Date: Sun, 9 Apr 2017 12:03:06 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com> Subject: Fourteen again Chapter 19 Fourteen again by badboi666 =============================================================================== This story is - guess what! - fantasy. 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 a 14-year-old then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Remember the three things: 1 Cum 2 Wipe 3 Donate =============================================================================== Chapter 19 When we got up the next morning we sat down to work out how we would go about the business of finding another boy. After some discussion, largely led by me, we agreed on a plan, and prepared the studio by putting a sheet on the floor. Tom would drive us both into Exeter. We would go into the station, but not together, and hang about at the train-spotting area. As before, Tom would stay some distance away and take photos of trains as they came through. I would join whatever group there happened to be. I would stand beside a boy who seemed a possibility and if Tom agreed that I should approach him he would hold his camera above his head. It seemed fool proof. How many boys did Tom want? He seemed taken aback that I was suggesting more than one, and we quickly decided that one would do nicely. We drove into Exeter, and I reminded myself of the description Tom had given yesterday - "What I really like is a small, neat boy with a sense of mischief, although that's not always easy to discover. Age 12 or more, but not over 15." That seemed clear enough. I would add my own preferences when I saw what was available. We reached the station at about half past ten. I walked to the platform end where I joined a collection of 14 others - the same man with his two boys, another man seemingly on his own (was he a rival, I wondered), a group of 4 boys together, and 6 boys who didn't appear to be with anyone else. These would be the place to look. Six boys to choose from. Their ages were about 9 to 15, and ruling out Tom's wish to have nobody under 12 I was left with four. One was fat, and I ruled him out. He might have been just as keen on sex as one of the others, but I would never find out. Life isn't fair to fatties. Three left: A, B and C. I judged A to be about 13, B also 13 and C probably 15. He was taller than the other two, but otherwise there was little to distinguish them. All were skinny, all were wearing t-shirts, A and B were wearing shorts while C, flaunting his relative grown-up-ness, was in tight jeans. All had the haircut of the time - short back and sides. I wondered how to approach my problem. I obviously had to get the boy I chose far enough away from the rest of the group that if he was repulsed by my offer he wouldn't be likely to spoil my chances with one of the others. I decided to let chance dictate which one was chosen. An engine came in and, for the first time, I noticed that B had a camera. He pointed it at the engine (34033) and took a picture. The train was stopping, so I said to him, "Come on, you'll get a better picture at the other end when it stops." He grinned and said, " Yeah, good idea." It was easy to jog along the platform with him, passing as we did a man with his camera held high above his head. When we reached the engine and B had taken a few pictures I turned to him and smiling, faced him. "These are the numbers I've seen today," and showed him my notebook. His eyes started and he backed off. "You're disgusting," he said, "that's filthy talk." I was glad he hadn't said he would tell his Dad. He did, however, beat a hasty retreat and I was relieved to see that he left the station, believing it no doubt to be possessed by the spawn of Satan. I walked back past the man with the camera, shaking my head as I did so. By the time I got there A had attached himself to the group of 4 boys, leaving C as the only target. I wondered how to tackle him. In the end it was simplicity itself. He wandered along the platform to the Gents, so I followed him in. In those happy days, as I have said before, it cost a penny to shit, but you could piss for nothing (unless you were a girl, that is). At 11 in the morning the Gents was deserted - so when I went in to piss and stood right next to C he must have guessed that I had something on my mind beyond pissing. If he stayed put I was OK; if he inched away I was onto a loser. The trough was the kind where there was a porcelain divider between each pissing place, and when I pulled out my cock to piss he couldn't see mine and I couldn't see his. I moved a couple of inches back so that he could see mine if he wanted to. He moved a couple of inches back, and that was that. Without a word being said I felt pretty sure I'd landed him. I looked over and said, "That's a nice one!" He grinned. "Yours is nice too." I shook off the drips and turned to him while he was still pissing. "Here's the numbers I've copped today." He glanced quickly, then did a classic double take. "You serious?" "You bet. I want to get my lips round that thing." "Here?" "No. Let's go back outside and I'll tell you." "OK." He sounded excited - unsurprising really as getting your cock sucked when you're 15 is generally something boys only dream about, and here it was being offered on a plate. "My name's Peter - what's yours?" "Jim." We walked back along the platform past the man, still holding his camera over his head. Good, I thought. Before we got back to the group I said quietly, "What you read in my numbers book is true - I do like sucking cock, and I'd like to suck yours" (Jim nodded) "but there's more to it." I explained about Tom, about his having a car and a house nearby, about his photography, and about the plans we had for several hours of fun. Was he up for joining us? I could tell his cock was keen, so I glanced quickly around - no-one was nearby - and gave him a quick grope. It was hard. "Come on," I said, "it's safe - I spent last night with him and it was great. You'll enjoy it, I promise." In the end Jim didn't need much persuasion. "OK, it'll be fun. I've got to be home by 5 o'clock though." "Tom'll drive you to near where you live, so that isn't a worry," I reassured him. We turned round and walked back towards the exit. As we passed the man with the camera he fell in beside us. "Tom, this is Jim," I said. "Hello, Jim," said Tom, holding out his hand, "I think we're going to have a good time together." Jim was understandably nervous. "What is all this about?" he asked me. "Wait till we're in Tom's car," I said, "then we'll tell you all about it." We sat in the car park while Tom and I explained what we hoped would happen. I said that