Date: Sun, 3 Jan 2010 12:40:45 +0000
From: Josh Cock <joshcock@hotmail.com>
Subject: Simon's Boy Part Five

The boys stayed together as golf partners and as bed partners for the next
two years till Angel eventually told Sam that he was going to concentrate
on cunt and was giving up cock, but the boys stayed close friends, even
though Sam was by now a far better golfer and Angel had gone straight.

Sam, in fact, was so good that by the time he was seventeen, he'd cleaned
up every amateur junior competition he'd entered and even worked his way
through the qualifying rounds of the Spanish Open, and, just short of his
eighteenth birthday, he managed to make the cut in that event.

That evening we all sat on the hotel terrace; Angel, far from being jealous
of Sam's success, had become his caddy and went to all the events with him.

"Wish you hadn't gone fuckin' straight," Sam grinned at Angel. "I'd have
loved to fuck your brains out right now."

"I'm sure Josh will oblige," Angel grinned back.

"Course he will," Sam sniggered, "But it ain't the same as your tight, hot
hole, an' I do miss your lush cock."

"I miss yours, too," Angel said softly. "I miss it, but, regretfully, I no
longer want it." He took a drag on his cigarette and a long slurp of his
drink. "I am sorry, but cock no longer appeals to me."

"Well, whatever turns you on, I suppose," Sam, shrugged his shoulders. "But
I gotta tell you, your arse was better than any cunt I've been in."

"You have told me that many times," Angel snorted into his beer, but it is
now something for you to remember, not sample."

 He may have gone totally straight, but Angel had no problems with Sam's
occasional references to their past activities, nor with my preferences,
and none with the fact that his close friend shared my bed every night. Nor
did he ever show the slightest sign of regret or remorse that he had once
allowed me to experience his own teenage charms. Sam could not have found a
better, truer, friend than Angel.

I wasn't the slightest bit offended by Sam saying he'd have preferred
Angel's arse to mine, Angel was still gorgeous and still only seventeen, a
combination that I thought Sam had every right to drool over.

"We could, of course, always go out and find something we would both be
happy to put our cocks in," Angel suggested as he emptied his glass.

"Bit of cunt instead?" Sam asked. "Yeh, why not? So long as it's not been
over used."

"I am sure we could find something quite fresh at one of the clubs," Angel
mused. "A beer or two, some dancing, and perhaps a couple of young girls
might suit you."

"Sounds ok," Sam nodded his agreement.

"A stroll in the park, perhaps, and some nice bushes?" Angel suggested,
knowing full well that Sam was up for it.

"Yeh, find a couple of tasty tarts an' we can share," Sam, as always,
wanted more than just a simple fuck when it was cunt he was using.

"If Josh does not mind, of course," Angel said tactfully.

"Go ahead, lads, get rid of some of the overload in your balls," I grinned
at them. "I'm pretty sure Angel's in serious need of some spunking, and if
you don't go out he's gonna have to wank in the bathroom."

Both lads grinned at my pointed reference to Angel's refusal to allow his
cock any male treatment except by himself, though Angel did have the grace
to blush just a little, before getting back with,

"Not a problem Sam will have to overcome," which made us all laugh.

"You could always go for a wander, Josh," Sam suggested. "Noticed a few
kids round the station when we got in the other day."

"Indeed," Angel agreed, "There are always some illegals about in need of a
few Euros; Romanian, African; you could have an interesting time at very
little cost."

"Don't see the point in paying for it when I can shag Sam later," I grinned
at them, but Sam was insistent.

"Bound to be something nice and young about, Josh," he said, "You know you
love it only just spunkin'."

"A stage you are well past," Angel sniggered at Sam, "Even though you keep
things smooth for Josh."

"Fuck off," Sam grinned good naturedly. "Bet that's why you went straight,
really. That, or you knew Josh wouldn't go near your pretty little cock
once it got hidden in a fuckin' forest. That'd been a real downer for you;
wiggle your arse at Josh an' he looked the other way!"

