that Howard was
expecting me to reward him for all the hard work he had
put in so far; and sure enough, the instant we were on
the settee he assumed the position and invited me to use
my tongue on his 'love hole'.

'That's it, tiger,' he cooed, as my tongue probed the
little starburst between his arse-cheeks. 'Keep
doing.... Ah! Yes, yes, yes-s-s-s.'

Meanwhile, on the bed, Alan and Darren were locked in a
passionate embrace. The camera had been moved to a new
location, to get a better view of the action, and Brian
and Victor were waiting for Alan to end the scene by
turning the boy on his front and spreading his legs
apart.

'That's great, Al,' said Brian. 'Now in the next scene,
I want to see you climb aboard and take the young
scallywag for a ride ... And don't worry about being too
hard on him, he can handle it.'

As Alan reached for the Vaseline, Victor announced that
he needed a couple of minutes to replace the film in the
camera; a task which, when complete, didn't cause any of
the problems Brian had envisaged earlier.

With a new film in the camera, Victor signalled to Brian
that he was ready to resume filming.

'Okay, everybody,' said Brian. 'Let's get this show on
the road. We have a hole to fill and an audience to
please, so chop, chop.'

Darren sniggered and braced himself for the scene ahead.
He had been fucked a good many times before, but never
by a cock that was as big as Alan's. Brian usually
teamed him up with boys from the children's home,
although he had been fucked by a rather large dildo
once.

The film in which he and the dildo had shared a scene
together was based on one of Brian's abduction and rape
fantasies. Three teenagers and a man, a Fagin-type
character, jumped him in the park and carried him off to
their liar. The gang stripped him naked and took turns
in sucking his cock. The teenagers then tied him to a
Long John coffee table and, before fucking him with the
rubber dildo, helped the man redden his arse-cheeks with
a leather strap.

Darren winced when Alan's cock-head entered his
arsehole. The memory of the dildo and leather strap made
him shudder as the Vaseline coated cock pushed its way
into his rectum.

'Spread those legs apart, boy,' boomed Brian. 'And don't
look so glum. It's good to have a cock up your bum.'

Victor looked up from the camera and gave an exaggerated
sigh: he had heard the same old line a hundred times
before. Darren was too preoccupied with Alan's lust for
his arse to take much notice of the joke. He just shut
his eyes and grimaced when the man's powerful buttocks
began hammering his body into the mattress.

Because of all the attention he had received from Alan,
Darren was far too exhausted to watch his replacement
being stretched out on the bed and fucked in turn by
Brian, Howard, Victor and Scoot. All four men managed to
put me in the same exhausted state as the redhead. In
fact, Darren and I spent a good hour recovering on the
settee while the men drank beer and discussed their
sexual prowess.

I visited the shop at least once a week over the next
two years. It was a very exciting and exhausting time
for me, especially when I started to appear in more and
more of the group's Triple X films.

Toward the end of my Southend-on-Sea film career, Ian
and Paul invited me to spend a day in London with them,
visiting some new-found friends of theirs. Howard drove
the three of us up to the Smoke in his car; and that's
where I met Simon, the boy who became my boyfriend a few
months later (read 'Black Knight Takes White Pawn' by
Simon Taylor for more details on the London visit).


All comments welcome (avidfan69@hotmail.com)

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