I'd met Tom yesterday for sex and that we'd had a great time in his house. Tom said that he was a photographer and that he took pictures of boys, and that he'd like to take pictures of Jim and me. Jim wasn't sure about having his picture taken, but Tom assured him that no-one would ever see them in a magazine or anywhere. I'm not sure that he was convinced, but he shrugged. He asked how much he would be paid. Before Tom could reply, and possibly blow the whole affair out of the water, I said quickly "Ten pounds." I still had almost all the money I started with, and £10 was a week's wages for a man in those days - a bigger sum than Jim had likely ever seen. "Gosh," he said, "that's fine!" Tom gave me a strange look, but didn't say anything. "What do you want to do?" asked Jim. "Well," said Tom, "I want to take pictures of you and Peter doing all kinds of sexy and kinky things. You've seen that Peter boasts that he like to suck cocks - he sucked me and I can tell you he's bloody good at it. Have you had your cock sucked before?" "No." "Well, you're in for a treat." Quietly Jim said to me that he'd never done anything with another boy before except wank together - no-one had touched his cock even. This boy's eyes were about to be opened, I thought to myself. I hope we don't scare him off. I reassured him that he wouldn't get hurt, and that no-one would force him to do anything against his will. Despite Tom's rape scene yesterday I felt confident that he would take things gently with someone who was clearly a virgin, albeit willing to change that. We arrived at Tom's house and he drove round to the back. He opened the back door and we scooted in. No point in alerting the shit-deliverers. Tom took us into the kitchen and gave us biscuits and lots of squash. "This is what I want you to do," he said. "I'm going to be behind the camera taking pictures. Pay no attention to me unless I ask you to move, or look at me, or something. Jim, Peter will be in charge of what you and he do. Go along with what he says at first. Once you've got used to what's happening you can take a lead if you want to. You'll both be naked, of course, and I promise you there is nothing - absolutely nothing - that you could think of doing to Peter that he won't thoroughly enjoy. Jim, Peter is the sexiest boy in England, and you are about the luckiest. OK? Any questions?" I kept quiet, hoping to hear something from Jim. "Look, I'll be honest with you both. I don't know whether I'm really queer or not. I told Peter all I'd done with another boy was both wank together, but I always did myself. I'm not sure why. I know that when I wank in bed I think of boys at school, and I know that I try to see their bits in the changing room. I've never had an interest in girls, and when other boys talk of getting a feel of some girl's tits at the pictures I don't feel excited. I join in, of course, in the dirty talk, but I think most of the dirty talk is just made-up boasting. The idea of having my cock sucked is exciting and I want Peter to do it to me. I like the idea of sexy things in the way you've described, but I don't know whether I'll be able to do things. Does any of that make sense?" I waited for Tom to reply. What a grown-up said would carry greater weight with a nervous, but honest, Jim than anything I could say. (When it came to doing, rather than saying, it would probably be the other way round.) Tom thought a moment. "Jim, you've been honest about something that's probably been hard for you to say, and I'm proud of you for that. No boy really knows for sure at 15 whether he's queer or not, and a lot of boys who think about other boys, and look at their cocks, go through a stage of doing queer things and then something happens and they fancy girls instead." I was glad he didn't say that some boys 'grow out of it'. I knew perfectly well at 14 for the first time exactly how my sexuality was directed. "Let's take things slowly and see how they develop. I think I should keep out of any action until you feel relaxed about having a man playing with you, rather than another boy." Jim nodded, and I, of course, was delighted. "OK, then, let's get started." Tom led us into the studio and Jim was amazed at the way it was set up. Tom went behind the camera and switched the lights on. These brilliantly lit the performing area (for want of a better description) much more than I had seen yesterday. I asked Jim why. "I'm using colour today, and it needs a brighter light." I think the real reason was that with such powerful lights on us, Jim wouldn't be able to see Tom, and might forget about his presence once he got excited. My job was to get him there and keep him there. "Come on, Jim," I said, let's get out of our clothes. I moved to him and knelt down. "Trust me," I said quietly, "you will love this. I won't hurt you." And I reached forward to his fly buttons. As I opened the top two I could feel his cock, half-hard. I reached in an cupped it in my hand, three-quarters hard. I opened the rest of his flies and he shook his trousers to his ankles and, steadying himself with his hands on my head (I always like that) he stepped out of them. Only his y-fronts now hid his stuff, and very jutting it now was. "I like your cock," I murmured, "it's good and big." I stroked it through his pants and put my right hand into the left leg hole, fondling his balls. "Ooooh!" "Like that?" "Yeah!" This was going to be easier than I had thought. "Good, 'cos it gets a lot better. Let's get your pants off." No sooner said than done, and I was rewarded with the sight of a fine stiff 6-incher. Cut, small patch of pubes, low-hanging hairless balls. If his balls were hairless then it was likely his arse crack would be as well. While I was admiring what hung (and jutted) before me Jim had taken off his t-shirt. I looked up. Nice inny navel with the beginning of a treasure trail, flat stomach with no trace of puppy fat, nice chest, small nipples, big grin, dancing eyes. Time for business. I placed my hands on his hips, bent forward, and opened my mouth. =============================================================================== <End of Chapter 19> There we must leave it for a few days, alas. I have a three-day trip away from PC again, so I won't be writing any more until Thursday or Friday. But I'm sure you can think of things that I will be doing with Jim while you're waiting. No sex in Chapter 19, but there will be plenty hereafter. badboii666 "at" btinternet "dot" com is where the depraved suggestions of readers will be gladly received, and maybe even incorporated. Make sure you drop something Nifty's way at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html