
Altar Boy, Cadet, Newspaper Boy: by (c) Hamilton Joyce

There was just about enough light to see the two figures sprawled on the double bed. They were still and there was something of the atmosphere of passion spent, of desire temporaily satisfied. One of the figures was laying belly-down, head cradled on bended arm, the other arm listless on the pillow. It was white, so white as to seem almost translucent, smooth-skinned and slender-bodied, an elegant and beautiful form, and a connoisseur would particularly appreciate a rounded bottom, still slender but promising sexual delights: colloquially a 'bubble-butt', un-athletic but very, very desirable.... The other figure was gloriously masculine, big-boned, muscular, just as motionless but despite closed eyes there was something of animal contentment about his pose, laying on one side facing his sexual partner. For it would be obvious to any observer that they had just been making love, and these were the moments of tranquility that follow the act.

The large male stretched out an arm, opened his eyes, and place a proprietorial hand on that lovely arse. His arm and hand looked even more tanned against the delicate white skin.

'You've got a lovely arse, Sandy!'

'And you've got a wonderful, vigorous cock, Duncan, so we're well suited.'

'That was great for me!'

There was more silence, and Duncan gently stroked rounded buttocks: his cock was soft still and the gesture was more of admiration and friendship than lust.

'Sandy...?'

'Yes?'

'I always meant to ask. Do you have to confess what we just did? I mean it's supposed to be a sin to fuck in the arse.'  

Sandy rolled over on his side facing his lover. His chest was hairless, and the fringe of hair at the base of his belly was no more than you would expect to find on a teenage boy, and a young teenager at that. But his cock, still hard, was of adult size, not a big one admittedly, but not small either, and just as white as the rest of his body except for the pink helmet. It looked as if he had probably been cut, though it is sometimes difficult to tell with some men if they are hard.

'No. I had that out with Father Van der Pol long ago, soon after we met. Your friend Jolyon Fairlight told me Father Van der Pol was sympathetic to gays, so I started going to him for confession. Anyway, he says there is no sin if it's in a loving relationship, and whatever we do with each other is just between us; he doesn't think it should be confessed. So I don't.'

'Many priests like him?'

'He's Dutch, and they can be more liberal from there. Lots of priests are gay of course, that's well known. Father Van der Pol is: he has been with his housekeeper Julius for many years. I've been lucky with my priests. Some of them are real bastards though about sex between men, really vindictive. Don't stop, Duncan. Thats nice.'

Duncan had moved closer, and had the young man in his arms again, body-to-body, and was stroking and caressing his flawless back. 'Lucky?'

'My first priest was a very nice man. Have I told you about Father O'Hare?'

'No, but I'd love to know.' He got up from the bed and strode to the window to open the curtains. Sandy looked at those massive thighs, tiny muscular butt, broad shoulders and bull-neck, and felt his cock twitch. He could cum so easily now! 'Nasty day, grey and raining.' A gust of wind rattled rain against the windows. 'Should think there's ice in among the rain. I don't feel like getting the papers yet, so tell me about Father O'Hare. He was your first priest?'

'First everything, darling!'

'Tell me more!'

Back in bed again, arms around his lover again, he kissed him lightly on the lips.

'You know I had to live with my Gran when I was thirteen, nearly fourteen in fact. Until I left to go to Uni.'

'Your mother got into trouble you said once.'

'More than trouble! She killed a guy. It's still years before she can even ask for parole. Anyway, I didn't mind as my mother was terrible, always hitting me, especially when she was drunk, and sold everything in the house for drugs. I was better off with Gran, especially as it was that or the Care Home. Anyway my Gran was very religious, very Catholic and churchy, rest her old soul. The first Sunday I was with her it was bathed, scrubbed, dressed in best new suit, and off to ten o'clock mass. Of course I didn't know anything about religion, as my mother didn't give a toss about anything but drugs and booze. But I was fascinated by the colour and music, and by the almost-dance of the priest and his altar-boy as they went through the age-old rituals of the mass. It was that, the art and emotion of religion, the dramatic qualities that I liked, much more than the ideas, even from the first.'
  
'You still like that don't you.'

'Yup! I should be there now, of course. It's just ten. But frankly I'd rather be here in bed with you being well-fucked than any amount of incense and singing!'

'I love you, Sandy.'

'Kiss me!'

'Anyway, that would not do. I needed to be confirmed, and in order to be confirmed I needed to be taught, That's called The Catechism.'

'Cataclysm?'

