Date: Thu, 30 Nov 2000 10:58:51 -0800
From: Javu <john.venn@virgin.net>
Subject: Forest House - Part 2.

This story contains scenes of sex between a man and teenage boys, and
between teenage boys. If this is not to your taste, or is illegal where you
live, then read no further!!  The story is totally imaginative and bears no
relation to events, people or places in the real world!

 Health Warning: There are some dangerously long sentences in this story
which contain some philological elements of Anglo-Saxon origin: these may
lead to some vivid mental images, sexual arousal or erotic fantasies. If
this is what you want, then carry on reading: if not then stop reading now.

 Story Code: M/t, t/t (Mast, oral, anal)(Cons)
 Forest House - Part Two

 by

 Alexander


 Chapter Three

 It was just before seven when I drove into the staff car park, feeling
extremely nervous, afraid of what I was walking into. Locking the car door,
I mentally shrugged and prepared myself to accept what I found when I
walked into the house.

 The boys were still finishing their evening meal as I threw my overnight
bag into the staffroom and went to join them.  Glancing anxiously round, I
stared at each in turn, looking for some sort of clue as to what they were
thinking. Nothing. Even Mark seemed disinterested, seemingly more
interested in the television news than in my presence.

 Picking up the daybook, I skimmed through it, learning what the boys had
been doing all day. Nothing unusual as it turned out: a few games of
football, a silly fight between the brothers again and (thankfully) a
fairly quiet day.

 The boss and I went into the office as was our normal practice as the boys
finished their meal and did the clearing up.

 "I don't know what's happened," he said cheerfully, "But Mark seems a
different boy these days. He hasn't caused a scrap of bother today and even
stepped in when Peter and Steven (the half-brothers) were having a scrap."

 I searched for any hidden clues in what he was saying, but apparently
there weren't any and I listened as he carried on.

 "I don't know what we've done, or how we've done it, but whatever it is,
it's worked. Mark seems to have calmed down at last. Thank God!"

 That was typical of the boss. Never a 'Thank You' for what anyone else has
done, just a sort of unsaid 'Haven't I done well' sort of attitude. Neither
was he particularly observant about the boys' general day-to-day behaviour,
except when it suited him. OK, Mark had obviously had a good day, but it
was the first one, not a 'these days situation', just one day. But I wasn't
about to argue the point with him. I was relieved just to listen to him.

 "Anyway," he continued, "Because they've been OK, I've told them that they
can go to the cinema tonight if you want to take them."

 And that was it. I breathed a sigh of relief: at least the worry uppermost
in my mind had proved to be groundless. There remained only one more
problem: how to tell Mark that we couldn't and shouldn't do anything
again. That would need some serious thought.

 Trips to the cinema were a rare treat at Forest House. We had been asked
to leave the theatre several times in the past because of the boys
behaviour, and so visits were restricted to days when they had been
exceptionally good and we could be guaranteed reasonably acceptable
behaviour.

 A few minutes later, the boss had gone and I was left alone with the boys.
During the time the boss and I had been chatting, they had completed (more
or less) the after-dinner clearing up and had changed ready to go out.

 I sat them round the table and told them for the thousandth time the
aground rules we were going out under.  "Any messing about and we come
straight back," I said, "And the one that starts it can walk home!"

 I was listening to the babble of conversation as I drove the mini-bus into
town.  Mark had said almost nothing to me since I'd arrived, and had
thankfully decided that the talk I needed to have with him was probably now
unnecessary. The brothers were sat playing some card game or other on the
back seat, Mark was talking cricket with David and Geoff, and Nigel was sat
next to me in the front just watching the world go by.

 The usual procedure when going to the cinema was that I would give each of
them money for their ticket and sweets and so on, they would make their own
way into the theatre and sit where they liked. Experience had taught us
that this was much less likely to cause trouble as when we all sat together
in a single group. The way they split up was the same as at the home: David
and Geoff as one group, Peter and Steven together and the other two either
with me or sat fairly close by.

 This time was no different in that Nigel and Mark stayed with me as the
others disappeared into other parts of the auditorium. The only place that
had three seats together was on the back row and after buying our supply of
refreshments we settled down to watch the film.

