Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Great And The Good At Play ; by (c) Hamilton Joyce Mm

   Sir Hubert Todhunter put his glass down and switched on the tv.  Sky
News came up as usual...  it was seldom tuned anywhere else.  He sat down
and watched with interest the main item, The Hammersmith report on male
prostitution, had been published.  There was not much detail (unsuitable
for family viewing he guessed, with a smile.) But interestingly he
recognised Lord Hammersmith as Jacob Ponson, his old school chum.

   On an impulse he looked him up in the directory, and gave him a call.

   Lunch was arranged at his club, tomorrow.

   'Ponson!' he thought.  'Bubbles we called him, after the cherub in the
Pears soap adverts.' He was pretty then, but didn't look to bad now. 
Clearly he was not embarrassed by any memory their juvenile games or he
would not have accepted a lunch invit out of the blue.

   He thought about their fun together those years ago, Prep School and
then six years in the Boarding School.  His cock hardened at the memory. 
He put his glass down, unzipped, and switched on the dvd player.  Fast
forward.  Ah!  Here it was.  A real treat this.  The middle-aged banker (?)
perhaps lawyer (?) had the boy naked in the railway carriage now, and had
seduced him into a satisfying erection.  Now he would suck the lad off. 
Then he would fuck him, as the train rattled through country stations.  Sir
Hubert would time his cum for the older man's cry of triumph as he pumped
his cum into that virgin arse.

   ....................................................................

   The lunch went well.  Over a cigar and a few brandies they reminisced.

   'You know, Tiger, I often think about those days.  I may call you
Tiger?'

   'Of course ...  Bubbles?'

   They both laughed.  'You know, Bubbles, since Clarissa died I've thought
more and more about the fun we had, and the other boys....'

   'Me, too, Hubert ....  Tiger.  My Fiona died three years ago, and since
then my only sex has been of the male variety.'

   'You still practice then?  I've been thinking I should.  Expect your
work on Male Prostitution thrust you into the midst of it, as it were?  Bit
of luck, really.  I mean gave you an interest in life ...  after your loss
I mean.' He gave a long pull on his cigar and exhaled a plume of smoke as
they meditated on this observation.

   'You know, Tiger, I'm free now, and so are you.  Why not come down and
stay at my place in the country for a week or so?'

   ....................................................................

   The house and estate could not have been bought on the earnings of even
a successful Barrister, as Jacob Ponson certainly had been.  Clearly, like
his own Fiona, Clarissa had brought wealth to her marriage.  They had
strolled through an ornate garden in the Italian style, through some
vegetable gardens, hothouses, and a heated Orangerie, and then to a tall,
ancient brick wall.  The worn, green-painted door opened easily.

   They walked through into a large walled garden, secluded behind its ten
feet tall walls.  It was empty, merely a lush green lawn, with a small
wooden 'summer house', much like a village cricket pavilion , and one huge
and gnarled oak tree.

   The key hanging beside the door was at least six inches long, black
iron, medieval in appearance.  But it turned smoothly in the lock, and
Ponson hung it up again beside the door frame.

   'I have it oiled regularly.  Clarissa and I used to sunbathe here.  So
good to be completely private, and yet have the pleasure of the open air.'

   'I so agree, Bubbles.  In fact it would be pleasant to sunbathe now. 
If, perhaps a bit hot.'

   'Under the oak tree, the, Tiger.  Or perhaps in the pavilion?  I have a
comfortable bed installed there.'

   'The bed it is, Bubbles.'

   They were both still a bit nervous, and that was probably why they lay
on the old four-poster bed fully clothed.

   'You're right, Tiger.  I did write a lot of that report from personal
experience ...  hypocritical really.'

   'We all have to be hypocrites, Bubbles.  Where would I be if I admitted
publicly that I not only liked young lads but actually went out of my way
to find them, buy them and have them?'

   'In the deepest shit, Tiger.  That's where you'd be.  And me too.  You
know I had one last night, a real beauty.  Works in a brothel not far from
here.  Barchester...'

   'I thought your report had put the kibosh on all those brothels.'

   'Only the bad ones, Tiger.  The good ones we just kept quiet about.  I
picked my team carefully, and they all like a bit of rough, some male, some
female, some even both.'

   'Like you and me, eh?  Although actually I prefer a bit of cock
nowadays. You still like to kiss?'

   'Mm.'

   'Come here then!'