'Don't interrupt. Catechism. And Father O'Hare it was who taught me, Thursday evenings.'

'Tell me about Father O'Hare....' 

He was a big man, big in all ways. He was built like you, Duncan, a real 'brick-shithouse' of a man, but big in other ways too, like he was always laughing, big-hearted. I used to enjoy my Thursday evening lessons with him, and he managed to make even the boring theology and morality stuff amusing and interesting. Anyway, the lessons went on once a week for several months until I was almost ready. By then I felt close to him in a way I'd never felt before, almost the father I'd never had. Or perhaps a very nice uncle. And never the hint of anything sexual from him (though I must admit sometimes when I was jerking off alone at night I thought of him, along with other guys and even a few girls).

'Girls!'

'I'm probably bisexual, Duncan. But since I'm in love with you, you great big golden bear....'

'Kiss me again!'

'It was the last lesson but one, and Father O'Hare for some reason was not in his usual clerical garb but in a tight green-hooped t-shirt ("to remind me of Old Ireland" he joked) and very tight white shorts. I had been looking at him all evening as he explained trans-substantiation to me, finding it difficult to concentrate thinking about his strong thighs and broad shoulders: I could see his nipples quite clearly through the cotton, and his well-developed pecs. I'm afraid I was beginning to get a hard-on and that reminded me of something I would have to do Sunday week, before my first real mass. Also I thought I could see his own bulge, perhaps in the same state as mine....'

'I expect he'd seen you looking at him, and noticed your bulge too. We're pretty good at that, as you well-know you cock-hound. A bulge there in a pretty teenage boy would certainly make me hard'


'Maybe he had. Anyway he spotted I was worried. He said I seemed quiet, and was something concerning me? I'm sure I blushed, but I told him I was worried about the confession I would have to make before my first communion. I would be ashamed to admit to him....'

"It's not to me, Alexander.... it's to God. And in any case I doubt it's anything I haven't heard a hundred times before. It's sex, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"It always is!" He was silent what seemed an age, waiting for me.

I finally found courage and blurted out to him that I jerked off every night and most mornings, and sometimes during the day too.

"Of course you do. All boys and men do sometimes, and women too come to that. That's not a sin, and you won't be confessing that."

I was sure now that he had a hard-on like me! But I continued, telling him the way I did it WAS a sin, as I often did it with a friend, like we did it to each other. I jerked him and he jerked me.

"A boy?"

I nodded.

"That blonde-haired boy I've seen you with?"

I nodded.

"Well, that's not a sin either, and it's quite normal for boyhood friends, and even for grown-up men friends. It's a sort of male-bonding, and I can't see any harm in it at all. Probably more men have done it with other men than have not. No need to confess that: no harm to anyone."

'And that was when he took his hand that had been resting almost un-noticed on my naked thigh, and grasped me in the crotch: now, that I did notice! It was almost like a dream for me, one of my nightly fantasies, as he undid my belt and slid my zip down, hooked his hand inside my underpants and had my hard little cock in his hand. Then I noticed that at the same time he had unzipped his shorts, and had his cock and his balls completely free of them. He was hard, and I thought it was the loveliest... wrong word... most manly and exciting thing I had ever seen. It also struck me as huge, the first adult erect prick I had ever seen. It was not big actaully, and a good thing too, as I was only thirteen! He took my hand, and placed it on his cock, so we each were holding the other. He squeezed my cock gently, and I squeezed his back: it was hotter than little Johnny's, longer and thicker, and redder, and much more exciting. I had been here before, of course, with my friend Johnny, so I started to jerk him and wordless he jerked me.

'I came first, one of my best so far, spunk flying up and splattering on my shirt, but just the one spurt. Then he came, and that was another surprise for me, as I had never seen so much cum. Four great spurts, all over his and my clothes, and running all over my hand as I still wanked him. He laughed. "Now, that was good, wasn't it, young Alexander. And nothing to confess, I promise you."

'I wish I'd known you when you were thirteen, Sandy!'

'I was more into grown men, Duncan.'

'Tart! Kiss me!'

The next Thursday, the last of my lessons we just jerked each other off before the lesson started, as if it was completely the natural thing to do....as I suppose it was!'

Sunday I made my confession just before Mass (mostly we do it the day before, but this first one was special and the whole congregation was there to witness my communion.) I especially enjoyed the ritual this time, more than usual I guess, as I thought I was really part of it for the first time. After, Father O'Hare shook my Gran's hand, and then mine, and sprung his surprise.

