PZA: Hartswood Priory 21

It's Saturday morning; in half an hour's time I'll be playing in my first school rugby match. Training's gone well; it feels like me and Julian have been playing together for years. It's been a good week; cancel that, it's been a bloody excellent week.

Getting into the team on Monday, sex with Will on Wednesday morning, and my first 'official' sex session with Ian after supper on Thursday. He was all over me; it's funny, he looks so innocent. If you saw him round school you'd never think he was like that. I managed to get my finger in up to the second knuckle. He's still very tight though; it's going to be quite some time before I'll be able to bum him.

Mr. Cooper hands me a brand new school rugby shirt, white with alternating blue and black hoops. Mine has the number '9' sewn on the back.

I look at it with a feeling of pride. I've worked bloody hard to get it, now I've got to make sure that I hang onto it right until the end of the season. I slip it on; it fits perfectly.

I guess that's because Mr. Cooper waits until he's picked the team before he asks Matron to sew the numbers on. This will be the first time I've played thirty minutes each way. That's a big challenge in itself.

We trot out onto the field. In our school shirts, white shorts and blue and white hooped socks, we really look like a team. We're playing St. George's; they follow us out; navy blue shorts and socks, maroon and navy hooped shirts.

This is it, my first proper fifteen a side game; my heart's thumping. Mr. Jones, our old maths teacher, is here; he's not in charge of their team, he's just come to support. He greets us as we make our way onto the pitch. He seems much friendlier than he used to; I guess that's because he doesn't have to teach us any more.

The whistle blows and we're off. The first half goes past in a blur; I'm so focussed on what I have to do that I hardly remember any of it. Our pack's bigger and stronger than theirs; we're winning a lot of possession. Julian and I are solid, doing our job, getting the ball out to the backs, setting up attacks, supporting where we can.

When we do have to defend I get stuck into that too, hurling myself into the tackles. We score two tries. Julian converts one; the other was out by the right hand touch line, a difficult one for a right footed kicker. He kicks a penalty as well.

After a short break we're back out there. The play follows much the same pattern; we're on top and we're staying on top.

Five minutes, I can hang on for five minutes; anyone can hang on for five minutes. We've got a big lead; we've got to make sure it stays that way. It feels more like five hours. Eventually the final whistle blows; we've won 34-19. We shake hands with our opponents and trudge from the field. Man! I've never been so tired in my entire life!

We're applauded by our supporters, younger kids mainly. Ian's there and Peter Cranham; the new third year kid is there too. I couldn't miss him; he's like Dominic-cute. He smiles at me. If I didn't already have Ian I'd be after him like a shot. At the very least I need to find out what his name is. We head into the changing room and strip off. The showers have never seemed more welcoming.

It's been a great morning. We won and I played well. I was struggling towards the end, but that's because I'm not used to playing for that long. The only disappointment was Will. He played terrible. He fumbled the ball when it came to him, spilled it when he got tackled, and in defence he was useless; he never completed a tackle, not one. He'll lose his place if he plays like that again. He looks really down.

Showered, dressed and feeling a bit more like myself again, I leave the changing room with several of the other boys. Apart from Will, we're all quite pleased with ourselves. A few of the supporters are hanging around outside, including the new kid. He smiles again.

He really is cute, but I've got to be careful. I've already got Ian; he's my boy. Jumping from one kid to another is not done; it causes upset, arguments, and I'm not going to give Jeremy an excuse to ban me. For the moment it's strictly look, don't touch. He'll soon find someone else in any case.

The last couple of weeks have absolutely flown past. We've had rugby training and another match, away at Alverley.

This time we were well-matched up front and so we didn't enjoy as much possession as we had in our first match. They also realised quite early on that we had a weakness on our left wing. Time and again they set up attacks down that side, with Julian and I having to sprint across to put in tackles that Will should have made.

It was a real see-saw game with the lead changing hands several times. Eventually we squeaked a win, 23-21, but it could have gone either way to be honest. Will was distraught afterwards; he knew he'd played badly. It seemed unfair to for him to be in that position.

Ian's great, and he's really into it, kissing, sucking, fondling; he loves it all. We haven't talked about me bumming him, but I can sense that he'll let me do it any time I want to. He's still very tight though. Yesterday I put a second finger in; he didn't say anything but I could tell it was hurting him. I guess I'll just have to be patient.

I've been in Will's bed a couple of times too. Man! He can't get enough of it; Jeremy, Mr. Cooper and now me and Rob. I'm certainly not objecting.

And I've been with Rob again, early Sunday morning, the same as the week before; it seems like that's going to be our time. He hasn't managed to bum Peter yet so he welcomed me with open arms. He fucked me senseless. Even though I've got Ian now, I still enjoy taking it and Rob's perfect.

And finally I've found out the name of the cute new kid in third year, Patrick Naylor. I was right about him finding someone; he's become attached to Brian Harper, who plays inside centre. It's not a bad choice; Brian's a nice looking kid, and good at both rugby and cricket, he's just a bit full of himself sometimes.

Mr. Chandler helped me develop the film that I shot at the holiday centre. It's all come out pretty well. When we put it together afterwards we were able to use a much higher proportion of what I'd filmed than we could when I first started. Filming in black and white seems pretty tame after working in colour, but it's fine to practise on.

I like Mr. Chandler a lot. He's been alone with me loads of times; he's never even said anything, you know, let alone made a move on me. So I can just relax and be myself without worrying about what he's thinking.

We've just finished rugby training. Mr. Cooper's running through the team for our next match, away to Queen Elizabeth's Grammar School. This is going to be a tough one; they've got a hundred and twenty boys in each year compared to our thirty. Will's been dropped; it just had to happen. Paz will move onto the left wing with Hugh Cameron from Upper Fourth coming in at full back. Will looks almost relieved.

"Not really," he says quietly, shaking his head. "I know I haven't played well enough. I wanted to be in the team because I knew you and Rob would get in, and Justin probably would too. We've always done stuff together; I didn't want to be left out. But I'm not good enough and I hated feeling that I'd let the other boys down."

We stroll along to the gym. The new high jump landing area has been set up at the far end.

"Mr. Cooper's had it set up in here so I can train all through the winter," Will tells me.

We make our way to prep. I can't help wondering if Mr. Cooper would have done that if he wasn't fucking Will's arse, but Will seems happy so who am I to argue?

Rob comes into the dorm looking very excited. He sits on my bed. He checks around to make sure we won't be overheard. Paul Barnes is on his bed in the far corner, reading. He won't hear anything as long as we keep it quiet.

"Yeah! It was ace, man! It's his birthday, so I thought I'd give him a special present."

"He gasped a bit when I stuck it in, but once I started doing it he loved it. He dry-cummed while I was up him."

"Man! He was so tight!" he continues. "I came loads! So you've not done Ian yet?"

"Just taking my time," I say casually. "I've got to be careful; he won't be ten till next June."

I feel happy for him; he's been wanting to do that since he first met the kid. Well now he has, and it was every bit as good as he thought it would be.

As for Ian, I'm still not in any hurry. He's still very tight and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. He gives unbelievable blow jobs in any case. I'm just going to carry on the way I've been going; I'll get there soon enough.

The match against Queen Elizabeth's was every bit as tough as I thought it would be.

Man! The kids in their team were so big! We got completely out-muscled up front.

You can't play without the ball and we weren't getting any, well, not very much. The one time we did get some decent ball we sent Paz away and he jinked his way through to touch down in the corner. That was the only time we crossed their line. We defended like demons right up to the final whistle; even so, they breached our line three times.

Before we drove back, Mr. Cooper got us together and told us it was the best we'd ever played. I know what he meant, but I hate losing.

I guess it's not that comfortable but it's very private, and we can get down on the floor together, which is really cool.

We've both got our shorts and underpants off. I'm on my back; Ian's kneeling over me, sucking my cock, his cute little bum right in front of my face. I push myself up onto my elbows and start licking him. I push my tongue right inside; he moans with pleasure, slurping round my cock.

I get out the KY and squeeze some onto my fingers. I push my middle finger right up him. Without warning he stops sucking, turns round and flops down on top of me.

"So when's that going to be?" he demands. "You're taking ages! Gavin got bummed the week after we got back here."

"You remember last term," he says, a note of excitement in his voice, "when you showed us the film you'd made? Gavin was the kid that was with me, tall and really skinny, sandy coloured hair and lots of freckles."

"Oh," I say. I don't really know the kid, but I recognise the description. He's got 'mischief' written all over him; he makes me look like an angel. "So who's he been going with?"

"They're not really," he says, "but Gavin started it. Max is really good looking and he's got a big cock. Gavin likes big cocks. Anyway, Max is sort of mates with Jeremy so it was okay."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Everyone knows that. I've no idea why he got made rugby captain."

Max is the biggest kid in the school, not as heavily built as Jeremy but several inches taller. He plays in the second row and he's very strong. He might have got the captaincy, but apart from playing rugby the only thing he's interested in is rock music, well that and bumming Ian's mate. I'm pretty sure he smokes pot too; they've just never caught him doing it.

"So anyway, when are you going to do me? Gavin keeps asking me and I have to keep telling him you haven't done it yet."

"Gav said it hurt really bad when it first went up, but after that it was great. Now he says it's the best feeling ever."

"Okay, we'll do it tomorrow," I tell him. "Meet me outside the art room after supper, say half past seven, okay?"

I pull him into a wild kiss. I never expected him to be as sexy as Ben, but he is, and the thought of bumming him, man! I just can't tell you how excited that's got me.

"Okay, mister!" I continue. "For today, you'd better get right back to doing what you were doing!"

He doesn't hesitate, snaking around to kneel over me again, my cock disappearing into his warm, wet mouth. I get some more KY on my fingers, pushing the middle one right up him. I touch his knobbly little prostate; his cock twitches just like mine does. His sucking technique is amazing; the sensations he's giving me are incredible.

I push my index finger in behind the middle one. He's still very tight, but he seems to be taking it more easily than he did the last time I tried it. Very gently I work my fingers around, opening him up. He winces slightly then carries on sucking.

I'm getting close. With my free hand I reach up and fondle his hard little bullet. He goes bananas, bucking like a wild animal, his bum jamming tight around my fingers. His cock jerks into life. He's nowhere near being able to cum, but I guess it must have felt pretty nice for him.

He doesn't even think about pulling off. He just stays right where he is, slurping and swallowing as my spunk squirts over and over into his mouth. Man! That was something else! How could anyone not enjoy doing that? I don't get it. And tomorrow I'm going to bum him. I'm going to bum him because that's what he wants and I'm not going to turn him down.

I stroll down to the corridor by the art room. The place is deserted; it seems it always is at this time in the evening. I make one final check then let myself into the trunk store. Everything's where I left it before the summer holiday. I quickly set up the bed. It smells a bit musty but I guess that can't be helped; it's okay.

I position one of the trunks in front of the others so we can use it to sit on if we need to. I'm not expecting to use it this evening, but I'm sure it'll come in handy later. Everything's ready. I check my watch; it's seven twenty eight. I quietly let myself out and head back past the art room. Ian's already there, facing away from me.

I lead the way to the trunk store and let us in. I turn on the light, locking the door behind us.

I give him the same story that I told Callum the first time I used the place. He accepts it without a word.

"The best thing about this place is that hardly anyone knows about it," I say, "you, me and three others, and two of them have left. Using this place the whole time would be too much of a risk. Someone would find out, then Jeremy would start thinking it was part of his empire; that's the last thing I want.

"So I don't want you telling anyone else about it, not Gavin, not anybody, right?" He nods. "So if you're going to tell Gavin that we finally did it, and he asks where, it was in the boys' room by the science lab; that's where we're supposed to be."

We kiss, delicately, sensuously. I run my hands under his sweater, slowly easing it upwards. He raises his arms, allowing me to pull it over his head.

We pull off our shoes and socks. In less than half a minute we're down to our white underpants. It's the first time we've seen each other like this. Man! He is so cute!

We pull each other's briefs down. Fuck! Completely naked he is just stunning. We get on the bed, our arms wrapped round each other, our lips meeting in the most amazing kiss ever. It's hard to believe that he's only nine.

I run my hands down his back and over his bum; his skin feels like silk. I pull his left leg over the top of my right one to give me better access. I squeeze out some KY, reaching between his legs to locate his pucker. My middle finger slides right up him.

"We'll do it," I say gently. "I'm going to put a second finger in. Just relax and push out, okay?"

I insert my index finger, pushing it right up alongside the other one. He winces for a moment then relaxes, his breathing slowing down again.

"You know that once I'm inside I won't be able to turn back; You're too cute; I just wont be able to stop myself."

"I don't want you to stop," he says firmly. I want you to fuck me; I want to feel your spunk squirting up my bum."

I swallow hard. He's still very tight; this is going to be an amazing fuck. I work my fingers around, loosening his ring. This is it; he's as ready as he's going to be. I withdraw my fingers.

He takes my cock in my mouth, slurping all over it. He lets me go. Now I've got to do it. I run through my options. My favourite doggy-style isn't one of them; he won't be able to hold himself steady enough. Every time I try to push in, he'll move forwards; I'm never going to get it in like that.

I could have him on his back, but that's too awkward. I'm left with two possibilities; I either have him bent over the old desk or lying on his tummy. On his tummy it is. I grab the pillow, placing it in the middle of the bed.

He rolls onto his front, the pillow under his hips. I spread his legs and kneel between them. Wow! I can hardly believe I'm doing this. He glances over his shoulder, watching nervously as I smear my dick with KY.

I lower myself onto him, aiming my cock at its target. This is trickier than I thought. I use one hand to pull his cheeks apart while resting on the other one. I try to push in, but without my hand to steady it my dick slips down between his legs. This is no good.

He reaches back, pulling his cheeks wide apart. Now we're in business. I guide my cock right onto his hole and push. After a moment's resistance it goes into him. He gasps.

I hold myself right where I am. After a few seconds his bum relaxes a little. I push further in, my cock hitting his prostate.

I'm guessing he likes it. One final push and I'm all the way in, my tummy pressed tight against his arse. I settle myself on top of him, holding the tops of his arms. I nuzzle into his hair, drawing in his sexy boy-smell.

Pure animal instinct takes over; in a matter of seconds I'm fucking him like the world's about to end, hitting his prostate with every thrust, the warmth and tightness of the little tube that's holding my cock driving me almost insane. The intensity level's gone off the scale.

Pinioned beneath me, Ian's moaning and whimpering, the mixture of pain and pleasure taking him to places he never even dreamed of.

He shudders violently, his bum clamping tight around my dick. It knocks me off my stroke, but only for a moment. Without pausing for breath I'm right back at it, pounding into him harder than ever. A few more thrusts and I'm there, my balls churning into action. Spunk barrels through my dick, spurting over and over into his cute little bum.

I collapse on top of him, totally drained. Man! That was the best ever; it just has to be! I'm so light headed the room seems to be going round in circles. It's fully half a minute before it stops; I gently lift myself off him.

He rolls onto his side. I lie down next to him, pulling him into an unbelievable post-fuck kiss. Wow! What a kid! I don't care how long I live; nothing will ever feel better than that did.

I haven't seen much of Alex this term. I've passed him on the corridor and in the playground a few times. We smile at each other and say "Hi", that's been about it. The only thing I've noticed is that he's always on his own; he still doesn't seem to have made any friends. I feel a bit uneasy about that, but I can't exactly do it for him, now can I?

Morning break; I walk out onto the playground. I spot him; he's surrounded by Idiot Face and his two cronies, Stuart Weston and Laurence Stanway, a right couple of wankers. They're not just spoilt and lazy; they're thick as well.

I don't like the look of this; I stride over to them. Idiot Face is talking like he's got a peg on his nose, making fun of Alex's accent. The other two aren't actually doing anything, just stopping Alex getting away.

He still doesn't answer, just stands there grinning and giggling. Oh, he thinks he's so fucking clever!

I bring my knee up sharply, hitting him square in the balls. He collapses on the ground, wailing and clutching his privates.

I lead him away; I'm seething. I don't like Mark Wyndham at the best of times. Well, he was asking for it and he got it. Maybe that'll knock a bit of sense into him.

I get to my feet and make my way along the corridor, Mr. Halford walking behind me. I know what it's about; Idiot Face must have said something. He summons me into the room and sits behind his desk.

"I understand that you kneed Mark Wyndham in the testicles for absolutely no reason," he says calmly.

"I still ought to cane you," he says. "You are not allowed to hit other boys; you know that. But on this occasion, provided your story checks out, I'm going to let it go. I take it that Alex will confirm what you've told me?"

"Good," he says, "because if he doesn't, I will cane you and it'll be six. D'you understand?"

I head back to class. I'm not too worried; Halford might be a sadist but he's not stupid. About fifteen minutes later he's back in our maths class. The room falls completely silent.

His two mates aren't in our class; I'm guessing he's going to be after them as well. Well, it serves them right; they should have kept their mouths shut. The two of them leave the room and we get back to work.

It's almost the end of the class when Idiot Face re-appears. It's obvious he's been crying.

So Mr. Halford's caned him. I usually feel a bit of sympathy for other kids when they get caned, but not for him I don't; he asked for it. And what a baby! I'd just turned nine the first time I got caned; I didn't cry then and I never have since.

I'm in the dorm with Rob and a couple of the other lads when Justin strolls in. He's not actually in Newton dorm; he's in Cavendish across the corridor, but he's always been part of our gang so he spends more time in here than he does in his own.

We always call him Tigger; it's because of the pyjamas he used to wear when we first started here. It's just stuck.

"Halford really went for Idiot Face," he says. "Laurence told us. Him and Stuart got one stroke each for, you know, just being there. Laurence says he never hit them that hard, just stood there and did it.

It still hurt but it wasn't that bad. But when he did Wyndham, he gave him three, one for being an idiot, one for bullying and one for telling lies. And instead of just standing there, he stepped back, you know like he was winding himself up. Laurence said it was scary just watching him."

"Yeah, well I know what that feels like," I say nonchalantly. "He hits me like that sometimes; bloody sadist."

"Fuck, man!" Justin continues. "We got Idiot Face to show us the marks. You should have seen it, man! Halford nearly cut his arse in half!"

I allow myself a little smirk. Idiot Face isn't really fat, but he's a lot plumper round there than I am. I guess that must have hurt.

I'm cross with myself. After all Alex has been through, he doesn't need people treating him like that. He was pretty important to me when we got rid of Mr. Pervy Atkinson; since then I've more or less ignored him. After that incident I told myself if I put my mind to it, I could do anything I wanted.

But I've been so busy with my own stuff, I haven't thought about what he's been going through. He's still getting picked on and he still doesn't have any friends. I've let him down.

Well, I'm going to do something about it. He mentioned a couple of kids in his own dorm that were picking on him. The first thing I need to do is to find out who they are. I don't care who it is; they're younger than me. Dealing with them can't be that difficult.

Rob and I are waiting in the furthest corner of the playground. Peter walks over to us, checking over his shoulder to make sure nobody's watching.

"Are there a couple of kids in there that are picking on him?" I ask. "Making fun of the way he talks."

"Well the next time it happens, you tell him to stop doing it, right?" I say firmly.

"I've seen him on the corridor," Rob says, "Barging into the younger kids when there's nobody watching."

"Interesting!" I say. "Well, it can't be helped; I need you to do this for me. So the next time, Archer starts calling Alex names you tell him to stop it, okay? And don't let me down. Tomorrow lunchtime go in to lunch straight away. As soon as you've finished, meet us by the main door onto the playground. I'll want to know exactly what's happened."