   We must remember it was nearly forty years since they had kissed each
other after lights-out in the school dormitory, so although the passion
they found surprised them both it need not surprise us.  'Absence makes the
heart grow fonder!' And within seconds hands were groping, feeling for
their partner's cock.  It was quite like old times, and the inhibitions
were stripped away as hands remembered familiar contours, tongues met, and
limbs intertwined.

   'Naked!'

   'Oh yes.  Naked, Tiger.'

   Clothes were torn off in the haste of passion, and tipped onto the
wooden floor.  Now the two middle-aged men were laying together, stark
naked, first one on top, then rolling over so the other was on top. 
Side-by-side they fumbled and fondled, kissed, caressed, felt.  There were
no words except occasional muffled endearments and oaths.  Finally they
came up for air.

   'You've still got a lovely body, Bubbles.'

   'I look after it, Tiger.  Just enough exercise to keep trim, not enough
to get muscles.  Not like you.  You always were muscled.  I love that in a
man.'

   'You're my type, Bubbles.  Still smooth and boyish.  Like we used to. 
Remember.'

   'Oh yes, Tiger.  Kneeling.'

   'That really does look tasty!'

   Lord Hammersmith knelt and Sir Hubert parted his cheeks, and kissed the
spot.  It was still delightful, a little puckered piny-brown ring.  He
kissed again, licked and slipped his tongue in.  The white arse wriggled,
and jutted back towards him, inviting more penetration.

   'You still rim divinely, Tiger.'

   'Jesus!  I want your arse, Bubbles.'

   'There's some lube under the mattress by the bedhead.'

   Sir Hubert applied the lube copiously, covering the arse crease,
finger-fucking it gently into that much-fantasised about anus.  What a pity
they'd lost touch over the years.  He greased his own cock, which shone in
the summer sunlight.  The arse in front of him jutted even further back,
accentuating its roundness.  It wriggled invitingly.  He placed his knob
and pushed gently.  The knob entered.

   'Gently, Tiger.  You're not fucking a woman!'

   But Sir Hubert would not be denied, and with steady pressure won inch
after inch until his hairy thighs were pressed against that firm, white
bottom.  He held the kneeling victim in place, a hand on each hips.

   'Oh!  That's good now, Tiger.  God!  You've a lovely big prick!  Now!'
They fucked, slow and long at first, and then with short, sharp, rapid
thrusts.  Sir Hubert was aware of Hammersmith wanking away at his cock
underneath him.

   'Don't you come, Bubbles.  I want that in my mouth after this!'

   'Ooooh!' Was the groan of pleasure the thought of shooting his load into
his partner's mouth, or was it Tiger now 'hitting the spot' with his
thrusts?  Whatever, Tiger was smashing his thighs against that arse with
each rapid thrust now, and with his right hand slapping the white flesh in
rhythm with his fucking.

   'Now, Bubbles!  Now!' The release of the orgasm was immense.  He had not
felt a cum of that strength since those days at school, or perhaps in the
first year of his marriage.  (He had been a virgin on his wedding night. 
Virgin with women, that is!)

   He pulled out, and turned Bubbles over on his back.  That familiar
cock...it had not changed at all, still small, straight, white with a
bright red knob...stood for him.  He knelt and closed his lips on it. 
Bubbles raised his hips for penetration, and the shaft entered completely,
his lips touching the light pubic fluff, still blonde.  He sucked and
fluttered his tongue over the shaft, while Bubbles fucked his mouth,
jerking hips up and down.  He could see that pale face becoming flushed. 
Eyes closed.  A grimace almost of pain.  And then the rush of cum, spurting
into his mouth.  He swallowed.  It was like the old days.  Gradually the
jerking hips steadied, and he lay beside, a kiss on that brow.

   'Thankyou, Bubbles.  That was lovely.'

   'Thank you, Tiger.  You've lost nothing over the years.  Just like old
times.'

   They strolled naked in the sun, smoking and chatting.

   'Brothel in Barchester, you said.'

   'Good one.  Expensive but good.'

   'All male?'

   'Mm.  They have a female branch other end of the town.  This is all
male. Boys and young lads.  Some professional, some part-time.'

   'We should look them up, Bubbles.'

   'I agree, Tiger.  Nice cigar this, by the way.  Yes, we should.  What
will you be looking for?'

   'As much as possible like you were at fourteen, Bubbles.  Blonde,
slender, lithe, and randy as hell!  I was so in love with you, infatuated.'

   'And I was a tart who just wanted every good-looking boy.  Poor Tiger.
You must have suffered.'

   I was so jealous.  But there wasn't much I could do.  And you did let me
fuck and suck you sometimes.'