 I am not at all interested in science fiction films, and the one they had
chosen to see tonight was particularly boring. Gratefully, I leaned back in
my seat and closed my eyes, thankful for the chance to have a rest.

 It must have been about twenty minutes later that I opened my eyes to
check what was happening.  It was a moment or two before I turned to look
at Nigel and Mark who were sat on my right-hand side.  To my complete and
utter astonishment, they both had their flies undone and their cocks out.
Each was slowly and as unobtrusively as possible masturbating the
other. Mark, who was sat next to me, jerked his head round sharply as I dug
him in the ribs.

 "Pack it up!" I mouthed urgently.

 Mark, without missing a stroke, grinned at me, placed his hitherto unused
spare hand in my groin and gave my balls a squeeze!  I was helpless to do
anything about it, and he knew it. Grabbing his wrist, I put his hand back
on his leg and stared sightlessly at the film. Just a few seconds later, it
was back and this time he slowly unfastened my zip and slid his hand
inside. Frantically I looked around and was more than relieved to find we
were still the only occupants of the row.

 Deciding that there was nothing I could do to stop what was happening
without causing a fuss, I slid down in the seat slightly and began to enjoy
Mark's attentions to my prick.

 They next thing I was aware of was that Mark had somehow attracted Nigel's
attention and leaning forward in his seat, he was watching entranced as
Mark fondled me. Giving me a huge wink and a 'thumbs up' sign, Nigel sat
back in his seat and carried on playing with Mark.

 The rest of the time in the cinema was spent with me in a daze. I was
petrified that someone would see us and the thought of being discovered was
almost unbearable. The only hope I had of getting away with it was by not
making a fuss.

 To my immense relief, the film ended and I hurriedly re-fastened my flies
as the lights came up. It was also with relief that I saw none of us had
actually orgasmed, and thus there were no tell-tale damp patches to give us
away.

 This wasn't the case with the brothers I noticed as they climbed back into
the bus for the return journey. Each had a very obvious wet patch in their
groin. At least Peter had the grace to blush a little as he noticed my
staring at it: Steven brazened it out and returned my stare unashamedly,
almost daring me to comment on it. To his astonishment I grinned, winked at
him and let it go at that.  I did notice however that every time I used the
interior mirror he was staring at me quizzically.

 "OK, lads," I said as we were approaching home, "I'll get us all some fish
and chips on the way home, provided that you all go to bed as soon as
you've eaten them."

 This was met with universal approval and promises that they would do as
they were told. 'That will be a first' I thought to myself, happy both for
them and myself that so far the evening had been a good one.

 Getting back to the house, I told the lads to go and get changed for bed
whilst I got the meal ready for them.  Within five minutes, they had all
washed or showered (so they said!) and were sat cross-legged on the floor,
deciding to eat their supper 'picnic style' rather than at the table.  The
atmosphere was made even more special when someone turned off the overhead
lights, leaving the room lit only by the dim wall lights and the
television.

 With only a few words being exchanged, the boys hungrily devoured their
late-night feast whilst the TV played quietly in the background. Idly, I
looked at each in turn, happy not only that they had been no bother
tonight, but also that they seemed for once amicable and friendly with each
other. I was in for a peaceful night I thought.

 Not wanting to disturb the tranquillity I watched and listened to their
banter as they wolfed down the food. I also noticed something
else. Although they were wearing pyjamas, none were wearing any
underwear. Mark in particular had sat opposite me and was seemingly making
every effort to make sure that I noticed. Nigel, sat next to him, was also
apparently trying his best to draw my attention to his groin. Peter and
Steven had sat either side of me, the earlier embarrassment having
seemingly been forgotten.

 Close to midnight, I decided that it was time they were all in bed. Making
only nominal 'I don't wanna go to bed yet' noises, they went off to their
rooms with sleep rapidly overtaking most of them.

 Half an hour later I'd cleared up the debris, thrown their dirty clothes
into the washing machine and was doing the first round of the night. Nigel,
Geoff and David were in bed and almost asleep.