"Well imagine if that was you. You're dropped into a new school six thousand miles from home and all that happens is the kids call you names and make fun of the way you talk. It's not right, is it?"

"And when we've got this pair sorted out, I want you to make friends with Alex, look after him; d'you understand?"

We're waiting outside the playground door. I check my watch; it's twenty to one. Peter should be here at any moment. The door opens and out he comes.

"Last night, we were all in the dorm when Selwyn and Grant walked in. Selwyn started on Alex straight away, calling him names and making fun of his accent. I told him he shouldn't do that 'cause Alex wasn't doing him any harm.

"He went mad! He shouted at me, asking me why I was standing up for him. He said Alex was a white wog and his parents were nigger lovers. Then Grant barged me right into my locker. It fuckin' hurt, man!"

"Right," I say. "So what you're going to do now is to go to Mr. Halford's office and tell him exactly what you just told me. But only about the Archer kid; don't say a word about Grant hitting you."

"I can't do that!" he says, his eyes almost falling out. "You don't snitch on your mates, you know that!"

"Because I'm going to pick these two off one at a time; it'll be a lot easier that way." I give Rob an evil grin. "We've got plans for Mr. Shipway, haven't we Robert? D'you know where Archer is at the moment?"

"Right, let's go! When you've finished you come straight back here. Time for us to have some lunch, I think!"

We make our way inside. We leave Peter knocking on Mr. Halford's door and carry on to the refectory.

Five minutes later Mr. Halford appears. He's got a face like thunder. He come up behind this small blond kid that's sitting on the far side of the room. He sends him straight out; doesn't even let him finish eating. I'd give a lot to be a fly on the wall at that interview!

I take a note of the fat kid who was sitting next to him. So that's Grant Shipway; he's going to love what we've got in store for him.

We finish eating and stroll back out onto the playground. Peter's waiting by the door looking very nervous.

"Okay, wait right here," I tell him, positioning him a couple of yards in front of the door so Archer can't possibly miss him. "You're quite safe; Rob and I will be just over there."

A few minutes pass. Suddenly the door flies open and a little bundle of anger comes bursting out. He spots Peter immediately. I nod to Rob. We stroll across.

"You fucking idiot! the kid screams. What d'you go snitching on me to Halford for?! He's going to write to my parents! My dad'll kill me! I'm going to get you for this! You just wait!"

He's been so absorbed in his rant that he hasn't noticed me and Rob taking our positions, me on Peter's right shoulder, Rob on his left. We're standing there, arms folded, looking right at him. He shuts up, his face a mixture of fear and anger. It's just starting to dawn on him that he's been set up.

"Peter went to see Mr. Halford because I told him to." I say evenly. I pause, giving him time to allow the information time to sink in.

"Now," I continue, "Suppose that Rob and I were to go to see Mr. Halford and tell him what you just said. What d'you think might happen then?"

"You wouldn't!" he says defiantly. "Mr. Halford hates you; everybody knows that!"

"Try me," I say, smiling at him. "And in any case it won't just be me; Robert will be there too. He's one of the most respected kids in the school; he'll probably be rugby captain next year."

"You've just come from there," Rob says. "Mr. Halford hates having to speak to anyone twice."

"Four at least," Rob says casually, ratcheting things up a notch. "But it'll probably be six. He didn't look too happy when he dragged him out of lunch."

"No!" he says, still trying to look defiant. We haven't broken him yet, but we're getting there.

"Of course," I continue, "what I'd really like to do is shove your head down the toilet, but you're not worth that sort of trouble, so we'll just go and see Mr. Halford. Come on, Rob."

"I didn't mean those things I said to Alex; I just wanted to be horrible to him; I'm sorry."

"Right! I say. "So there are a few things you need to do. First of all, you need to apologise to Peter for having a go at him like that."

"I'm sorry Peter," he mumbles, trying to stop himself crying. "I should have listened to you in the first place."

"Now the next thing you have to do is to apologise to Alex," I tell him, "this evening, before you go to bed, when everyone's there; you'd better do it properly and you'd better mean it. I'll find out if you don't. D'you understand?"

"And the final thing you've got to do is to find your friend Mr. Shipway and bring him here. Off you go; you've got two minutes."

He sets off across the playground. A minute later he's back with the fat boy in tow.

"Right, disappear!" I tell him. "We've finished with you. We just need a word with your friend here!"

"It has come to our attention that you have great difficulty walking round school without bumping into people," I say, giving him the eyeball treatment. "So we've decided to give you a few lessons to see if we can rectify the problem."

"Rob and I are going to stand here like this," I continue, stepping back and positioning us a generous shoulder-width apart, "and you're going to walk between us."

He doesn't move. Barging into younger kids is one thing, but now he's got two members of the school rugby team to deal with.

"We're not going to hit you; we're not even going to move," I say sharply. "Now walk!"

"Excellent!! I say, Rob and I turning to face him. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Back you come!"

He walks back the other way, a little more confidently this time. He attempts to keep walking but I run round and cut him off.

"We haven't finished yet!" I snarl, eyeballing him from about six inches. "Practice makes perfect, you know! You're going to keep doing this till we say you can stop."

For a few seconds there's a stalemate, a battle of wills, his and mine; he's got no chance. His shoulders slump; it's all over. Rob and I position ourselves facing each other.

He walks between us, all the fight gone out of him. I'm talking a good bit louder than I need to. Just as I'd hoped, a little crowd has started to gather, including a lot of younger kids. As the 'lesson' continues they start sniggering; they know what this is about. The fat boy is getting more and more distressed; it's all he can do to stop himself bursting into tears. I check my watch.

"Right!" I say. "It looks to me that you can do it perfectly well if you want to." I put myself right in his face again.

"You'd better," I tell him. "Because if you don't we'll have to give you another lesson, only next time there won't just be two of us; there'll be four or five, maybe even six. And the lesson won't just last five minutes; it'll go on for the whole lunch break. D'you understand?"

"Man, that was so funny!" he says, struggling to control himself. "You sounded just like Mr. Halford!"

"Well, I should know how to do that," I say tartly. "I've had to listen to him often enough."

"Halford won't do anything unless Lard-Arse says something," I say dismissively. "And he's not going to do that, now is he?"

I've been reading up about where to position the lights and stuff like that, so now I've got to try it.

Working out what to film has been a bit of a problem. The obvious things to film would be concerts and plays, but there's not much point it doing that when you don't have sound. So I'm going to film boys working in the gym, especially Will's high-jump training, and I'm going to film some stuff here in the dorm, nothing sexy, just the lads being themselves. That will give me some practice at doing close-ups.

Filming sports activities outdoors, I haven't done any yet. I'm not sure how close in I can get with my camera before it all starts going fuzzy. I need to know that; close-ups will be important if I'm going to do these porn films.

Will's doing a high jump session and I'm going to film it. The first thing we both discover is that the lights don't just make everything very bright; the amount of heat they push out is unbelievable. Will's only wearing running shorts and vest but after a few minutes the sweat's running off him.

I'm still in my school clothes; even though I'm not doing much I'm sweating like a pig. It's a problem I'd never even thought of. After a little over five minutes we're both so hot we have to switch everything off to let the place cool down.

There's no heating in there so it's usually quite cool, but there's no ventilation either. It's not that big; after a few minutes it'll get like a Turkish bath. So I'm not going to be able to shoot my porn films straight through; we're going to have to keep stopping. That means I'm going to have to break them into scenes. That's not a bad thing; it's what they do when they make proper films; I just hadn't thought about it before.

What is a nuisance is that we can't stay there that long; it's too risky, so it'll take at least two sessions for me to get twenty minutes of film. That should edit down to somewhere between twelve and fifteen minutes, which is the least I'm going to need. Still, it can't be helped; it just makes it more difficult.

The following evening I set up my stuff in the dorm. The boys are fascinated; I keep telling them that I want them to carry on as normal, but I guess that's pretty difficult; I know it would be for me. I finish connecting everything up and check that it's working. Then I switch it all off and lie on my bed.

With nothing happening, they soon lose interest and get back to something like normal. Paul is in his usual position, lying on his bed reading. I move the lights, focussing them right on him. I start to film, moving in quite close. He feels the heat from the lights almost immediately.

After a few minutes I reposition the lights and film William sitting on his bed doing some stretching exercises. Once more I have to stop after a few minutes as the heat becomes unbearable.

I move onto Martin Greenhall, who's lying on the bed next to Paul, reading a comic. He's not in any of my classes; he's not into rugby or cricket either, so he's not a kid I've ever had much to do with, he's just there.

He pulls off his top and poses for me, giving me a big grin. Actually, he's not bad-looking, slim but not really skinny, blue eyes and brown hair cut fairly short. Then I notice. Fuck! He's got a hard-on in his shorts! Man! That is sexy! I can feel myself getting hard too. I'm almost relieved when the heat builds up and I have to stop again.

That certainly helps. It's a cool evening with not much breeze; as long as I don't get the lights too close to the person I'm filming I can carry on almost indefinitely. I film bits of this and bits of that, just trying to get a feel for how it all works. Finally I've used up my reel of film and it's time to stop. Now I've got to see how it comes out.

"Well, that's good; you did well to get into the team a year young. Okay, let's see what we've got."

We work away to develop the film. Finally it's ready. We run it through the projector. The first thing I notice is that the lights have done their job; the film's come out really well, you can see everything quite clearly.

That's a relief; if it had come out really dark, my porn films project would have gone right out of the window. You can even see the hard bulge in Martin's shorts. Fortunately Mr. Chandler doesn't seem to notice, or if he does, he's not saying anything.

The second plus point is that the close-ups are excellent; you can see every detail. So all I need now is more practice and I'll be ready to go. Then I'll have to sweet-talk a couple of kids into being in my first film; that's going to be the hard bit.

"So what about this foursome you were talking about?"he asks quietly. "You've been going with a boy all term; you must have bummed him by now."

"So have you spoken to Craig about it?" I ask. I'm a bit shocked; it's usually me that takes the lead in this sort of thing.

"No," he says. "I just told him that you knew about us being together and you'd asked if we'd be interested in, you know, and he jumped at it; said it sounded really hot."

I stroll along the bottom corridor.As soon as I mentioned it to Ian, he was keen as mustard, especially when I told him who it was. He's never been with anyone but me; I guess the idea of spreading his wings a bit is pretty exciting for him. I've bummed him five times now and he loves it. The last time we were up in the attic and I had him on all fours. Man! That was the best of the lot!

I'm not sure how this going to work out; we haven't planned anything, but I can't wait to get it on with Dominic again. He's grown a bit over the holidays; he's not quite as kid-model cute as he used to be, but somehow he looks sexier than ever. Whatever else happens, as long as I get to give him a good hard fucking, that'll do for me.

A strange idea hits me. There are a few nice looking kids in third year, but only two real stunners. The new kid Patrick is one; the other is Darren Proctor, about my height, slim, short blond hair, intense blue eyes and just a dusting of freckles over his nose; a real good looking kid. He's a promising rugby player too.

Well, it seems he's now attached to Julian, Dom's older brother. That's cool; Julian's not as cute as Dominic, but he's well above average, nice cock on him too; I'd just never thought about him 'like that' before. It's got me wondering what he got up to with Dom during the summer holidays; fucked him senseless, more than likely.

I arrive at the art room. Ian's already there; seems like he's never late for anything. We wait for less than a minute, although it seems longer. Craig and Dominic show up and we're ready to go. I lead the way to the trunk store and let us in.

"And no saying anything about this place to anyone else," I say firmly. "You've just joined the elite few. We're the only kids still here that know about it."

"Cool!" he says. "I won't breathe a word. This is much better than any of the 'official' places, and it's great not having to depend on Jeremy to tell us where we can go and where we can't go."

Alex and I might not have planned anything, but it looks like the other two have. Before I know it I've got Craig all over me, while Dominic and Ian are pretty well ripping each other's clothes off.

"Well, Mr Tough-Rugby-Player," Craig whispers, helping me off with my sweater and unbuttoning my shirt. "I've fancied doing stuff with you for ages. I want to suck your cock while you suck mine."

That's fine with me; he can even fuck me if he wants to. Just as long as I get into Dominic's bum I couldn't care less what else we do. We continue undressing each other. In just a few seconds we're down to out underpants. Craig's are very skimpy, his hard cock sticking up well above the waistband. I pull them down.

His cock's a bit longer than mine, maybe five inches, but around the same thickness, the foreskin still completely covering the tip, his balls large and firm. There's not a trace of hair on him. I've always thought he was a good looking kid; up close like this he seems absolutely perfect. I allow him to return the favour.

I motion for him to get on the bed. Ian and Dom are also stark naked, sitting on the trunk that I left in the middle of the floor; they're kissing passionately.

We lie on our left sides, top to toe, the classic sixty-nine position. We go straight to it. As far as I know, Craig's not sucked anyone apart from Dominic, but you'd never know; he's doing a great job. His hands are going everywhere; man! This is far out! I feel myself getting close; that's the one thing I don't want. I gently ease myself away. I snake around and flop down next to him.

We look across at the other two. They're still sitting on the trunk, Ian's head buried in Dominic's lap. He's not just sucking the kid's cock; he's got his balls in there too. I guess mine are a bit too big for him to do that for me.

I take him by the hand. "Get on all fours, facing the foot of the bed," I whisper.

He gets into position. "Don't put your head down on the mattress," I tell him. "This is going to be a bit different."

Dominic crawls onto the bed, pushing his hard little cock back into Ian's mouth.

Craig's got long legs, but I've positioned Ian perfectly; there's plenty of room for Craig to get in behind without his feet hitting the back wall. I get out the KY and smear some over his hard dick. I pass it to him. He squeezes some onto his fingers and works it into Ian's bum. He hands it back; I give him a nod.

He moves in close, guiding his cock onto Ian's hole. He pushes, hard. Ian gasps audibly as five inches of hard cock spear into him.

Now it's my turn. The positioning is perfect for that too: Dom's kneeling right at the bottom of the bed, knees well apart, his feet sticking out over the end. I walk round behind him, running my hands down his back and over his bum.

He leans forwards, his arms fully extended, resting his hands on the bed. I quickly lube us both then move right in. Man! I've waited more than a month for this!

One hard thrust and I'm right inside him, my tummy pressed tight against his plump little arse.

In a matter of seconds, Craig and I are both fucking like rabbits, watching each other intently, him bumming my boy and me bumming his. Wow! This is as hot as the stuff I was doing on holiday! There's no holding back now; I'm giving it everything. It looks like Craig is too.

I don't know who cums first, not that it matters; I just know everybody does. Dom and Ian are still dry, of course, but I've cum loads and I'm guessing Craig has too. It's the first time Dom's had my spunk inside him. That was just unreal! It doesn't get any hotter than that.

Craig and I slowly pull out. Dom hops off the bed looking very pleased with life. He gives me a big sloppy kiss then grabs his clothes.

Ian's grinning and licking his lips. Seems he was okay with it too, which is the main thing for me. He gets off the bed a bit gingerly; I guess Craig's a bit bigger than me; he fucked him pretty hard too.

In almost no time Craig and Dom are dressed and ready to go; Ian and I have barely started putting our clothes on. It's a bit risky, but if there's anyone outside on the corridor we're fucked anyway. I let Craig and Dom out, locking the door behind them.

"Yeah, that was hot!" he says, his eyes sparkling. My bum's a bit sore, but it's okay. Craig and Dominic are great; are we going to do that again?"

"I don't want us doing it too often though," I continue. "You might end up liking Craig better than me."

"There's no chance of that," he says, grinning and sticking his tongue out. "I picked you, didn't I?"

We're back at school after a week off for half term. It was a nice break; I got together with Sean and Richard a couple of times, which was great. The Robinsons were at home too. Luke's settling in well at Charterhouse. As luck would have it, he and Callum are in the same dorm; I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Piers was around for the last few days. It's been quite a while since I took one that size, well a couple of months anyway. He just about fucked my brains out. Twice. I was sore for two days afterwards, not that I'm complaining. Man! That kid can fuck!

Funny though, I could hardly wait to get back. The weather wasn't great; actually it was pissing down most of the time, so hanging out with the gang was a bit limited. In between that and the sex, things were a bit boring. Make that very boring.

Actually, it was worse than that. The girls were a pain in the arse like they resented me being there, as though I don't have just as much right to be in the house as they do. And when dad was around, which fortunately wasn't that often, he just about ignored me.

He never even asked if I'd got into the rugby team. So, like I say, I'm pleased to be back; for one thing there's always so much going on here, I never have a chance to get bored.

Lessons this term have been different, to put it mildly. Mr. Randall is a great teacher, hard but fair, so I've kept my head down and done what I needed to. He doesn't say that if we don't believe what he tells us we'll go to hell, and all the shit that Perky used to go in for.

Actually, now that I've got into reading them properly, there's a lot of stuff in the Gospels, stuff about how to live your life and how to treat other people, that's right on the money. Even so, Mr. Randall does put forward some ideas that I definitely don't agree with, under the heading of 'Christian Teaching'.

When it comes to prep, that's cool. I just write out what he's told us; Christian teaching is this, or Christian teaching is that, without saying whether I believe it or not, and that's been fine. The problem is in class. Up to now I've kept my mouth shut; I haven't challenged him once. I'm just not sure how long I can keep doing it.

Everybody knows the drill; sit down get your books and pens out and prepare for the lesson to start. We're reading a passage where the disciples are out fishing on the Sea of Galilee when they're caught in a storm and think they're going to drown. Then Jesus appears, walking across the water. He quells the storm and saves them. I don't believe a word of it.

"That," Mr. Randall says, "Is the first real indication that Jesus gave that he was, in fact, the son of God."

This is it. If I don't challenge that I'll never challenge anything. If it gets me a caning, that's tough. I put my hand up.

"Sir, I don't believe in God," I say calmly. "I don't believe that incident happened, certainly not in the way it's described there, and even if it did, I can't believe that any man, whoever he was or whatever he did, was the son of God. In fact, I don't even know what being the son of God means."

If I'd said that to Perky he'd have exploded with rage and I'd have ended up getting the cane. Mr. Randall just looks me right in the eye.

"That's fair enough," he says evenly. "Faith comes from within; I can't make you believe." He looks round at the other kids. "You're probably not the only one that thinks that either," he continues. "You're just the only one with the balls to say it."

"But let me ask you this," he says, still looking right at me. "If Jesus wasn't the son of God, then who was he? What we can be certain of is that this man, from a very humble background, was one of the most remarkable individuals who ever lived; the teachings that he gave us and the religious movement that he started are still going strong two thousand years later.

"Those teachings and that religious movement that we call Christianity have had a huge impact right throughout the western world, and have played a large part in making us the sort of people we are today. No king, no emperor has ever achieved anything like it. That's why it's important that we should try to understand, as best we can, who he was and what he taught."

I'm left completely speechless. There's nothing I can say, not a word I can argue with. And he didn't put me down like a lot of teachers do; he just batted the question right back at me. I knew right from day one that he was good. He's not just good; he's fuckin' amazing.

I'm waiting at the far corner of the playground. Peter strolls across to join me.

"No, actually they're being really friendly," he says. "Selwyn still gets a bit angry sometimes, but he doesn't take it out on Alex any more."

