queen-mary-bell-boys-42

Eylül 3, 2022 0 Yazar: admin

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Blowjob

Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys 42 Queen Mary Bell-boys by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 42 When we went back to join the others we found they were all in the pool. “We can’t go in there,” I said, “we’re all covered in piss – we’ll need to shower.” “No,” said Francis, “let’s stay as we are and see who’s interested. Let’s get some more food and drink.” No self-respecting 14-year-old was going to turn down food and drink – especially alcohol – in favour of a shower, particularly in circumstances where our fragrance might have been expected to be encouraging to anyone seeking further pleasures with us. Tim and I had a soft drink while Francis swigged more beer. We each heaped up a plate of food and took it out to the pool area – something normally strictly prohibited, along with nude swimming, underwater groping of underage boys and – at the far side of the pool – energetic oral sex being performed by Andrew on Ryan. “Enjoying yourselves?” called out Francis. Before we’d finished eating all the swimmers had got out of the pool and were headed for the food and drink. We joined them. “What have you been up to?” asked Tim. Sam and Charlie, temporarily deprived of younger flesh, had formed a foursome with Phil and Larry, each man having fucked a boy and each boy having been orally pleasured in turn. Alan and James had tried the sling and found whatever they had done there – we didn’t hear the details – “deeply satisfying” in James’s words. “Sounds like Alan’s learned from your fisting him,” I said to Tim. Andrew and Ryan joined us looking very happy. Ryan put his arms round Alan’s shoulder and said “your boyfriend’s a fantastic cocksucker.” Alan blushed, as did Andrew. “What’s this about boyfriends?” said Sam, “this is new.” Andrew took Alan’s hand and said that it was pretty new to them as well, but that last night it had “just happened”. Ryan went to his trolley and produced two bottles of champagne. “I was keeping these for the end of the festivities,” he said, “but that news calls for a celebration.” Twelve glasses were filled and clinked. “To the third happy couple,” said Phil. “Corrigan didn’t realise he was running a dating agency as well as a brothel.” The six of us paired up, happily grinning as bridegrooms are supposed to do at the thought of all the fucking they’re about to engage upon. Twelve glasses were drained. Sam was nuzzling Tim’s neck. “You’ve been pissing,” he said, “I can smell it.” “Guilty,” said Tim, “but not penitent. Why? D’you want to join in?” Sam shook his head. “No,” he said, “not right now. I want to fill up first. Maybe later.” James was curious. “Are all of you boys into piss?” Six heads nodded. “All six of us are willing,” I said, “but some of us are really keen.” It was Andrew who put me right. “I reckon it’s all of us who are keen,” he said, “because you don’t know everything that goes on.” This was interesting. “Tell me more,” I said, “if I’m wrong I’m delighted to hear it.” It turned out that Andrew and Alan had been amusing each other at night experimenting in the shower, and had found that pissing games were much more exciting with just the two of them. This was clearly what had led to the new relationship between them. Pissing with clients was OK, pissing with your new boyfriend was something special. “There’s no accounting for taste,” said James. “What gets you going then, James?” said Sam. “You mean apart from the sling? Well, I like being fucked, and the bigger the better. You might be a fun place to start, Sam.” Sam couldn’t turn down an invitation like that, not that Tim would have let him, so half a dozen of us trooped trough to the mattresses to watch Sam at work. Charlie and Will and I sat down to enjoy it. Charlie snuggled up to me. “You smell sexy,” he said. Will, on my other side, said he agreed. “I must try this new activity of yours,” he said. I put my arms round both of them. “You will,” I said, “and you won’t have to wait ataköy escort too long either.” I turned to Will. “Will you fuck me? I want to feel that big cock up my arse. Watching Sam feeding his eight inches into James has given me an appetite.” Will laughed. “Yeah, sure. Here?” His question was answered by my getting up and lying down on a mattress with my knees by my ears. “I think he means ‘yes’,” said Charlie, “come on, Will, I’ll help you.” Before we got started I looked over to the other mattress where Sam was already slowly fucking James from behind. Tim was lying on his back underneath James, his hands holding James’s balls and his lips round his cock. There was no way I wanted Will to fuck me from behind though. I like it much better this way, and Charlie knows why. Will knelt and hoisted my arse up before planting his cock at the entrance. It was going to be worth waiting for: ten inches, and all mine! I reached down to feel it – hot, hard, infinitely desirable. “Go on, Will, nice and slow, let me feel every inch of it.” Will started to push and I groaned happily as inch by inch it just kept coming. He managed to make that first stroke last nearly a minute, every second of it filled with the ever-increasing pressure of his cock on my insides, and the knowledge that every sensation in my body was going to be magnified by each stroke he made. When he was right in we both gave an involuntary deep sigh. “Christ, that’s good, Will,” I murmured. “Ready, Patrick?” I nodded. “Before you start,” said Charlie, “I’m coming aboard,” and he knelt over me, his knees either side of my body and his cock – his delicious cock which I loved so much – just inches from my mouth. He inched