   'I was a busy little boy.  So many lovers!' He laughed depreciatingly.

   'What will you have from the brothel, Bubbles?'

   'You remember that boy Winston McDonald?'

   'Big Jamaican lad, rugby forward?'

   'The very one.  I used to enjoy him.  You're big, Tiger, always were. 
But he's huge!  I've seen a lot of cock, but not many like that.  I
certainly knew he was in me when we fucked.  Well, there's a boy, oddly
also called Winston, in the brothel that I fancy having.  Mainly because
he's big, though he is a handsome lad.'

   'Let's find a little blonde for me, and a huge Jamaican for you, bring
them back here for a picnic on the lawns and then a night of fun!'

   'It'll cost, you know, Tiger.  Full twenty four hours is a grand each
boy!  I told you its a good brothel!'

   'I'm not hard up.  My late wife was very wealthy.'

   'Mine too.  Wonder what she'd think if she knew what I'm doing with it.'

   .............................................................

   The brothel was a regency town house in the best square in Barchester.
The house was quiet this Saturday morning, but as the effusive and very
camp brothel-keeper welcomed them ...  he knew Lord Hammersmith well,
obviously, and was introduced to Sir Hubert as 'my good friend Tiger .....
they could hear the click of billiard balls in the next room.

   It was a large, high-ceilinged room, the sort that might have been an
important reception room in its better days, or perhaps the billiard room
or library.  Two Boys were playing pool.  One of them was reaching over the
table, and the thin, blue cotton of his Bermuda shorts was stretched tight
over a very tempting arse.  He was well-built, and his thighs filled the
shorts very satisfactorily.  The other boy must have been Bubbles favourite
by the way he approached the newcomers, his mouth in a wonderful, happy
smile.  And the bulge in his shorts suggested hidden treasures hinted at by
Bubbles earlier.

   I was introduced to Winston, but left them to their discussion about the
deal.  Bubbles was going to pay the whole cost for this session, and Tiger
would pick up the next.

   He looked round the room.  Two boys were watching the television, arms
round each other's shoulders.  The film was a hard-porn epic of two lads
shagging.  The boys both had a latino, or perhaps arab looks.  Attractive
but not exactly his type.  Three lads were reading magazines.  They had
looked up when he came in, but then down again.  Sensible, as all three had
that street-wise, thuggish appearance that he distinctly dislike.  (Despite
his nickname at school all those years ago, he was not very brave, and
really was afraid of that tough, rough type).  Then he walked into the
room.

   He was blonde, quite short, and seemed very young.  A mass of golden
curls, very feminine complexion, peaches and cream, full red, passionate
lips, and a welcoming smile as his eyes met Sir Hubert's.  This was the boy
for him!  He might have bee Bubbles at fourteen all those years ago.  And
he had on a school blazer and grey flannel short trousers, that Sir Hubert
recognised as the uniform of Barchester Grammar School.  This was almost
too good to be true.

   They shook hands, and Sir Hubert did not let go of that soft, young hand
as they talked.

   'Simon, sir.'

   'I'm called Tiger.  I want you, Simon.  I expect you know what for?'

   I guess I do, Tiger.  There's only really three or four things, isn't
there.  all the rest are just different ways of doing them.'

   'You're a clever lad, Simon.  As well as being so very, very sexy.  And
to start with at any rate there's only two things I want.'

   'Let me guess, Tiger.  You want to suck me off, and then fuck me.'

   'How did you know.'

   'Well, if you'd wanted me to suck you and fuck you, then you'd have gone
for a bigger boy.  Like your friend with Winston.'

   We both looked across the room, me following the blonde boy's eyes. 
Winston and Bubbles seemed likely to cum as they stood there, embracing,
kissing and fondling.  Bubbles had his hand down inside those Bermuda
shorts!

   'Well you're exactly right.  And I want you to come to our place and
stay till the morning so we can really get it together.'

   'I'll have to phone my mother.  she thinks I spend Saturday and Sunday
with my friend Rodney, fishing or cycling in the hills on our mountain
bikes.  I'll tell her I'm sleeping over his place.'

   'So you really are a Grammar School boy, Simon?'

   He nodded.

   'How old?'

   'Sixteen of course.'

   'But if you whisper in my ear, and I keep it secret, how old really?'

   'Fourteen.  But it's better for you not to know, according to Mr
Wadsworth.'

   'I don't.  Officially sixteen then.  And very nice too.'

   ....................................................

