Date: Fri, 16 Sep 2005 18:25:02 +0100
From: Mike Arram <marram@wanadoo.co.uk>
Subject: Heart of Oskar Prinz - 2 (and follow up)

The following story describes people and places wholly fictional, although
based on some element of reality.  How much is really up to you to decide.
There is a place called Ruthenia, but it is not the Rothenia depicted here.
It won't take long for the alert reader to realise that my Rothenia is
unapologetically borrowed from Anthony Hope's magnificent creation of
Ruritania, although updated for the twenty-first century.
  This is my third attempt at gay erotic fiction.  The earlier ones are
'The Decent Inn' and 'Terry and the Peachers' which can be found in the
Nifty archive under the College section.  Excuse the self-indulgence of the
crossover references, but they did amuse me.
  The story contains graphic depictions of sex between adult males.  If the
reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your place of
residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further.
If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.
  And for those with an inclination to vomit, I have to warn you that this
is fundamentally a romantic story written by a hopeless romantic.



II


  'Sir!'
  'Yes, Jake?'
  'Sir, Ricky just put his hand on my knee.'
  'Did not!  Don't listen to him, sir!'
  'Gay!'  The class tittered at the cheap insult.  Will seethed briefly.
   But he mastered himself and heaved an internal sigh. 'Jake, Ricky.' His
voice cracked out sharply, 'That's enough.  Leave your romantic life, or
lack of it, for the playground.'
  'But sir ...'
  'You were supposed to be looking at the Ten Commandments, if I'm right,
and deciding which were relevant today.  Yes?'
  'Yes, but ...'
  'Yes but nothing.  Try this one for size.  Thou shalt not disrupt my
class or your days will not be long in the land.'
  'Sir.'  Quiet descended over Will's room.  He taught Year 7 RE on Monday
mornings, and he did not find it an easy start to the week, especially
after this particular weekend.  He was finding concentration difficult, for
he was in a state not too far distant from what some might consider to be
love.
  He was a good teacher, interesting and organised, with, in general, an
effortless control over his kids.  His first year in schools had had one or
two rough patches, but now he was in his second year; he knew the job and
was well in control, except that his fascination with the Rothenian boy
from the DVD was disturbing his equilibrium today.  The kids maybe sensed
it, in the way kids did, homing in on any weakness as if by instinct.  It
was a relief when the lesson bell went without further incident.
  It was his precious free period.  He gathered up some marking, locked his
door and sought the staff room.  One or two scattered colleagues were
slumped around the room.  He made a coffee and took up a table.  But he
knew marking was not going to be easy.  His mind kept wandering off to
graphic scenes of oral and anal sex playing and replaying in his head.  He
had seen the Rothenian boy doing every sexual act he could imagine and some
he hadn't.  His perfect body had been a trampoline for another twink.  He
saw him smiling round the other guy's cock; engaging in banal chitchat in a
beautiful soft foreign language, translated in subtitles; saw his superb
arse penetrated by fingers and a cock.  How could such a body and -- yes --
such an intelligent-looking guy, get caught up in the porn industry?  Will
also had a name for his new obsession -- for Matthew White was now well and
truly laid aside -- on the sleeve the Rothenian boy was credited as 'Marc
Bennett'.
  Will knew that this was a 'nom de porn', but it was a start.  Just as
with Matt White he had this frustrated need to engage with more than just
the face and body of this gorgeous boy.  He had to know more.  Where did
this boy live?  How did he get into porn?  Was he as bright as he looked?
How old really was he?
  A metasearch on the web turned up very little other than a couple more
titles and calendars in which 'Marc Bennett' was a star.  A brief
pseudo-biography told him that he was six foot, a Capricorn, born in
Rothenia, was twenty-two and had blue eyes.  That was it.  Same age and
height as me, Will thought, although they perhaps had little else in
common.  He gritted his teeth and tried to blot out that smiling face and
the sound of Marc Bennett's soft male voice talking, and panting in sexual
congress.  He began making ticks on the pages of Class 8E's exercise books,
although he wasn't really reading them.  He corrected the odd spelling
error, just to make it look as though he had taken them in.  Eventually he
finished the pile and stretched.