 When I tapped on the brothers' room, there was only the lightest of pauses
before I heard a 'come in'.  They were both sat on Steven's bed reading a
book of some sort together, both naked, their discarded clothes littering
the floor. They also had erections I couldn't help but notice.  Deciding to
ignore the situation as far as possible, I simply asked them if they were
OK. Neither boy seemed embarrassed by my presence and just nodded in reply.

 I had almost turned round and about to walk out of the room when I was
stopped by Steven saying, "Would you mind if we slept together tonight?"

 I suppose that I shouldn't have been too surprised by this request. Steven
was always the most outgoing and less timid of the two and was not afraid
of saying just what he thought. Peter on the other hand gave his brother a
hard dig in the ribs as if to say 'what the hell do you think you are
doing?'

 It took only a moments thought before I answered.  "This is your room and
within reason I don't care what you do in it. But," I added carefully, "I
suggest that you at least make the other bed look as if it has been slept
in - for your benefit."

 Peter visibly relaxed and even managed a half-smile. "You don't mind then
?" he whispered.

 "No, not really. After all what could you possibly get up to, asleep
together? And you are brothers after all," I said, mischievously. "Just
don't tell the others or they will all want to join in."

 "Too late for that!" Steven said cheerfully, giving me one of his rare
grins.

 I looked closely at him, trying to work out what he meant exactly. Had
Mark said anything to him, or was it just Steven being Steven? Not having
either the courage or desire to question him further, I wished them
goodnight and closed the door behind me.

 Now it was Mark's turn. Somewhat apprehensively I knocked on his door,
hoping that by now he would be fast asleep.  No such luck.

 "Come in."

 He lay on the bed, pyjama jacket wide open, trousers pushed down to his
knees, and his left hand stroking his cock.

 "You OK, Mark?"

 "Yeah, thanks," he replied, not for an instant pausing in his motions.

 "Good. Goodnight then," I replied and made to leave.

 "Where you going?" he said quietly, "Aren't you gonna stay tonight?"

 "No. Not tonight. I don't think I should."

 His disappointment was obvious and I got that 'little boy lost' look
again. He even stopped masturbating to look at me.

 "Please?" he said, "I won't sleep otherwise."

 Pushing the door closed, I steeled myself for the now inevitable
conversation I had hoped wouldn't be necessary. I sat on his bedside chair.
"Listen, Mark. I don't think that we should ... should ... mess about
together again. I know you like it, but I don't think we should do it
together again."

 He lay silent for a while, staring at the ceiling.  "Why?"

 "Because it isn't right, either for you or me. We could both get into a
lot of serious trouble if we were found out."

 "But we won't be. I haven't told anybody and I won't. Please stay for a
bit. Please."

 I sighed, and knew I was lost again.  "OK then. Just five minutes, but I'm
not helping you!"

 This seemed to satisfy him and he returned to jerking himself off, eyes
closed and breathing heavily.

 "Give me your hand," he begged.

 I did as I was asked, watching him masturbate and painfully aware that SI
was now the owner of a very painful erection.  He seemed to be having some
difficulty in reaching a climax for some reason and after a few minutes he
gave up, opened his eyes and looked at me.

 "Thanks," he said seriously. "I'm OK now I think."

 Gratefully I stood up and smiled at him.  "That's OK, mate. Anytime, as
long as it doesn't go any further."

 "OK then.  G'night. See you later." And with that, turned his back on me
and settled down to sleep.

 Chapter Four

 I went back to my room with a strange mixture of emotions. On the one hand
I was pleased I'd managed to refrain from getting physically involved, but
on the other hand I also had an intense feeling of disappointment. Very
much to my surprise I found that I actually wanted to have Mark again and
regretted bitterly rejecting his advances quite so quickly.

 I stripped down to my shorts and lay on the bed, intent on relieving the
pressure my still painful erection was creating. And thinking of Mark.

 Lost in my own reverie, I was distantly aware of a tap on the
door. Cursing inwardly, I climbed off the bed, pulled my shorts up and
opened the door, carefully standing behind it so whoever was disturbing me
couldn't see the state I was in.

 Why wasn't I surprised to see Mark?  And pleased as well. Taking a quick
glance down the corridor to make sure no one was there, I pulled him into
my room and shut the door.

 We both knew that there was no going back from here. He knew I wanted him,
and I knew I wasn't about to refuse his advances.