forward and rubbed the head of his cock against my lips. His foreskin was drawn back and pre-cum was leaking. I lapped gently, causing him to shudder. He put his cock into my mouth, not far, just enough for me to be able to lick the sensitive cockhead and taste the essence of his being. I was in heaven. Five minutes later all three of us were in heaven. Charlie had come in my mouth, not quite as much as he had an hour earlier, and Will had shot a big load deep up inside me. Will stayed in while Charlie got up and knelt beside me. “Wank, or suck?” he asked. “Wank, hard,” I muttered, “I need it right now.” Charlie brought me to my climax in fifteen seconds or so, and my cock spurted onto my chest. My eyes were closed as I came, so I didn’t know whose tongue it was licking me clean. I decided to keep my eyes closed while whoever it was cleaned off (and swallowed, by the sound of it) every drop. I opened my eyes. Tim. I might have guessed. “Love you, kid,” I said as I embraced him. Will slid out at this point, and I felt a trail of cum roll out of my gaping arse and down my crack. Might as well stand up, I thought, and let Will see the result of his labours running down the inside of my thighs. It needed only a little push of encouragement to start quite a respectable flow, to which I drew Will’s attention. “That’s all you,” I said, He was impressed. “I’m amazed you could take it all, Patrick,” he said. I said I’d be pleased for him to be amazed again any time he fancied it. Over the next couple of hours there was a lot more eating, a lot more drinking, and a lot more sex. I couldn’t keep track of what the others were up to, but I do remember watching Alan and Andrew – just the two of them – 69ing and obviously enjoying every moment of it. They didn’t come – not then – but after a few minutes of wild sucking they broke apart and Alan gave Andrew the most erotic-looking fuck I can remember seeing. Tim and Sam were lying back watching this performance and I looked over to see the look that passed between them. Charlie looked at me in the same way. For a bunchy of teenage whores we were a romantic lot. Being well aware that he had an audience – and an audience of colleagues at that – as well as a boyfriend to satisfy Alan pulled out of Andrew’s arse at the critical moment and fired what looked like a week’s pent-up spunk onto Andrew’s heaving body. I swear there wasn’t much pink skin visible under an ocean of semen. Andrew lay there, his cock still hard and urgent. “Come on, someone,” he moaned, “finish me off.” It was Phil who did the honours, and the ocean increased somewhat when Andrew pumped another gallon or two onto himself. By 0130 it was time to have a merter escort swim, but before that we showered. Francis, Tim and I were not the only ones who had piss to wash off – the beer and soft drinks had had their usual effect, and been enjoyed at least twice by all six of Sir’s gang as well as Francis and Will. The other four men had declined the offer. All twelve of us leapt into the pool and we spent an energetic ten minutes horsing about before Larry told us we had 15 minutes before we’d have to be out, and the place returned to normality. With twelve of us doing it the pool looked ready for passengers by 0158. Ryan’s trolley was loaded up with empties and at 0200 on the button Larry locked up. It had been a stimulating few hours, and the six of us barely made it back to our cabins before we keeled over exhausted. For some reason I woke early the next morning. Charlie was still asleep so I just lay there beside him. I didn’t want to wake him. I thought back about the night before. Francis and Will were exciting new men to come across. I wanted more, but I was realistic enough to know that once we all put our clothes back on and went back to real life the opportunities would disappear … unless Phil or Larry could arrange another entertainment now and again. Looking back now, 80 and more years later, I know that what happened that night probably saved my life, and Charlie’s too. But I’m jumping ahead. In Cabin 1 in early June 1936 with my beloved Charlie beside me I was just 14-year-old Patrick Mulloy, Master of the Universe but not a lot else. OK, I was the leader of our little gang of sinners, and Father Corrigan would not have known whether to grin at this outcome, or to pray for my soul, clearly headed for Hell. We’d crossed the Atlantic three times, I’d been fucked by goodness knows how many people, I’d made an unbelievable amount of money, I’d fallen in love … yes, life was good. Charlie moved slightly. I looked at his face. Somehow he must have sensed it because he opened his eyes and looked back at me. “Hello,” he said, “are you real?” “I’m real all right, what about you?” He thought about it, moved again, farted loudly, smiled and said, “yes, I’m real too.” Farting friends are the most intimate kind. Some clever scientist ought to work out why your own farts smell OK and other people’s farts stink. Well, that’s not completely true. Charlie’s farts didn’t stink, not to me anyway. They were Charlie, after all. I wondered whether he felt the same way about my farts. And then I realised that I knew already – he must feel the same way I did. “You were miles away,” he said, “what were you thinking?” I was embarrassed and I felt myself blushing – it was ridiculous. “Go on, tell me.” “I was thinking about farts,” I said, “and how your farts smell – well, not nice exactly, but … homely.” He burst out laughing. “Homely! That’s the daftest thing you’ve ever said.” “Now you know why I was embarrassed.” Of such trivia is love composed. It was time to get up. Charlie threw off the sheet – it was bloody hot again – and I saw his beautiful cock, hard with the