  A female voice from across the room enquired, 'Good weekend, Will?'
  'Went up to London Saturday, Mary, but didn't do much other than wander
round.'
  'I was in town too.  If I'd known we could have met up.'
  'Sorry, Mary.  I just wanted to do the bookshops.  Oh well, maybe another
time.'  Mary Andrews, German and French, smiled a little regretfully and
nodded.  Will caught signals that Mary, who had joined the school the same
time as him, was interested in him.  A shame, of course.  She was quite
pretty, and he knew he was not bad looking for that matter, but they would
never be a couple, even though the older staff seemed to imagine that a
romance was inevitable.
  Will took his coffee over to the first floor window and looked out across
the fields of Berkshire, the dramatically steaming chimneys of Didcot power
station on the far horizon.  Whithampsted was a small market town with one
secondary school, called Whithampsted Grammar as a nod to its distinguished
history, although it was in fact a comprehensive.  Still, it was a
successful one with a good headteacher and it sent half a dozen kids every
year to Oxford and Cambridge.  He could be happy in this school, Will
thought, and he already sensed that kids and colleagues alike approved of
him.  But he was not happy.  The issue of his concealed sexuality taunted
him and forced him into a self-imposed isolation.  He could not get close
to his younger male colleagues and he usually did not join their drinks
nights and clubbing in Oxford and Reading.  He found it hard to fake the
heterosexual rutting instinct.
  But one recent night out with the lads which had ended up with them all
watching straight porn in a state of dazed drunkenness had given him the
idea that had led him to the cellars of Soho.  Now he could stay at home
and wank, and he had the beginnings of a suitable porn collection to wank
to.

By Thursday, Will had more or less masturbated himself into a sexual
stupor.  Every detail of 'Rothenian Boys 7' was imprinted on his brain,
even the bits without Marc Bennett.  He wanted more, which faintly alarmed
him because he knew that porn was addictive and between rent, student debt,
credit agreements and travel, he did not have a huge amount of money left
to distribute to the benefit of the seedier end of the capitalist system.
  Totally drained after a full day's timetable, he had sagged into
unconsciousness as soon as he got home to his little rented flat above the
newsagents in High Street.  He was drooling when he abruptly awoke at half
six.  The TV was still on but muted.  He microwaved some pizza and changed
out of his suit.  He showered and afterwards checked his dick, which was
showing the signs of too much recent dry friction.  He washed and soaped
his inflamed and reddened foreskin and looked embarrassed at himself in the
mirror.  Brown, slightly anxious eyes stared back at him.  But there was
not much need for physical embarrassment.  Will was a slim and by no means
unpleasing man, pale skinned, and hairless on his upper body.  He was not a
hunk maybe, but he had worked out and run as a student, if not recently.
He had powerful legs and firm pectoral muscles.  Since starting teaching he
had grown his thick dark hair over his ears; it looked good and he had been
idiotically pleased to find that it curled at his nape, just like Matt
White's did.  Although perpetually lacking in social confidence, Will was
at least confident that he was a reasonably attractive man, or he would be
if he could lose the air of uncertainty that was a direct result, he felt,
of living his concealed gay life.
  At seven thirty he left for choir practice.  One of his few regular
social evenings was with the choir of the parish church of St Mary.  The
church had an ambitious director of music and a long tradition of choral
excellence, so it attracted many of the local musicians and had full
benches of boy choristers, many of them Will's pupils.  It sang choral
evensong and full eucharistic settings; the church was also a favourite for
local weddings.  Will was a pretty fine tenor, and had been in choirs since
beginning university.  He had been delighted to find that Whithampsted
offered such an opportunity and the choir in turn was delighted to have a
young and accomplished singer in these latter days when the number of male
singers was dropping and true tenor voices were less common.