 There was no need for words now. Taking our boxers off we lay on the bed
wrapped in each others arms, relaxing. 'Love' is far too strong a word to
describe what we felt for each other at that moment. 'Lust' seemed too
dirty and sordid. What we had was something in-between. I think that we
both needed each other for company and compassion and what we had done, and
what we were about to do, suited us both. No strings, no ties and above all
no emotional involvement: just two young men enjoying each other.

 I could taste the toothpaste as he forced his tongue into my mouth,
deliciously searching for mine. I hugged him tightly and breaking our kiss
for a moment, whispered "Better now?"

 He nodded in reply, once again a tear or two escaping down his
cheeks. Licking them off, I returned the kiss.

 We were aware of our cocks becoming erect between us, his pressed between
my thighs and mine laying along his stomach. Gently I slid my hand down and
took hold of his now iron-hard cock. Slowly I started to move my hand up
and down his shaft, concentrating on feeling every millimetre of his
wonderfully smooth skin. Mark, for his part had taken hold of mine as was
delightfully working his fingers around the cockhead, sending me into
realms of pleasure that I'd never even thought possible before.  This boy,
young as he was, was an expert at giving pleasure, a fact which both
delighted and saddened me.

 Craning my head back, I looked at Mark and said, "You're good at this,
aren't you?"

 "Mmmmm.  Plenty of practice." he replied without a trace of emotion.

 Shit!  Why did I have to spoil it by saying something stupid. In my
passion I'd completely forgotten about his background, and now I'd ruined
it.

 "Sorry. I didn't mean ........." I started to say.

 "Don't matter. This is different. I'm doing this because I want to and we
both like it," he whispered.  He gave my balls a squeeze and flashed me
that beautiful smile of his.

 Then he went silent and thoughtful on me, his eyes staring blankly into
space.

 "Can I ask you something?" he said eventually

 I nodded agreement.

 "Do you like me?"

 "Of course I do. Why do you ask?"  I was confused by his question; and
even more confused with his next statement. He even let go of my prick and
stared earnestly at me.

 "No. I mean REALLY like. Not just like the other boys, but really, really
like."

 I began to see where he was coming from.

 "If you mean more than the others, then yes, I do. You are special and SI
like you a lot. And it's not just because of this," I added squeezing his
cock slightly, "But don't for God's sake tell them, will you?"

 "I know that already. Remember it was me who started this off, not
you. You didn't want to at first, but I made you, didn't I?"

 I agreed with him and letting go of his cock, I pulled the bed cover over
us, settled him comfortably in my arms and asked. "Want to talk?"

 He went on to tell me that he had never had a real friend before, not even
his mother. He'd been left to fend for himself most of his life and most of
the men friends his mother had known had either totally ignored him or
actually abused him, both physically and sexually. The one or two who I
liked didn't stay long, he sighed, they got pissed off with my mother and
cleared off.  Even the other kids at school made fun of him because of his
home and the reputation his family had for causing trouble.

 All this was said without any outward sign of emotion, but knowing him as
well as I did, this was by no means an indication as to how he felt inside.
He must be completely messed up I thought to myself, trying desperately to
work out what to say next.

 "Listen Mark, I like you a lot, and I mean that. What we've done together
I like as well, but that isn't everything. I would still like you even if
we didn't do it, and I hope we will still be good friends even if we
stopped."  The atmosphere between us was getting much too serious and tense
for my liking and I wanted to lighten it. What I'd just been told must have
been very difficult for him and I think he'd had enough - at least for the
time being.

 "But I don't want to stop - ever!!!" I laughed, kissing him to emphasise
my point.

 "Bollocks!" he grinned, the tension visibly ebbing from him, "I won't let
you stop anyway!"