"Little things mainly," he says. He lowers his voice. "Look, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but I think he gets a really bad time at home."

"His dad drinks quite a lot, and sometimes when he's drunk he grabs hold of Selwyn and beats him for no reason."

"When we got back from half term we were going into the shower. I could see he'd got marks on his bum and his back and the tops of his legs. Afterwards when I managed to get him on his own I asked him about them. He wouldn't tell me at first, but then he did. He was crying. His dad used his belt on him. He says it happened twice during half term."

"Was it something to do with, you know, Mr. Halford writing to his parents?" I ask.

"Dunno," he says. "He never mentioned that. He just said that his dad got drunk and hit him with his belt."

I feel sick. No wonder the kid's so screwed up. I'm almost wishing that I hadn't dropped him in it with Mr. Halford, but it's too late for that. I know I don't get on with my dad, but he's never hit me, not even once. People think it's the sort of thing that only happens to poor kids from rough families; they don't think it happens to kids like us where dad's got a good job and plenty of money.

"Oh, Alex is great," Peter says brightly. "He's really opened up now he's not worried about people picking on him. We're like best mates now; we have a right laugh."

"That's good," I say, smiling at him. "Well, I guess you'd better go and find him. Thanks for filling me in."

He trots off. I'm pleased that we've got Alex's problems sorted. I'm worried about Selwyn though. No kid should have to put up with that sort of shit. But this time there really isn't much I can do, not right now there isn't. When I'm older and I've got myself established as a director, I'll make a film about it. People need to know what goes on.

It seems that Mr. Thompson's a runner, apart from being a great maths teacher, that is.

He's started a cross-country team. It's only quite small, a few boys from third year and some from upper and lower fourth;about ten of them altogether, mainly kids who'll never be rugby players. Craig's joined now that he's not in the rugby team. I've seen him when they go out training; he looks pretty good. He'll do better at that than he ever will at rugby.

Martin Greenhall's joined too, which is a surprise; he's never shown the least interest in any other sport.

But the one who's really caught my eye is Patrick. Well, I'd hardly miss him, now would I? They train after classes finish, much the same time as we do, so I've got to see him in the showers a couple of times. He's stunning looking dressed in his school clothes; naked he's like, wow!

Man! He is beautiful, maybe the most beautiful kid I've ever seen. I'd love to give him a good bumming but I've got to be careful. He's Brian Harper's and I don't want to go upsetting things; that would not be good. So like I said before, it's strictly look, don't touch.

Rob and I leave prep and head back to the dorm. I check to make sure nobody can hear us.

"Half past seven, meet me by the art room," I tell him. "Don't say anything to anyone else, okay? I've got something I want to show you."

I agonised about doing this for weeks before the half term break and just kept putting it off. During the boring bits while I was stuck at home I promised myself I'd do it as soon as we got back. Well, it's taken over a week, but I'm finally going to do it.

I lead the way to the trunk store and open the door. Rob follows me in; I lock the door behind us. His eyes are out on stalks.

"How the fuck did you get a key for this place?" he demands. "You're really pushing your luck; Halford would sling you out on your ear if he found out."

I sit on the trunk that I've placed in front of the others. Rob sits down next to me.

Then I tell him, not the bullshit version I told Callum, I tell him everything; about Atkinson bringing me here and threatening to get Callum thrown out if I didn't do what he wanted, about him raping me, about how I really got the key, and finally about seeing Alex coming out of here and all the stuff that happened afterwards.

"Man, you are something else," he says finally. "If I didn't know you, I'd think you were making it up. So that's why Atkinson left." He slowly shakes his head.

"Yeah," I say, "but all I was concerned about was getting him out of here so he couldn't touch me or Alex again. I'm not sure if it was just us two; I think he may have been doing it with some other boys."

"Well, I'm glad it wasn't me he went for," he says, looking straight in front of him. "I'd have freaked; I couldn't have handled it like you did. So why did you hang onto the key?"

"It's somewhere else we can go isn't it?" I say. "And somewhere that Concrete Head doesn't know about. Oh, we can't use it all the time; the art room's open all day, it would be too risky to come here then. But Mr. Townsend always goes home before supper and there's never anyone down here after that. Even so, I don't come here that often, once a week at the most. This is where I brought Ian the first time I bummed him. I had the bed set up, of course."

"Last term, after Mr. Atkinson went, we had a foursome in here; me Callum, Russell and Dominic." I say quietly.

"You mean Dominic Lees?" he asks, his eyes almost falling out. "Russell was bumming Dominic Lees?"

"We all messed about for a bit, then they got me and Dom bent over the trunk. They started off bumming us just like normal, but after a couple of minutes they swapped over. So I got Russell's up me. Man! He had a big one! And he came loads!"

"Yeah," he says, grinning. "I saw Russ in the showers a few times; I noticed he was pretty big."

"Bring him down here if you want; I'll show you how to set the bed up. You can get naked, give him a real treat."

"Just make sure he doesn't breathe a word about this place. This is ours; we don't want Concrete Head poking his nose in."

I pass him the KY then get the pillow from its hiding place behind the bed and put it on the old desk. I bend down and wait. Rob reaches round, undoing the clip at the top of my shorts and pulling down the zip. He skins them down my legs; my underpants quickly follow.

He runs his hands over my bum. A slimy finger touches my hole and pushes its way inside. He touches my prostate; my cock twitches like crazy. After a short time a second finger pushes in, the two fingers gently twisting round to open me up. They both slide out.

Rob moves in close, the head of his cock nuzzling my hole. One hard thrust and he's right inside me, his tummy pressed tight against my arse.

He doesn't need to be asked twice; within a few seconds he's pounding my arse like it was going out of fashion. It's the first time he's done it when I haven't been on my tummy.

That's good, but this is better, he can get further in, his dick hammering my prostate like you wouldn't believe.

He reaches down and takes it between his fingers. Man! That is unreal! I hardly know which day it is. As always, the muscle spasms start right down by my toes, quickly sweeping up my legs, making me shake all over. My bum tightens around his dick. A moment later the spunk squirts out of my cock and dribbles down the front of the desk.

Rob's not quite there, but he's not far away. A few more thrusts then he grabs me round the thighs, slamming his whole length into my bum. It jerks wildly, unloading over and over deep inside me. Oh, yeah! That was exactly what I wanted!

"Maybe we could try that foursome thing sometime," he says quietly. "I wouldn't mind getting my dick up Ian's bum."

Being with Ian is great and it's not just the sex. After working hard all day, spending ten or fifteen minutes alone with him is exactly what I need, even if we spend most of it chatting and cuddling. He's bright, he's funny and he makes me feel good about myself.

I still don't know why he picked me the way he did, but I'm certainly not complaining. Of course, the sex is, like, something else. He always wants me to bum him and I'm not going to say no, now am I? What a cute kid! I never expected him to be like that; he's amazing.

He's down on all fours. I've been pounding his arse for the best part of five minutes, fondling his stubby little dick at the same time. He moans quietly, spurring me on to even greater efforts.

He's getting close; I can feel it. A moment later he bucks violently, his bum tightening around my cock. Within a few seconds I'm there too. Instinctively, I slam right into him. My cock jerks into action, my spunk spurting over and over into his cute little bum. Oh yeah! That's one thing I'll never tire of doing!

"Any time you want," I tell him, grinning back. "So would you be on for another foursome then?"

"Yeah, of course I would!" he says, starting to get back into his clothes. "You mean with Craig and Dominic again?"

"Yes, sure," he says. "We must have a foursome with Max and Gavin sometime. Would you like that?"

"Maybe," I say guardedly. "I don't want too many people knowing about the trunk store, that's all."

He gives me a beautiful kiss and makes his way down from the attic. I finish getting dressed. I'm glad he didn't push the idea of a foursome with Max and Gavin. Now don't get me wrong, I like the idea of fucking Gavin a lot, but Max just isn't someone I have a lot of time for.

You might be surprised by that because he's something of a rebel in his own way. But his idea of rebelling is to drop out, and that's not my style at all. I want to do things, change things, make things happen. Dropping out never got anyone anywhere.

Really good teachers command your attention; that's what Mr. Randall does. In most other classes you can switch off if you want to, but not in his; you can't let your attention wander for a moment.

"Right, gentlemen," he says. "We've been studying the Gospels for several weeks now. Today, I want to pause for a while. I want you to think about what you've learned, then ask yourself what sort of a man Jesus was."

He canvasses a few of the kids. Rob and Dominic are fairly sure he wasn't; Idiot Face doesn't know and Craig doesn't seem too sure either.

"Of course he wasn't!" Mr Randall explodes. "For all anyone knew at the time, he was a carpenter's son from some two-horse town up in the hills in Galilee; of course he wasn't posh! So how d'you think he'd have spoken?"

"I think that's right," he says. "In the main, the people that came to listen to him were just ordinary, working people, and they came because he spoke in a way that they understood. Anything else? What about his accent?"

"After Jesus was arrested he was taken to the house of the High Priest," Justin responds. "Peter followed, and stood warming himself by the fire outside. Some of the people there said that they could tell he was one of Jesus' followers because of the way he spoke, like a Galilean."

I have to stop myself giggling. Justin's a really good kid, a great laugh, but his dad's Dean of Salisbury Cathedral, which is one step away from being a bishop. Justin knows this stuff inside out. Man, that is so weird!

"Excellent!" Mr. Randall says, clearly impressed. "So what did Jesus think of the Jewish establishment, you know, the scribes and the Pharisees and the regular rabbis that taught in the synagogues?"

"He certainly was!" he agrees. "Think about what he called them: 'you blind guides', 'you bunch of hypocrites', 'you brood of vipers', 'like whited sepulchres, all clean on the outside, all rotting corruption within'. That's pretty strong stuff; it's not surprising they didn't like him much, is it? So they used to turn up where he was preaching and try to trip him up. Then what happened?"

"Of course they couldn't!" Mr. Randall says. "He was far too good for them. And it didn't stop there."

He refers us to a passage where Jesus and his followers went to the Temple. Jesus made a whip out of cords and began throwing out all the traders and money-changers.

"You bet they would!" Mr. Randall says. "So all the top establishment people, you know the priests of the Temple, the senior rabbis and so on got together to discuss what they should do about this man who was upsetting their cosy little world. And what did they decide?"

"That's right," Mr. Randall says. "They did what authoritarian regimes always do when someone comes along threatening the status quo; they decided to get rid of him. They'd arrest him on trumped up charges, put on a show trial and have him executed."

"So if you're looking for a real rebel leader, someone who was prepared to stand up to the establishment and speak out against injustice, even at the risk of his own life, you don't need to look much further."

I can't help admiring this guy; he's got me again. I can't argue with a word he's said. But more than that, I admire his passion, his enthusiasm and the way he never talks down to us like most teachers do.

I still don't believe in God, but I can't just dismiss it as a load of nonsense any more, and that's down to him. He's made me think. Man, he is good!

It's morning break. I go for a piss then make my way out of the building. As I head out onto the playground, Peter and Selwyn are waiting for me.

"We've got something to tell you," Peter says. "Well, Selwyn has. Not here though; is there somewhere we can go?"

"You know when you told Peter to go and snitch on me?" Selwyn says. "Halford said he was going to write to my parents. Well, this morning he called me into his office. He'd still got the letter, said he must have forgotten to send it. He said I'd been behaving much better recently and asked me if I thought he still needed to send it.

"I said I didn't think he did. He asked me if I was sure, 'cause he wouldn't want to rip it up then have to write another one in a few weeks time. So I said I was sure and he ripped it up and threw it in the bin."

Halford amazes me; sometimes he can be an absolute bastard, other times he does stuff like that. I don't get it.

"That's cool, man," I say. "But he didn't forget, did he? He never forgets anything."

"No," he says shaking his head. "I think mum must have spoken to him, told him about what's been happening at home. Peter told you about what was happening with my dad?"

"Yeah, I was worried," I tell him. "I thought that might have been why he beat you at half term."

"That's bad, man!" I say. "You shouldn't have to put up with that. Doesn't your mum do anything?"

"She tries, but when he's like that she can't really stop him. He usually says sorry afterwards but sometimes he was too drunk to even remember he did it."

"You should tell someone," I say. "Go to the police, show them the marks. He could get put in jail for beating you like that."

"I can't do that!" he says. "If he got put in jail he'd lose his job too; then what'd happen to us? Mum hasn't worked since before I was born. I've got two younger sisters; Claire's only four. We'd lose the house, everything. I might even get put in a kids' home."

"Shit," I say. "I'm sorry, man; I don't know what you can do. But if things are getting bad and you want a chat any time, I'm here, okay?"

"Well, it has to be hard dealing with that. I don't get on with my dad, but he's never hit me or anything."

"Yeah, but what I was doing still wasn't right, was it, taking it out on other kids?" he says. "And it was just making things worse. I lost all my mates, well everyone except Grant; it was stupid."

"He's okay," Selwyn says, sounding non-committal. "He was really upset after what you and Rob made him do. His problem is that he thinks he's useless. That's what his mum and dad tell him; so do the teachers."

"Well, he shouldn't think that," I say. "He's the biggest kid in third year, isn't he?"

"He's pretty strong too, from what I hear, "I continue. "He could get into the school rugby team next year if he put his mind to it. He'd have to work at it, gym training and that, and he'd have to be more careful about what he eats instead of just stuffing his face with sweets and crisps the whole time. But he could do it if he wanted to."

"Well, we'd better be going," I say, "Thanks for telling me. And remember what I said, okay?"

It's dead on half past seven when I reach the art room. Rob and Ian are already there.

"Oh, he'll be here," Rob says casually. "Punctuality isn't one of his strong points."

I pace the corridor nervously; I hate being kept waiting. A minute or so later Peter comes scuttling along. We walk the few yards to the trunk store. I let us in and lock the door from the inside. Unlike the foursome with Dom and Craig, this time Rob and I have got it all planned out.

I set to work on Peter while he starts on Ian. I help Peter off with his sweater and unbutton his shirt. He takes it off and drops it on the floor.

He eagerly returns the favour, his fingers pulling at my shirt buttons. Within a few seconds we're both naked from the waist up. Peter might not be the cutest kid in third year, but he's got a great body, slim without being skinny; I like that.

I'm surprised he's not more into sport than he is. We kick off our shoes. He reaches forward, undoes the clip at the top of my shorts and pulls down the zip. I wiggle my hips so that they fall round my ankles. I step out of them. Now it's my turn. I suck in a breath.

Peter's legs look pretty good in his school shorts; in just his tight white briefs they are perfect, and he's got the most beautiful arse. It's no wonder Rob likes bumming him so much.

His cock's sticking right up in the front of his briefs, clearly quite a good size for an eleven year old. I reach forward and pull them down. Oh yes! Almost four inches, fairly slim and uncut, his foreskin just covering the tip; that is a nice one!

His balls are quite large too, though still pulled up tight in their sac. This is going to be more fun than I thought. I kneel down in front of him, examining him closely. There's not a trace of hair on him, the same as me, I guess. I flick out my tongue, licking all over his cock. Yeah, that is a nice one! I take it into my mouth, sucking it right down to the base. It's the perfect size for me; I could suck it all day.

I take the KY out of my shorts and smear it over my fingers. I run my hand up between Peter's legs and along his crack. I reach his bum-hole, tickling it for a couple of seconds. I don't have to push. Peter flexes his knees, sitting back on my finger. It goes right up him. I hit his prostate, his cock twitching in my mouth.

I glance to my left. Ian and Rob are both naked. Rob's sitting on the edge of the bed. Ian's kneeling in front of him, sucking him off. He's taking Rob's cock right down his throat. Man, that is something else!

In front of me, Peter's stroking my hair, pumping his cock into my mouth while fucking himself on my finger. Man! That is hot! His breathing gets harsh and uneven. He pushes my head right down, his cock jerking powerfully in my mouth. After a few seconds he lets me go and carefully pulls out.

I get to my feet. He pulls my briefs down. Without waiting to be asked he's down on his knees with my cock in his mouth. He's good too, just like Rob told me, working his tongue all over it, his fingers caressing my balls. I look across at the bed.

Ian's down on all fours with Rob's finger up his arse. I wonder how he'll react to having Rob's dick up there. Well, we'll soon find out. I'm starting to get close.

He gets off the bed and helps me move the trunk into the middle of the floor. I get Ian bent over one side of the trunk while Rob bends Peter over the other, the two younger kids in the same positions that Dom and I occupied just a few months ago. Rob and I grin at each other.

At the same instant we each stick it up our boy. We start to fuck. I look across. Rob always looks very athletic, but standing there with his dick thrusting in and out of Peter's bum he looks unbelievable. It's getting me so steamed up I'll cum before I want to if I'm not careful. I've got to film them doing that! We've only been going for a minute or so and I'm already getting close. I look across at Rob.

The look on Ian's face, the mixture of pain and pleasure as he gets Rob's big one up him, is unforgettable. But right now I've got something else to concentrate on. My cock's being gripped tight my Peter's hot little arse and I'm going to give him what he needs.

I build up the pace, bumming him as hard as I can, Peter's moans and gasps telling me how much he's enjoying it. I reach down and play with his dick, hard as iron and throbbing like crazy. He shudders violently, dry-cumming for the second time in barely five minutes.

He's taken me right over the edge. I give him the whole thing, the spunk unloading over and over into his firm, round bum. On the other side of the trunk Rob's cumming too, his body covered in a sheen of perspiration. After a few seconds we both pull out. Man! That was wild!

"I'm a bit sore," he says. "Rob fucks really hard. He cums a lot too, doesn't he? I'm all messy."

I drop down behind him. His bum's bright red. Rob's spunk is leaking out and trickling down his legs. I use some cotton wool to gently clean him up, slipping a fresh piece into his underpants as he pulls them on.

"I think I'll stick with you," he says, giving me a little grin. "You're the one I really like."

Christmas has come and gone, pretty boring as always. With all the family stuff that was going on I hardly got to see my mates, and I never saw Luke and Piers at all; I think they must have gone away. And the weather was shit. So I'm glad to be back at school.

It's weird; I used to hate this place, but these days I feel more at home here than I do at home. You pretty much know why that is, of course. I've been back about an hour; most of the others haven't arrived yet. I'm on my way across to the main building when Selwyn comes running towards me. He's positively beaming.

"Dad's given up the booze," he says. "Seems like after half term, mum decided she had to do something about it. So she got it touch with, what's it called, Alcoholics Anonymous. So one night, Dad gets home from work, goes to get himself a drink and the drinks cabinet isn't there any more.

"Mum tells him she's got rid of it and poured all the booze down the sink. Well he's just about to go mad when these two guys come out of the playroom. They sit him down and tell him exactly what's going to happen if he doesn't stop drinking. He's not touched a drop since."

"Yeah," he says, giving me a big grin. "At Christmas, after I'd opened all my usual presents, dad gave me another one. It was the new Arsenal strip; I was over the moon, man! Then on New Year's day he took my to Highbury to watch them playing Man United. It was ace! The tickets must have cost a fortune!

"And best of all, we won! On the way home dad said he knew it couldn't make up for all the bad things he'd done; he just wanted us to be a proper family again. It was the best Christmas ever, man, just like when I was little."

"Toby," he asks, "You know you said about Grant getting into the rugby team; did you mean that?"

He goes trotting off. I'm pleased for him; he looked really happy. I've never seen him like that before.

It's morning break. I'm heading across the playground when Alex comes across to me.