  When he reached the vestry, the choir was already rehearsing.  Will slid
in next to Harry Baxter, one of the other two regular tenors.  Harry gave
him a swift grin, and Will caught up with the score: 'O Thou the Central
Orb.'  As they reached the final ascending bars they were soaring in
perfect sync, enjoying the glorious line for all it was worth.  The
director directed a wry look at the pair as the anthem finished, 'Nice.
But a little less tenor next time, please gentlemen.'
  Harry and Will sniggered.  Like all tenors, they knew they usually had
the best and most high profile lines and they hammed it up to the hilt.  By
the time the practice finished, Will was thoroughly euphoric.  It was a
better high than any alcoholic or chemical substance had ever given him in
his student days.  Harry and he were riotous on the back row and were
beginning to annoy the neighbouring altos.
  Harry Baxter was a youngish solicitor working in a practice in Didcot.
He lived near Whithampsted however.  Will had got the idea that he was from
a local family and that his father had been a solicitor before him.  He was
single, but the choir ladies thought he had a girlfriend in London.  He
certainly travelled a lot.  He and Will adjourned with the basses and a few
of the ladies to the Feathers opposite the church.  Three beers maintained
Will's sense of euphoria.  Harry too seemed exceptionally jolly, and his
scurrilous Whithampsted stories had the bar roaring.  There was nobody to
match a local solicitor in salacious and risky gossip.  At ten people began
drifting away.  Will was for once reluctant for the evening to end, and
when he and Harry were all that was left he surprised himself by offering
his colleague a whisky at his flat, a few doors down.  Harry happily
agreed.

  It was as Will pushed open the flat door that he finally remembered what
had been nagging at the corner of his memory for an hour.  There in the
centre of his lounge coffee table lay in all its glory his copy of Gay
Universe.  Overwhelmed with shock he pushed in front of Harry and shifted a
pile of exercise books on top of it in the guise of clearing the sofa.
They didn't hide it, but he hoped that they obscured enough of the cover so
it could be any glossy magazine.
  Will recovered his poise, if not his euphoria, and poured them drinks.
Harry sat on the sofa with his feet up on the coffee table, while Will took
the single armchair.
  'That was a good night.'  Will observed.
  'It was great,' said Harry, 'What did you think of the latest Gay
Universe then?'  The bottom dropped out of Will Vincent's world.
  'Uhh ... you saw it then.'
  'Oh yeah,' but Harry was smiling.  'It's OK, Will, I buy it too.  I am
likewise gay.'
  Will caught his breath.  He paused and said, 'But you're not out, are
you?'
  Harry laughed, 'Out is an odd concept, y'know.  My parents know nothing
about it, nor do the people I work with, even if they suspect.  Not that I
could care.  But gay is as gay does.  I'm queer when I want and need to be.
Out is a patchy concept, for me at least.'
  'Wow.'  Will looked with renewed attention at Harry.  He was just past
thirty, he reckoned.  He was quite fit, with just a little thickening at
the waist.  He had crisp, well-tended blond hair and very well-selected
casuals.  He wasn't that good looking, but money had given him a certain
glossy look.  A nicely manicured and successful solicitor, or a middle
class gay man: take your choice.
  'I thought you were too, Will.  I saw you eye up that young guy in the
front pew last Sunday.'
  Will remembered: it had been Robert Franks, just completed A Levels and
as hot and shy an eighteen-year-old boy as you could dream of.  He was just
glad he didn't teach him at A Level.  He could never have concentrated on
the subject with that sort of babe in front of him.  In church or not, he
had been undressing the boy in his mind, and it had been very disturbing,
especially when Robert had met his gaze and held it.
  Harry continued with a question, 'Did you deliberately let me see your
magazine?'
  'Er ... no.  If I did it was just subconscious, I suppose.'
  Harry looked faintly disappointed.  'You really are barricaded into the
closet aren't you, Will?'
  'Just not ready to come out yet, I guess.'
