Date: Sat, 10 Mar 2001 17:16:34 -0000 From: Philip Burbidge <philip255@hotmail.com> Subject: The English Boy 26 (Gay incest: M/t ) My apologies for mis-numbering the previous chapter. It should have been 25 not 26, so you haven't missed a chapter! Like previous chapters, this is a story of pure invention, an adult's fantasy for adults reflecting the author's fantasy of regressing back to adolescence with the sexual experience and knowledge accrued as an adult. Real young teenagers do not think and act as I depict them in the stories. It is emphatically not the author's intention to incite, commend or promote incest or sex with minors which can cause life-long damage. If such material is likely to offend your sensibilities, is illegal where you live, or you are yourself under age, do not read further. I welcome comments, observations and suggestions to which I will gladly reply, especially from those who have similar tastes. philip255@hotmail.com Chapter 26 'A Land of Pure Delight!' Hamsa and I were awakened early the following morning, not with hard daddy-cocks nudging our twitching boy-cunts, but with a shake and a small cup of thick black coffee. We dragged ourselves drowsily off to the shower and had a quick breakfast before throwing a few clothes into a suitcase. We were to stay overnight in Zagora. The intercom announced the arrival of the car and driver that Rachid had ordered. We took the lift down to the street and trotted out into the early morning sunshine. It was already thronging with people on their way to work, but pleasantly cool. The temperature would rise quickly and dad wanted us to get on the road before the heat of the day became too intense - and get us to Zagora before nightfall. We were somewhat surprised by the car. It was an old, but well-cared for limousine, with masses of space in the back and rather threadbare curtains in all the rear windows. It looked like some relic from a 1960s gangster movie. The driver was obviously very proud of it. He was a heavily built man of around 40 with the mandatory black moustache. His crisp white shirt exposed dark, hairy arms and the open neck showed a good crop of chest hair. With him was a younger man or youth in his mid teens. The driver approached Rachid and asked if it was okay for his son to accompany us. The driver's family came from Zagora and it was a rare opportunity for him and the lad to visit their family in the south. They would be staying over with them, if that was alright with my dad. Rachid translated all this and my father gave his consent. There was no shortage of room in the car. Dad, Rachid, Hamsa and I climbed in the back and made ourselves comfortable. The driver had smiled and winked at me as he slammed the door behind me. I could have sworn he stroked my arse as I bent over to get in. His son gazed at me - not used to pasty-faced westerners, I thought. Then he and his father got in the front and we set off. Me and Hamsa sat between dad and Rachid on the long, soft leather seat. No safety-belts in a venerable old antique like this one. But it was a comfortable ride and we were soon gliding through the bustling streets, the object of much local curiosity. We boys fell asleep as we sped through the suburbs, leaning on our fathers' shoulders. We awoke a couple of hours later. The sun was hot but the air conditioning, though primitive, brought some relief. We were driving through barren, rocky terrain with the occasional solitary gaunt tree and patches of scrub. Pink and white oleanders nestled in dry gullies providing a splash of colour. An hour or so later, dad ordered the driver to stop for a break, and he pulled off the road under a low cliff that afforded some protection from the fierce heat. We drank mineral water and ate some fruit. All the time, the driver's eyes were on me, and I noticed my dad's eyes were on his son. We all took turns to nip behind a rock for a piss. The driver followed me and played suggestively with his zip and groin as we passed each other. He winked again, and raised his eye-brows. I blushed coyly! Fifteen minutes later, we were on the road again. We were making good progress but the road surface deteriorated as we travelled south, further from the capital. The desert scenery became monotonous and I was getting restless and bored. Dad put his arm round me and started stroking my hair. Then he slipped his other hand under my shorts and started playing with my cock which quickly stood to attention. 'Dad!' I protested, 'The driver will see you through the mirror!' 