Far from being annoyed or embarrassed at the teasing, Angel cheerfully
joined in.

"The nature of my pubic growth is of no concern to you, and as for my cock,
as you well know, it could never pass for one belonging to a boy just
starting to spunk, whereas yours, if I remember correctly, would be large,
but not exceptional on such a boy."

Now it was Sam's turn to blush a little. He might be the better golfer, but
Angel, I recalled, certainly did have the bigger equipment.

I thought it time to end this before one of them said something less
teasing.

"Off you go, lads, but remember to wear raincoats."

"I know, Josh," Sam said wearily. Every time he went out for a fuck I
nagged him to make sure there were no unwanted consequences.

"Josh's definition of safe sex," Angel said with a broad smile on his still
angelic face, "Fuck a boy instead of a girl. Boys don't get pregnant."

Sam hooted with laughter, and when it subsided, he grinned,

"An' I'm livin' proof of it!" Which, naturally, produced more guffaws from
both the boys, and a slightly embarrassed smile from me.



It was a couple of weeks later that the phone rang just after Sam had fed
me my usual morning treat. I'd only just finished making sure there were no
drips left and Sam's hard cock was still between my lips when he answered
the call. I knew from the expressions flowing across his face and from the
way his body had gone all tense, that this was no usual phone call; it
certainly wasn't one of the neighbours inviting us out for a round and some
lunch afterwards. It wasn't anything bad either, the expressions on Sam's
face were not those associated with bad news.

"You kiddin?" he half gasped into the phone.

"You sure this ain't a wind up?" He almost croaked the words and I
thoughtfully let go of his cock so he could concentrate better.

"The Australian? That's in three weeks!"

"Yeh, too right!"

"Letter confirming's on the way?"

"Yeh, brilliant. Thanks." He put the phone down with a look somewhere
between disbelief and sheer, inexpressible joy, on his face.

"That," he said, trying to sound as cool and calm as possible, "Was an
invitation to play in the Australian Open."

He hurled his naked body back down onto me, rammed his mouth against mine
and battered my tonsils with his tongue for a good couple of minutes before
lifting his face away and breathing,

"The Australian! Fuckin' hell!"

The tears were in his eyes, tears of wonderment, joy and disbelief. One of
the things that endeared Sam so much to me was that he was just as soft now
as he was when I first found him, four and a half years ago. I suppose
that's the Celt in me, emotions should be expressed, not hidden away.

Slowly the expression in his eyes changed, moving from wonderment to an
attempt to hide deep, bitter, disappointment.

"Won't be able to go, will I, Josh," he said, flatly, no hint of the
turmoil he was going through. "No way can you afford that."

As an amateur, Sam would have to pay all his own expenses of course, and,
however well he played, he couldn't win one single penny. He'd need at
least two weeks there to acclimatise if he was to be in with any sort of
chance of even playing reasonably, let alone well. It would cost thousands.

"You're going," I said, firmly. No way could I let him miss out on a chance
like this. "Just have to dig into the savings."

"Like you got millions tucked away," Sam grinned sadly. He knew the state
of our finances as well as I did.

"You'll just have to turn pro, become a millionaire and keep me in me old
age," I tried to sound upbeat, but it was a pathetic attempt.

"Do it tomorrow," he smiled sadly back. "Gotta tell Angel, though," he
said, picked up the phone and padded, still naked, into the bathroom so he
could call, and probably weep, in private.

He came back, still naked, his face puffy and his eyes red. He'd obviously
had a good cry.

"Make love to me, Josh," he muttered as he climbed back into bed. "I need a
good fuckin'. Fuck me senseless. Please," he begged.

Fucking him wasn't uppermost in my mind at that moment, but he was right;
it was what we both needed.

All thoughts of how to get the money together faded as my cock slid into
Sam's hot, wet hole, and I'm sure the same happened to him as he felt me
invade his love tube, moving slowly at first, but with increasing urgency
as the need to fuck our trouble away blended with the sheer lust of being
inside a boy.

