Date: Sun, 7 May 2006 10:49:16 -0700 From: Bert <dutchb14@icqmail.com> Subject: Hillhurst Prep School part 10b Disclaimer. Of course the usual disclaimer is needed. This novel is a work of fiction. School, boys and adults only exist in the mind of the author. Sometimes sex, sexual acts and so on will be there. If it is against the law of your country or it will shock your parents don't read it. If you have an open mind and some knowledge about life, have fun! Of course the story is under copyright 2006. For them who like to email me the address has changed into: blueshorts@hushmail.com Hillhurst Prepschool, part 10a. To soon my free time slides to an end. After what seems to be only 15 minutes or so I hear my boys running back from classes to the living room for tea and biscuits. After a face wash I walk over to our living room as well and have tea with the boys. I explain to Sean and Andrew I have to go for a while and ask them to guide the group by decorating the living room for Christmas time. "OK sir, no problem", they say almost simultaneously. Again I get proof for the idea that simple trusting these youngsters is enough to receive trust and good behaviour in return. How do I love my little men, all ten of them. "OK, see you later guys" I say when I leave the living room. Arriving in the nursery I see that Jonathan, the supervisor of the small boys group, is already there. The moment Ian sees me he runs in my direction and jumps. It's hardly possible to catch him in time but I succeed. The small guy kisses the tip of my nose and we all laugh out loud. All three of us walk over to the doctor's office and sit down together. Ian prefers to sit on my lap. I tell Jonathan what has happened the afternoon and his face changes to a very sad expression first and to anger later. "I can't understand", he says, "He was supposed to be in class. Why his teacher hasn't informed me immediately he wasn't there?" "I don't know either", I have to admit, "You talk to that teacher and inform me later please". "I will", he says, "You can be damn sure I will". I put my hand under the chin of little Ian. "Now how are you kiddo?" I ask. "Are you well enough now to go back to your friends in the group?" "Yes sir", he replies, "Can I see you again sir?" I kiss his forehead. "Of course you can peanut! Just ask your supervisor to give me a call and I'll come over to collect you. OK?" He gives me his sweetest smile and my heart melts again to let him in for ever. Together we walk over to the living room of Jonathans' group. The nurse is looking after them. All kids are making a drawing about Christmas. I ask the nurse to stay for a few minutes longer and take Jonathan outside for a private talk. "I have to tell you", I start our conversation, "this wasn't the first time Ian was abused. I inspected his anus this afternoon and you can be sure it happened at least one time before and in a very aggressive way also". Jonathan doesn't look surprised at all. "Yes Colin", he says, "I noticed that myself before when inspecting him after his shower. I tried to talk with him about it but he refused to tell anything about it. The only thing I can say is that he seemed very scared when I asked him about it". I look straight into his eyes now. "Look I have to ask you this", I say, "Are you damn sure it wasn't you?" "No", he says calm, "I understand you have to ask me that but I can assure you it wasn't me, definitely not". "Any idea?" I ask him. "I have no proof at all", he says, "but I've to tell you that his class teacher is my prime suspect". "Who is that?" "It's that former catholic priest. Robert O'Neil", he says, "I suggest you do some inquiries in his passed". "All right, I'll keep you informed", I say to him, "Let's talk about Ian now. You please keep an extra eye on him from now. If there are changes in his behaviour or when he starts to have nightmares or wets his bed, inform me at once please". "Sure", he says, "and...Colin, thanks for believing me". We shake hands and after that Jonathan returns to his group and I walk over to my boys. Standing at the door of the living room I don't walk in immediately. >From inside wonderful music reaches my ears. Tom is singing solo and the group is crooning with him. It's not a Christmas carol, now way. They just started that beautiful and touching song I like so much too. Without making any sound I listen with my ear against the door. O Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling >From glen to glen and down the mountainside The summer's gone and all the roses falling `Tis you, `tis you must go and I must bide But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed en white with snow `Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow O Danny boy, O Danny boy, I love you so. But if ye come and all the flowers are dying If I am dead, as dead I well may be You'll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say an Ave there for me And I shall hear, though soft, your tread above me And all my grave shall warmer, sweeter be For you will bend and tell me that you love me And I will sleep in peace until you come to me. With a sigh I open the door and go in. Before the magic atmosphere can change I go and stand besides Tom. There we stand together; a former and a still active choirboy. "Let's sing it again", I whisper in his ear. His glittering eyes give the answer. He squeezes my hand and the same moment we're singing the song again. Just a few seconds later the group is crooning with us. A little louder now, not shy anymore. This is one of the valuable moments worth more than all the money in the world. Each in every boy will remember these moments of unity throughout his entire life. Tom's voice and mine are in harmony. His treble sound and my light tenor form a good combination indeed. For you will bend and tell me that you love me And I will sleep in peace until you come to me. The song has ended again and after a few moments of silence all boys applaud for us and Tom and I thank for that like we were performing in a large music hall. Having