  'So you've never done it with another man.'  It was a statement.
  Will didn't want to answer that question.  He'd never in fact had sex
with anyone apart from his hand.  In school it was too terrifying a thing
to recognise his sexuality and act on it.  In university he had not found a
gay friend to be confident with, to help him out.  So he didn't answer, and
he was a little annoyed at a fleeting smile that passed across Harry's
face.  'Scuse me, I need a refill.'  He did too.  His heart was racing.
How was he going to deal with this?  He felt like he ought to ask Harry to
swear an oath of silence.  Didn't doctors and lawyers have to keep things
in confidence when asked?
  As he put the bottle down, he knew that Harry had come up behind him, for
his strong aftershave reached out to alert him.  An arm folded round his
waist.  His breath stopped.  A hand lifted the hair at the nape of his neck
and a soft kiss was planted where it had been.  Will had frozen.  His hair
was moved from over his right ear, and the lips nuzzled it, and then a
tongue licked at the lobe.  Sexual desire boiled unwanted in his groin.
Harry pushed his crotch into Will's small rear; he felt the bar of Harry's
erection.  It was decision time.  Well, why not?  He had to lose it some
time.  Harry was at least experienced, or so he guessed.
  Will turned in the older man's arms, and found a face smiling
provocatively into his.  Inexpertly and clumsily he engaged with Harry's
lips.  The tang of the whisky was on them, and Harry's tongue in
retaliation forcefully took possession of his mouth, licking round inside
him.
  They broke contact.  Harry gave him a very seductive look.  'Mmm.  Nice.
You want to go the whole way?'
  Will, for all his fear, nodded abruptly.
  'Good.  You're quite a babe, William Vincent, even if you don't know it
yet.  And you've not done it before, have you?'
  Still silent, not trusting his voice, Will shook his head.  Harry looked
at him, still smiling, he took Will's polo shirt and lifted it off.  Will
raised his arms to help him.  Harry inspected his bare torso with approval.
He stroked his left nipple with a thumb, causing Will to shudder slightly.
He came closer, ran his hands down Will's back and pushed down below the
waist band of his jeans, cupping a tight buttock.  Will arched and groaned,
it was as if every vein and artery in his body had swelled.  Probably they
had.
  'Oh yeah,' Harry said softly, 'I want to hear more of that.  Now, step
out of your shoes, babe.'  He expertly unbuttoned and pulled down Will's
jeans and pants, pulling the socks off with them.  And there he stood,
quite naked for the first time with another man.  He felt Harry's intense
and appraising gaze.  He felt his cock thicken and twitch under the other
man's frank stare.
  Harry smiled again.  He pulled off his own shirt and stepped out of his
shoes and socks.  He closed again with Will and began a further exploration
of his mouth.  Will felt the warm, tight flesh of their chests rub
together, and his cock sprang up between them.  Harry's hand was at his
crack and a finger began probing him intimately and persistently, though
not painfully.  Will suddenly began to be anxious about the consequences of
his decision to go ahead with this.
  Harry broke off, but he took and gently fondled Will's erection as they
separated.  Something exploded at the base of Will's spine.  'Relax, Will.
I guarantee you'll love it.  It won't be what you fear.  Take my word for
it.  Now, have you got a lubricant?'
  'Er no, not even a condom.'
  'Well condoms are advisable, but you're a virgin and I'm clean.  No
honest.  My last test was only a fortnight ago, after I got back from
Greece where I did something stupid.  I'll tell you about it later.  We'll
go bareback, if you believe me.  As for the lack of lubrication ... well, I
warn you that you may be sore afterwards down there.  It's not the best way
to break an ass in.'
  'I believe you, Harry.  I ... I want to trust you.'
  Harry looked kindly into his eyes.  'Kid, you do say the sweetest
things.'  It was that kind look that finally persuaded Will that he was
doing the right thing.
  'Let's do it then.'
