Paul and Mark, What Might Have Been
|by Paul Lewis|
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 22 Mar 2013
Paul and Mark – What Might Have Been – Part 2: Led Astray
The events related in the following story are, once again, fictitious and form a sequel to my most recent offering, “Paul and Mark, 3 Years on: What Might Have Been”. In Part 2, we follow our “future selves” as they get involved in more mischievous adventures that, if our lives had followed a different course, might really have happened. Unfortunately, they didn't!
Three days had passed since our unfortunate debacle with Keith, and its aftermath, and our planned stay at Medway Court was about half-way through. Keith himself, somewhat to our relief, was away for a week, attending cattle-sales over in the West Country, so we were able to avoid the embarrassment of frequently meeting up. Thus it was, at lunch, on one fine hot Wednesday during the second week of August, that Great Aunt Jeanette gave us some very welcome news.
“I thought you boys would like to know,” she explained, “that I had a telephone call from your Mother this morning, Paul, and she told me that Mark's parents wish to extend their touring by another week. She wondered therefore, whether, A, I could put up with you for some extra time,” she said this with a twinkle in her eye, “and, B, if you would like to stay longer. What do you think?”
We just looked at each other and beamed “Wow! Would we!” I exclaimed.
“Thank you very much, Lady Stirling,” said Mark. “That would be terrific!”
“Well, I for one, would love you to stay,” she continued. “Having you youngsters around this old place is a breath of fresh air. I take it that's settled, then?”
We nodded enthusiastically in confirmation. “There is one other thing I have to tell you as well,” she went on, “I have just heard that we are having some more unexpected guests arriving tomorrow.”
As we looked at her enquiringly, she explained. “My sister-in-law and dearest friend, Alice, passed away about four months ago and, in consequence, I have been having quite a lot of correspondence recently, with her immediate family. Alice's middle son, Christopher, currently has his own daughter and grandson over from Australia, staying with him and I also had a call today, from him, asking whether they could come over here tomorrow and stay for a few days. Of course, I said yes so, we shall be having a houseful for a while. I think you'll get along very well with all of them. Christopher is very nice; I've not seen his daughter, Rosalind, for ages but she was always a lovely girl and I have never met her son. I gather he is nearly fourteen, his name is Finn, and it's good that you are here to provide him with some young company. However,” she fixed us with a very straight look, “don't forget, he is rather younger than you are, so kindly make sure that whatever games you get up to, are appropriate!” She finished, raising her eyebrows significantly at us, though smiling, as she said it.
“Of course, Auntie,” I replied, seriously. “There's loads for us to do, what with tennis, football, fishing, swimming, walking – we'll have a ball and, of course, we'll look after Finn, no problem!”
“I know,” she said. “We'll all have a wonderful few days together!”
After lunch, we changed into shorts and trainers and, picking up a couple of racquets, made our way to the old tennis courts for a game. As we wandered down through the gardens, Mark started to chuckle. “What's funny?” I asked.
He shook his head, laughing. “Well,” he replied. “Remember how old we were when we first started messing about with stuff? A lot younger than Finn is now. I was just wondering exactly what, constitutes”appropriate“games!”
“Hey, will you behave!” I said, laughing as well. “We only just escaped one potential scandal by the skin of our teeth! For God's sake, don't let's risk anything else whilst we're here!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said. “Just a thought!”
“Well, think about this, then!” I answered, giving him a sharp smack on his bottom. This, of course, precipitated an immediate bundle, as we wrestled each other to the ground, rolling over and over on the grass, whacking and smacking at each other's arses as hard as we could. Fortunately, by this time, we were well out of sight and sound of the house, so our horse-play continued for several minutes before we staggered, panting and laughing, to our feet. Inevitably, the fronts of our shorts were tented by a pair of throbbing erections and we paused to give each other a quick rub before continuing on down the path.
“Mmmm...,” I said, rubbing the bulge in my shorts as we approached the tennis courts, “I really could do with doing something about this!”
Mark grinned and nodded in agreement. “Me too! Is that pavilion unlocked, do you think?”
“Dunno, let's take a look,” I said as we walked up to the old wooden building, standing on the bank above the courts. I tried the door and it opened with a creak, the hinges protesting at their unaccustomed use.
“Jeez, shouldn't think anyone's been in here for years!” I commented, as we stepped inside, closing the door behind us. The interior of the pavilion was thick with dust, that rose in clouds as we moved through it and the place smelt musty and ancient. The silence was profound.
“Hey, look, what's through there?” asked Mark, pointing at another door, leading into a separate, interior room. Investigating, we discovered a small kitchen, containing a sink and an antiquated paraffin stove. “They must have used this in the old days to make teas or something, when they had big tennis tournaments on,” I said. “This whole place must have been really humming, back then!”
“Anyway, whatever, it makes a perfect place for dealing with these little problems,” said Mark with a grin, as he closed the kitchen door. “I'm at bursting point!”