an eye now for the way they've decorated the room I can't say anything else than there are some artists in my group. They've not only used the materials I gathered this morning backstage. A number of them went to the forest again and gathered branches with green leaves and red berries and so on. The even used fresh flowers, probably picked in the school glass house. I can only hope they had permission from the gardener I say to myself. After a few minutes I send them to the bathroom to shower. Although there are enough pipes and showerheads for each boy, most of them prefer to shower in pairs. Looking around I see each one is cleaning his penis and scrotum very dedicated now. They all use a lot of soap and noticing all these bums clamping together it is obvious hygiene isn't the only motivation any longer! Nevertheless I am sure my group of boys will have the cleanest dickies of the country again. After dinner we watch television for a while till the sleeping hour is there again. As always I enjoy our ritual of exchanging night kisses confirming that love is still there. I realize myself that Lars is missing. Knowing him I am sure it's nothing serious and he will show up sooner or later. I will use the camera system to check later he's back. Well not necessary as I discover a few moments later. When I enter my apartment its Lars coming from my kitchen with two glasses of orange juice I presume. However after a sip from both glasses I learn Lars gave him self vodka and juice as well! Lars is not wearing the normal nightshirt but an oversized t-shirt. When he sits down besides me I have a clear view at his genitals. His low hanging balls packed in his pink crinkled and hairless scrotum. His dickie is half erected the head still partly covered by his foreskin. With my arm around his shoulders and caressing his cheek we enjoy our drink. No sounds are there nor coming in. It is complete silent and I can hear his breathing very clearly. Every now and than a deep sigh escapes from his lips. Our glasses are still half full when Lars jumps up from the couch. He looks into my eyes and smiles. "Please come to bed sir", he whispers, "I need you tonight. I need you to make love together. Please come". A flash of lust feelings sets my body in fire. I can't remember being this horny in my entire life. "Yes", I whisper back, "Yes my beautiful Lars; let's do it". In the bedroom I only light a pair of candles on my nightstand. The diffuse light makes large dark shadows on the walls around us. Lars takes the initiative. He throws himself into my arms and starts furiously kissing me. He sucks my lips almost into his mouth and breaks in with his tongue. Passionately is our French kissing; passionately and intense. While Lars undresses me I remove his t-shirt as the only cloth he is wearing. My hands explore his back and his bum and when I slide my finger through the crack between is buttocks I notice it's slippery there. I look at him and ask without talking. Lars grins with a very naughty expression on his face. "I went to the nurse sir and told her my tummy was aching because I haven't had a proper dump in three days. Well you know she always gives an enema when you complain about that so you can be sure I am very clean inside. In here I used a nice amount of your KY jelly if you don't mind. Please come sir, I need you inside me now. It has been too long since... well no doubt you know sir". Lars, still in possession of the initiative, tells me to lye down on my back. As soon as I'm on the bed he positions himself with one knee on each side of my body and face to face. My penis is hard as a rock and I can feel my little member disappear while Lars lowers himself. It's amazing how easy and smoothly his boy hole is able to accommodate me. Sure I am not exactly a giant down there but it's an average sized penis anyway, I should say five inches when fully hard like it is now. I try to start moving up and down but Lars tells me to stop that. "Just enjoy sir", he says, "Let me do the work this time". Than incredible feelings start flashing through my genitals. It is unbelievable indeed what this boy can do with his muscles. While moving up and down in a very slow rhythm on my penis he is squeezing every square millimetre of my penis in a very special way. Meanwhile he is observing my face constantly and the moment he notices that I am close to cumming he is able to use a special technique to bring me down without spoiling my erection. The pleasure in my balls and dick is tremendous and intense; almost painful. Looking at the boys' face I notice he is close too. A nice and boyish flush colours his cheeks pink and from moaning he starts grunting like a bear. "There we go sir", he shouts, "there we go". I feel my penis growing inside my loving boy and see Lars' boy penis stretch another inch or so. The moment my first spurt of semen hits his prostate gland inside Lars shoots his first jet of semen far enough to land on my face. Six, seven more times we both ejaculate our juices like little rockets. Lars is filled up inside and I have globes of sperm all over my body. Lars removes himself from my rod and licks every drop of semen from my face and body. Then he starts French kissing again donating his seed to my tongue. This is the first time I taste the stuff and it is tasty indeed. It's some kind of salty sweetness and the idea that there are millions of sperms swimming to my throat desperately searching for a tiny egg makes me laugh. "What's so funny sir?" Lars asks. I explain my thoughts to him and he has to laugh too. Totally spent we embrace each other and start cuddling and caressing for a while. Soon Lars' breathing becomes deep and regular showing me he has fallen into a deep sleep. I cover the two of us with my duvet and whisper: "Good night my boy. Thanks very much it was great". A moan is the only answer I get. Dear readers, I have to go abroad to manage a project again. The next part will be there around the first week of August. Have a nice summertime and a great holiday eventually.