   Bubbles settled up with the pimp, and Tiger drove, young Simon sitting
beside him.  From the back seat a packet was passed forward.

   'Take one of these each.'

   'What is it?

   'Viagra.'

   They both swallowed the blue pill.

   ...........................................................

   The customary stroll through the impressive grounds, and the well-oiled
lock into the secret garden.  A white tablecloth had been laid out in the
shade of the great tree, with food, drink, glasses, plates.  Beside it two
inflated lilo beds, covered with white satin sheets.

   Tiger raised an enquiring eyebrow towards Bubbles.

   'My butler, Hobsbawm.  I've no secrets from him.  He was my father's
butler too.  In fact he was the first to have me.  I was very young!  It
was before you fucked me, Tiger.'

   Bubbles and his black lad lay on one of the air-beds.  Tiger stood,
embracing his young blonde.  As they kissed, he slipped his hand up under
the school blazer, and was massaging a strong, young back through the crisp
white shirt.  The boy's tongue slipped into his mouth : of course, this was
no novice!  tiger pulled the shirt out from the waistband, and his hand was
on the naked back now.  He stroked and caressed, his tongue forcing its way
into the boy's mouth.

   They both came up for air.  'Lord!  I want you, Simon.'

   The boy laughed.  'I can feel that, Tiger.' His hand slid between them
and gripped a hard prick, defined clearly despite the woolen trousers.  He
leaned them both towards the empty bed, and they, still embracing,
collapsed onto it.  Sir Hubert found he could slip his hand up the leg of
the boy's shorts, and feel around there.  He was wearing cotton underpants.
The questing hand found a route around them, and rested on a small, hard
cock.  He sighed.  'Lovely!  Lovely!'

   The boy was fumbling at the man's flies now, looking for the zip.  He
found it, and his hand, too was inside, fumbling for a way into the boxer
shorts beneath.  It rested on a hard cock.

   'Naked, boy.  Naked now.' As he undressed his eye wandered from the
entrancing form being unveiled before him, as Simon slowly stripped,
wandered over to Bubbles and his Winston.  White and brown flesh
intertwined, embraces, whisperings, kisses.  They could not have been more
passionate had they been bride and groom on the wedding night, he thought.

   Both of them were naked now, laying side-by-side.  He looked a moment at
the slender, proportioned body, with its small, straight, pretty cock, with
its pink helmet, standing for him.  The boy was smiling , confident in his
beauty, pleased with the effect he was having on the older man.  OK, they
had taken viagra, but the guy's erection was impressive!

   That lovely little cock just begged for attention.  Sir Hubert knelt,
leaned over, and closed his lips round the knob.  It twitched , and he
slipped his mouth over, down the shaft till his face rested on the almost
naked belly.  There was, as yet, only the lightest of blonde fuzz at the
root of his cock.  He moved his mouth slowly, luxuriously up and down the
shaft.  The boy groaned in pleasure.  Sir Hubert stroked that white and
so-naked, hairless flesh, the belly so firm under the soft, smooth skin,
the hairless chest, tweaking nipples, rolling them between fingers and
thumbs.  The boy had managed to reach his seducer's prick with one hand,
and was stroking it, softly.

   Beside them, six feet away , Sir Hubert was aware the other couple had
moved on more quickly, more urgently.  Bubbles was flat on his back, his
legs bent high over his shoulders.  The black boy was servicing that
arsehole now so open and bare for him.  Sir Hubert watched as the long
ebony shaft reamed in and out.  The look on his friends face was almost one
of pain, but that it was in fact almost intolerable pleasure was clear from
his hard cock, which he was masturbating as he was fucked.

   He lay beside Simon again.  he wanted that arse now.  He pulled the boy
on top of him and prised the legs open.  The arse was inches from his face,
the thighs so white and smooth, and in the deep cleft that pink-brown,
puckered rose.  He kissed it, licked, and slipped his tongue into it.  He
was rewarded by a wriggle of the boy's hips as he tried to force the tongue
further in.  He could feel the boy's cock, still hard, but was caressing
his buttocks and back now.

   Hobsbawm had left two little spray-bottles containing oil.  One was in
use close by.  Sir Hubert took the other, turned the boy over on his belly,
and sprayed a few drops into that inviting crease.  He lay again beside
him, and as they kissed inserted a finger up his oiled arse.  Simon
giggled. 'I love that.' Two fingers now.  'That's even nicer!' In and out,
finger fucking.  'And that's nicer still.'