'Simon, my altar boy, is leaving next Thursday: His father has a new job in Manchester, and they have to move. So I'm looking for an altar boy....'

'Oh! Please, Father, I'd really like that!'

My Gran positively glowed with pleasure. I wonder if she would have been so happy had she known it was not just the service, but the sex after, that lovely hard cock in its nest of golden hair.... So, the next Sunday I took communion at the altar, and also started to learn the movements and ritual. I'd already got a good idea, of course. And after the mass we both went to the vestry to get out of our robes...his heavy brocades, and my simple white and gold shift.

'Aha! Now he had you!'

'Aha indeed Duncan. And yes, he had me! I just had to pull the shift over my head, and then fold it up and put it into the chest where it was kept. I was naked under it, except for my white trainers. His robes were more complicated, and I helped him with the various layers, taking each and folding it, while he removed the next. It must have been strange to be assisted by a naked teenager, though I suppose it's possible my predecessor, Simon, had enjoyed the same privileges!  Anyway, finally he too was naked, except for black socks and shiny black patent leather shoes. That looked funny... big, golden-haired man with lovely hard cock, and black shoes. I giggled, and he laughed with pleasure: I could see he was happy that I was happy. He caught me up, feet right off the ground, hugged me, and kissed me on the lips. It was the sexiest feeling I had ever known, and I thought I would cum! But he carried me over to an old broken-backed sofa in the corner, red velvet and old satin cushions, and placed me sprawled across it. 

'I was astounded as he knelt in front of me, grasped my hips in his great paws, lowered his head to my crotch and took my prick in his mouth. I was so startled I tried to pull away, but immediately the feeling was so good that I disappeared again into that dreamy sexuality I had known the first time he jerked me. Only this was better, so wet and so warm, and so loving. I reached down and held his head between my palms as he bobbed up and down on me. Then my hands to those broad and muscular shoulders, kneading and caressing him, so masculine. He was stroking my hips and thighs, and sometimes cupping or gently squeezing my balls, still nearly hairless. I felt myself coming and tried to pull away, telling him I was about to spurt, but he held my thighs tight, and I squirted my thin boy-cum into his mouth. He kept me inside him until I had surrendered the very last drops, and then sat beside me. As we sat and kissed, I could taste my cum on his lips, and that was doubly sexy!  

'But he was still hard, eh, Sandy!'

'You're getting ahead of me you old bum bandit, Duncan. But you're right, of course, he's still hard. And, would you believe it, so am I! Oh, to be a teenager again!'    

'There's always viagra, darling!'

'Thank heavens! Now where was I?'

'Sitting beside this hunky male, looking at his lovely hard cock.'

'Exactly! But he got up and went over to a drawer, opened it, and came back with a piece of paper and a small bottle. He handed me what was a clipping from a magazine. I looked at it, shocked, but excited.'

'Let me guess, sandy! It was a pic of a middle-aged guy up a teenage boy's arse...'

'Right in one, Duncan.'

"We talked about male bonding once, Alexander. This is the best way. You see what they are doing?'

"It looks painful, Father."

"Only a bit at first. And when you are used to it it is lovely."

"Nicer even than being sucked?"

"Oh,yes, Alexander. Though it's often nice to start by sucking and finish by fucking."

"I didn't know men could fuck each other, Father."

"They certainly can. Look at the boy's face."

" He's smiling, Father."

"Yes, you can see he's enjoying it. Want to try? You'd make me very happy if you would."

"Don't hurt me...."

'Father O'Hare was very careful. He turned me on my belly, and he must have rimmed me for ten minutes, tonguing my arsehole, penetrating my anus gently, relaxing the muscles. Then with lube from his little bottle it was one finger, searching out my immature prostate and giving me real pleasure with a finger fuck as he whispered flattering endearments, and kissed and fondled me. I was very aware of his hard cock, still finding it fascinating, and especially the pre-cum that dripped from it as he got more and more excited by his little conquest. Then, two fingers in my bottom now, my face against his hairy chest, I found myself drifting into that same sexual reverie as earlier. The time was ripe!. He turned me over and plumped a cushion under my thighs, my hard cock sinking into the soiled satin. He lifted my thighs and dripped still more oil into my crease. Now I could feel the weight of his knob against my anus: I liked the feel of that and wriggled my arse. He laughed and with a push his knob was in me. That hurt. and I cried out.

"Sh! It will pass, just wait!"