"Yeah, sure," I say. It's a fine sunny day and unusually warm for January. We stroll across to the far side of the playground and sit on one of the benches looking out over the playing field.

"But you've never asked to do anything with me," he says. "You bum other boys, Peter's told me."

Shit! I feel like I've just been hit in the face with a wet sock. I never saw this coming at all. I'm annoyed with Peter too; his mouth will get him into trouble one of these days. I swallow hard.

"Sorry, Alex;" I say quietly. "I've just never thought about doing stuff with you. After what Mr. Atkinson did, I thought you wouldn't want to do anything like that again, with me or anyone else."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I've already got a younger friend; we're not supposed to have two."

"No, I like both of you," I say gently. "Ian's a great kid too. He came and chatted to me after I showed the film of sports day, then when we came back in September he came and chatted again. He more or less asked if he could be my friend; well, he sort of got me to ask him, to be honest. So that's how it started.

"But he's been great, and not just for sex. He's always there for me, you know, like he always comes to watch me play rugby. He even showed up for one match when it was pissing down with rain." I pause for a second.

"But you're a great kid too," I continue. "I'm sure there are lots of older boys who'd like to have you as a friend."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I'm not going to dump Ian, that wouldn't be right," I say quietly. "And I'm not going behind his back either."

"But can't you go with both of us?" he pleads. "I wouldn't mind, and I won't say anything, I promise."

"I'll have to talk to him," I say. "But you'll have to keep it to yourself. If Jeremy finds out he'll ban me. Then it'll be difficult for me to see either of you. Meet me here this time tomorrow, I'll let you know what he says."

That wasn't what I had in mind when I asked Peter to make friends with Alex, but I can't say I'm surprised.

I don't like what's going on here. Peter told Alex quite openly that I was bumming 'other boys'. That just shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened last year. When Russell was running things, it took me nearly three weeks watching everything that was going on to find out that he was going with Dominic.

And that was the only thing I ever did find out. There were other kids in Upper Fourth going with younger boys but I never knew who any of them were. Now that Concrete Head's in charge it's got very slack.

It's his fault too. Back last September when Will was training with the rugby team, it was obvious that he and Jeremy were together. It's got to stop; we're breaking the eleventh commandment. I remember what Callum told me last year.

If things carry on like this, Mr. Halford's going to make an example of somebody, and you can bet your life it won't be Jeremy or Giles or one of the so-called stars; it'll be someone like me. I know I used to hate this school, but I've worked very hard to make a life for myself here, so right now I don't want to get thrown out.

I'm going to have to do something about it, but I'm not sure what. The first thing I need to do is to talk to Rob.

It's all arranged. Peter's going to meet us before prep round the back of the refectory where nobody will see us. It's not private enough to have sex there, but good enough for a quiet chat. We've been there several minutes when he comes scuttling along.

"Well, not exactly," he says. "He was going on about how much he likes you; I just told him that you did stuff with other boys; I didn't say who."

"Well, even so, you shouldn't have done it." I tell him. "They turn a blind eye to boys going with other boys as long as we stick to the rules and keep it quiet, so you don't go round talking about it, okay?"

"You should be speaking to Lee Sheldon, not me," Peter says huffily. "He talks about it the whole time, who's going with who. He seems to know about every kid in the school that's doing it."

Rob and I look at each other; he's obviously as worried as I am. Lee Sheldon's another third year kid, very cheeky and cocky. He's going to have to be dealt with.

"It's getting out of hand," I conclude. "If it carries on like this, Halford will make an example of somebody. Well, you're okay; it won't be you. It won't be Jeremy either; it'll be someone like me."

"Careless talk costs lives, like they used to say during the war," Giles observes.

"I really had no idea. Lee's not like that when he's with me, but there four boys in Eagle dorm who've got older friends; it's like a little sex-club. Leave it to me; I'll deal with it. I'll have a word with Jeremy too. He's not as bad as you probably think. We've been in the same dorm since the day we started; he'll listen to me."

"And I shouldn't be too worried," he continues. "If they're going to pick on anyone, it's much more likely to be Max; Mr. Halford would love to get rid of him."

We sit on the bed. I put my arm round his shoulder. Man! I am not looking forward to this, but there's no way round it. I start right at the beginning with the stuff about Mr. Atkinson bringing me here, moving on to how I persuaded him to give me a key and how I met Alex, right up to what happened yesterday. He listens in complete silence. Finally there's no more to tell.

"Toby, that's awful," he says. "I'd no idea Mr. Atkinson was like that; I thought he was really nice."

"I saw what you and Rob did to Grant Shipway," he says. "So that was because he'd been picking on Alex?"

"It was brilliant; made him look a right idiot," he says, grinning. "But he deserved it; he was always barging into us when the teachers weren't looking. Well, he hasn't done it again; he's too scared." He pauses for what seems like ages.

"Alex really needs you, doesn't he? He must think you're a hero after what's happened."

"Does that mean you won't be going with me any more?" he asks, his big blue-grey eyes looking right into mine.

"Definitely not," I say firmly. "I asked you to be my friend and you said yes. You've been there for me every time I've asked you. You even came to watch me play rugby when it was pissing down. I'm not going to dump you; it wouldn't be right. Alex asked if I couldn't go with both of you. Well, I wasn't going to do it behind your back either, so I told him I'd ask you."

"Jeremy's not going to know," I tell him. "I'll have to see Alex after breakfast, like I did the first couple of times I went with you. And I can bring him here, I guess."

"Well, that's cool then," he says. "You're my hero too. It must have been horrible for Alex, strange country, strange school, kids picking on him, then THAT happening."

"You're a great kid," I say, smiling and hugging him. "You'll be my friend till the day I leave."

Well, come on then!" he says, giving me his sexiest grin. "We're here now; you know what I want."

I wander back to the dorm. That went far better than I'd dared to hope. I was worried that Ian would get upset and start crying, which would have made things really awkward. So he's a little hero too; well, in my book he is.

It's time for our evening shower. We strip down to our briefs, grab our towels and head along to the bathroom. Five minutes later we're out of the shower and getting dry. I never check the guys out when we're in the showers; there's no point, I've seen them all naked hundreds of times. But as Martin bends down to slip his briefs on I see it anyway, the marks are unmistakeable; he's been bummed.

I've no idea who he's been with, but whoever it is has got a big one. He pulls his briefs up; there's a stain in the back that looks like it's still damp, so I'm guessing it only just happened, probably while I was with Alex. He stands up and turns slightly so he's side-on to me. The hard-on in his underpants is pretty obvious too.

After the way he posed for me when I was filming in the dorm it's not a total surprise; it's interesting though. Up till then he'd always seemed a bit of a baby; I'd never have thought he'd be into sex.

"I'm speaking to all the boys who have younger friends," he says. "Just to let them know we have to tighten things up and stop all this loose talk."

"Thanks for drawing attention to the problem," he continues. "I don't want anyone getting thrown out while I'm in charge; it wouldn't look good. Anyway, I spoke to Giles' little friend yesterday evening. I told him how displeased I was and that he'd better learn to keep his mouth shut. I think he got the message. But we all need to be more careful, including me."

He leaves us to it. I have to say that I'm surprised; he's handled it much better than I thought he would.

It's just before half past seven. I meet Alex outside the art room. He's looking very nervous. So am I, for that matter; my heart's thumping like you wouldn't believe. I was a bit unsure about bringing him here; I thought the trunk store might have bad memories for him, but he said he was okay with it so here we are.

I let us in and lock the door from the inside. I'm not going to rush this. I wrap my arms round him, running my hands up and down his back while he does the same to me. He's a few inches shorter than I am. I lean forward slightly; he looks up, smiling. Our lips meet. Suddenly we're all over each other, tongues wrestling, cocks grinding together.

The next few minutes are a total blur. The next thing I know, we're both down to our underpants. I'm as hard as a chocolate frog, and by the looks of things he is too. He kneels in front of me and pulls my briefs down. I step out of them. He holds my cock round the base; licks it a couple of times then takes it into his mouth. Oh, fuck! Within a matter of seconds he's giving me as good a blow-job as anyone ever has, his lips and tongue working all over it.

I run my fingers through his thick, springy hair. Man! This is way out! I'm starting to get close.

We swap places. He's got a great body, slimmer than Peter but still not a stick-insect. I skin his underpants down his legs. His cock's fairly slim, about the same thickness as Peter's but a fraction longer. His balls are still held tight in their sac, but they're developing nicely; I'd guess it won't be more than a few months before he's able to cum.

I pull his foreskin back a little and lick the tip of his cock. Mmmm!! I moisten my lips and take it into my mouth, my lips sliding right down to the base. It feels perfect.

Without even thinking I begin to suck, using the fingers of my left hand to fondle his balls while my right hand runs over his bum. I grab the KY, lube up my middle finger and push it into him. He strokes my hair, urging me to continue. I suck him harder, my tongue working overtime.

His bum clamps tight around my finger, his cock jerking strongly in my mouth. After a few seconds he goes limp. I gently let him go. Man! That was superb! We get on the bed, snuggled right up together, kissing passionately. In no more than a couple of minutes he's rock hard again. Oh, yeah! This kid is special all right!

I squeeze some more KY onto my fingers and carefully work it into him, first with one finger, then two. He moans quietly, getting more excited by the second.

He moves into position. I gently pull his bum back till I've got him exactly where I want him. I sit back on my heels and smear KY over my dick. I move in behind him, guiding it onto his hole. After what happened with Mr. Atkinson I'm still not sure I should be doing this, but it's a bit late for that. I push hard. It goes right up him.

"Oh, Tobee!!" he moans. "Oh, that's great! Now bum me! Please Toby; bum me hard!"

I set to work. In less time than it takes to tell I'm pounding his cute little arse like the world's about to end. In front of me he's going crazy, begging for more. I start to get close. I reach down and fondle his cock.

He bucks like a wild animal, his bum gripping my dick even tighter. His cock jerks between my fingers as he has his second dry-cum in less than ten minutes.

As my balls churn into action I stuff it right in, my spunk spurting over and over into his firm, round bum. Wow! That wasn't just good; it was unreal! Man! I am out of it! I slowly pull out. We flop down together on the bed, our mouths meeting in a wonderful after-fuck kiss. I love this kid; I'd do anything for him. It doesn't mean I love Ian any less; I love both of them. Having one really cute, sexy kid to fuck is good; I can hardly believe I've got a second one. But I have, and I'm going to make the most of it.

I've been working at filming indoors for months, getting used to where to position the lights, how close in I can get with the camera, everything. I've been reading up on stuff too, little tricks like using chalk so that the people you're filming know exactly where they need to be; that's called hitting your marks.

I've filmed in the dorm a few times. Martin loves being filmed; he always poses for me, always gets a hard-on too. I still don't know who he's going with, but he's not really a mate so it's not really any of my business. I'm curious, though; I mean, like you're not.

So as far as the camera work goes, I'm ready, or as ready as I'm going to be. I've got the filming all planned out too; broken down into scenes so I don't have to shoot it all at once. Now I've got to do the hard part; persuading a couple of kids to be in it.

Martin would go for it like a shot, but as I've no idea who he's going with, that doesn't help much. In any case, it's probably someone in Upper Fourth, and I don't really want any of them to find out what I'm up to.

But that presents another problem; I want the kid doing the bumming to be able to cum, and the only kid in our year that I know can do it is Rob. So it'll have to be Rob, and if it has to be Rob, it might as well be Peter as well; I'm pretty sure he'll go for it if Rob does.

Right, so I'm going to have to ask him. That's not going to be easy. Rob's the best mate I'll ever have, but he's far more cautious and sensible than I am.

I'm going to have to talk him into it. That means I'll need to think pretty carefully about what I say. If it sounds like I'm going off at half-cock and haven't thought about it properly there's no way he'll agree.

Even so, he's bound to come up with something I haven't thought of; he always does. That's good, to be honest; he's stopped me making an idiot of myself more than once. So I fix it up, Sunday morning after chapel. We're not doing anything then, and unless it's pissing down with rain we'll probably have the dorm to ourselves.

We sit on my bed, which is right in the corner furthest from the door. We'll get plenty of warning if anyone does walk in on us.

"You know I told you about Mr. Atkinson taking me to the trunk store?" I say. "Well, a few times when we were there he showed me these films, porno films with boys about our age in them, doing - you know. They were okay, but the camera work wasn't anything special."

"They were made by this company in Denmark; seems it's quite legal there. I got the name and address off the boxes the films were in.

"But they don't do the actual filming; they buy the original negative from whoever's made the film in the first place, then they process it and sell the copies. Well I could make a film like that, better probably; all I need is a couple of kids to be in it. We could make quite a bit of money if you're interested; you and Peter - you know."

"A couple of hundred each," I say casually. "We could probably get more, but it's best if we don't look too greedy."

"I don't know, man," he says looking apprehensive. "Suppose some guys in this country bought them; someone might recognise us."

"Good point," I say. "We'll have to get them to agree not to sell them here. It's easy enough; they must print their catalogue in several languages; they just don't put it on the English version. If they don't agree we don't do the deal."

"But how d'you know they won't just process the film and sell it anyway?" he asks. "They might not even pay us."

"They won't have the film at that stage," I say, smiling at him. "We'll start by making four twenty-second clips; far too short to be any use to them. We send them those, just to show we're genuine, and we put the deal to them. Then we wait for them to get back to us. If they agree, we make the film and send it to them."

"True," I say, "but I don't think they would. Why should they? They're going to make plenty of money anyway. And in any case, I'll tell them that if the first one goes okay, we can make some more with different boys in them. Well, we obviously won't do that if they don't pay us."

"Shit, man!" he whispers. "Well, you seem to have it all worked out and I could certainly use the money, but it's pretty heavy; I'd never have dreamed of doing anything like that. Are you sure it'll be okay?"

"And tell him to keep his mouth shut," I say. "You know what he's like. If anyone finds out what we're up to we will get fried!"

That was easier than I'd expected; it's surprising what the prospect of making some real money can do. Rob's parents aren't rich in any case; the army pays for him to come here because his dad has to move around so much.

The cross-country team are out training; Sunday morning is the one time that they train and we don't. As they head across from the far side of the field I can see Craig right at the front with someone running next to him. At that moment they're too far away for me to make out who it is, but as they get closer I can see that it's Ashton Hayes.

I wonder why he's doing that; it seems odd. It's not that he isn't good at it; in fact he's very good. Last summer he won the fifteen hundred metres on sports day, and won it by a long way. But he plays outside centre in the rugby team, so he can't run in any of the races they go to because they always clash with our rugby matches.

And in the summer he'll be the opening bowler for the cricket team, so he's not going to get much chance to race then either. I guess he must enjoy it; that's weird! They run past me and disappear into the pavilion.

I sit there a while longer basking in the early spring sunshine, planning out the next stage of my project. I'm pretty sure Peter will agree to do it; I hope he does. I'll need to make sure I brief them properly so they know exactly what we're going to do; we won't have time to film anything twice.

I run through it all in my head; now I need to write it down to make sure I don't forget anything when I'm telling them. I check my watch. It's ten to eleven; time to go, I've got some prep to do. I need a piss first. The pavilion's still open; I might as well go there.

I walk through the changing room that the runners have been using. The place is empty and everything's completely quiet, but there are two sets of clothes there waiting for someone to put them on. That strikes me as odd too.

I stroll into the shower area; there's nobody there either. I'm on full alert now; there's something going on.

As quietly as I can, I make my way into the boys' room. One of the stalls is occupied, just as I expected. I stand there, tuning my ears. The sounds are quiet but unmistakeable. I creep into the other stall and silently bolt the door. Very gingerly I stand on the seat and look over the partition.

Martin's bent over the toilet; Ashton's standing behind him, fucking him stupid. So that's why he was there! He does have a big one too; nearly as big as Russell's, and on a slim kid like him it looks huge. Martin seems to like it though.

I climb down and make my way out before they notice me watching them. Man! That was hot! It was funny too, in a way. Piecing together what Giles and Peter told us, it seems that Deon, Ashton's little brother, is getting bummed by Jonathan Moore. I wonder if he knows.

It's weird; some nights I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, but other nights I can't get to sleep at all. With the prospect of making my first porn film coming up, I guess I've got a lot to think about at the moment. I can't get my mind off Martin either, seeing him getting bummed like that. Man! That was something else!

On the other side of the dorm, Rob's in bed with William. They're fucking; I can hear them. I can't believe how sexy Rob's got over the past few months; he wants to fuck every chance he gets. When he's finished just now he won't go back to his own bed. They'll sleep together then he'll bum him again when they wake up. Fuck! I'm as hard as a chocolate frog! I could just have a wank, but...

I've had another of my mad ideas. I get out of bed, get the KY out of my locker and walk noiselessly past Rob's empty bed to Martin's on the other side. I pause for a moment to let my eyes get used to the dark. Martin's lying on his side facing towards Paul Barnes bed. Paul can sleep through anything. He's even slept through a couple of thunder storms, really bad ones, so I don't think I've got too many problems there.

I make my way between Rob's bed and Martin's and slip in behind him. I snuggle right up. I love feeling him close to me like this. He's sleeping in briefs and a tee-shirt. I run my hand over his bum. Oh, yeah, I want some of that!

I wrap my arm round him, allowing my hand to slide over the front of his briefs. He's hard too, not that that's a surprise. I take a deep breath, enjoying his smell. It makes me harder than ever, my cock jabbing into his arse. He's still asleep. I run my hand under his tee-shirt and play with his right nipple.

"I thought you might like some company," I say. "I saw you in the showers the other night. You've been bummed, haven't you?"

"Yeah, so what?" he replies dismissively. "You have too. Rob bummed you this morning; I saw him."

That comes as a bit a surprise, but I guess it shouldn't. It was getting light while we were doing it; we weren't being that quiet either. Well, I guess that makes the score one-all.

"He can sleep with me any time he wants," he says, turning to face me. "He's hot!"

"Well, you're here, aren't you?" he says, sounding bored. "I haven't tried to kick you out, have I?"

I run my hand over the front of his briefs, feeling his cock, rock hard and throbbing. I put my fingers in the waistband. He raises his hips so I can pull them off. His cock's slimmer than mine and not quite as long, but he won't be twelve till next month so it's not bad. I rest my head on his tummy and take it into my mouth, sucking it gently.

He strokes my hair. I squeeze some KY onto my fingers then push my hand between his legs. I find his bum-hole and push in; he feels messy. That's a surprise; it's been over twelve hours since I saw Ashton bumming him in the pavilion toilets, maybe he's done it again since. I let him go.

I grab the pillow and put it in the middle of the bed. He lies on top of it with his bum sticking up. He spreads his legs. I quickly smear some KY over my dick and lower myself onto him. He holds his cheeks apart, helping me to guide it right onto his hole. One firm push and it goes right up him.

He's still pretty tight, despite all the attention Ashton's been giving him, and man, he's as hot as hell.

I start to fuck him, burying my cock as deep as it'll go. I fuck him harder, ploughing into him with everything I've got. Beneath me, he's moaning and gasping, loving every second of it. I'm getting close; a couple more thrusts and everything goes fuzzy. I plunge right into him as my balls fire into action.

A moment later my spunk's spurting over and over into his arse. I lie right on top of him gasping for breath, my heart pounding against his spine. Wow! There's no such thing as a bad fuck, but he's fantastic. The ninth boy I've bummed, and he's as good as any of them, pretty much. I slowly ease myself off him. He rolls onto his back.