 For the next age we kissed, cuddled and in general simply took immense
pleasure in each other. He wasn't the only one who had been starved of
emotion. For ages we just held each other, letting our hands wander where
they wanted, concentrating not only on giving as much pleasure to each
other as we could, but also finding out what each of us liked. Mark was a
very tactile person I soon discovered and he founds parts of my body which
even I didn't know could give such delight simply by being tenderly
stimulated.  I also learned that Mark had never actually spent the night
with anyone before: all the exploits and abuse he'd experienced in the past
had been of the "wham - am - thank you" sort. He hadn't ever been taken
seriously as a person even, just a sort of sex-object or toy, to be used
and discarded for the most part. Chatting away in a low whisper as we were,
settled comfortably in my warm bed, we soon drifted off into a light sleep,
arms enfolding each other and perfectly content.

 It was after three when I next looked at the clock and I reluctantly
reminded Mark that he ought really to be in his own bed, and that it was
also time I did my rounds.  Giving me one last hug and kiss, he picked up
his shorts, and holding them in his hands, returned to his room, his
magnificent set of balls swinging erotically in front of him as he skipped
off.

 Somewhat reluctantly I washed and dressed as I thought about doing my
final round of the night. Deciding that it wasn't worth dressing fully, I
simply pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, deciding to dispense with
any underwear. I didn't even bother with shoes, just a pair of very old and
tired slippers.

 Thankfully, and not to my surprise, all the rooms were in darkness, even
Mark's. All except one that is.  Nigel had again fallen asleep with the
light on. Without a second thought I opened it, not bothering to knock. I
was in for another shock however: he was laid on his back, eyes closed and
masturbating! Fascinated, I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move,
watching as he slowly pleasured himself, oblivious to the world around him.

 I should, of course, have quietly closed the door and left him to his own
delights, but things had changed for me over the past few days and I was
now more than a little interested in the 'private' lives of my
charges. Nigel was, I realised for the first time, not an unattractive
boy. Much better looking that Mark in fact, but not as available. Or was
he?

 Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, my eyes fixed on the
slowly oscillating hand. He started to wank himself faster as I watched:
obviously approaching his climax.  I coughed gently.

 Nigel looked as if he'd been shot. His eyes opened wide in terror as he
turned to see me staring at him, mouth hanging wide open.

 We were both acutely embarrassed. I, because I suddenly regretted what I
was doing, and him of course at being discovered.

 "Ssssorry!", I managed to stumble out, "I thought you were asleep and
..... " My voice trailed off as I hadn't a clue what to say next.

 Nigel went red in the face, his cock not unsurprisingly, now limp and
flaccid, hurriedly he put his hands over it to hide it from view.

 Then his face changed and it slowly broke into a faint smile.

 "That's OK," he mouthed, just loud enough for me to hear, "It's not the
first time you've see it, is it?"

 I let out a sigh of relief as I relaxed a little.

 I shook my head. "I think we ought to get locks put on these doors, don't
you?" I joked. None of the rooms had locks of course, for fairly obvious
reasons.

 Nigel said nothing, but from the expression on his face I could tell that
he wanted to say something.

 "Everything OK then?" I asked, "I'll leave you in peace if you like. Sorry
about ......."

 I stood and put my hand on the door knob as if to leave, but changed my
mind.

 "Listen," I started, "About the cinema. You saw what Mark was doing to me,
didn't you?"

 He nodded.

 "Well, I would be grateful if you didn't tell anyone about it,
Nigel. After all it wasn't such a big deal was it?" I knew full well that
he wouldn't of course as he was also a 'partner-in-crime' so to speak, but
I just wanted to talk to him, and possibly ..... I pushed the thought to
the back of my mind.

 There it was again: that sly, beautiful smile. Entrancing. Erotic even.

 He moved his hands away from his groin and turned on his side to face
me. His cock, I couldn't help but notice was starting to harden again.

 "No, of course not. Mark told me that you and him have .... have
.... messed about together, and I promised him that I wouldn't tell
anyone."

 Shit! I never thought that this would happen. It was almost like a
nightmare come true. If Nigel knew, then who else? Now I was in deep
trouble.

 My worry must have shown on my face because Nigel then said that I needn't
be concerned as he would keep our secret: "After all, you haven't told
anyone about what me and him do have you?"

 I had to agree with him on this point and I began to feel better.

 The cock I was staring at was now fully erect and I was unable to stop
myself from staring at it. It didn't help either when he started to stroke
it again, obviously for my benefit. My own tool instantly rose up in
sympathy and tented out my shorts, giving Nigel a full view of my
predicament.