  Harry took Will's hand and led him into his small bathroom.  He saw the
herbal handwash on the washbasin.  'Faut de mieux,' he muttered. ' Put your
hands on the basin, babe,' he said, 'and separate your legs.  We've got to
open you up a bit, and it may take some time.'  Will realised that Harry
had taken control of him, but somehow he didn't resent it.  Harry ran some
water, and squirted handwash from the dispenser.  'Soap tends to burn
inside you, Will.  But this wash is going to be a lot milder.  Let me know
if it stings.'
  Will felt slick fingers pull his buttocks apart.  They began rubbing his
anal lips gently and tenderly, he arched and gave out a long, 'Oooh.'
  'Good isn't it?'
  'Aw yeah, it is.'
  'Enjoy it, kid.  You're going to get a lot of it.'  Will did.  Harry
spent a long time massaging his crack.  He relaxed and enjoyed the
wonderful sensations coming from his arse.  Every now and then a finger tip
tested his anus and after a while he felt a whole finger enter him.
Another man's finger was in his bum!  He could feel it moving.  He tensed,
but the slipperiness allowed Harry to slide into him easily and move about.
Will liked it, a lot.  After five minutes or so, he knew that two fingers
were in him and were stretching his anal muscles.  Still it didn't hurt; or
at least not until three fingers probed him more insistently and deeply.
He lifted on his toes.
  'Uncomfortable?'  came Harry's voice from behind him.
  'A bit, but it's a different feeling.'
  'You feel full?'
  'Yeah, full, and my arse wants to close up.'
  'Try pressing down, babe, as if you were crapping.'
  'What if I do crap?'
  'Can't feel anything in there, Will.  You must have been recently.'  Will
thought about it, 'This morning in school.'
  Harry got busy again.  Soon he was moving his fingers in and out of Will
quite easily, and Will was loving the sensation except that the fullness
was wanting to make him pee.
  'Can I pee?'
  'Do it in the sink, babe.'  Will complied, astonished at his sudden total
lack of embarrassment at pissing in front of another man.  A hot stream of
yellow urine slightly relieved the anxiety of his stimulated prostate.
Will ran the water to get rid of it.  Harry rose behind him and kissed his
neck again.  'Stage two,' he announced.
   Leaving his bum wet and slick, Harry led him to the sofa and got Will to
lean up against it on his knees.  Will bent low on the cushions, sticking
up his rear.  He heard Harry's trousers fall to the floor.  He guessed what
was coming next.  He had seen it happen to Marc Bennett.  A warm and wet
lapping began at his entry.  He luxuriated in the sensation, but was
intrigued by how muscular and insistent was Harry's tongue.  A sharp slap
on his right buttock surprised him, it also surprised his anal muscles,
which stood by stunned as three fingers shot into him deeper than ever
before.
  'Ow,' he said, for there was pain now, even though it was not unbearable.
The fingers flexed and turned in him, as the process of opening him up
continued.  Five minutes of it and the pain more or less passed.
  'Hang on a sec,' Harry said.  He disappeared and came back with Will's
shaving mirror.  'Look down, kid.'
  Will did, and saw the reflection of his wet anus as Harry pulled the
buttocks apart, he could see a black hole where it lay relaxed and open.
'Now push down.'  Will did and the damned thing winked at him.  Harry
laughed, and after a moment Will did too.  He made it do it again, with a
proud smile.  Harry went back to licking and sucking on him, but soon was
licking down the perineum to Will's hanging balls.  Each was sucked and
licked individually and with devotion.  Will realised with part of his mind
that he was being educated by a master.  He blessed his luck.  Harry pulled
Will's now semi-erect cock towards him, and began suckling luxuriously on
it.  If he hadn't been wanking so much recently, Will would have shot his
load by now.
  'It's time,' Harry announced.  He knelt up behind Will, and he felt the
hot, slick head of his penis at his entry.  He desperately tried to stay
relaxed, but it took two more sharp slaps to help his anus take Harry.  Now
it did hurt.  Will bit his lip.  But Harry was going nowhere in a hurry.