Most of the other boys I've bummed have dry-cummed while I've been up them. He hasn't, but it's not a problem. I go straight down on him, sucking him right down to the base. It only takes a few seconds. He grabs my head as his cock swells and jerks in my mouth. Man! That was hot! I pause for us to get our breath back.

That's no surprise; he's like that.Over the past few days I've moved the camera and the lights down to the trunk store. I had to be very careful doing that; if anyone had seen me they might have asked some pretty awkward questions.

The first scene is probably he hardest. We start with Peter already with his shirt off, helping Rob remove his. Then they pull each other's shorts down and feel each other in their briefs. Finally Rob pulls down Peter's briefs so the kid's cock comes springing into view. That's a lot to fit into twenty seconds.

They go through it perfectly; from behind the camera it's looking just the way I hoped it would. It finishes with a great shot of Peter's dick as Rob pulls his briefs down.

It's overrun by four or five seconds, but that won't matter; we've got the difficult one out of the way. We move onto scene two; by contrast, this is the easy one. They're on the bed, naked. Rob's lying on his back; Peter's resting his head on Rob's tummy and sucking his cock.

I don't even need twenty seconds; I call "Cut!" a few seconds early. Scene three's a bit more complicated. Peter's sitting on the bed, back against the wall, his legs spread apart. Rob's kneeling in front of him sucking his cock. After a few seconds Peter pulls his knees up and Rob pushes his finger into Peter's bum, working it in and out.

I kill the lights to let the room cool down. So far so good; they've done everything perfectly. It's stuff they do all the time, of course, but not with the lights and the camera are on them.

"Great stuff, lads," I say quietly. "You've done fantastic; they're going to love it."

We all take a swig of water; Rob and Peter towel off; we're all sweaty after only a couple of minutes filming. I quickly run through the final scene.

"When I call cut, you just carry on," I tell them. "It just means I'm not filming any more. We don't want them seeing too much unless they're going to pay us for it."

I turn on the lights and they take their positions on the bed, Peter down on all fours, Rob behind him, sitting back on his heels.

The film starts to roll. Rob smears some KY onto his dick then gets up onto his knees. He moves in close. I move around slightly to get the best view of Rob's dick pushing into Peter's bum, getting in close as they start to fuck.

I switch off the lights and start to put everything away. On the bed, Rob's pounding Peter's arse like there's no tomorrow. Man! That is hot! I'm rock hard just watching them.

He grabs Peter round the hips, unloading his spunk into his younger friend's bum. Fuck! I hope they do it as well as that when we do it for real! Rob slowly pulls out and gets off the bed. I immediately take his place, pushing my shorts and briefs down to my knees. I don't need lube; I just stick it straight in.

I start to fuck him, reaching down to play with his rapidly hardening cock. I'm so sexed up after watching them do it, it only takes a couple of minutes. My balls pull up tight in their sac. I grab him round the hips, slamming right into him.

My cock jerks and pulses inside his hot little bum, three or four wads of spunk spurting into him. I take my time before pulling out. Spunk is oozing out of Peter's bum and dribbling down his legs. I'm going to get a shot of that the next time we do this. I get off the bed and quickly pull up my briefs and shorts.

Peter cleans himself up and gets dressed. I turn off the main ceiling light, using just my safety light to take the film out of the camera and put it into its box ready to be sent to Denmark. We tidy the room, leaving everything where it should be, and make our way out. That's the first part done.

"It's very good," he says, "but they're bound to know it's a kid that wrote it; the handwriting gives it away."

"Yeah, but so what?" I respond. "They want films they can sell; I don't think they care who makes them."

I get it all packed up. The next time I go into town I'll go into the post office and send it. Then like he says, we'll just have to wait and see.

It's the last Saturday of term, our final rugby match of the season. We've done well. After losing away to Queen Elizabeth's early on, we lost to them 19-22 at home, just one penalty kick separating the teams. We also lost 16-18 away at Martlington County Grammar School, so our record for the season stands played seventeen, won fourteen, lost three.

Well, today we've got them at home, and we're determined to put that right. It's going to be a tough match, Martlington's a big school with over a hundred boys a year to choose from, but we held them so close when we played them last term we're confident we can do it.

Mr. Halford even announced it in assembly, asking as many boys as possible to come out and support. We usually get about twenty kids watching, younger friends of some of the boys in the team plus about the same number who just enjoy watching the game. I wonder how many we'll get today.

Now I have to honest here; part of the reason for our success has been Jeremy. I know I don't like him and I think he's a snob, but he's captained the team pretty well, very well in fact.

If someone makes a mistake, he never criticises them, he'll just say, "Right, forget it lads, let's get back at them!" and that's an end of it. If we concede a try he'll say, "Okay lads, now lets get one back!" and most of the time we do.

At the end of our matches he speaks to everyone in the team, even me, just to say "Well played," or "You did really well today," or something like that. I guess Mr. Cooper's helped him quite a bit, telling him what he needed to do and that; even so, he's done far better than I thought he would.

We stride out onto the field. There must be at least sixty kids ranged along the touchlines. Wow! Almost all the teachers are there too, even Mr Chambers, the Headmaster, and we never see him! The whistle goes and we're off.

The match is the most intense I've ever played in; I guess they want to win as much as we do, but having so many kids out there shouting for us is a real boost. Even so, we're not able to dominate the way we often do. We edge ahead; they peg us back. At half time, we're leading 12-10.

They kick off for the second half; thirty minutes to go, and the most important thirty minutes any of us has ever played. The intensity level is unbelievable. Scores are traded back and forth with no quarter asked and none given. Man! This is a real rugby match!

Less than five minutes to go; everyone is desperately tired. Our defence cracks; we let them in for a try under the posts. They're now three points ahead; the routine conversion kick makes it five. Jeremy rallies the troops; there's still time.

We throw everything at them. With time running out we win a scrum fifteen yards from their goal line, ten yards in from the left hand touchline. It's probably our last chance.

We win the ball. I spin it out to Julian. In the best bit of running and handling we've managed all season, the ball goes quickly across our three quarter line to Jonathan on the right wing. They're just as tired as we are; Jon finds an extra turn of speed just when he needs it most, crashing over for a try in the corner.

We're now one point behind and time is up; as soon as the conversion kick has been taken, the referee will blow for full-time. If it goes over, we'll have won by one point; if it doesn't they've won.

For the past few matches Paz has taken the kicks at goal from this side of the field. He can't kick the ball as far as Julian does, but he's left-footed, making the kick much easier to judge.

As far as I remember, he's only missed one out of half a dozen or so, but those were in matches we were winning easily; he's never had to cope with this sort of pressure. Jeremy has a quiet word with him, asking him if he's okay to take it. He nods. This is it.

He places the ball then takes a few paces back. He stands there for a few seconds, composing himself. I can hardly bear to watch. He runs in and strokes it perfectly, right between the posts. What a star!

The referee blows for full time and the crowd erupts; Paz gets mobbed. Then we all get mobbed; you'd think we'd just won something really important. I guess we did; winning fifteen matches out of eighteen makes this the best season the school's ever had.

More than that, we proved that when the pressure was really on, we could perform. Everyone's played their part today, all fifteen of us. I'll never forget this match as long as I live.

"Well done today," he says to me, "and thanks for all your hard work through the season; it's been great."

"Well, we did it," he says, grasping Rob's hand, "the best season ever. This is all yours now; it's quite a bit to live up to. Good luck!"

We head back into the changing rooms, strip off and make for the showers. We're as high as kites, the whole lot of us, quickly forgetting how tired we are. We break into a rousing chorus of our favourite rugby song (to the tune of 'John Peel'):

I wouldn't say it's encouraged exactly, but it's 'traditional'. For once it's a tradition I don't actually mind.

I take it back to the dorm and put it in my locker. I'm itching to open it, but that doesn't seem fair somehow. I head out onto the playground. Rob's with the rest of the gang, just hanging out as usual. Shit! That means I'll have to wait. Finally I get him on his own.

"No, you've just as much right to see what it says as I have," I tell him. "We'll go to the dorm as soon as we've had lunch, okay?"

I take the letter from my locker. We sit on the bed. I open the envelope and remove its contents. We read through it. They really like the clips; describing them as 'high quality', and they've agreed to everything we asked for.

They won't sell it mail-order in this country; they won't sell it in the sex-shops either. For the title of the film they'll use German names, Carsten and Franz, so nobody will know where the boys come from, and they'll pay us two hundred pounds each, with the cheques made out in sterling.

All the colour has drained from Rob's face, like he'd expected them to tell us to fuck off. But they haven't. I don't think I've ever seen him looking so nervous, like he was about to go to the dentist to have a back tooth pulled out. I know he doesn't really want to do it; I guess he thought he wouldn't have to. But he won't let me down; he'd rather die than do that. This evening I'll write back and tell them; we'll make the film as soon as we get back after the holiday.

I'm on the train, heading back to London for the Easter holidays. In a way, I'm disappointed to be going home. If we'd had another couple of weeks I could have got the film made before we went down, but it'll keep. Right now I'm looking forward to getting together with my mates again and just hanging out, like we did last year, and having sex, of course; there's going to be plenty of that.

It's ten to four when I meet them coming out of school. They've all started secondary school now, Langdon High School. It's a decent school and they seem to have settled in okay. It's very big though; over twelve hundred kids; that's scary!

Jason and Carl appear first, followed by Richard. A few moments later Alan appears. They begin heading for home.

"He doesn't go to this school any more," Alan says, sounding uncomfortable. "They've moved away."

Moved away? That doesn't make sense! Sean's lived here all his life. I saw him only a few weeks ago when I was home for half term; he never mentioned it then. So what's happened?

I'm devastated. Up till I went to Hartswood, Sean was my best mate; we did everything together. Now he's suddenly not here any more. There's something else too, a sort of atmosphere. Something's happened that they don't want to talk about; I can sense it.

We carry on walking, just chatting about nothing in particular. Everyone's very quiet, nothing like we usually are. We reach Richard's road. I'm wondering if he's going to invite me to go home with him. He doesn't, just says goodbye and trots off on his own. Alan turns off next, leaving me with Carl and Jason.

He carries on the couple of hundred yards to where he lives. Jason and I go inside; we've got the place to ourselves.

"I guess you want to know what happened to Sean," he says quietly, not really looking at me.

"It was Friday night, the week after we went back to school," he says. Sean's mum had taken the other kids to this Irish dancing thing, but Sean didn't want to go, so he stayed behind with Brendan, you know, his stepdad. Well, I called him to ask him what he was doing. He said nothing much, asked me if I wanted to go round, so I did.

"Well, we hung out in his room for a bit then we went downstairs to watch something on telly. I could tell Brendan had had a few drinks but I never thought anything of it. Anyway, the programme we were watching finished, and suddenly we were all fooling about, you know, wrestling and that. I didn't mind; it was good laugh.

"Then suddenly Brendan grabbed me and pulled my jeans right down to my knees. I thought it was an accident at first, and Sean was laughing, but when I tried to pull them back up Brendan wouldn't let me. Then he felt me up in my underpants and tried to pull them down too. I freaked, man!

"I was holding my privates, crying, screaming at him to stop, Sean was screaming at him; it was bad, man! He wouldn't listen; just kept trying to pull my hands away and get my pants down. He'd got a big hard-on in his trousers; I could see it. I was scared shitless; I knew he wanted to do something bad. Then Sean bit his finger.

"Man! There was blood everywhere! He had to let me go then. I just pulled my jeans up and ran out of the house. I went straight home. Mum and dad knew something had happened; there was blood on my clothes for one thing. So I told them; I had to. Mum called the police. A few minutes later there were cop cars fucking everywhere! One came to our house; a couple went to Sean's house; they dragged Brendan out in handcuffs, well, that's what I heard the next day."

But I do believe it because of what Sean told me. I didn't think Brendan would be stupid enough to try anything; I guess it was because he'd been drinking. It's like what Selwyn told me about his dad; people do some terrible things when they're drunk.

"Well, the coppers wanted to talk to me, tell them exactly what happened," he says. "At first Brendan denied it all, but Sean told them as well, so he had to admit it; said he didn't know what he was doing 'cause he was drunk. Then they asked Sean if Brendan had ever touched him like that.

"Sean said he hadn't, but his mum was there by then, and you know what she's like; always blaming him for everything. Well the coppers said they wanted to have Sean medically examined."

I can feel the colour draining out of my face. I know what's coming next; he doesn't have to tell me.

"His mum said okay," he says, "so Sean had to go to the police doctor." He takes a deep breath.

"Brendan had been fucking his arse; seems like it had been going on for ages." He turns away. "Sean liked it," he croaks, like the words are sticking in his throat.

"Anyway," he continues, "the coppers kept asking Sean about who else had done it to him. He said nobody, it was just Brendan, but they still kept asking him, like they knew he'd done it with someone else. Well, his mum went mad; called him all the names under the sun, said she didn't want him any more. So Sean got taken into care and the rest of the family moved away somewhere; don't know where."

I feel numb. The coppers probably knew he'd been with someone else 'cause Richard had bummed him on the way home from school; something like that anyway. Sean would never have grassed him up; the coppers could have beaten him black and blue, he still wouldn't have said anything.

"Not sure," he says. "I heard he was going to these foster parents who look after kids who've been... you know."

"I couldn't believe Sean was like that," Jase continues, "you know, queer. I thought he was just an ordinary kid like us."

"Right, to make him let you go, and got himself into a whole pile of shit as a result."

"Yeah, I guess," he concedes. "I suppose you think I'm a grass for telling mum and dad."

"No, of course not," I say. "Sounds like you didn't have much choice. It's all Brendan's fault; you didn't know he'd been doing stuff with Sean."

"But I'll say one thing. Sean's part of our gang, one of us; he always has been. And if he turned up here now, he'd still be one of us, right?"

Hearing about what happened has knocked the stuffing right out of me. I'm worried about Sean, wondering how he's coping with it all. That's pretty stupid; Sean's as tough as old boots, a born survivor. If anyone can get through it, he will. There's fuck all I can do in any case. I can't help it though; I'm still worried.

I'm annoyed with myself too; I was much harder on Jason than I should have been. It must have been a terrible experience for him, Brendan going after him like that; I never even asked him how he was doing. As soon as he said about Sean being queer, that was it; I was off, like a dog with a bone. I just forgot everything else. I'll have to put that right when I get the chance.

My end of term report is the best I've ever had. Even dad couldn't find anything bad to say about it; he just muttered stuff about why it's taken me so long to get a report like that and I'd better keep it up and that was it. We seem to have reached a sort of, well, not a truce exactly, more of a stand-off. As long as I'm getting good grades and not getting into trouble, he'll stay off my back.

For our summer holiday this year we're going to Egypt, you know, the Valley of the Kings, looking at the Pyramids and all of that. Now if I could spend some time with Uncle Andrew so he could explain it all to me, tell me what to look for and a bit of the history, I'd probably enjoy it. But he's working in the States for the next few months, so I can't.

That means I'll get dragged round looking at stuff that I know bugger all about, with dad looking superior and not explaining a damn thing, just like he did in Greece two years ago. It's pathetic; I'll get bored shitless! Liz has already ducked out; she's going to be staying with some of her posh friends from this school she goes to.

"I don't know dear," she says sweetly. "You're only twelve and now that you're away at boarding school, we don't really know any of your friends."

Just in case you didn't get the hidden message, she's telling me I won't be allowed to stay with any of mates from round here, but I knew that anyway.

"But what if you chatted to their parents and that, and made sure everything was okay, what then?" I persist, unwilling to give up the idea without a fight.

"Well, I really can't say dear," she says. "We'll have to see. But you mustn't go inviting yourself; it's rude."

It's still worth a shot though. Rob or Justin might invite me to stay if they know the score. Justin's dad's almost a bishop; they can hardly object to me staying with him! Like she says, we'll have to see.

I walk up the Robinsons' drive and ring the bell. I'm here because Luke will think it's funny if I just don't turn up. I've nothing else to do in any case. I'm still feeling bad about what happened and still annoyed with myself for snapping at Jason the way I did. He's one of the gang too, and he was the one that got hurt. I'll have to apologise; I just hope he's all right with it.

"Hi Toby! Great to see you again!" he says, as bright and bubbly as ever. "How are things going?"

"Not really," I say. "Sean's been taken into care. There's been some domestic trouble, you know, private stuff. Nobody knows where he is."

"Oh, that's bad," he says. "I remember before you went to prep school you were with him all the time, causing mischief mostly."

"You know this trouble he's been in, it wasn't anything to do with, er... you know, was it?"

"Yeah, sort of," I say guardedly. "Don't worry; Sean's not a grass. He won't have said anything about coming here."

"Well that's a relief anyway," he says. "Sorry, that came out wrong," he continues, "it sounds like I don't care. I hope he's okay. It must be hard on you, not knowing where he is."

"Yeah, that's the worst part. Sean's as hard as nails; he'll be okay. He never got on with his mum in any case; she used to blame him for everything, even stuff that was nothing to do with him."

"Yeah, yesterday, when one of the other lads was telling me about it. He said he was surprised that Sean was 'queer'. I bit his head off and I shouldn't have."

"We can just lie here and hang out if you want," he says gently. "We don't have to have sex if you're not feeling like it."

"Fantastic!" he replies, smiling warmly. "Callum's great. He doesn't play, but he's really got into the music. He always comes to watch when I'm doing a gig, helps set the gear up, you know. I really appreciate that; it means I can concentrate on playing.

"Oh, yeah!" he says, almost laughing. "He's great at that too; I don't know what I'd do without him. Of course, we've both got senior boys that we go with, but somehow I think I like being with him better."

"He tells me he does high jump in the summer," he continues. "He didn't exactly say, but I get the impression he's pretty good."

"Yeah, very good in fact," I say, smiling back at him. "He broke the school record before he left."

"I'll have to go and support him when he's competing," he says. "It'll be my chance to pay him back for all the times he's come to watch me."

Finally, I've begun to relax. I snuggle up close, savouring Luke's warmth and closeness. Within a minute I've got a hard-on, not surprising really; I was so down last night I never even had a wank. Luke runs his fingers down my thigh.

I turn to face him. He's pretty special. I can't believe how much he's changed, or maybe I never really knew him before. Right now I like him a lot.

Our lips meet in a gentle, sensuous kiss, our tongues intertwined. There's nothing forced; we're doing it because it's what we both want.

I put my hand on the front of his shorts; his cock's rock hard, throbbing like crazy. We slowly undress each other. He looks better than ever, lean and firm, the muscles on his chest and tummy absolutely perfect. I skin his underpants down his legs.

His cock's grown too, and the short straggly pubes that he had last October have developed into a neat little patch, thick and almost jet black.

I settle my head on his tummy, taking his cock into my mouth, sucking it deeper and deeper till his pubes are tickling my nose. With one hand he strokes my hair; his other hand pushes down inside my briefs, his fingers massaging my bum.

I let my lips slide right up to the top. I work my tongue all over the shiny purple head then push right down again. I suck him some more; his breathing starts to get ragged.

He pulls down my briefs. I kneel across his chest, crawling forwards slightly as he props himself up on his elbows. I feed my cock into his mouth and start to fuck, holding his head to keep him in position. He grips me round the thighs, urging me on. I fuck harder.