'The pain did pass of course, and I felt him slide right in me. He was not as broad or as long as you, lover, and it was ideal for a virgin fuck! He fucked me with long, slow sweeps, and I could feel his strong hands gently stroking my back and sometimes my buttocks. then he slipped one hand under me and was holding my cock, gripping it, releasing it, gripping it again, in time with each thrust of his penis.'

'Was it good that first time, Sandy?'

'Not really, Duncan, to be honest. It's really something you have to learn like a lot of good things in life. It didn't hurt, but there was no real pleasure yet. His hand under me wanking my cock was nice, of course, and sometimes he held my balls and stretched the sack a little bit. That was sexy. And I liked it when he kissed my neck and licked me there. But most of all it was the knowledge I was giving him pleasure, and above all that I was wanted by him. I'd gone through most of my life so far unwanted.'

'Oh! My poor Sandy!'

'It was good to hear him whispering how good I was, and to feel his hand on my bottom and back and his lips on my neck, and his other hand on my cock. I was hard and close to coming. I knew he was too as he was fucking faster now, and his thrusts were shorter and sharper. It was nicer for me now as well, and it was good to hear him moan. Then I knew he was coming and I imagined his spunk squirting right up inside me: that was exciting and I came too, over his hand and into the cushion, adding to the stains on it I suppose.'

'So he had you every Sunday from then on?'

'And some evenings too. I got in the habit of going round to the church to do some work there often in the evening. His old housekeeper went home at six so we could go to bed together and he could fuck me in comfort. I soon got to enjoy it and really look forward to it. We had about a year, and then the Bishop moved him to an inner city parish in London. They reckoned he was a good priest and promoted him. I expect one or two London boys benefitted, but I was crestfallen. I carried on being an altar boy for the new guy, but there were no extras! I must have been just fifteeen.'

'And no sex, then.'

'Johnny was going out with a girl, so that had long finished. But I seduced the postman and he used to have me one or two mornings a week. And also a plumber who was doing some work, but that was a one-off.'

'Both big, beefy guys?'

'Sure. I got both the same way, by letting then see me naked and with a hard-on, hanging about near them. Later I got good at spotting guys who fancied me,: I knew if they were looking a bit too hard, and if they were my type I made sure they had me. I was a bit of a slut, and knew where the gays and bi-sexual married guys went to cruise. So I had enough sex, really, and varied. There, Duncan, now you know all my little secrets! And I don't know any of yours.' 

'Let's fuck again. You've really got me going with your story.'

'We've got all day. It's still raining. You tell me about your first time.....'

'It'll be a long story.'

'Good.'

                                                .....................................................

'I went to a good private school, and was in the cadet corps.'

'I've heard what goes on at those "good private schools".

'Mostly fantasy, I think. All the boys wanked of course, but the ethos was really very homophobic and as far as I know gay sex was rare and very secret. Anyway, that's not how it happened to me first time. 

'The best part of belonging to the cadet corps was the annual two week camp, when we went to a proper army camp in the Welsh mountains and were taught to be soldiers. Played at being soldiers really.I'd been the year before, and was so looking forward to it. I was fourteen.

'Would you believe it? I fell off the lorry that took us there and sprained my ankle the minute we arrived. So it was off to the hospital for x-rays and strapping up. Luckily the ankle was not broken, but would be about a month to heal they said. I thought I would have to go straight back home, but they were nice about it, could see how disappointed I was, and said I could stay for the class-room stuff and for the rifle shooting. But the best bits, the survival and the practical platoon tactics sessions, obviously I would have to stay in camp.'

'When they went off to the hills I was left behind to limp about feeling sorry for myself. There were still plenty of soldiers about in the camp, and the Sergeant PTI who had been training the group came by my hut to make sure I was still OK. 

'PTI?'

'Physical Training Instructor, He was a nice friendly sort of guy and obviously felt sorry for me, could see I was really bored.'

"There's a European Cup match on the box tonight. You could come over and watch it if you like: be something to do...."

'So at just before seven I was sitting down beside him in front of the television watching the hand-shaking etc before the match. He got up and went to a fridge in the corner and came back with a couple of cans.'

"Get round one of these, Duncan"

"I don't really drink beer, Sarge."

"It's time you started then."