He waited for Will to tell him the pain was fading.  Again and again he
pushed and paused, until Will felt the tickling of Harry's pubic bush at
his buttocks and Harry's warm abdomen lay against his back as he held his
shoulders under his armpits.
  'You're being fucked up the arse, Will,' Harry gasped in his ear.
'You're a real queer now.'
  Will gritted his teeth, for the pain was quite bad.  He felt he was being
carved open by a blunt knife.  'Can you take it easy, Harry?'
  'Hurting?'
  'It's bad.'
  'Trust me babe.  It's time to go for it.  It'll get less, believe me.'
  It didn't.  But he was surprised at how new sensations were taking over
from the pain of being outrageously full of Harry, as Harry began to move
inside him.  Small spasms of electricity seemed to emanate from his
over-stimulated anal muscles, and something weird was happening behind his
hanging cock. He found he could ignore the pains of penetration and of the
friction on his inner wall.  He was helped by occasional sharp slaps on his
flanks.  He remembered how the Rothenian boys had done it to each other,
and now he thought he knew why.  He found himself making the same gasping
pants and whining moans that Marc Bennett did when he was being fucked.
Somehow that intensified his pleasure.  Harry's hairy abdomen was slick
with sweat on his back.
  Finally Harry gave a deep thrust into him, and held it.  He gasped.  'Sit
back on my lap as I move off you, Will,' he ordered.
  Will did, and found himself squatting back on Harry, his dick filling him
up to the top of his rectum.  Will burst out, 'Aw, this is it.  This is
good.'  It was beyond good.  He pushed his head back onto his lover's
shoulder in abandon and ecstasy.  Harry kissed his cheek.
  'You're a babe, Will.  Just like I knew you'd be.'
  'Am I good?'
  'You're tight, hot and fantastic.  You're loving this, and that makes it
all worthwhile.  Kid, you have real promise. The time you've wasted up till
now, the good sex you could have had.'  Harry's hands were exploring his
chest and pubic region.  Finally his fingers wrapped round Will's half
erect penis.  Will looked down.  'What's that?'  he asked.
  Harry chuckled, 'That's your prostate telling you how much it likes what
I'm doing to it.  It's your precum leaking out.'
  'But it doesn't do it when I wank.'
  'You're the sort that needs the extra anal stimulation, Will.  If we have
time, I can make you squirt without help from your hand, though it may take
a few times.  It's an anal orgasm.'
  'I'd like that.'
  'I'm surprised you haven't come already.'
  'Er ... I've been wanking a lot lately.'
  'Rothenian boys?'
  'How did you know?'
  'I checked out your DVD player.  Tell you what.  Let's put it on now.'
  Will was reluctant. 'No.  Some other time, maybe.'  Strangely, he found
himself unwilling to share his fantasies about Marc Bennett.  Odd, because
there could be no sexual barriers between him and Harry Baxter any more.
  Harry chuckled.  'OK then babe.  Let's go for closure, like the good
lawyer I am.'  He pushed up with his groin and Will moved up with him, and
back on to the sofa.  Harry began beating faster and harder into him with
serious thrusts that made him grunt and gasp louder and louder.  Harry too
was gasping hard.  He felt Harry's hands checking the tightness of his
balls.  'Here we go!' he yelled.  He began wanking Will hard and his orgasm
boiled up in him.  He yelled as five creditable pulses of sperm spurted out
of him on to the sofa cushions and his left thigh.  At the same time he
felt the stickiness and sudden lubrication as Harry shot his load deep
inside him.  Harry gave one long thrust that pushed them both off the sofa
and flat on the ground, Harry pinning him in the ecstasy of his
ejaculation.
  'Oh my God ... my God.  Will, you're unbelievable.  What a babe you are.'
  Will gasped, sweat dripping in his eyes.  'Thanks, Harry.  You're pretty
fantastic yourself.  ... Thanks for taking my virginity, and so nicely
too.'
  'Literally kid, it was my pleasure.'