I didn't try to hold back, didn't try to make it last; we both needed
simple, animal fucking, and the harder I pounded him the more we forget
everything except those thoughts that come when cock is inside arse.

We didn't fuck the problem away, but we did at least force it into the
background for a while, and when the fucking was over, it gradually came
back to the surface.

I offered again to use our savings to finance him, but Sam, bless him, was
adamant. No way was he going to let me use that to send him to Australia;
he knew, as well as I did, that money was what we lived on.

We got through the morning, trying to be cheerful, but failing miserably,
and finally wandered down the clubhouse for lunch, hoping that a couple of
beers may make things look a little brighter. Sam's mobile rang while we
were chatting nothings with a couple of other members, and after he'd taken
the call Sam said, with a complete lack of enthusiasm,

"We're invited to the Alfonso Trece for dinner. Angel's father want's to
chat."

I could understand Sam's lack of enthusiasm at an invitation to one of
Sevilla's better restaurants, and I shared it. Angel's father would want to
talk about how I just had to find the money for Sam, and probably suggest
several places I could borrow it from. Borrowing wasn't the problem –
paying it back would be!

A right pair we must have looked when we arrived, both with forced smiles
and dead eyes.

Angel padre seemed not to notice and went straight in with,

"How wonderful for you, Sam. Such an opportunity."

"Oh, yeh," I thought, "Really wonderful; an opportunity that could be his
first step on the ladder to being the professional he dreamed of, and he
couldn't take it because I couldn't afford it!"

"And Angel is so thrilled that you asked him to be your caddy," the father
went on, oblivious to the fact that Sam's eyes were stone hard. They had to
be, he'd start crying otherwise. I knew my Sam!

"Would have asked him," Sam said woodenly, staring at his still empty
plate, "If I'd been going."

"But of course you are going," the fool went on, and I wanted to shout at
him, tell him to shut up, and grab Sam and get out of the place. Sam didn't
deserve to be humiliated like this.

"It is just such an amazing coincidence," he chatted on, "So perfect."

"What the fuck is perfect in my boy being offered the chance of his life,
and he can't fucking take it?" I wanted to yell, but instead I kept my lips
clamped together.

If I'd been more alert I might have spotted that Angel's eyes were smiling,
and he was trying hard to catch Sam's attention, but Sam was concentrating
on fighting anger and tears and I was concentrating on not hitting the
stupid, pompous fool that was Angel's father.

"Just today," the idiot went on, "Just lunchtime today, the Committee of
Club Real decided to sponsor a membership for Sam. For such a talent, the
Committee felt it was no more than was reasonable, a boy from our city
should have a big name behind him." He sat there, with a self-satisfied
smirk on his face, a smirk I'd have loved to wipe off with a single
backhanded slap.

That Committee, or rather the president of that Committee, Angel's father,
had grabbed what they thought was a chance to get the Club's name
publicised; Sam, the young amateur playing in a big European Tour Open, was
one of their members. Kudos all round!

"And, would you believe it, only this morning, my wife and I decided that
we would at last take our long promised holiday to Australia, and include
the Open in our itinerary."

I thought I began to see what the old fool was getting round to; by having
a family holiday to coincide with the Open, he was taking away from Sam the
responsibility of paying for his caddy's expenses. It was, to be fair, a
generous gesture, and I started to try to calculate if it just might be
possible to get enough together to pay for just Sam.

"And, naturally, we would consider it an honour if Sam would be willing to
travel with us, as the guest of ourselves and the Club Real."

It was neatly done, in the pompous Sevillano way. It would have been an
unforgivable insult to me to say he knew I couldn't afford it so they'd
foot the bill. It would have been demeaning for him to have even offered to
do such a thing. But to make Sam a member of his Club, to get them to agree
to sponsorship and then to take my boy along as his guest on an already
planned (ha ha) family holiday, was both socially acceptable and, also,
loaded with kudos for both him and the Club.