   They kissed, Sir Hubert masturbating a willing anus, the boy stroking
his partner's cock.

   'I want to fuck you, Simon.'

   'Please!'

   Beside them, the couple were reaching a climax.  Winston was fucking
hard and furious.  Sir Hubert realised, with a pang, that he had never
fucked Bubbles as hard as that.  It was as if the black boy was fucking a
woman.  Sir Hubert knew you just could not fuck a woman too hard : they
were built for it after all.  But this was an eye-opener for him.  From now
on, Bubbles would get it with all the vigour his Tiger could muster! 
Bubbles head was lolling, his eyes rolling as if in a daze.  And his hand
wanked his own cock furiously.  Then that black shaft was pulled completely
out, leaving a gaping, red, open hole behind it.  The black fist jerked
hard at it and there was a sudden, incredibly poweful spurt.  It flew
straight along Bubbles' supine body and splatted, a streak of white cream
from chin, across eyes, to forehead and hair.  The hand still worked away.
Another great, parallel squirt, and a streak from nipple across the chest,
and over the chin and mouth.  And a third, from the belly button, to the
chest.  Then Bubbles came, his cum mingling with that on his face, and the
second spurt over his belly and chest.  They were still jerking, but the
cum was now a gentle ooze from both pricks.

   Tiger turned his attention again to the boy kneeling for him.  He parted
the cheeks, positioned his knob against the anus, and gently pushed.  The
boy gave that usual involuntary flinch as the knob penetrated and the anus
closed again on the shaft.  Then, Hands grasping the boy's slender hips, he
forced it home.  In, in and in till his hairy thighs touched that smooth
skin.  The boy sighed.  'Now, Tiger.  Now.'

   Slow at first.  but increasing in speed all the time, Tiger shagged him.
He forgot everything as the delights of forty years ago came back to him.
He had fucked men and twinks over the years, but never a boy like this, not
since those never-to-be-forgotten school days.  You can hardly blame him
for coming far too soon, and the biggest, most balls-draining cum in years,
as he emptied his pent up cum deep into the boy.

   Simon still had not come.  But for the moment, his partner was
satisfied. It was, anyway, pleasant to watch the boy with that unsatisfied
erection.  It was also pleasant to see how they attacked the picnic the
butler had laid out!

   The boys had wandered off to the old pavilion and found a football.  The
GreatAndTheGood lounged back, smoking good cigars, and sipping champagne.

   'It must have been like this in classical times, Bubbles.  Men and boys
paying homage to the gods in some sacred grove, fucking each other, eating,
drinking.'

   'Religions gone down hill since then, Tiger.  Not much arse-fucking in
church nowadays!'

   'Oh!  I don't know, Bubbles.  Lots of stories about priests and
choirboys, confirmation classes.  You know...'

   'OK.  But how much better in the open, public, and a religious duty! 
Good cigars these!'

   'I import them myself from Cuba.  I like the dark, strong ones.'

   'So do I, and especially if they're hung like that boy Winston.  You
should try it sometime, Tiger.  You never were one for being fucked, were
you?'

   'I was fucked at school of course, often.  Like we all were.  But since,
I've preferred top be on top!  But perhaps I will try it.  I'd certainly
like that lovely cock in my mouth!'

   'Look at the boys play.  Like puppies!'

   They had been kicking the ball around, running and dribbling.  They were
so beautiful, naked, cocks jigging about.  Then a clumsy tackle, and they
fell over together.  It became a wrestling game.  They wriggled, wrestled,
black limbs between white, white arms grasping at black.  Then Simon was on
top of Winston (presumably because the bigger boy let him).  He ground his
arse, so recently fucked, into the black boy's face.  They were not
wrestling now, and it looked as if Simon was being given a good rimming. 
He was hard again.  Winston tipped him off, and was on top of the white boy
now, rubbing his arse into Simon's face.  demanding his own rimming.  He
was hard as well.  And what a sight that was!

   'I'm ready for some more, Tiger.  Though not in the arse for a bit. 
That boy's big!  I wonder if it's closed yet.'

   'Let's see, Bubbles.  Yes, it's shut again, but looks rather red.'

   'Not surprised.  Not had a seeing to like that since I left the army!'

   The boys came back, panting from exertion, glowing with the fitness of
youth, laughing together.  Winston knelt and took Bubbles' half-hard cock
in his mouth.  Tiger seized his opportunity, and knelt beside him licking
his balls and erect shaft.  The great, purple plum of his knob looked
almost too big, but it slipped easily between his lips.  The boy jerked his
muscular hips and his cock slid it to its full length, making tiger gag as
it touched the back of his throat.  The discomfort was momentary, though,
and he found he could accommodate even that massive weapon as his mouth was
shagged.