'He opened the tag for me and I took my first swig. It was that strong lager, but seemed ok and I soon drank the lot as we watched Liverpool completely outplay some minor opposition. I started a second can. Well, you know me, Sandy, one sniff of the barmaid's apron and I'm drunk. So before I knew it I was at least tipsy! I scarcely noticed Sarge's hand resting on my bare knee (I was in khaki shorts). I certainly did notice it though, when it moved up my legs and rested on my crotch. Not that I minded, as I found it pleasant, and more exciting than the match (!): I was getting a hard on, but feeling oddly passive, happy just to wait and see what would happen. I felt him grasp my cock through the cotton, and the next thing I knew was he was on his knees in front of me, had undone my belt, unzipped me, and had my cock in his mouth. You never forget the first time and I can still remember the feeling of his lips around me, his tongue flickering up and down the shaft as he sucked, the warmth and wetness, and my hands holding his head, feeling his short-cropped hair.

'As he sucked me he was undoing his own belt with his free hand, unzipping, and taking his cock out. It looked huge to me, my first adult erect cock, but in fact I expect it was just average as he was not a big built guy. So he stroked his cock while he sucked me, and I slumped back in a daze, part alcohol of course, but mostly the pleasure of being sucked off. When I came he swallowed.

'After, he sat beside me and handed me my beer again, which had been on the side table while he sucked me.'

"That was nice, Duncan. I'd like to massage you. I'm good at it. Shall I?"   

'I was feeling very passive: I felt he could do anything he wanted.

'So I just lay there while he pulled my shorts down and off, unbuttoned my shirt, and soon had me naked on the settee. He had me turn over so I was laying on my belly, and I luxuriated as I felt his strong hands kneading my shoulder muscles, sliding over my back, slippery with scented oil. And then, of course, his hands were on my butt, pressing and caressing, and down into the crease. I felt his fingers rubbing, sliding over my anus, and then the strange, new sensation when he slid a finger up into my arse, and I suppose must have found my adolescent prostate, because it felt good. I was completely relaxed (the beer!) and he soon had two fingers in me, finger-fucking and stretching me gently.'

"I want your sweet arse, Duncan."

'That's all he said all that time. Just those five simple words, and although I knew well enough what he meant, I made no protest. He arranged me over the edge of the settee, and I felt his hands again on my bottom, but stretching it apart this time, slipping a bit with the oil, but certainly parting my cheeks. Then he placed his cock, and was inside me. It didn't hurt.... I was lucky and he had prepared me well. So I just lay there, my cock hard again and pressed into the cushions while he fucked me. That was my first, Sandy.'

'I was sure it would be a youger boy, not a beefy Sargeant, Duncan.'

'He wasn't really beefy. More your hard, stringy type, all bone and muscle. Anyway, when I woke up with him in the morning and he had me fuck him from behind, he had a nice tiny little bum which I enjoyed! We fucked each other a lot over the next three days and nights, until the cadets came back, when it had to stop.'

'So when did you start fucking boys: I know that's what you really like.'

'That's why I want you all the time, Sandy. You really are boyish. Mmmmmm. Like you I got quite good at spotting boys who were interested in me, and I soon found one at school who was pretty in an almost feminine way, and was always being bullied. I started to stand up for him, and we went about quite a lot. I eventually had him bent over a fallen log in the summer woods... it may have been gratitude to me that first time for him, but it was soon a real passion, and we had quick fucks in any quiet corner we could find around the school. In the Christmas holidays I had one of my brother's friends. I could see he had a crush on me, and it was easy to persuade him to bare his bum for me, and when my brother found out (he's eighteen months younger than me) he wanted me to fuck him too. I must have had a dozen different boys, all younger than myself, in those four years before I went up to Uni and we met.'

'You miss it, don't you, Duncan. I mean you really do prefer teenage boys.'

'You're enough for me, darling. You've a lovely body, silky and smooth...'

'I know a boy we could have, Duncan, if you want.....'

'Tell me more, lover.'

'You know that blonde kid other end of the road. he's called Mark.'

'Pretty boy. About fourteen. Yes, I know him...'

'He buys Gay magazines at the newsagent. Old Beer-gut there shouldn't sell them to him... he's fifteen in fact but well under-age.....but I know he does as I saw him buy one last month. I expect he'd like to try the real thing.'

'Come here, Sandy. You've really got me going!'

'I tell you what, Duncan. It's stopped raining now and the sun's out. I'll nip out and get the papers before he closes, you sort out a dvd....that new one would be good....and then we'll have a real sexy morning in bed.'

'I know you, Sandy. If you get dressed you probably won't come back to bed.'

'Then I wont get dressed! I'll borrow your huge Barbour, down to my ankles, and wear your Wellinton Boots. Naked under...it's only fifty yards after all.'

'Don't forget some cash then...'