I couldn't think of a single word to say, Sam's eyes were, as you might
expect, wet; Angel was grinning like a fool and his father was as happy as
a Labrador with two tails at being able to demonstrate so completely, his
power, his influence and his wealth.

The people who got into a taxi home were not the same, miserable pair who'd
arrived at that restaurant, and our lovemaking when we got home was far
different from the animalistic pounding of the morning.

We kissed and cuddled for hours before either of us even moved a hand
towards a cock, and when we did, our orgasms came from slow, and languorous
lovemaking. I took Sam inside me and he fucked me so slowly, at times
barely moving, just luxuriating in the feel of his cock gripped by my love
chute, and when he finally spurted, his spunk hot inside me, he slid out,
eased down the bed and took me in his mouth. I'm not sure how he coaxed a
second load out of me, two in one day was more of a memory than a fact for
me, but he did, and we almost slipped into sleep sharing the taste in his
mouth.

The day before he was due to leave, Sam went off to the range to practice,
insisting I stayed behind to cook lunch.

"We should go out," I tried to insist, but Sam would have none of it.

"Last lunch together for a month," he said, "We should share it at home."

I had no choice and laboured in the kitchen while he was at the range.

I heard the gate groan open about half past one, about the right time for
Sam, but the gate's groan was accompanied by voices. Sam was not alone. I
guessed he'd probably got one of the members with him, who'd called round
to wish him luck.

There were some giggles, and a definite,

"Shush!" from Sam.

Not one of the members, then!

Intrigued, I waited for the door to open, completely forgetting that I was,
as usual, stark naked, and when it did I was more than intrigued. Sam it
was, but he had two boys with him, the older looking no more than just
about thirteen.

The two boys started giggling again when they registered my state of
undress and saw the look on my face.  Sam glared at them, and then pointed
to the sofa where they duly sat, looking just like two mischievous boys
should look.

Sam reached into his pocket and brought out a packet of fags, gave one to
each boy and one to me, then popped another between his own lips, having
first given me a glare that said "Don't you say one, single word!"

The boys were obviously under firm orders as well as neither of them said a
word while they smoked their cigarettes, though they did give me what
seemed like appraising looks from time to time, I was naked after all, not
having expected Sam to bring back company! They looked at me and then
whispered to each other and giggled.

Cigarettes finished in this weird silence, Sam crooked a finger at the two
boys and led them off to the bathroom. I heard the boiler go on and the
sound of water flowing. What the fuck was he up to?

The boiler went off, the water stopped flowing, and a few minutes later a
naked Sam led the two boys back into the living room. They, too, were
naked!

I stared; what else could I do? Two boys I'd never seen before, naked in my
lounge!

I'd guessed the older one to be about thirteen, now I wasn't sure. His
uncircumcised cock had started to develop, but there were no pubes in
sight, no hint that puberty had made a full arrival. The younger one was
still pure pre-adolescent, a little finger sized cock over a tight scrotum,
balls obviously still undropped. They were both delightful, no excess fat
anywhere; two little cherubs.

"Present for you," Sam smirked, "Something to play with while I'm away."

"You what?" I croaked.

"From the camp," he grinned. "That one," he pointed at the older of the
two, "Offered me his arse for a packet of fags the other day, so I asked
him if he'd be up for lettin' you shag him for a month. Little sod took me
to see his mother to negotiate a price!"

The little sod in question beamed delightedly; Romanian illegal he might
be, but he'd picked up enough Spanish to know what was being said.

"And?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Hundred Euros for the month, provided he stays here all the time. Didn't
think you'd object to havin' him sleep over."

"And the other one?"

"Mother chucked him in for another hundred," Sam was almost bursting with
laughter.

"Just as a matter of interest, how old are they?" My mind was in a complete
whirl. Sam and I had often joked about checking out the Romanian camp to
see if there were any tasty lads around, but we'd never done anything about
it. Well, I hadn't, but it seemed Sam might have done!