'I know, and I think he'll enjoy what he sees!' replied dad with a wicked smile. Rachid followed dad's example and started fondling Hamsa who was seated next to me. Dad then pushed me on to the floor between his legs and pulled my shorts down to my ankles. He then forced me back on to my knees Rachid quickly did the same to Hamsa and the view in the driver's rear-view mirror showed two perfectly formed little boy butts: one brown; one white. The car began to weave slightly on the road. After swerving rather dangerously on to the opposite carriageway, dad suggested the driver stop and join us in the back, if he would care to. We screached to a halt a couple of hundred meters further on, where a track left the road and made an arc some 400 meters long after which it rejoined the road. An untidy hedge of grey- leaved bushes provided an inadequate screen from the road, their leaves dulled by a fine covering of sand. As soon as he had parked, the driver leapt out of his seat and joined us in the back. He climbed in on my dad's side, behind me, massaging his expanding crotch. Dad told Rachid to tell him he was welcome to sample a tight, young English boy-cunt, if he liked. He showed no sign of being inhibited by his son's presence. His son was more reticent. He gingerly opened the door on Rachid's side and leant inside. He was confronted with Hamsa' smooth brown arse, there for the taking. Meanwhile, I had extracted my dad's cock from his trousers. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and felt it pulsate with life. Then I pulled the foreskin right back and lowered my mouth over the red mushroom head. Dad moaned as I sucked hard on his cock. He handed the driver a tube of ky and invited him to fuck me. He didn't need another invitation. 'Fuck! Fuck! Yes, I fuck!' he said gleefully in a thick accent. He then barked something to his son in Arabic, something to the effect of, "You don't get an offer like this every day. Get stuck in!" The boy jumped into the car, slammed the door behind him and began stroking Hamsa's smooth arse. I felt cold sticky fingers anoint my hole with the ky gel, and, glancing to my right, saw that Hamsa was servicing his dad's cock. The driver's son was kneeling behind him still stroking his arse but with his eyes rivetted to his father who was ostentatiously lubricating his thick hard piece of meat. The lad had obviously never seen his father's hard prick before and was mesmerised by it. He didn't have long to admire it as it soon disappeared in my rectum with a forceful thrust that made me squeak. The driver wasn't subtle. He clasped my hips in his strong hairy hands and shoved his fuck-meat up me and began a diligent, workman-like fuck, grunting loudly. Rocking back and forth as a result of his vigorous thrusting, I began jack-sucking my dad's dick. Following his father's example, the son had overcome his nerves and taken the ky when it was offered by his father. He greased up his own cock and then lubricated Hams'a boy-cunt, shoving his fingers right up the boy in his lust. It was then the father's turn to watch his son slide his cock up a tight young boy-pussy. I judged that the driver's cock was just under seven-and-a-half inches long, but thick! It pushed my arsewalls apart as it travelled up inside me. His son's cock was about the same length but not quite as thick. But quite big enough for Hamsa who wasn't as used to being fucked by big-daddy cocks as I was. 'Good boys, take those juicy big Arab dicks up you!' said dad, with Rachid translating. 'Give them a good fucking, boys. These two young'uns just love rough, horny cock! So give it to them!', dad added, to be translated to the driver and his son. The two fuckers grunted, sweated and swore their approval as they shagged us. 'Tight young boy-cunts! Built to take it!' We'll fuck them good! This is what they're good for; this is what they need!'' they responded, panting and slapping our arse cheeks. They were obviously enjoying themselves and getting an extra kick out of watching each other - father and son - fucking side by side. I felt the big cock inside me jump and knew the driver was about to spunk. I grasped his prick with my arse muscles and he yelled out. Instantly, thick ropes of Arab-daddy spunk was being shot deep inside me. The sight of his father cumming triggered his son's orgasm. He rammed his prick right up Hamsa's arse, and with a loud gasp fired his spunk-gun in the young boy's bowels. Our father's looked on with pride and lust. 'That's it, boy's, take your medecine. Take that creamy Arab spunk!' growled dad, building up to his own spunk-up. 'Just look at those thick, steaming pricks!' he said as father and son pulled their spent dicks out of our arses. There horny reveries were suddenly interrupted. Just as the withdrawing cockheads popped out through our arse-rings, the car doors cracked open. One on each side. We froze and there was a sharp intake of breath from us all. Through the cracks in the open doors, pistol barrels appeared. 