 The little bastard just lay there grinning, playing with himself even more
erotically. I stood, mesmerised.

 "Come over here if you want," he whispered a little nervously.

 I did as I was asked, unable to stop myself even if I wanted to.

 Sitting on the side of his bed, I continued staring.

 "Can I see yours? It's only fair."

 I was trapped, and he knew it. But I was past caring now and in fact
wanted nothing more that to take hold of that magnificent cock and wank him
off.

 I stood to take off my shorts.

 "Put a chair under the door knob, just in case. That's what Mark and I
do."

 The import of this didn't fail to hit me, but I said nothing. Instead I
jammed the chair against the door and slid my shorts off.

 "Very nice!" he said, "Now I see what Mark was on about!"

 I lay on the bed alongside Nigel and took his prick in my hand. He did the
same to me and we made ourselves comfortable.

 The bedside light was turned off. "That's better," Nigel sighed, and
snuggled up close to me, slowly starting to jerk me off.

 Now completely relaxed, a sudden thought hit me - what did Nigel mean, ..'
Now I see what Mark was on about' ... ?

 I turned over slightly to look at my bed-mate.  "What did you mean about
Mark?" I asked as gently as possible.

 I felt Nigel tense up slightly under my arm.  "Nothing, really," he
stammered rather uncomfortably, "Forget I said it."

 That didn't help: in fact I felt even more confused.  "Go on," I said, "I
don't mind. Honestly."

 Nigel explained, albeit reluctantly at first, that he and Mark were
'messing about' the other day when in his excitement and passion he shouted
out my name. Nigel grinned broadly at me as he said this, and gave my balls
a playful squeeze.

 "I see," I answered, my mind still confused. "What were you doing?"

 "I was fucking him," he said, without a trace of embarrassment, "He likes
that. Anyway, I asked him what you and him had been doing and he told me
everything - at least I think he did!"

 That grin again.

 He continued. "But you ain't fucked him though, have you?" I had the
impression that he asked this to confirm that Mark hold told him the truth
as much as anything else.

 I confirmed that we hadn't done anything very much, apart from sucking
each other off.

 "You know he wants to, don't you?"

 This surprised me: I hadn't given it any thought whatsoever until this
moment. And I didn't object to the idea, but thought that I would rather
have it done by Nigel.

 At the back of my mind, I also stored the fact that Mark and Nigel had
actually screwed each other: something which Mark hadn't told me.

 "No, I didn't know that." With some little difficulty I picked up the
conversation, trying to work out what it was like being fucked.

 "Yeah. He told me today."

 I felt Nigel's cock give a little jerk under my hand as he said this:
obviously he was thinking the same thoughts I was.

 "Ever been fucked?" he continued.

 The bluntness and apparent nonchalance with which he asked me this made
the absurdity of the situation suddenly strike me. I had been seduced twice
within a couple of days by young teenagers, and was happy to have been
so. And now I was also being asked if I had ever been fucked! Forty-eight
hours ago, there was no way I could have imagined that I would be having
this sort of conversation with anyone, let alone one of the boys in the
home!

 "No." I answered simply.

 "It's OK. I like it. It's brilliant - honest!"

 I hadn't a clue what to say to this, and so said nothing. There was
silence for a few moments.

 "Wanna try it now?" he whispered, letting go of my cock as he did so and
staring earnestly at me.

 "I don't know," I answered thoughtfully. I turned the idea over in my
mind. It would hurt, of course. That much I knew, or at least could
guess. But then Nigel and Mark had done it, as well as thousands, probably
millions, of others over the years, so there must be something good about
it. And also, I thought, perhaps I might even like it.

 "You know it's half past three in the morning, and you should be asleep,"
I said, stalling for time as I struggled to make my mind up.

 "So? "At least it's better that half past three in the afternoon ain't
it?" he laughed, "Unless you want an audience!"

 I grinned back at him. "OK then. What do you want me to do?"

 "Great!" he said gleefully as he jumped from the bed and opened his
bedside locker. From it he took a large jar of Vaseline, which I noted with
interest, was only half full. Taking a liberal scoop he smeared it all over
his now rock-hard prick as he sat next to me on the bed.