   Simon was complaining.  'Not fair.  I'm the only one who hasn't come.

   Tiger left Bubbles to enjoy what was now a sixtynine with his favourite,
and knelt in front of the blonde.  No size queen, he actually preferred
this small, wiry prick in his mouth.  He could move it about from cheek to
cheek, caressing it with his tongue.  He grasped the boy, a hand on each
buttock, and pulled him onto himself, cock deep in his throat.  The light
blonde fluff of his pubes was so exciting, with its male perfume.  Simon
was fucking him in his mouth now, and all he had to do was make sure he
kept up the suction, his cheeks hollowed in the effort.  And, of course,
his tongue playing little games up and down the shaft.

   He could taste precum, and redoubled his efforts to pleasure the boy. 
He slipped a finger into the crease, behind, and let it penetrate that
willing anus.  The boy groaned, and was fucking harder now.  Then his mouth
was filled with the boy's cum.  he was surprised at the flow, but realised
the lad had been hard, teased, fucked, for two hours now, and was ready to
release every drop.  He swallowed, and enjoyed the feel of that slender
cock twitching in his mouth.

   .........................................................

   Hobsbawm had not been in the slightest surprised when he had served
their dinner to the four naked males, and if he brushed occasionally
against a naked thigh, well that was only to be expected in a retainer who
had 'served' three generations of the family, male and female!

   After dinner they retired to the billiard room, where a porn movie was
running.  The two men watched from time to time at the better parts of the
film.  They certainly watched the key episode where the charcoal-suited,
silver-haired gentleman seduced the boy in a railway carriage as their
train sped through the countryside.

   The boys were playing snooker in a desultory fashion, and frankly their
hard, slender, naked arses as they bent and stretched over the table were
much more interesting than the video!

   'Lovely arse, your boy, Tiger.'

   'Mmmm.  He's hard, too.'

   'Don't you ever get yourself fucked.'

   'Never really fancied it.  Doubt if I could take that black monster!'

   'Don't know what you're missing.  Why not have young Simon fuck you. 
That certainly wouldn't hurt.  I'd bet on it you'd enjoy it.  Hey, Simon,
come over here a minute.'

   'I'm not sure about this...'

   'You must have been fucked when you were a schoolboy.  You had to be
fairly ugly to miss out on that.'

   'I was.  Didn't like it mostly.'

   'Mostly?'

   'Well, it was good with one or two of them.'

   'But not Hadleigh!'

   'Jesus, no.  He hurt.  I'll never forget that night.'

   'I'm not surprised.  The boys called him Goliath.  He was bigger than
Jason over there.  God!  Look at that lovely black body.  Hey, Jason, come
and watch this.  Tiger's going to get himself fucked for the first time in
forty years.'

   'I'm not at all sure, Bubbles.'

   'Here.  Brace yourself against the back of the chair.  Now some lube. 
Don't tell me that isn't good.'

   'That's nice.  But your finger is not as big as a cock.'

   'My thumb, actually, Tiger.  And a finger.  That good.'

   'It's good.'

   'Now you, Simon.  Here, I'll place it for you.  Now, easy, softly,
softly.  This is not one of your experienced arses.  Good.  That's good. 
OK Tiger?' 'Feels full already.  Still nice though.'

   'He's good this boy.  Now right in.  Yes.  that's it.  He's right up
you, Tiger.'

   'Feels good.  Fuck me a bit, boy.  Oh!  Easy.  Oh yes, that's good. 
More now.  Yes.  Yes.  Jesus!  Give it me Simon.  Oh yes, hard like that.
Fuck, I'm going to cum.  Yes harder.  Oh fuck.  Oh bugger.  I forgot.  Did
you wear a rubber?'

   'Of course!.'

   We'll have another like that before you leave in the morning.....

  
...........................................................................
......

   'Sorry to see them go.  Not enjoyed a night like that for years.'

   'Thailand.'

   'Thailand?'

   'I went there last autumn after wife died.  Not enjoyed myself like last
night since then.'

   'Little boys, eh?'

   'That and the ladygirls.  You should come with me, Bubbles.  I'm
thinking of going again in September.'

   'OK.  But then you come with me to California on the way back.'

   'Bronzed beach gods?'

   'That and the big, muscular black boys.'

   'You dog!  OK it's a deal.'

  
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