After missing out last night I don't last very long; after barely a minute I can feel my muscles go tight, my balls pulling up tight in their sac. A moment later my cock jerks violently, three or four volleys of spunk spurting into his mouth. He swallows it eagerly, licking up every drop. I carefully ease away, sitting back on his tummy.

"Oh, that was good, man!" he says, licking his lips, his eyes sparkling. "Are you ready for me to bum you or do you want to wait for a bit?"

We spread a towel over the bed, a necessary precaution these days, although I'm not sure it will be this time, having only just cum. I get onto all fours. Luke takes his tube of KY from its hiding place and moves round behind me.

"You really like it like this, don't you?" he comments, working some lube into my hole.

He lubes up his dick and moves in close, guiding it onto its target. He pushes forward; I relax, letting him enter. I get about half of it. He really has grown; last October I took the whole thing in one hit.

He holds me round the hips, gradually pulling me onto him. He pushes over my prostate. My still-sensitive cock twitches sharply; it makes my eyes water. Another few seconds and I've got the whole thing, his pubes brushing my arse.

"Yeah, do it, man!" I say, "Just don't touch my dick, not for the moment anyway."

He starts to move, gradually building it up till he hits the perfect rhythm. It's perfect for me too; my dick's rock hard again and beginning to throb. Man! I really needed this! He ploughs on, his breathing getting harsher with every thrust.

He slams it right in; his cock swelling and jerking deep inside me, his spunk flooding over and over into my arse. Wow! That was unreal! I can't tell you how good it was.

He plunges down, his warm, wet mouth enveloping my cock, sucking me like it was going out of fashion. I'm so giddy I'm almost delirious, mouthing all sorts of shit; I hardly know which planet I'm on. I've no idea how long I last; it feels like about ten seconds but it could have been longer, or maybe shorter. I'm that far gone I really don't know.

Then my cock rears up in his mouth, a couple more jets of spunk squirting down his throat. I push him away; my dick's so sensitive I just have to. I lie there, gasping for breath, completely out of it. Man, that was real, hot sex. It's become so much a part of me, I can't imagine life without it.

The other lads are finishing school today; they're coming home at lunchtime, half past twelve. At quarter to one I set off for Jason's house, to see if I can catch him on his own. I walk up the drive of their small, neat house and ring the bell. Jason opens the door, still in his school uniform.

"I just wanted to say sorry for snapping at you yesterday," I say quietly. "I was out of order. You were the one that got attacked and I never even asked you how you are."

"I'm okay," he says casually. "I mean, he never actually got to do anything. You were right anyway; I shouldn't be saying bad things about Sean. If it hadn't been for him, I would have got hurt."

"Thanks, that's great," I say, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief; I'm lucky that he took it like that.

"Hello Toby!" she says brightly. "Nice to see you; Jason told us you were back. How are you getting on? Jason says you're not as much of a hell-raiser as you used to be."

"Yeah, well I'm growing up, I guess," I say, giving her and embarrassed grin. "I'm in the school rugby team now; I wouldn't be allowed to play if I kept getting into trouble."

"Thanks," I say. I take a deep breath. "I just want to say how sorry I was to hear about what happened round at Sean's house. It must have been a terrible shock. It's great that Jason's come through it okay."

"Well, there have been a few nightmares, haven't there Jason?" she says, looking suddenly serious.

"But that's not the worst part," she continues. "Jason used to be really easy going, got on with everybody. Now he's very wary around older men, especially some of the teachers he's got. That's a shame; I think it'll take quite some time before he gets over it."

"Lunch will be about twenty minutes," his mum says. "Stay and have a bite to eat with us if you want, Toby; there's plenty."

"Yeah, thanks," I say, smiling at her. I feel more welcome here than I do at home.

Jason jerks his head at me and I follow him to his bedroom. He begins to change out of his school clothes.

"Toby," he asks. "You know you're at a boarding school with a lot of other boys. Do the boys, you know, do stuff together?"

"You said 'some of us'" he says, eyeing me quizzically. "So does that mean you do it?"

"I just wondered, that's all," he says absently. He pauses for a couple of seconds while he pulls his school trousers off. "I hope you don't mind me asking," he continues, "but have you, you know, taken it up the bum?"

Now I could quite easily lie; he wouldn't know any different, but that's just not my style.

"Depends who you're with," I tell him. "If you're with someone you really like and they take it slow, it feels great. It did hurt a bit the first couple of times, but I still liked it."

"Oh," he says, standing there just in his underpants. "Ever since it happened, then finding out about Sean, I've wondered what is must be like; I can't stop thinking about it."

"I can't show you that," I say grinning at him, "at least not now, but I can show you what something else feels like."

I kneel in front of him, pulling his underpants down to his knees. He makes no attempt to stop me. His cock's just over three inches long, slim and uncut, a little nozzle of foreskin sticking out past the tip. I lick my lips and take it into my mouth, sucking it right down to the base, my fingers caressing his marble-sized balls. He rests his hands on my head, moaning quietly, his breathing ragged and uneven. Almost without warning his muscles go tight. He grabs my head, pushing me right down on him.

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooooohh!!" he gasps, his cock jerking three or four times against the roof of my mouth.

"Fuck, man!" he breathes, his eyes sparkling. "That was far out! Wow! I never knew it felt like that!"

"No," I tell him, quickly deciding that this is one lie I have to tell. "I'd no more idea about him than you did."

We're two hungry twelve year olds. Sex is quickly forgotten as we head down to the kitchen.

Well, the holiday didn't turn out anything like I'd thought it would. Still, it was okay, I guess. I had sex with Luke pretty much every day, Monday to Friday. I messed about with Jason a couple more times as well, but only when he suggested it. We didn't go very far. I sucked him off, he gave me a wank; that was it.

He liked seeing me squirt 'cause he can't do that yet; the first time we did it his eyes were as big as saucers! But after what happened, I wasn't going to push it. I'd love to have bummed him, but he's still pretty confused; I wasn't going to risk trying it unless he asked me to. Well, he didn't so that was that.

Piers was away for the entire holiday, so I never saw him. Strange, but I was quite pleased about that; I wasn't really up for the sort of wild sex we have when he's there. I didn't get together with Richard either. He never asked me to go round to his house, so I didn't. I think he's been badly shaken up by the whole thing. Well, I guess the coppers did get pretty close to finding out what he'd been up to. If Sean wasn't so tough, they probably would have done.

The one thing that's gnawing away at me is not knowing where Sean is and how he's getting on. That's really bugging me. I know it's stupid because there wouldn't be much I could do, even if he was having a bad time, but I just want him to know that he's still my best mate ever and if there's anything I can do to help him, I'll do it.

We pull into East Croydon Station; we've not far to go now. I'll be back at school in under an hour.

It's going to be a busy term. I'll be in the cricket team as the all-rounder; that'll mean matches every Saturday and most Wednesdays, unless it's raining of course, and practice in between.

I still want to film some of the athletics training too, especially the hurdles and the high jump. I'm a lot more confident about it this year. Last year I just found a filming position that worked and that was it. This year I've got some new stuff I want to try, you know, different positions to film from, and anyway, I know Will likes me being there.

Then I've got 'the project' to finish. I've got it all planned; if everything works out, we'll film the first couple of scenes this week and the rest of it next week. Then we'll have to wait and see what happens. I just hope nothing goes wrong, 'cause we could be in the shit if it does.

I'm not that worried about me, but I'd hate myself if I got Rob and Peter into trouble. Still, I've thought of everything, or tried to; I can't do any more.

Finally, we'll have exams just before the end of term, the last ones we'll have before we sit Common Entrance. From the results, they'll decide which of us they'll put forward for the Public School Scholarship exams; usually they only enter three or four boys a year. I guess you might be surprised that I even want to do that, but I do.

It's like this. I say what I think and I like to be able to do the thingsI want to do, and to do them the way I want to do them. Now something I've worked out is that to get away with that you need to be very, very good, so if I'm going to be able to do what I want to do, I won't just have to be as good as everyone else, I'll have to be better.

Getting a scholarship to one of the top public schools is just a start, and anyway, it'll be one in the eye for my arsehole of an old man. With all that going on, how I'm going to find the time to be seeing Ian and Alex, I really don't know. I guess I'll manage it somehow.

For the rest of the journey I amuse myself by counting all the boys I know that have a younger 'friend'.

I make it ten, all members of the rugby team. Seven from upper fourth, Jeremy, Giles, Max, Julian, Brian, Ashton and Jonathan; the other three are from Lower Fourth. There's me and Rob, of course; the other one's Paz.

He hooked up quite early on with a third year boy called Simon Whitney, the fourth member of the Eagle Dorm 'sex club', as Giles described it, the other three being Lee Sheldon, Patrick Naylor and Deon Hayes.

Simon's very cute; not quite as stunning as Patrick or Darren Proctor, but still very cute. It seems he was a bit quicker off the mark than the others; last year he was going with Tim Westlake, one of Russell's mates. Tim's left now, of course, so this year Simon had a bit of a problem; none of this year's Upper Fourth wanted him because he'd been with someone before.

Well, being new, Paz wouldn't have known, and probably wouldn't have cared anyway. He was in a new school and within the first few weeks he'd found himself a cute boy to fuck. What more could he ask for?

We're sitting around in the dorm, me, Rob, Will and Justin, just talking about this and that.

"We're going to Egypt in the summer," I tell them, "looking at the Pyramids and all that stuff. It's not bad if you know what you're looking at, but I haven't got a clue. My older sister doesn't have to go; she's going to stay with one of her friends. I asked mum if I could do that, but she was a bit funny about it. I don't know why I bothered anyway; I haven't got anyone to stay with."

"You could come and stay with us," he says quietly. "We're not going away till the middle of August. I've got twin beds in my room, so the sleeping arrangements are no problem. I'll have to ask, but it should be okay."

I meet Rob and Peter outside the art room, as arranged. I lead the way to the trunk store and let us in. I've already got everything set up; now we've got to do it. I'm more nervous about this then I've ever been about anything; I can see Rob's looking pretty apprehensive too. Peter, on the other hand, is revelling in it; he can't wait to get started.

For the first part I've got the camera facing the bed. They sit snuggled up together, stroking and fondling, then start to undress each other.

They do it beautifully, carefully removing each other's sweater and shirt. It's so exciting to watch it's as much as I can do to hold the camera still. Rob's not really into kissing, but I've persuaded him to do it 'for the camera'. Well, you'd never know it's not really his thing! I zoom in on them as their tongues dance together. That is hot!

After a few seconds I pull back again. They stand up and face each other. Rob reaches forward, opens the clip and the top of Peter's shorts and pulls down the zip. Peter wiggles sexily, allowing them to fall to the floor, the hard bulge in his briefs clearly visible. He then opens Rob's shorts, putting his hands inside and running them over Rob's hips, pushing the shorts down his older friend's thighs.

He kneels on the floor, reaches up and skins Rob's underpants down his legs, exposing Rob's thick five inch cock with low hanging balls and a little patch of pubic hair. He licks his lips then takes it into his mouth, sucking it right down to the base. He sucks up and down a few times, Rob gently stroking his hair, then slides right back up, working his tongue all over the swollen purple head before plunging back down again.

Rob and Peter quickly towel off then we re-position the lights. I position my self near the door so that I'm looking along the full length of the bed. Rob sits on the bed with Peter facing him.

Rob reaches out and pulls down Peter's underpants; they fall to the floor. Rather theatrically, Peter kicks them off. Rob smiles, leans forwards and takes Peter's slim uncut cock fully into his mouth, sucking it eagerly. I count to ten.

"That was great," I tell them, delighted that all the preparation I've done seems to have paid off. "Even better than I thought it'd be."

Peter and Rob rub themselves down again. With the lights on for over five minutes it's got very warm. We all take a swig from the bottle of water I've brought. The next scene's the easy one. The two of them lie side by side on the bed with Rob nearest the camera. Peter rests his head on Rob's tummy and sucks his cock while Rob strokes his hair.

"Toby," Peter asks. "You know if we're not doing the fucking scene till next Tuesday, why don't I suck Rob right off, you know, make him cum?"

Now I hadn't thought of that. It'd certainly spice things up a bit. In the films that Mr. Atkinson had, you never saw any of the boys cum at all.

"And when Rob says he's cumming bring your head right back up and open your mouth a bit so we can actually see the spunk, okay?"

"Cool!" he says, grinning back. "I'll let some of it dribble out of my mouth then lick it up again afterwards."

I'm a bit shocked by how keen he is, but I'm certainly not complaining. Man, he's a natural! We get ourselves ready.

It goes like clockwork. After a minute or so I move in to get a real good close-up of the sucking action, give it around thirty seconds then slowly move out again. If this comes out as well as I think it should, it's going to be as good as any of the stuff Mr. Atkinson had, better probably. I check my watch; we've been going for almost four minutes.

I zoom in close. Peter does exactly what we agreed. A couple of seconds later Rob's dick jerks powerfully, his white, creamy spunk spurting onto Peter's tongue. A second squirt quickly follows, some of it escaping from the corner of Peter's mouth and running down his chin. He dives right down as Rob's cock jerks another two or three times. His lips slide back up and let it go.

He squeezes out the last of the cum then licks it up eagerly. He grins at the camera then uses one finger to wipe Rob's spunk off his face. He grins again and puts it sexily into his mouth.

I kill the lights. I'm on cloud nine and then some; that went better than I'd ever dreamed of! Man, Peter is unbelievable! Rob quickly towels off and starts to get dressed.

I grab a pillow and throw it into the middle of the bed. I'm so sexed-up I'd fuck next door's cat if it gave me the chance.

He gets into position, legs apart, his bum sticking up invitingly. I open my shorts and push down the front of my underpants. I take out my trusty tube of KY and smear some over my cock. I lower myself onto him. He's used to taking Rob's; mine's not going to be a problem for him even if I haven't lubed him up. I aim my dick onto its bum-hole and push. It goes right in.

Within a few seconds I'm bumming him as hard as I can go. Two minutes pass, maybe three. My nostrils greedily suck in his sexy boy-smell, pushing me on to even greater efforts. Beneath me, his quiet moans and gasps increase to a sudden crescendo. He bucks violently, his bum squeezing tight around my dick. For a moment, he knocks me off my stroke. I recover in an instant, pounding his cute little arse for all I'm worth.

Ten more thrusts, a dozen at most, and everything goes mad. Stars flash in front of my eyes; the whole room seems to shake. I grab Peter's upper arms, burying my cock deep inside him. A moment later my spunk surges through it, spurting powerfully into his bum like it's going to go on forever. Finally it stops; I collapse on top of him. Man! That was way out!

I'm so tired it feels like I could sleep for a week. Not before I've had a shower though; I stink!

Our cricket season begins with a home match against Alsford Grange. Giles wins the toss and decides to bat. I settle down to watch. Brian Harper and Jonathan Moore are opening the innings. Jonathan bats left handed, the same as I do. He's very solid in defence, but unlike me he's not a big hitter of the ball, just pushing it and nudging it for ones and twos. At the other end Brian, batting right handed, is far more aggressive. It's a partnership that ought to work well.

And for five and a bit overs it works very well. Then Brian goes after a wide one and gets a thick outside edge, presenting gully with a routine catch. He's out for a well-played twenty three; the score 32 for 1. Giles strides to the crease. He's an excellent player, maybe not quite as good as Russell, but excellent none the less; I love watching him. He's got a different style, more elegant, more classical, especially off the front foot, using his height and reach to punish anything that's over-pitched.

It's obvious from the first few balls that he's in great touch, a flashing cover drive reaching the boundary before the fielders have even moved. At the other end Jonathan just keeps working the ball around, giving Giles as much of the strike as possible. We're playing twenty five overs a side and I'm due to bat at number seven; if they carry on like they are doing, I probably won't be needed.

Fifteen overs gone and the score approaching a hundred, Giles aims a drive to a ball that's not quite up there. He holes out at mid off, missing his half century by four runs. Still, that's very good at this level, a lot more than I've ever managed. In the very next over Jonathan plays a tired-looking shot, wafting at one outside the off stump without much foot movement. He edges it to first slip. He's gone for a very patient twenty one with the score on 93 for 3.

Hugh Cameron and Julian Lees are both right handers. Hugh's very solid in the same way that Jonathan is. He can actually hit the ball is hard as anyone in the team; he just doesn't do it very often. Julian's much more of a stroke player, but after a couple of overs he goes for one shot too many and gets his off stump flattened. He's gone for twelve with the score on 110 for 4.

He strides out to the middle. It's the first match for him the same as it is for me. He's a bit tentative at first but he's soon playing quite fluently, including one off-drive for four. Then he gets a short one and chops it onto his stumps. He's out for seven; the score's 119 for 5.

Now it's my turn. I take my time, trying to be as patient as I can. After a couple of overs I've scored eleven, a couple of fours and three singles. I'm seeing the ball well and feeling comfortable. The next ball is just outside my off stump. I aim to pull it through mid wicket, but it's pitched too far up for that shot. I get an inside edge and perish the same way Craig did.

Bollocks! I stomp off feeling annoyed with myself. I was batting on a good pitch against some fairly ordinary bowling. A score of twenty odd not out was there for the taking. There was no need to play a shot like that. That's another opportunity I've missed.

The innings closes with the score on 143 for 8. One hundred and forty four in twenty five overs will take a great deal of getting.

After a thirty-minute refreshment break it's their turn to bat. Ashton Hayes opens the bowling from one end, Rob from the other. They both bowl superbly; after eight overs we've got them in all sorts of trouble at 38 for 5, with Ashton taking three wickets and Rob two. It's time for them to take a break before they start getting tired.

They're replaced by Jeremy from one end and Paz from the other, both bowling brisk medium pace. After another five overs, the score's edged on to fifty three, with both batsmen looking quite comfortable. They're not going to win, playing like that; they're not scoring fast enough, but they're trying to grind it out for as long as they can.

"See if you can dislodge one of these two," he says. "We want to get this over with."

My first over is uneventful. I concentrate on line and length and concede two singles, the batsmen taking no risks at all. Jeremy's next over meets more or less the same fate. It's time for something a little more adventurous. I'm bowling to their weaker player, who came in at number seven.

I set the field the way I want it then begin with two perfectly standard deliveries. He meets them with a dead bat. It's time to spring the trap. I toss the next ball up, giving it much more air. His eyes light up. He comes down the wicket, aiming to hit it over the top, but doesn't quite get there. Actually, he still connects pretty well, but not well enough. Rob trots in a few yards from long-on and takes a neat catch.

Their next batsman seems pretty clueless. His first ball is wide of off-stump. He swishes at it without making contact. I fire the next one in low, full and straight. He misses it completely and loses his middle stump. That's 58 for 7 and it's all over bar the shouting. I've got one ball left. I pitch it fairly full, a foot or so outside the off-stump.

The new batsman swings at it, edging it through the vacant gully area. They scamper through for a single. I'm not sure that was a good idea; I'm pretty sure I know what Giles will do now. He doesn't disappoint, handing the ball straight to Ashton.

It's no contest, three wickets in five balls, one caught behind the other two clean bowled, with their number three batsman left stranded at the non-strikers end on thirty one not out; it's a very comfortable victory.

Rob, Peter and me. If things go as well as they did last Thursday and everything works okay, the film's going to be better than any of the ones Mr. Atkinson had. For scene three Rob and Peter are lying on the bed again, only this time I've got Peter nearest the camera. Rob's sucking his cock and fingering his bum.