 "Here, you'd better have some too," and handed me the jar.

 Stupidly, I stared at it, not fully comprehending for a moment what I was
supposed to do with it. Nervously I took a glob and spread it in and around
the area which was about to be assaulted.

 "Lay on your back and put your legs on my shoulders," he commanded, "And
put a pillow under your arse. As I was doing this he positioned himself
between my legs, and taking his magnificent erection in his hands, slowly
massaged it in readiness.

 I felt the tip of his cock press against my hole. Slowly the pressure
increased, fighting my sphincter muscle as it objected to the new and
rather painful sensation.

 We both stared, fascinated, at his tool as he pushed harder.  I tried to
ignore the sharp pain and relax as he increased the pressure. I felt a
sudden, very intense pain for an instant and then he was in. The pain was
gone almost before I realised it was there, to be replaced by a wonderful
sort of glow as I felt his cockhead just inside me. Nigel looked blissfully
happy as he slid his entire six inches into me. He stopped and rested.

 "OK?" he asked.

 I nodded, still amazed at the most superb sensations I was feeling from
deep, deep inside me.

 Slowly he pulled back until I could once again feel the head of his cock
against my muscle. Then he started. First pushing himself down and then
back again. I swear I could feel every fibre of his prick as he did
so. Warm, smooth and beautiful. Nothing I had ever read, or thought about,
could have prepared me for what I felt now. I had never felt so wonderful:
I moaned in happiness. Nigel, now getting a smooth rhythm going was
grunting with delight. Matching him stroke for stroke I willed him to go
deeper and deeper into me, gripping him round the waist and forcing him
down on me. His prick seemed to get even harder as he speeded up, rapidly
approaching his climax.  My own prick was by now very painfully hard, and
taking a hand from Nigel's waist, I started to jerk myself off.

 With a final groan and shout, Nigel came. He forced himself hard into me
and shot his load. I felt every drop as it ejaculated into me, Nigel for
his part, making sure that he expended every last drip inside me.
Simultaneously I also ejaculated: and came with more force and pressure
than ever before. I'm not sure, but I think I also shouted out with the
supreme passion of the moment.

 Nigel slowed and stopped, leaving his now softening prick still inside me,
beads of sweat dampening his forehead.  He collapsed forward, laying full
length on top me . Automatically I put my arms round him and hugged him
tightly.

 In return he kissed me, hard and full on the lips.

 "That was the best ever!" he sighed, "The fucking best!"

 I was in no position to argue: I was still on another planet. Not daring
to speak, even if I was able, I returned the kiss, my tongue desperately
searching out his.

 Turning over onto our sides. he pulled his now limp cock out of me and
snuggled up close to me.

 "See?" he grinned, "Said it would be OK, didn't I?"

 "Amazing. Fucking brilliant." I whispered with an effort.

 Then we kissed again, this time slowly, tenderly and
passionately. Forgetting all about the time, the place and the whole world
in general we caressed and fondled each other as if we were the only two
beings in the universe.

 Gradually, very gradually, we came down from our high. I lay back, all
passion and energy spent.

 "I'm fucked!" I said, completely unaware of the pun.

 "And how!" Nigel laughed back as me, making me realise just what I'd said.

 Giggling like little school girls, we embraced and kissed again.

 "Christ. The time!" I almost shouted.  It was almost five o'clock.  I
leapt from the bed in terror and searched for my clothes.

 Hurriedly I dressed, hoping that none of the others would be awake yet: I
knew that some of them were very early risers and could often be found
making journeys to the toilet at this time in the morning.

 Nigel, the little bastard, had another bloody erection! He was playing
with it as I dressed. "OK, then," he smiled, " 'Spose you'd better go
then. Unless ........ ?"  He took hold of his cock and shook it at me,
invitingly.

 "Piss off," I answered, managing half a grin.

 "OK then. But I'm saving it for you though," and with that rolled off the
bed onto his feet and went to the door. As quietly as he could he took the
chair from under the doorknob and replaced it against the wall. Opening the
door for me, he gave a playful bow as he waved me through it, but not
without giving me a last kiss however.

 "See you later," he whispered as he closed the door.

End of Part Two