Date: Thu, 12 Jan 2012 20:08:27 +0000 From: Theo Smit <theosmitt123@gmail.com> Subject: English Boys - Part Four Warning - The following fictional story contains descriptions of sexual relations between consenting minors and an adult. If this offends you, or viewing it is illegal in your domain, please do not read further. Disclaimer - The following story is fictional. Any resemblance to persons either living or dead is coincidental. All comments or thoughts about the storyline appreciated - theosmitt123@gmail.com All of the reminiscing, about my raunchy evening with Brandon, and thinking about my upcoming assignations with Adam and Stuart, later on today, were not helping to get rid of my morning hard on. I decided not to have a nice slow wank, whilst thinking about Brandon's athletic performance the night before, but it was was a tough decision. Managing to resist the temptation I kicked the bed covers back, as a first step towards movement to the bathroom, but did not get any further. Tangled in the duvet cover, at the bottom of the bed, were Brandon's briefs. The briefs that he had worn all day to school yesterday, the ones that he had accidentally cum in when he was giving me a sensational blow job in my car last night, the same briefs that I had ripped off his hot and eager body the night before, when we had stripped each other naked in my bed. I had forgotten that after our lovemaking he had showered and I had suggested he pop on a pair of his clean undies, from my bedroom drawer, a pair that I had laundered after a previous visit. Oh fuck. All attempts to resist a wank quickly passed as I gathered up his pants. I flopped back onto the bed, cock in one hand and Brandon's dirty undies in the other, pressing the soft white cotton to my face I was met with the intensely intoxicating aroma of a truly wonderful 13 year old. Oh, am I in paradise? Moments later, the shrill ring of my mobile broke my concentration. Shit! I fumbled round my bedside table and managed to grunt hello. "Its me, wat yer doing?". Brandon still had a distinct, half broken, sing song girlish voice, combined with a rough local council estate accent that was easy to recognise. I cleared my throat and sat up. "I thought you were at school?" "I am, its break time. You asleep you lazy fucker?" he giggled. "Well, kind of - more like day dreaming really" I replied. I was not sure that it was worth explaining that I had just wrapped his underwear round my cock and was about to offload into them! "Are you sure no one can hear you Brandon? Whats up" I said. "Nuffings up, just missing you I guess" he said, quietly. "Did you want to meet later?" I asked. I was unsure how the hell I would sandwich a meeting with Brandon between my meetings with Adam and Stuart. The thought immediately conjured up an image of Brandon sandwiched between Adam and Stuart, all of them naked. I quickly shook the thought from my head and concentrated. "I would love to, but I gotta bail out man. Me Mam is taking me to buy new school trousers. I ripped the knee out in these. She'll kill me if I don't show up afta school. Can we go out tomorrow?". "No way Squirt, you have got school" I reminded him. "Fuck, wake up man! What planet you on? Tomorrow's Saturday" he laughed. Blimey, this leisurely retired life, spent getting the pants off young boys, was really getting to me - I did not even know what day it was! I loved Brandon's banter with me, he had become more confident and friendly since we first met. His cheekiness was well intentioned and playful. Him telling me that he was missing me was the first sign that maybe he was starting to actually feel loved. The thought of spending a day with him really lifted my spirits. "Sorry Squirt, I got my days mixed up. It would be great to spend the day together, what do you fancy doing?" "I dunno .........cinema or maybe swimming then McDonalds?" he said hopefully. "Lets do all three then" I said, equally hopefully. "Awesome, that is so fucking cool, but I ain't got swimmies, you got any I can borrow?". "None that will fit your skinny butt" I laughed. "But I will buy you some". I pictured an image of every pedo at the swimming pool, staring at Brandons wet speedo clad butt. "Oh, I nearly forgot...........whats rimming?" he mumbled. I paused, only slightly shocked, then recovered and in my best teasing voice said "Shit Brandon, that's quite a big change in subject........ you want me to tell you, or show you, what rimming is?". "Quit teasing. Have we done it before?" he asked. "Surprisingly and unfortunately, no, we haven't..... not yet. It must be one of very few things we have not tried. Where on earth did you hear that word?". I heard his school bell ring in the background. "I gotta go, bell just went" he said, and then quickly added "One of the Southland Estate gang was calling me mate a rimmer - so I got into a scrap with them - it is bad, isn't it? I am seriously fucked if he was paying him a fucking compliment. I got a detention for it". I erupted in laughter. "Him calling your mate a rimmer could be deemed an insult - unless your mate likes to have his tongue up another boys cute little asshole" I said. Brandon's voice suddenly became very animated. "Fucking Ace, I thought that's what rimming meant..........can we do that tomorrow too? Catch yer later!". The phone went dead. Less than a minute later I blew a huge load of cum into Brandon's underwear. ----------------x-------------------- I got up and showered. I had a few hours to kill before Adam would finish School and arrive at my house. I settled at my computer and caught up on some research. I needed to work out my treatment plan for Stuart. Now, dear reader, you may be disappointed to discover that I am not a medical Doctor. If you were looking forward to me asking boys to bend over for examination or to produce a sample for me then you will be disappointed. My life has been spent in the field of psychology and I ended up becoming a leading psychotherapists. Which goes a little way to explaining my involvement with Brook Hill School and my pending meeting with Stuart. Brook Hill School is an independent private preparatory boarding school, for 8 to 18 year old boys and it charges some of the highest fees in the Country. A few weeks after retiring I had met one of the School Governors at a Rotary Club dinner. It transpired that, for many years, he had closely followed my well published research and was a bit of a fan. He was also keen to get me involved at the school. "But I'm retired, and anyway, I am not entirely clear what you want me to do?" I had told him. "Well, you wont really need to do much, but having such a distinguished Doctor on our support staff will really impress prospective parents. It helps us to command bigger fees dear chap. We would pay you a handsome monthly retainer, say 2k, then whatever fee you like for the odd therapy session". He was stuffing roast beef down his throat at an obscene rate and I was beginning to wish I had not sat next to him. "I'm really not sure". Even the fee was not attracting me to having anything to do with this glutton. "As you know, my experience is with adults, not children. I am hardly qualified to be a therapist for boys" I had argued. "But boys need psychological support too, especially boarding school boys, just simple stuff - you know, homesickness, exam stress, peer pressure, bed wetting - all sorts of issues really" he spluttered. He stuffed more roast beef into his mouth and was starting to make me feel sick. He sat back and belched. Then leaned towards me with a conspiratorial look on his face, looking around to check nobody was listening. "Look Dr Beck, let me be honest with you, we have a rather sensitive problem at the school, a rather delicate matter. There was an incident last week, it threatens the reputation of the school, the headmaster is not sure what to do and we need some help, please" he pleaded. "What sort of incident?" I said curiously. "A young boy.......he......well......lets just say he was caught in a rather compromising situation.............it was in the gymnasium showers, with a much younger boy". My mind gaydar kicked in like a claxon and I started to pay full attention. He continued "Now, in our days that sort of stuff happened all the time but we are in modern times now. If the newspapers get a whiff of a scandal like this it could ruin the school. The headmaster wanted to expel the lad but there is a problem. The boys father is rather influential, and is one of the schools main sponsors. You may know him, Sir Alexander Bart". "The Chairman of the Tiara Group! And how old is the boy?" I had asked. "Oh, Stuart would be about 12 I guess". "It would be a pleasure to help - I accept the job" I said, maybe a little to quickly given the look of surprise on the gluttons face. And that Dear Reader is how I first got involved with Stuart. As I sat back at my desk, hitting the save button for Stuart's treatment plan, I heard the front door open. I glanced at my watch and wondered how I had lost track of the time. I smiled and relaxed as I heard Adam kicking off his shoes in the hall and thunder up the stairs moving from room to room. He burst into my study like a whirlwind and launched himself onto my knee, planting a big kiss on my lips. "Hey Spooner, how was school?" I said, gathering him into a hug. He unbuckled his belt with eager fumbling hands and said "Massive, but I couldn't wait to see you". He undid the button on his school trousers and unzipped his fly in one quick move, revealing a pair of light blue spider-man briefs, under which was a small but very obvious erection. His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Can we play?" he said, his hand disappearing into his pants. End of part 4 All comments or thoughts about the storyline appreciated - theosmitt123@gmail.com