                                              ....................................................................

These things just happen if you are lucky. Blonde boy Mark walked into the shop just as Sandy was picking out the three papers they took on Sundays.

'Morning, Mark.'

'Morning, Mr Henderson.'

Shopkeeper is out the back for five minutes. he'll be back soon. Asked me to watch the shop while he's away.'

'I'm not in a hurry. Nothing to do all day.'

'If you're buying a mag, this is a good one. Duncan and I enjoyed it.'

The boy blushed scarlet.

'It's OK. Duncan and I are gay as well.'

'I wondered....'

'Well, Mark, we are. And we like porn. In fact when I get back we are going to watch a new gay dvd I've been really looking forward to.'

'I've never seen a gay film... Just pics in the magazines.'

'Well, if you're really not doing anything this morning, why not come back with me and watch it with us. I'm sure Duncan would like to meet you. Ah here comes the shopkeeper.'

'I don't think I'll need this today. The boy put the magazine back in the top shelf rack.


                                                .............................................................

Sandy kicked off his boots on the doormat. 'Take your shoes off, please, Mark, and I'll hang your anarak up.' The boy looked really cute in his white t-shirt, blue denim jeans and bare feet. For a moment Sandy could see why his partner lusted after teens!  He took his heavy green overcoat off and hung it up beside the boy's anarak, almost forgetting he was stark-naked beneath. He could hear the boy's intake of breath and turned round. Mark's jaw had dropped in amazement at the sudden vision of a naked man, the real thing at last. 'We always watch porn naked.... you should too. Here!' The boy acquiesced as his t-shirt was pulled up and over his head,his belt undone, his jeans unzipped and allowed to drop to the floor. He stepped out of them and stood in startling white y-fronted cotton pants. Again Sandy understood his partner's delight in under-age boys, and his mind went back to his teenage school-friend, the only young boy he had ever played with. All the others had been older, and most of them grown men. 'You're very good-looking, Mark. Come and meet my partner, Duncan.'

The two of them, man and boy stood in the bedroom doorway and Sandy laughed at his partner's double-take. The boy was looking down at his feet, embarrassed and shy, but he had a lovely little hard-on, cock jutting out and making an obvious bulge in his figure hugging underwear. 'This is Mark, Duncan. He's come to watch your new dvd with us.' The boy looked up at last and his face broke into a grin: here was another naked man, and another half-hard cock, stiffening visibly as he looked .

'That'll be fun. Come and sit between us on the bed and I'll start the film.'

Mark sat propped up against a pillow exactly where Duncan had patted the bed in invitation. The bedclothes were folded back to the foot of the large double bed. Sandy sat down beside the boy, who watched Duncan as he went to the TV in the corner of the bedroom. The muscles of Duncan's tiny arse moved as he walked, and were the sexiest thing the boy had ever seen, that is until after fiddling with the set and starting a film, Duncan turned round and the boy could see his now totally-hard cock pointing straight at them as he loped back to the bed. It looked all the larger as Duncan had removed every trace of body hair around his balls and arse.

Now they sat, three in a row, watching the film, which started with a well-built guy cruising his silver Mercedes to a stop and picking up a lad standing in a lay-bye on some grotty industrial estate. A minute or two later and they are both in a hotel room with the usual prints on the wall and double bed. Mark watched as the two stripped naked and the man kissed the boy, hugging him, before pushing him down on the mattress. 

Out of the corner of his eye Mark could see that both Duncan and Sandy, one each side of him, were stroking their cocks. 'Sod it, me too!' he thought, and pulled his own pants down and off so he could finger his own cock. The two young men ignored the film to feast their eyes on Mark's cock, slender and much lighter than his tanned body, white except for the pretty, pink helmet. His pubic hair was a tiny triangle of golden fluff, and his balls looked nearly hairless. Duncan let his free hand rest on the boy's thigh a second, then stroked the fine skin, and finally closed his fist round the boy's fist and cock.

In the film, the man was now sucking the boy's cock. As if it was a cue, Duncan leaned over and closed his lips around Mark's cock-head, allowing the shaft to slide slowly into his mouth till all was engulfed. The boy's legs straightened and stiffened a second, before he sighed and relaxed to enjoy the new sensation. Sandy contented himself with stroking the boy's hips and thighs, and then licking and sucking the nipple closest to him, feeling it stiffen. Mark had his eyes shut, but had found Duncan's head with his hands and was holding it lightly as lips bobbed up and down on him. Sandy managed to get his hand under one thigh and held the boy's balls while his friend brought him to a quick climax, the boy-cum spurting just once into his mouth.