For the first couple of minutes I concentrate on the sucking, with Rob working his lips and tongue over the full length of Peter's cock. He lubes up his fingers and slips his hand between Peter's legs, Peter pulling up his knees to give him better access. I stop the camera, move around the bed till I've got a perfect view of the action and set it rolling again.

As usual, I start with the longest shot I can get, gradually moving in to get a close up of Rob's fingers working in and out of Peter's bum before pulling back again.

"Okay," I say quietly. "This is the big one. You've done everything perfectly so far; let's make sure this is as good."

"I haven't cum for two days," he says, giving me a wry grin. "Last night I had to tell Will I wasn't feeling very well or he'd have wondered what was going on."

They move into their new position, just like I had them for the trailer, Peter down on all fours, Rob behind him sitting on his heels smearing KY over his dick. Rob puts down the KY, getting up on his knees and crawling forward until his cock's right on Peter's bum-hole. With one well-practised thrust he pushes it about halfway in, then holds Peter round the thighs, gradually pulling him back till his young friend is fully impaled on his cock. He starts to fuck.

Over the next few minutes I film it from every angle you can think of, I even get a close up from between Rob's feet, giving a clear view of his cock pounding Peter's arse. Peter really plays to the camera; he bangs his head on the mattress, moaning and grimacing to emphasise the pain and pleasure he's experiencing. Rob starts to get close.

I move back to get a full view of his orgasm. Finally he sinks down over Peter's back, gasping for breath. After a few seconds he gently pulls out.

Rob eases himself off the bed and moves out of the way, Peter remaining perfectly still just like I told him. I move round behind. Peter's bum-hole is twitching like crazy, the area to either side glowing bright red.

He waits for a few seconds then farts, Rob's spunk squirting and sputtering out of his bum and dribbling down his legs. Rob had plenty to give him, there's no doubt about it. That was even better than I'd hoped for.

I move into position, opening the top of my shorts. This time I don't even need to lube myself, I just stuff it right in. I can't believe how messy his bum is; Rob must have cum loads. I grab him round the hips, fucking him like it was going out of fashion. He moans and whimpers like I was really hurting him. I reach down and fondle his cock.

Almost immediately it cums to life between my fingers, his bum tightening sharply round my dick. A few more thrusts and I'm cumming too, my spunk spurting repeatedly into his cute little bum. Wow! That was good! I slowly withdraw, a load more spunk leaking out of his bum.

I help him to clean up, giving him some cotton wool to put inside his briefs. We get dressed and put everything back where it should be. Tomorrow or the next day I'll come back and take the film out of the camera. By Friday afternoon it'll be on its way to Denmark.

I head out onto the field with my camera. I've been so busy it's only the second time this term. It's a warm spring afternoon, just about perfect. Will's over by the high jump area, sitting on the grass watching some of the younger boys. I recognise one of them immediately, Gavin, Ian's mate, tall for his age and pencil slim, just like Will.

I move in and start filming. The kid isn't wearing any underpants. With him being so skinny, as he goes over the bar you can see, well, everything! I don't usually get a hard-on when I'm out here filming, but I just did. Man! That is hot! I hardly know where to put myself. I guess it's time to go.

I stroll across to the long jump pit. Alex is there. That's no surprise; since we sorted out the problem with him getting picked on he's proved himself to be pretty useful at most sports. He grins as he sees me walking towards him. I smile back and crouch down to film his next jump. He's quick and graceful; he makes it look beautiful.

I move on again; there are a few things I want to film before I go back to spend some time with Will. I don't usually take much notice of the shot putt because there's not much to film, but as I walk past I glance across. Jeremy's there with Adam Hayward and a kid I can't quite place. Then I spot Selwyn sitting a few yards away, watching.

Fuck! It's Grant! It's not surprising I didn't recognise him, for one thing we don't usually get to do shot putt until we're in Lower Fourth, but that's not why I didn't know who it was. He's taller, nowhere like as fat as he was, and he can putt the shot almost as far as Jeremy. It's quite a transformation. I sit down next to Selwyn.

"Yes. Since you told me about him getting into the rugby team I started reading all about what you have to do to get fit. Then I got him to come down to the gym in the afternoons to work on it. He hated it at first; I used to have to shout at him to make him do it, but he really enjoys it now."

"Well, sort of," he says looking a bit embarrassed. "When things started going wrong at home and I started being stupid, you know, being horrible to everybody, Grant was the only friend I had left. Then when it all got better, I couldn't just leave him. Well, like I told you, he's always thought he was useless, but after what you said I decided he wasn't going to be useless any more."

"Oh," he says, looking intently at Grant. "He's still not as fit as I want him to be."

I like this kid; I guess I can see a lot of myself in him. He made up his mind to do something then he went ahead and did it; found out what he needed to know and just got on with it. He didn't let anyone tell him he couldn't; he wasn't even deterred by the fact that Grant didn't want to do it. That takes balls.

"You know the funny thing?" he asks. "Since he started to get fit, he's completely changed. He used to be really lazy; well he's not any more. Mr. Halford's told him that if he keeps improving he'll be moved into the top group for some of his classes."

Up close he's even more impressive; he's going to be very useful in the scrum next rugby season.

"How did you get to be doing the shot?" I ask. "We don't usually learn that till Lower Fourth."

"Selwyn asked Mr. Cooper if I could," he says. "Well, he'd seen us working together in the gym so he said yes. Anyway, I'm bigger than most of the Lower Fourth kids."

"I'm actually heavier than I was before," he says, still grinning. "Only most of it's muscle now."

"By the time we come back in September, it'll all be muscle," Selwyn says, a determined look in his eye.

"I hope you're going to come to the rugby trials," I say to Grant. "We need guys with your sort of power. I don't think the opposing forwards are going to like it much."

I wander back to the high jump area. If I hadn't seen it for myself, I wouldn't have believed it, and it's mainly down to Selwyn. That kid is something else.

I open the door to the trunk store and let us in, me and Alex that is. I've been so busy since we got back to school it's only the second time I've brought him here. Oh, we've done it a few times in the boys' room by the science lab, but that's always a bit of a rush. Coming here is much better, much more relaxed. It means I can have him naked too, and if there's one kid I love to see naked it's him; his body is perfect.

We help each other out of our clothes. Finally, I pull down his underpants. His uncut cock's developing nicely, still quite slim but nearly four inches long. His balls are plump and round, still pulled up tight in their sac, but looking like they'll be ready to drop at any time. His birthday's in early October, a few days before mine; I reckon he'll probably be able to cum by then.

He returns the favour and we climb on the bed. I wrap my arms round him, our lips meeting in the most wonderful kiss ever, his tongue wrestling with mine; I can hardly believe how affectionate he is.

"I love you, too." I tell him. "And I'm really proud of you; you've done great these last few months. It had to be hard, dealing with all the shit that you went through, but you've come out on top."

"Thanks!" he says, kissing my nose. "I wouldn't have if it hadn't been for you."

"Yeah, I think so," he says. "I used to play a lot when I was at home; er, I mean back in South Africa."

"Yours!" he says, giggling. "Nah! Both the centres this year were Upper Fourth so I'll try for that; I think I stand a chance there."

He snakes around, his head resting on my tummy. He licks the head of my cock then dives right down on it. He sucks beautifully; the sensations are something else. I stroke his hair. He caresses my balls and gently massages the sensitive area behind them. Man! That is far out! I'm getting close.

He lets me go and flops down next to me, a big grin on his face. It's time to return the favour.

I lick my way down his body, paying attention to both nipples and his cute little tummy button. Pretty soon I reach my prize, licking it all over then taking it fully into my mouth. He squirms around on the bed, grabbing my head, fucking his dick right into my throat. I grab the KY and quickly lube my fingers. I push my hand between his legs; a moment later my middle finger is sliding in and out of his bum.

I let him go and sit back on my heels, quickly smearing KY over my dick. He moves into position, down on all fours, just the way I like best, his bum-hole twitching invitingly. I move in behind him, my guiding my cock right onto its target.

I don't need to be asked twice. I hold him round the hips and set to work, fucking him with long, powerful thrusts. He moans quietly, almost begging for more. I reach down and play with his stiff, throbbing cock. Several minutes pass. Suddenly, his whole body bucks wildly, his bum clamping tight round my dick. His cock comes to life between my fingers, swelling and jerking, trying to pump out the spunk his balls aren't quite making yet.

He's taken me right over the brink. I slam into him one final time, my spunk spurting over and over into his bum. I sink down over his back, totally drained. Man! I'll never get tired of fucking cute boys like him; that is the best!

I check the pigeon holes outside the main office, just like I've been doing every day for almost a week. There it is, a handwritten envelope addressed to Toby Redman, postmarked Copenhagen. The overwhelming feeling is one of relief. I was sure they'd pay us what they agreed, well, it looks like they have.

I head back to the dorm. There's nobody about.I'd prefer to open it when I've got Rob and Peter with me, but that's less important this time. I mean, if they were going to cheat us out of our money they wouldn't have replied at all. I quickly slit it open; a letter and three cheques, just like we agreed.

I look at my cheque. It's made out for two hundred and twenty five pounds; we agreed to two hundred. I look at the others; they're for two hundred and twenty five as well. They've given us a bonus! Man, they must be pleased! I quickly read the letter.

Dear Toby,

The film has come out even better than we expected. There was very little we needed to cut, the final film runs for sixteen minutes and thirty seconds. That is excellent, and the high technical quality and the additional features that you've included will be very popular with our customers.

It's unfortunate that we are not able to sell it in certain places, but even with these restrictions, we feel sure that it will become one of our biggest sellers.

That is why we have included a little bonus for you all.

We are looking forward to your next film project, with different boys, of course. There will be no need to send a preview; based on what you have provided for us on this occasion we will be quite happy to pay the same amount again.

And just one final point, we will be happy to send you the first copy of the film, assuming that you have the facility to view it. We can parcel it up so that it would just look like a package from your pen-friend.

Please let us know if you would like us to do this.

All the planning and hard work have paid off; the feeling of euphoria is overwhelming. I want to run round the school and tell everyone.

I can't, of course, which is frustrating in a way, but keeping it as our secret is pretty special too. Now they want another one, but with different boys. I'm going to need to think about that; I certainly haven't got anyone lined up. I won't be able to do another one this term in any case, I'm far too busy.

There's another problem too; the more boys that get involved, the greater the chances that the school will find out what's going on. I'm going to need to be very careful. And finally, what about their offer?

It would be very risky, having something like that sent here, but I've got the projector and I know how to use it. And of course I want to see the film, just to see how good it is. It's too good an opportunity to miss.

"They're so pleased with it they even paid us a bonus," I say, handing Rob his cheque.

"Look, Toby," he continues, looking uncomfortable, "getting the money's great, but I don't want to do another one, okay?"

"Yeah, that's cool," I tell him. "They want one with different boys in it; I'll have to work on that."

"Sure," he says. "I've told Peter to meet you by the art room; half past seven."

"No," he says, shaking his head. "That would be so embarrassing. How are you going to watch it anyway?"

"I've still got the projector that Atkinson used," I say casually. "He left it behind."

"I will," I assure him. "I'm not going to drop you in it. The film's going to be well hidden."

For once, Peter's waiting near the art room when I get there. I lead the way to the trunk store and usher him inside.

"Well, there you are then," I say, handing him the cheque. "You're sure you know what to do with it?"

"Of course I do," he says, sounding a little put out. "So when are we going to do another one?"

"Well, it'll have to be next term," I say defensively, "but they want one with different boys in it."

I'm disappointed too; Peter's such a natural. "I might be able to work something out," I say. "Would you be up for doing one with a younger boy?"

"With me bumming him?" he asks. "That'd be ace! I could even do that with Alex."

"Well, don't even mention it to Alex, okay?" I say. "I'm not sure if he'd be right for it."

"They're sending me a copy of the one we just did," I say. "D'you want to watch it?"

"You bet!" he says, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. "I don't think Rob will though."

"Of course!" he says nonchalantly. "I thought that's why you arranged to meet me here."

"I told Rob I was just going to give you the cheque," I say. "We'll need to make it quick. And no saying anything afterwards, okay?"

I take the pillow from its hiding place and put it on the desk. "Bend over!" I tell him.

He positions himself over the desk. I reach round, undoing the clip on his shorts and pulling down the zip. They fall to the floor. I skin his underpants down his legs; he's got a beautiful bum.

I quickly lube him up; Rob fucked him before prep so he doesn't need much. I move in behind him and push. A moment later I'm in him right up to my balls. Well, he might be well used to taking it but he still feels good to me; within a few seconds I'm bumming him like the world's about to end. He loves it! I slide my hand down and fondle his cock.

Almost without warning he bucks violently, his bum tightening round my dick. His cock swells and jerks between my fingers. I'm guessing he'll be able to cum pretty soon, the same as Alex. I'm really going for it, fucking him as hard as I can go. A few more thrusts and I'm there, my spunk unloading into his bum. Man! I liked that!

After a few seconds to get my breath back I carefully pull out. We start to get dressed.

"Twice in one day!" Peter comments, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "I wish we could do that all the time." It's hard to imagine, but I reckon he's even more obsessed with sex than I am.

Now that I've had the letter from Denmark I'm not expecting anything, but you never know. But I have got something, another letter. I look at the envelope; it's hand-written in what looks like kid's writing. I can't think who'd be writing to me here. My mates from home have all got the address, but they've never written to me since I started, not even once.

I check the postmark; it says Bromley. That's even stranger; Bromley's in south east London, right over the other side from where we live. I don't know anyone from there. This is weird! Something tells me not to read it right here. I hurry back to the dorm and open it. Inside is one sheet of paper covered in large, untidy scrawl. I scan to the bottom. It's from Sean! I read it through, hardly able to contain my excitement.

Hi Toby!

I just wanted to let you know I'm okay.

My foster parents are all right. They're a bit strict, but they don't bark at me the whole time like mum used to. They look after me pretty good too. The thing is they always want to know where I'm going and who I'm with. Mum and Brendan never bothered. And they talk to me a lot about what happened.

I don't get it. I liked what Brendan and I did together so I don't know why they make such a big deal out of it. Okay, he shouldn't have gone for Jason like that. He only did it cause he'd had too much to drink. He's an idiot; he'll be in jail for years.

The new school's not bad, except it's mixed, boys and girls. It was hard at first cause everyone else had been there since September but I'm doing okay now. There's a boys' school down the road. I hoped they'd send me there, but they said they thought it'd be better if I went to this other place.

I don't know if it's to do with what happened, they wouldn't say. I miss hanging out with the gang, but I'm making new friends now. I guess I'll just have to get on with it. I missed not seeing you at Easter too, and there's one thing I'm missing more than anything else. I think you can guess what that is!

Any chance you could come over here when you're home for half term? I know none of the other boys would.

Up the Spurs!

Sean

Wow! It's such a great feeling knowing he's okay. I'm going to have to go and see him. I know what he means about the other boys. They wouldn't have a clue how to get there for one thing, but it's not just that. After what happened, I'm not sure they'd know what to say to him.

Well, I'll go. I'm used to going across London; I do it every time I go to or from school. I'll just have to find out what the nearest station is. Maybe I'll get him to meet me there, or I'll just walk to the house if it's fairly close. We've got an A-Z atlas at home and I can read the maps okay; I'll have to look it up.

It took over a week to get here; I was getting worried in case Customs had confiscated it. I could have been right in the shit if that had happened. It's stupid really. I know it's good or they wouldn't have paid us that bonus, so why take the risk? Well, there's nothing like seeing it for yourself, and as it goes I've got away with it. I won't do it again though.

I've hidden it in the trunk store, and when I say hidden, I mean hidden. I thought about setting everything up before meeting up with Peter, but decided not to. It'll only take five minutes to get everything going once we get in there, less probably; leaving the projector and stuff out where anyone can see it just isn't worth the risk.

Once supper's finished I do my usual disappearing trick. I've got nearly fifteen minutes to kill, but that's okay. I check my watch a few times. Finally it's seven twenty six; time to go.

Once again, Peter's ahead of me; he must be keen! I'm not sure Rob's too keen on the idea of the two of us watching the film together, but I can't help that.

I let us into the trunk store and quickly get everything set up. I'm used to threading the school projector and this one's much the same so even that only takes a few seconds. I set the projector rolling and sit down on the trunk next to Peter, just like Mr. Atkinson used to do with me.

I can't believe how well it's come out. Yeah, I know that Christmas before last I pooled all my Christmas presents so that I could have a really good camera, but even so, I wouldn't have believed I'd be able to produce something this good. It is such a turn-on!

It seems to be turning Peter on too. He runs his hand over the front of my shorts. I like that.

He doesn't stop there either. As soon as we get to the part where he's sucking Rob's dick, he opens my shorts and gets mine right out, stroking it gently. Oh yeah!

I glance across. His shorts and briefs are down round his thighs. I reach across and return the favour. It makes the film seem even hotter.

I watch Rob's spunk spurting into Peter's mouth; I almost cum right there. It rolls on. Rob's lining himself up to get into Peter's bum. Then he pushes it right in; you can see it perfectly! Fuck! That is hot! My eyes are glued to the screen.

It's so amazing I have to keep reminding myself that this is my film. We move onto the shots I took from between Rob's legs. They're a little bit blurred because I had to get in a bit closer than I wanted to, but even so, you can still see his big cock pumping in and out of Peter's arse. Oh, man!

The climax of the film is rapidly approaching. I keep watching, totally transfixed, my fingers gently fondling Peter's cock.

And there it is. Rob orgasms inside Peter's bum and sinks down over his back. A few seconds later he pulls out. We move to the final shot, the one that none of Mr. Atkinson's films had, Rob's spunk spluttering out of Peter's bum and dribbling down his legs. The guys who buy these films are really going to go for that!

As soon as it's finished, Peter puts his head in my lap and sucks my cock right down to the root. I'm so sexed-up, I cum in, like, ten seconds flat. He swallows every drop. Man! What a way to finish!

I'm back home for half term. I've fixed up to go to Sean's place on Wednesday. I'm not sure how that's going to go; I get the feeling that his foster parents aren't too keen on him getting back together with kids from 'his old life'.

Well, I don't care; that's their problem. I'm going anyway. The Robinsons are away all week; Luke told me they would be, so for the rest of the time it's just me and the old gang. Monday's a bank holiday, so we've got parents around for three days instead of just two, which means we can't get up to too much mischief, but I doubt if we would anyway.

The weather's great; we spend most of our time down at the park, either kicking a soccer ball around or just hanging out. It's okay; the atmosphere's a lot more relaxed than it was at Easter, but to me it still seems strange, Sean not being here. His name isn't even mentioned; it's almost like he never existed. Oh well, that's how it is; there's not much I can do about it.

Tuesday, half past twelve; we're wandering back from the park, the sun blazing down on us. One by one, the other lads peel off to go home for lunch, leaving me with Jason.

I'm not sure what he's got in mind; maybe he wants to mess about again like we did last time. Well, I'm going to let him take the lead; I'm not pushing anything. He lets us in; the house is empty.

I follow him to his bedroom. We flop down on the bed. I glance across. There's a tell-tale bulge in his shorts.

"Dunno," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "There aren't any girls when I'm away at school so I've never really thought about it. So you like girls then?"

"Yeah; I love going out with them and that. Never get to do much though, well not usually. Jenny Williams let me put my hand in her panties; that was about it."