"He's just thirteen; no pubes as you can see, and can't spunk yet, though
from what he tells me about when he wanks, he ain't far off. Brother's ten;
know you've always had that secret want to try somethin' young," Sam leered
at me. "Now you got two on a month's trial."

Thirteen was legal, even if it couldn't spunk, but no way ten was! But,
then, I thought, they were illegals, so no-one was going to make a fuss,
least of all their mother who'd rented them out!

"Thought we might try them out after lunch," Sam giggled. "You mind if I
break the little one in? I got this thing about young arse as well!"

Sam had never mentioned that before, but he had, over the time he'd been
with me, often teased me about what he was certain was my secret desire to
have sampled him when he was younger. I knew, that having tried both female
entrances and Angel, Sam expressed a preference for boy arse, but he'd
never made any mention of wanting to try something really young.

We fed the boys on the balcony, Sam having closed the end shutters so we
couldn't be overlooked, and so the boys could enjoy the feel of warm air
all over their little bodies. Sam slowly and carefully explained to them
that they would remain naked for the entire time they were here and that
they would be letting me play with them whenever I wanted.

"An' he'll want you all day long," Sam explained, "An' all night as well."

The boys giggled; no problems there!

"Their mother really rent them out?" I asked Sam. I found that difficult to
believe.

"Of course," Sam looked at me as though I was some sort of retard. "She
ain't gotta feed `em for a month an' she got two hundred Euros: couldn't
believe her luck!"

"Bugger me!" I breathed; I was obviously well out of touch with things.

"Told the kids you'd slip `em a few extra each, just for themselves, if
they kept you happy."

I nodded, absently, still wondering about the boys' mother happily renting
out her young sons for sex.

"An' I told her if they was any good, we'd probably want to rent them
weekends when I got back. You shoulda heard the yellin' she gave them. He,"
Sam pointed to the older one, "Told me she was yellin' that they had to
make sure they fucked good!"

"Me like fuck," the older boy announced proudly; probably the only word
he'd understood Sam saying to me.

I looked at him open mouthed. He barely looked old enough to wank properly!

"Me been fucked four, five times. Me like fuck."

I just stared at the boy, I could think of nothing to say!

"Brother not fuck yet," the boy went on," Him just suck two cock."

"Suck cock good!" the younger one beamed.

This was getting totally surreal! Two naked boys, one ten, one thirteen,
happily announcing their sexual achievements!

We did them before I cleared lunch away, all four of us on the bed.

Sam rimmed the ten year old and got him into a real squealing mode.

"Thought you weren't into eating arse," I commented between mouthfuls of
thirteen year old flesh.

"Am if it's young enough!" Sam grinned back and returned for a further
sample.

The ten year old squealed and screamed when Sam went into him; the scream
may have started as pain, but it soon turned into something else if the way
he rammed himself up and down on Sam's slender five or so inches was
anything to go by.

The older one positioned himself for doggy when I finished eating him, and
simply pushed himself back onto my cock. It didn't go in easily; he might
have been fucked a few times before, but he was still a very tight fit, and
he too, used his vocal chords. God knows what any passing golfers might
have thought!

"No offence, Josh," Sam grinned at me when he took a brief pause from
shagging, "But tight, young boy arse is just out of this world!"

"Tell me about it," I grinned back, my own cock in the tightest sheath it
had been in since Sam gave up his virginity to me more than four years ago.

I was going to miss Sam while he was away, but not as much as I would have
done, not with this sort of compensation!



And that is the end of `Simon's Boy'. I hope those of you who managed to
follow it all the way through found some enjoyment in it. I apologise for
the ending descending a little too much into fantasy – it is doubtful if
Sam's golf could ever have been that good!

Comments are, as always, most welcome, and I will endeavour to reply
whenever I can.



joshcock@hotmail.com