Now they were sitting in a row again, but Mark had his arm round Duncan's shoulder, and his hand on the man's erect cock: it was clear that the boy shared Sandy's preference for big, muscular men rather than pale and interesting boyish guys. On the film, the rent boy was being prepared for anal sex, kneeling and having lube spread between his arse cheeks: his customer's cock was gleaming and glistening, oiled ready. There was a sudden intake of breath from Mark as the guy pushed his cock up the rent-boy's arse, steadily, slowly, powerfully. The boy took it with no problems and even leaned back into the guy to force the cock even deeper. As they fucked the camera switched to the boy's face, and the pleasure on it was not assumed, one felt. 

'Jeez! That's got to hurt him, surely!'

'Look at his face, Mark.'

'He's smiling, and got a sort of dreamy look in his eyes.'

'So?'

'So I guess he's enjoying it.'

'It has to be learned for most guys, but we all end up loving it. Shall we show him, Sandy.'

'Mmmm.' Sandy knelt towards the foot of the bed, still facing the tv screen. Young Mark watched as Duncan greased his cock, presented it to his lover's white and smooth arse, pushed, and slid up into him. The boy, unthinking and so not embarassed, reached out and felt Duncan's broad and muscular buttocks as they moved back and forth in the age-old homage of cock to anus. Duncan turned to the boy. still, however, fucking in a steady rhythm. 'You have a go, Mark: he's got a lovely bum and you'll enjoy fucking him.'

'Yes, give me some, Mark!'

'The boy was rock hard again. (Oh to be a teen once more!). He reached for the tube of lube.

'Shouldn't think you'll need that, Mark. he's well-lubed, and well-opened up too!'

Later Mark wished he had concentrated more on what was the most formative moment in his young life: he spread Sandy's white and smooth buttocks with both hands, and remembered feeling how soft and smooth they were, so white, and the now open and welcoming, shining with oil. Duncan was holding Mark's cock now and placed it.

'Push!'

It slid in so easily, and he heard a sigh, surely of contententment and pleasure from the kneeling young man. Sandy was muttering how good it was and urging him to fuck harder. He felt underneath the kneeling form and found his cock rock hard. The panting, swearing and squeaks of joy increased beneath him. And Mark's pleasure was intense too: this beat jerking off, even being sucked off. This was the real thing: the look and the feel of a sexy male body beneath his hands, the slap of his balls and thighs against a willing arse, the feel of Duncan's hands caressing his own back and buttocks as he fucked. Most of all, beyond even the pleasure in his own cock, was the feeling of pride and manhood: he was giving real excitement and ecstasy to his new lover, and that was the greatest joy. He suddenly wondered whether it would be possible for Duncan to kneel behind him and get his cock in even as he shagged, so all three would be at it. With this happy tought he tipped over the edge into orgasm and came, the biggest and best cum of his young life.

He rested several moments draped over the collapsed body of his partner before that still tight anus expelled his cock. He was surprised that it was clean. (Later that day Duncan would teach him the secret of male douching, and wiould even give him a spare, new douche).

'Good?'

'Wonderful!'

'Was for me too. You gave me a right good see-in to.' Mark giggled at the fake Yorkshire accent.

'I'm still afraid it will hurt.'

'Might first time, but probably not, and in any case not for long. You've got to start some time.'

'Will you be gentle, Duncan?'

'Until you tell me not to, sweetie, Kneel like Sandy did.'

For a long time it was pleasant, even soothing, as he felt his buttocks being spread by strong hands, and then the gentle pressure of a finger moving up and down his crease applying just the slightest pressure to his anus. By the way the finger was sliding he knew there was plenty of oil there too. He felt lips on the small of his back and Sandy managed to kiss him on the lips as he knelt. The whole experience was very sensual, and this did not change as that roving finger gradually slipped into his bottom, knuckle deep at first and then completely. Now his anus was being finger fucked so very slowly and gently, and it was so good he felt himself going into a reverie, scarcely aware of anything beyond two pairs of hands intent on caressing, giving and taking pleasure. He felt his anus stretched, and knew that more than one finger was in it now: and that was still good.

The almost-trance was broken by a sudden pain and he knew those gentle fingers had been replaced by Duncan's hard cock. He felt his arsehole contract and grip the invading cock tightly. 
 