"Since that thing with Brendan," he continues, "I keep thinking about, --- you know."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about it," I say nonchalantly. "A lot of boys our age do. Most of them grow out of it; that's what Uncle Andrew told me."

He draws the curtains.We quickly strip down to our underpants. We stand facing each other, both of us with very obvious hard-ons. Very nervously puts his hand on the front of my briefs, almost like he expects my dick to jump out and bite him.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulls them down round my thighs.

"That's nearly as big as Richard's," he says. "I've seen him in the showers at school; he always gets hard before he puts his pants back on."

I could tell him what that probably means, but Jase isn't stupid; I'll leave him to draw his own conclusions.

"I never used to," he says, frowning. "But now I do. It's embarrassing, man! So d'you do that?"

"Nah!" I say grinning at him. "At school we see each other naked all the time. It doesn't bother me."

He wraps his fingers round it, stroking it gently. His touch is electrifying; I'll cum in no time if he keeps that up.

"That's s nice one, man!" he says, a hint of breathlessness in his voice. "I wish mine was that big."

"You were only twelve a couple of weeks ago," I remind him. "It seemed to be working okay the last time I was here. You'll catch up."

I skin his underpants down his legs. His cock springs free. At barely three inches and very slim it is on the small side for a twelve year old; Alex's is bigger and he's only eleven. I reach out and fondle it. It's incredibly hard and throbbing like crazy.

We sit down side by side on the bed and get back to playing with each other. I know it's a bit tame compared with what I'm used to, but I don't care; Jason being so new to it makes it seem really hot.

"Good," I say. "I like it. There's this gland up inside your bum, right above your balls. It's called the prostate; it's what tells your balls to make spunk, or it will when you're a bit older. It feels incredible when something touches it. "

"Doesn't it hurt?" he queries. "I've tried sticking my finger in when I've been having a wank, and even that hurt."

He rummages in the drawer of his bedside cabinet, and takes it out. I swallow hard; I didn't want to push the boat out here, but I can't miss a chance like this. I probably need to help him out in any case.

He shuffles back across the bed so he's leaning against the wall, pulling up his knees so his feet are flat on the bed. It's just about perfect.

I slip off the bed so I'm kneeling in front of him. I slide my hand between his legs, running my finger over the sensitive area behind his balls until I reach his hole. I slowly work my finger around until I feel him relax.

He nods. Very slowly I push my finger in. I get as far as the first knuckle and stop.

I push in right past the second knuckle. I touch his prostate. His cock twitches all by itself.

He shuffles forwards and gets to his feet, my finger still embedded inside him. I lick my lips and go down on him, sucking his stiff little cock right down to the base.

I don't have to tell him what to do; he just does it, grabbing my head and pumping his hips, fucking his cock into my mouth and bumming himself on my finger. It's over in a matter of seconds, his cock jerking wildly between my lips. I wait till he's finished and let him go, my finger sliding out of his bum. He sinks back onto the bed.

"Jesus!" he gasps, struggling to get some air into his lungs. "I don't believe that!"

"Fuck, man!" he says, still trying to get his breath back. "I never knew anything could feel that good!"

"Yeah, sure," I say grinning. "Will you do it for me; it feels better like that."

I twist around, lying back on the bed, with Jason kneeling over me. He takes my cock between his fingers and sets to work. He's got a great touch; it feels fantastic. After barely half a minute the tingling kicks in.

He does just that. A few seconds later my spunk spurts all over me, an initial squirt just above my tummy button followed by a big one right up between my nipples, then a few smaller ones till the last few drops just ooze their way out.

Jason's eyes are like saucers. I'm not surprised. It's a long time since I saw myself cum like that; I've spurted a lot more than I did then. It's thicker too, not really white yet, but much cloudier than it was.

"You squirt a lot, don't you?" he comments, letting me go and examining the gooey stuff on his fingers.

We pad across to the bathroom and clean ourselves up, returning to Jason's room to get back into our clothes. Suddenly he's very quiet again, like he doesn't know what to say. I hope he's not regretting it.

"I'd better get home," I say, grinning at him. "I'll see you down the park in about an hour."

The afternoon passes much like any other, the five of us just hanging out together; it's too hot to do anything else. For me and Jason it's business as usual. Finally, it's time to go. For once, I'm one of the first to leave. If I walk back with the others, Jason might invite me in again, and I'm not sure that's a good idea right now.

I walk back home trying to make sense of it all. He had a really bad experience with Brendan trying to get into his pants, but instead of it putting him right off the idea of sex with boys, it seems like it's done just the opposite. That's weird!

I've got it all checked out. It's actually easier than getting to school. I take the Northern Line tube from the station half a mile away through the City to London Bridge. Then I just have one train ride from there.

The house is about five minutes walk from the station, so I'll go straight to it; I won't need Sean to meet me. I set off just after nine o'clock. I've told Sean I'll be there about half past ten; I should have plenty of time.

It's just gone quarter to ten when I get to London Bridge. I check the timetable. The next train leaves at 9.54 from platform 10. I show my day-pass at the barrier and wander through. The train's there waiting. I find an empty compartment and park myself down next to the window.

Just before we pull out, this older guy comes in and sits directly opposite, late forties, maybe fifty, smartly dressed. The hair stands up on the back of my neck. He could have sat anywhere else in the compartment, but he's chosen to sit right opposite me.

Well, I know what that's about; it's happened a few times when I've been going to and from school. But there's one big difference. When it's happened before the train's been quite full, so they couldn't actually do anything. Today it's just him and me. I'm almost wishing I'd worn jeans instead of shorts, but you don't want to do that when it's as hot as this.

"Yeah," I say, not even looking at him, hoping that he'll see I'm not interested and leave it there.

Well that didn't work, but I'm not that worried. I saw Atkinson off all by myself; I'll do the same to this guy. I look across, fixing my eyes on his. I'm sure he was looking at my crotch.

"One of my friends moved to Bromley a few weeks ago," I say calmly. "I'm going to visit him."

"I'm twelve," I say, my eyes boring right into him, "but I'm used to it. I'm at school in Sussex. I always go on the train. My dad never takes me; he's too busy."

"Oh," he says, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Well it's good to see we've still got some youngsters who know how to get about on their own."

Hs finally looks away. I allow myself a little smirk; he cracked quite easily. Better still, he keeps his mouth shut for the rest of the journey. That's another little victory.

I leave the train and make my way out of the station. It's twenty five past ten. I take a few moments to get my bearings then set off on the short walk to the house. A little over five minutes later, I'm there.

It's a large detached place, a far cry from the council house Sean used to live in. I walk up the drive and ring the bell. Someone comes bounding down the stairs. A moment later the door opens. There he is, grinning at me. Man, it's so good to see him again! We slap hands.

We wander into the large lounge room. It's neat and tidy, but still has a nice lived-in feel to it. That's a bit of a change too; most of the time Sean's old place looked like it had been hit by a tornado.

"Hello, Toby," she says, smiling at me. "I'm Mary Shields, Sean's foster-mum. Thanks for coming. Sean's really been looking forward to it."

"I wanted to see him too," I say. "Before I went to boarding school we used to do everything together."

"Well, you're very welcome," she says, looking me right in the eye. "But let me say one thing. Sean's been through a lot, stuff you won't know about. But he's here now, trying to make a fresh start. Up to now it's gone very well. He's settled in well at school, he's making new friends; we're very pleased.

"He's not been in touch with any of his other friends from before and we thought that was for the best, you know, letting him make a clean break. But he begged us to let him see you again, so we agreed. It's important that you don't disrupt what we've started here. D'you understand?"

Of course, I know a whole lot more than she thinks I do, but I do understand; I understand perfectly. After all the shit that's happened, he did need a fresh start, and Mary looks just the right sort of person to give it to him; she's everything his real mum wasn't. I never imagined he'd have finished up somewhere as nice as this; he could have done a lot worse.

We step out into the sunshine and set off down the road, Sean bouncing along next to me like a dog with two tails. It's great, seeing him like this; I thought he'd be miserable.

We spend the morning at the local park with three of Sean's new friends, Michael and a couple of others. They seem okay, not much different from the gang back home. They seem a bit taken aback when I tell them I go to boarding school, but that's soon forgotten; I'm a friend of Sean's and that's good enough for them.

We have a kick-about with a soccer ball; in between that we just hang out, chatting about this and that, soccer, cricket, just general stuff. There's no mention of sex though, not a whisper. At quarter to one we stroll back to the house, leaving the others at the park.

"I'd better get to the station for four o'clock," I tell him. "I need to get back to London Bridge by half past; if I leave it any later the tubes will be jammed and I won't be able to get on."

Lunch is bangers and mash with onion gravy; it's delicious.We all sit at a big table in the dining room. It's not formal exactly, just quiet and orderly. I'm used to having meals like that, but I know Sean isn't.

Terry, Sean's foster-dad, is there. He's a lecturer; he teaches clinical psychology. There are two other kids as well; Jane, who's ten, and David who's eight. Jane's okay; she smiles at me a lot, like she fancies me. David looks lost; I get the impression he's not very bright.

Afterwards, the two younger kids are set to the task of helping with the washing up. Sean doesn't have to do anything; I guess that's cause I'm here. He'll probably have to make up for it later.

"Toby's got to catch the train at four o'clock," Sean tells her, "I'll come straight back from the station."

"He's not," Sean confirms, "doesn't know whether he's on his arse or his elbow most of the time. I think he got raped."

"Jane seems okay though," I say, trying not to think too much about what he just told me.

"Yeah, she's much the same as me," he says, "She was having sex with her uncle, her mum's brother. Her mum knew it was happening. Then somebody else found out and the shit hit the fan."

We arrive at the park. Somebody's brought a cricket bat and a tennis ball. That looks much more suitable for a hot afternoon. After about half an hour it's my turn to bat. After a couple of balls that I punch away along the ground, Michael bowls one that's a bit short.

I pick the bat up high and swing right through the line. The ball flies through the air, travelling well over a hundred yards before the first bounce. The other kids stand there open-mouthed. I guess they never saw anyone hit the ball as far as that before.

"We've got to go now," Sean says. "Toby's got to get the train just after three."

He's planned this well. We come to the park and meet up with the other kids just like we said, but we leave the best part of an hour early, which will give us plenty of time to ourselves, with him still getting home when he said he would.

His foster parents won't be any the wiser. We start heading back towards the house, but after a short distance we turn off up a side road that leads to some woods.

"We play here sometimes," Sean says. "There are lots of places where you can hide."

A few minutes later we're in one of them; it's just about as private as you could get. We sit down facing each other.

"It's okay," he says. "They look after me better than mum ever did. And they never shout at us. You saw what it was like when we were having lunch; it's like that all the time, you know, really calm. They don't even shout at David when he's being naughty. They don't let him get away with it, but it's like they're in control."

"I'm doing better at school than I ever have," he continues. "Mum never used to bother; she didn't care what I did. If I didn't feel like doing homework, I didn't do it. Well, I can't do that here. As soon as I get back from school I have to sit down and get on with it. If there's anything I'm stuck on they help me."

"Yeah, well I am now," he says. "It was hard at first, but with them sort of getting it all organised for me, the easiest thing was just to do what they wanted. As long as I work hard and behave myself they're more than happy. Anyway, what did the other lads tell you?"

"Not much," I say quietly. "Jason told me what happened; the others never really said anything."

For a few seconds we sit there not saying anything. In one way, I'm really happy for him. He's a good kid; he needed someone to look after him like Terry and Mary are doing. On the other hand, it must be hard to know that the other kids don't even talk about him now.

"There's another thing," he says. "Mum was always saying she was going to do this or going to do that, and half the time she never did. If I reminded her, she'd bite my head off. There's none of that shit here. If Terry or Mary say they're going to do something, they do it."

"Yeah," he admits, looking at the ground between his feet. "When I first moved in they asked me a lot about what I'd been doing with Brendan, asked if I'd ever done that with anyone else. Well, I told them about Brendan cause they knew about that anyway, but I never said a word about anything else.

"They were okay about it, but they said when I was ready to talk about it, they'd be there to listen, like they knew I wasn't telling the truth. Then they talked to me a lot about how wrong what Brendan did was, and how they were concerned about me cause a lot of boys who've been 'interfered with' as kids end up doing the same stuff themselves.

"I tried telling them I really liked having sex with Bren, but they just don't get it."

I could tell him that I don't get it either, but I don't think that's a good idea.

"They just say I shouldn't even be thinking about having sex at my age," he continues. "They're paranoid about it, man! They're not nasty to me, but they always want to know who I'm with and where I'm going; I'm just not used to that. And they do check up; a couple of weeks ago I even saw Mary checking my underpants, you know?"

"So I guess you've not had sex since you've been here," I say tentatively, hoping he's not going to get upset.

"Not a thing!" he says, shaking his head. "The kids I'm in class with are all clueless. Well, you saw them; that's what they're all like. And being a mixed school, all the older boys are into girls, or at least that's what they want everyone to think. It's like wanting to have sex with another boy is really bad."

"Well, at least I'll get to do it now," he continues, giving me a big grin. "I mean, that was what we came here for."

"Come on then" I say, smiling back, the temptation too strong to resist. He's right, of course; it was what we came here for.

In a matter of seconds we're stripped to our underpants. He's got the sexiest little body imaginable. He gives me his trademark cheeky grin and put his hand right on my cock.

He pulls down my briefs then gives some more attention to my dick, running his fingers all over it. It feels wonderful.

I pull his briefs right down to his ankles. He isn't hard but I know how to put that right. I kneel in front of him and take it into my mouth, sucking it eagerly. In less than twenty seconds it's as stiff as a poker. I get to my feet, wrapping my arms round him, pulling him into a wonderful, passionate kiss, our tongues meshing together. Man! I love this kid!

"Yeah, please Toby! I've been dreaming about it ever since you wrote back to me. If I make a mess in my briefs I'll throw them away so Mary doesn't see them. I've got loads; she won't notice if there's a pair missing."

"It's okay," I say, "I've brought some cotton wool so you shouldn't have a problem."

I take the KY from the pocket of my shorts and lube up my fingers. Sean positions himself bent right over, his hands resting on a low branch. I kneel down behind him. His bum looks perfect; you wouldn't know he'd ever been fucked. Very gently I work some KY into him, just with one finger at first.

I take my time; he's much tighter than he used to be. I carefully push a second finger in. He tenses up for a moment then relaxes. I slowly work them round, gradually opening him up. I let my fingers slide out. Man! His bum is beautiful and right now it's all mine. I move in behind him, my cock nuzzling against his hole. I hold it round the base and push. It goes in about two inches.

I hold him round the hips and slowly pull him onto me, my dick hitting his prostate on the way through.

I start off pretty slow, the pace building and building till I'm fucking him stupid.

I tighten my grip on his thighs, bumming him even harder. He's very close, I can tell. I push my hand down onto his dick. Almost immediately he's quivering like a jelly, his bum flaring and tightening round my cock.

"Nnngg!! Aaarrgghhh!!!" he gasps, his dick exploding into life between my fingers.

I've hit the point of no return. I slam right into him, holding on tight as my spunk spurts over and over into his bum. I'm so dizzy staying upright isn't even an option. I bend right over him, gasping for air, my nose filled with the smell of his thick wavy hair.

Slowly and carefully I pull out. My dick's as sensitive as I've ever known it, and I've cum so much my balls ache. Sean squats down, letting my spunk run out onto the ground. There's even more of it than I shot yesterday at Jason's house. Fuck! I hand him the piece of cotton wool, wondering if it'll be big enough.

He places it in his briefs and pulls them up. I'm already wondering if we should have done that. I wanted to finish talking to him first; now I've got a problem. In many ways he's much better off here than he was at home, but as far as sex goes his whole world's been turned on its head.

If I had to go without sex for nearly three months, I'd be climbing up the walls. But would I? I have lots of sex because it's easily available; it's what I've got used to. But if it wasn't, maybe I'd get used to that as well; I really don't know. I sit back down, motioning for him to sit next to me.

"You know it's better for you being here than it was being at home, don't you?" I ask.

"Well, maybe you'll have to put up with not having sex for a while," I suggest, hardly able to believe what I'm saying. "If you're patient I know you'll find someone eventually."

"I don't think I should come here again," I say, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Things have changed; you've got a new life now and you've got to make it work. I don't think me popping in every time I'm off school is going to help."

I glance across. The tears are rolling down his face. I grab his shoulders, turning him to face me.

"Of course I want you," I say, trying to stop myself bursting into tears. "You're the best mate I ever had. But it's not going to work. You're here; I'm either away at school or at home on the other side of London. We've got to move on, both of us. I can't take things back to how they were before; it's not possible."

I help him to his feet and we head towards the station. We don't talk; there really is nothing to say. Finally we get there. I'm on the edge of tears again.

I want to kiss him, but I can't, not here. I pull him into a big hug, his head resting on my shoulder.

We let each other go. I turn and walk towards the platform. As I go through the door I turn back for a moment; he's still standing there, watching me. I swallow hard and keep walking.

The train's coming into the station. I find the first available seat and flop into it, my head spinning. I hope I'll never have to go through that again. Maybe it would have been better if I hadn't gone, who knows? And I haven't a clue whether I should have had sex with him.

He wanted it and so did I, but I still don't know if it was the right thing to have done. I'm pleased that he's got such good people looking after him, but I'm still worried. He does silly things; he always has. If he gets the chance to have sex, he'll go for it; that's the way he is.

I just hope he finds someone who actually cares about him; I can't bear the thought of him getting hurt again. I've never felt like this before, you know, like it really matters. I guess that's because it does.

Afterwards it's Kate's turn to help with the washing up; I go to my room and lie on my bed, thoughts churning through my head. I feel like shit. There's a light tap on the door. Liz walks in and sits on the edge of the bed.

"You remember Sean?" I say. She nods. "He's had a lot of bad stuff going on," I continue. "The family's been split up and he's living with foster parents over in Bromley. His mum said she didn't want him any more.

"I went over to see him. He's doing really well; his foster parents are trying to give him a fresh start. It's definitely what he needs after what he's been through, so I told him I thought it'd be better if I didn't go over there again. He was pretty upset about it; we both were."

"Yeah, he was like the brother I never had." I say, giving her a weak grin. "You're not going to say anything to dad, are you?"

"Of course not, silly!" she says, smiling down at me. "What does he need to know for? I think you did really well, going all that way on your own. I think you did the right thing too."

"Has mum agreed to you staying with Robert in the summer while they're in Egypt?" she asks, changing the subject.

"Yeah," I say grinning at her. "She rang Rob's mum last night. Well, they seemed to get on pretty well so it's all arranged."

"It's okay if you know what you're looking at," I say, "but dad never explains anything."

"Oh, he's hopeless!" she agrees, giving me a big smile. She pauses for a moment. "I know we fight quite a bit," she says quietly, "but you're still my kid brother and I don't like seeing you upset."

We spend the morning at the park, kicking a soccer ball about, much the same as usual. At half past twelve we start to make our way home.

So that's it then; he won't be inviting me in, not today, and probably not tomorrow either. In one way I'm disappointed, even a bit annoyed cause he's behaving like an arsehole. But mainly I'm relieved; I can't really explain it, but the other day things went much further than I thought they would, and I just wasn't in control of it.

My head's still screwed up by the business with Sean too. I usually go after sex with cute looking boys any time I get the chance, but after everything that's happened, doing stuff with Jason is one situation I think I'm better to stay out of.

Pink Panther

HARTSWOOD PRIORY

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