need for a morning piss. I do love him. ***** We arrived in New York amid mad scenes in the Hudson River. Fireboats were making arches to celebrate our record-breaking crossing and there were little ships everywhere. After the passengers had disembarked we went to Sir’s office to go ashore. He handed us our landing papers so that we could clear immigration formalities and solemnly handed us each $40. “I will be coming with you,” he said, “so stick with me.” Charlie and I have been to New York dozens of times over the years, but if your first visit there is at the age of 14 you’re never going to forget the buzz of the Big Apple for the first time. Sir had arranged a small bus to take us across town from the Pier on the West Side to 34th Street. We gawped at the canyons. Liverpool was big, but was nothing compared to New York. Charlie couldn’t believe his eyes – nothing he’d ever seen in his village could have prepared him for what he was seeing. Even the Londoners were impressed. In those days London had no skyscrapers of course, and anything talker than eight or ten storeys was unheard of. When our bus stopped at the Empire State Building we were speechless. If you’ve been to the 102nd Floor you’ll know what it’s like, but just close your eyes and pretend you’re a working bahçeşehir escort class boy of 14. This was a sensory overload quite different from the sensory overload of twelve hours earlier. We could see Queen Mary at the Pier, looming large over the other ships, but still awfully small from where we were, perched literally at the top of the world. It was heady stuff. When we got to the street again the bus took us to a place near the southern tip of New York. Sir explained that we were on an island called Manhattan, and told us a bit about the history. I don’t remember taking much of it in, but I do remember that the place he took us for lunch was where their first President, George Washington, had had a meeting of some kind. It was very historic, but to us lads it was just a place where we had a bloody good lunch. If this was American food I was all for it. The bus took us back to near the Pier. Sir told us that we were to meet at the ship’s gangway in three hours time. “Till then go and spend your dollars. But don’t go far. We’ll sail without you if you’re not back,”. I knew this was daft because we’d arrived so early that the passengers for the return crossing wouldn’t board until tomorrow. There were lots of little shops nearby, and we split up into twos to see what was what. Charlie and I went into a little shop which sold all kinds of stuff. “Look,” he said, “these are just what we need.” He was looking at a tray of rings. We’d both noticed that a lot of the Queen Mary crew wore rings, and neither of us had seen men wearing rings before. Our father wore a wedding ring, of course, but no-one I knew wore one if they weren’t married. We poked around the tray and a man came to see what we were up to. “We’re looking at these,” said Charlie, “how much are they?” They were $12 each, but the man would sell us two for $20. That seemed a fair bargain, so we hunted for the right thing. “We want ones with initials,” said Charlie. A different tray was produced with much nicer rings. The man said we could have two of these for $25. As they looked much nicer this was an even better bargain. What letters did we want? Charlie didn’t hesitate. “We each want the same – P and C joined together.” The man smiled. “Off the Queen are you?” I nodded. “You sailor boys, you’re all alike,” but he said it with a smile and a wink, so we smiled back. He rootled around and found two rings with our initials on. “Here you are,” he said, “try them for size. Your fingers will grow, boys, and you’ll end up with them on your little fingers.” I reached out and put one on Charlie’s finger, looking him in the eyes as I did so. He took one and put it on mine. There was no-one in the shop apart from us and the man, so I gently kissed Charlie on the lips. There were tears in his eyes. “Oh, Jesus!” said the man, “take the rings for nothing. It’s not every day I sell rings to a pair of dippy lovebirds. Go on, off and enjoy yourselves. There’s a nice quiet bar along the street which won’t mind serving a pair of lads. Have one on me!” We couldn’t believe it. We thanked him about a hundred times and floated back to the ship on a wave of euphoric joy. When the six of us met later that evening after we’d eaten we sat in Cabin 2 to exchange gossip about what we’d all got up to. As we were all naked as usual the main excitement was the tattoos which Alan and Andrew had had done. If we’d all landed in New York for a treat two weeks ago they wouldn’t have had tattoos, but now, after the development of the night before last, things were different. There, for all the world to see, were two identical tattoos on their left arms of an interlocked A and A. Teenagers may feel the full blast of emotion, but they’re not very imaginative, because when we showed our C and P rings Tim and Sam fell about laughing. “You two have rings with your initials and Alan and Andrew have tattoos with your initials.” “What’s so funny?” said Andrew. Without hesitation Tim and Sam got up and turned round. On Tim’s arse cheeks were Sa on one and m’s and on Sam’s were Ti and m’s. “Very original,” said Charlie, “and I bet it hurts like hell when you sit down.” Sam grinned. “Yeah, a bit, but it’s worth it. Just think what the clients will think.” =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 43 as time passes. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing a few months ago, and the boy I describe as “me” is really cute. I’m sure he had adventures … Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32