'Oh shit!' muttered dad, as the cracks widened and two stern faces peered in. Both sported peaked, military caps, with the ubiquitous black moustaches, but neatly trimmed this time, and powerful hands grasping guns pointed in our direction. We daren't move. But as the doors widened, they revealed two men in smart, well-pressed beige uniforms, short-sleaved shirts with epoulettes and slacks sealed with leather belts. The one next to me was the elder of the two, perhaps 35 years old or so. His expression mellowed into a wide smile showing strong, white teeth. He said something to his colleague, some ten years his junior. They were both lean and muscular. 'Looks like we've hit the jack-pot', Rachid softly translated the senior officers comment. The senior officer spoke sharply to the driver who quickly stuffed his wilting cock back in his pants and shuffled out of the way. His son, shaking with fear, did the same. The policemen could be in no doubt as to what had happened: two glistening, spunky spent cocks hovering over two young boys' well-buggered arseholes. The driver and his son scuttled out of the car, and the two policemen took their places behind us. 'Our turn for some boy-fucking! Nice, tight, young western boy-cunt!' said the older man, smacking his lips - Rachid translating under his breath. With no more ado, he whipped out his dick. He teased my arsehole twice to test the ground and then in a single motion he ran the fucker up me. I squawked and gobbled on my dad's dick to take away the discomfort of his assault. 'Ha! Take big Arab cock, boy-whore! This your dad? Then suck his cock, suck it good. I've never seen a white boy suck his dad's dick. Do it! It turns me on!' As Rachid translated this, dad visibly relaxed and his cock hardened. The officer forced my head down hard on my dad's dick and I gagged. Hamsa was getting the same treatment, judging by the grunts and squawks coming from my right. 'Let's fuck the little cock-loving bitches! Let's show their daddies how to fuck!' the younger officer added, getting into the mood. In no time at all, we were receiving a good, hard arse- pounding, as the two policemen egged each other odd. The driver and his son crept back and watched lustfully through the window. Having recovered from the shock, my dad and Rachid were thoroughly aroused watching their boys being raped by two handsome, horny, big-cocked policemen. My policemen had a cock similar to the driver's; perhaps slightly shorter but may be even thicker. It really made me wince as I was forced to take it right up to the hilt, lubricated by the driver's own spunk. I could feel his low-slung balls slapping against my arsecheeks and wanked my own dick hard to distract me as I kept on jack-sucking dad's dick. Suddenly a felt dad tense. 'I'm cumming, son, I'm fucking cumming. Suck that cop's dick and make me fucking spunk!' I did as I was told and was rewarded with a fountain of dad's cum. It erupted just as I lifted my mouth off it for a moment, so spunk splashed all over my face. I clamped my mouth over it agains double-quick so as not to lose anymore. The policeman fucking me saw dad shoot and it almost blow his mind. Watching me lapping up my father's spunk catapulted him into the strongest orgasm he had had for years. He bucked as he fucked his own spunk up me, his writhing, spasming body contorting with the effort of satisfying his perverted lust. Thrilled and shocked at the violent reaction of his senior officer, the younger policeman let rip up Hamsa's arse with much swearing, cursing and slapping. Rachid mad his contribution by cumming down his son's throat making him gag. Soon both our ravaged boy-cunts were pumped full of man- cum. The two policmen withdrew their cocks as perfunctorily as they had inserted them, and zipped them up back in their trousers. 'Next time, choose a more private spot for your family fucking, or you might find yourselves being arrested and dragged off to jail for a few days. There's no telling what might happen to a couple of little beauties like these two in there. A dozen sex-starved prisoners would have a field day, and that's after the officers would have had their share!' This parting piece of advice was offered by the senior officer, who climbed laughing into the patrol car that we had been too engrossed to hear. We all gave a sigh of relief, made ourselves decent and continued the journey to Zagora. Hamsa and I nursed our well-fucked boy-pussies, now so full of Arab policeman's spunk! ************************************* To be continued in Chapter 28 when Philip's dad explains the scale of his plans for a world incest centre and they meet an enthusiastic local convert!