'Shh! It'll be all right. Wait a minute'. That was Sandy whispering in his ear. He knew Sandy loved being fucked, and knew he too must have had his first time, and was willing to wait while the pain passed and his bottom relaxed.

Duncan felt the grip on his shaft relax and pulled it back an inch or two before pushing again till this time he was in completely, his balls touching Mark and his thighs resting on the boy's buttocks. Out and in again, and he was fucking, slowly and gently, but certainly fucking!

The pain had gone now, but Mark could not call it pleasure.... not yet.

'I think you could do me a bit harder now, Duncan....' He remembered Duncan had hinted the boy would soon be asking for "harder, faster", the cry of every man with a hard cock up his arse. Mark felt down and found his own cock still hard. He started to jerk it, and, yes! he was now feeling something in his arse. Yes, this was good. 'Harder, faster. Oh yes!'

His own hand flew up and down his cock, Sandy was caressing his shoulders and whispering sweet obscenities in his ear, and Duncan was now fucking him with all the vigour of a young athlete. This was heaven! He felt himself about to come.

'I'm coming!'

'Me too!'

The knowledge that the boy was coming, was feeling that ecstasy, brought the man off, and they came together, the boy spunking over his hand and onto the sheets, the man deep inside the boy's arse.

The three were silent for a few seconds, the boy proud he had given pleasure, relieved that he had felt pleasure, and the two men looking forward to many more sessions with this beautiful teenage boy. As the boy's arse finally expelled Duncan's cock, he reached for tissues and cleaned himself and the boy: they would have to teach him to douche!

'I'll go and get some coffee.'

The two watched Sandy as he walked across the room to the door, hard cock waving in front of him as if signalling the way.

'He's so slender!'

'Willowy. Almost boyish!'

'You like boyish?'

'You know I do, Mark. You're just teasing! Kiss me!'

The kiss was long and passionate, hands still exploring unfamiliar bodies.

'I think I prefer a strong, muscular man.'

'I expect you're temperamentally a "bottom" like Sandy.

'Bottom?' 

'We say top for a guy who prefers be active, and bottom for a guy who prefers to be fucked. Versatile meand they like both. I'm top and Sandy is bottom.'

'I think I'm versatile then. I certainly liked fucking Sandy. Hey! He hasn't come yet!'

'Give him some of that when he brings the coffee.' He pointed to the screen where the rent boy was now sucking his client.  

How many men have been introduced to anal sex before the oral pleasures: with most it must be the other way round. But for Mark it was still new when Sandy slipped his cock into the boy's mouth, kneeling over his chest and holding his head between his palms. He licked the knob with his tongue, and closed his lips round the shaft feeling that at first strange contrast between the silkiness of the skin and the rubbery strength of the cock within, It was difficult to move his head laying on his back, neck propped against a pillow, but Sandy was doing all the work, moving back and forth, shagging the boy's face. Mark grasped Sandy's buttocks, one smooth cheek in each palm, and as the edge of one hand slipped into the bum-crease he heard Sandy groan with pleasure. Untaught, he knew exactly what Sandy would like and slid one finger into Sandy's arse, sliding in the lube and cum already there. He finger fucked him in rhythm with the cock sliding in and out his mouth.

Mark felt a tongue on his balls, and opened his legs a bit wider so Duncan would be able to get at them easier: he felt lips and teeth nibbling at them, pulling at his sack, licking and kissing, his thighs stroked and caressed. It crossed his mind how good it would be to have Duncan fuck him while sandy shagged his mouth. He would have to kneel for this, he worked out. Something for next time! For he was sure there would be a next time.

And still that cock between his lips, slamming roughly in and out now, faster and more brutal. This was good, but the boy's mind was wandering. He thought sudddenly of Winston McBrown. This tall, athletic black boy seemed always to be following Mark around, despite being two years older, a great gulf at their tender age. It was suddenly clear that Winston wanted him, wanted him like Sandy and Duncan did. Well he could have him, arse and mouth. He decided to walk home with the boy and tell him, no names, about this session. The rest would follow! he fluttered his tongue up Sandy's shaft and gave him a second finger. Again that satified groan of pleasure, but this time a sudden tenseness in Sandy's buttocks, and then the first gush of silky cum into his mouth. He swallowed, and there was more and more until the shagging slowed, to finally stop.

The coffee was nearly cold, but they drank it none-the-less.

'I ought to be going back... I only went out to the shop. Can I come round again?'

'I hope so. We're in lots of evenings, and always Sunday morning. Just drop in when you feel like it.'

                              .................................................................................





   

  

 

 



 