So saying, he unclipped his shorts pushing them, with his boxers, down to his knees. Released from its confinement, his rigid, 6-½ inch cock sprang proudly to attention, standing up vertically against his flat stomach. I rapidly followed suit and we moved close, our rock-hard penises rubbing together.
“Ahhh,” I breathed, “that's good!” I slipped my hands behind him, clasping his bare buttocks tightly and pulling him against me.
Mark responded with a sigh of pleasure, sliding his hands down and round, gripping my naked arse hard in return, kneading and rubbing it and slipping a finger into my crack. Moving one hand back to the front, I eased it down between us, grasping both rigid pricks together and started, slowly, to masturbate them.
“Mmmmm, Ahhhh! That's so nice!” breathed Mark quietly. Drawing slightly apart, I moved my other hand from his arse to his tight balls, massaging them gently but firmly. He responded, easing my cock away from his own, grasping it himself and, emulating me, moved his other hand to my balls to give them some very enjoyable attention.
So we stood there, probably for about five minutes, lost in the bliss of the moment as, once again, we pleasured one another in the best way we knew until, inevitably, the pressure became too much.
“Ahhh!” I moaned, “I'm gonna come!” At that instant, my cock jerked in Mark's hand, thick strings of spunk jetting from it, as I reached an ecstatic orgasm. Almost simultaneously Mark, too, found his release and his spunk mingled with mine, the white spurts flying almost three feet across the dusty floor.
As usual, temporarily exhausted by the intensity of our climax, we collapsed against each other for a moment, heart-rates slowing and laughing softly together.
“Guess that was well up to standard then!” grinned Mark when he had recovered.
“Haha! Too right,” I responded. “Now, how about that game of tennis?”
The following day, about mid-morning, we were alerted by the sound of a large car sweeping up to the front door, its tyres crunching on the gravel of the drive. Aunt Jeanette moved to open the door, with Mark and I just behind in close attendance. Outside stood a rather swish, brand-new, 1990 Jaguar XJS, its engine and steelwork creaking as it started to cool down.
As we watched, its doors opened and three people emerged. The driver was, I guessed, late middle-aged, a tall, imposing man, slightly balding. From the passenger side stepped a slender woman, probably around 35, with striking, long, blonde hair and blue eyes, while from the offside rear door, climbed a tall, well-built young lad, presumably Finn. He, too, was very blond, just like his mother, the effect enhanced, no doubt, by the strong Australian sun of Brisbane, their adopted home city.
Aunt Jeanette stepped forward, embracing the man, who kissed her on both cheeks. “Christopher! How lovely to see you again. I do hope that things are beginning to settle down now?” This question referred, of course, to the recent passing of Christopher's mother, my Aunt's sister-in-law, Alice.
“Oh, not so bad, Jeanette,” he replied. “Though, of course, we all still miss her intensely.”
She looked at him in sympathy. “Naturally. We all do.” She was silent for a moment, then looked up, her bright smile restored. “Rosalind, I don't know how many years it's been! How long is it, since you went out to Australia?”
Smiling, the slim, blonde woman stepped forward, gathering Aunt Jeanette into a close hug. “Fifteen years this October,” she replied. “We have been back since then, but have not had an opportunity to get over here before this. Of course, you have never met Finn, have you?”
She held out an arm, urging her son forward. “G'day, Aunt Jeannette,” he began, in a very characteristic Australian twang. “I'm really pleased to meet you. Thanks so much for asking us!”
My Aunt gave him a hug and a kiss. “And I am very pleased to meet you, too, Finn. Now,” she continued, addressing them all, “I'd like you to meet my great-nephew, Paul and his friend, Mark, who are staying with me for a while.”
We came forward, shaking hands, hugging, or kissing, as appropriate. As I shook hands with Finn, he gave me a mischievous grin. “G'day, Pommie!” he said. “Howa you and ya mate doin'?”
Mark and I laughed and I clapped him on the shoulder, “Fine, Aussie!” I replied, in a fair imitation of his own accent, “Nah worries!”
“Boys, why don't you take Finn upstairs and show him his room?” suggested my Aunt. “I've put him into the one next to you. I'll show Christopher and Rosalind to theirs and then we'll all meet for a drink before lunch.”
Helping Christopher and Finn unpack the baggage from the boot of the car, we returned indoors and, quickly ascending to the first floor, we took Finn down the long corridor that lead to our part of the house. The rooms for Christopher and Rosalind, we noticed, were safely away up in my Aunt's end which, I was sure, would make life easier for us, whatever transpired!
“So how old are you, then, Finn?” asked Mark, as we opened the door of the room next to ours.
“Fourteen, in about three months time,” he replied. “What about you?” We told him. “Strewth, I thought you were both about 17,” he said. “You must work out a lot.”
“We play a fair bit of sport,” I said. “But you're pretty musclely too.”
“That'll be all the surfing and water-skiing up on the Gold Coast,” he explained. “I've been water-skiing since I was about 7 and surfing since I was 9.”
Mark whistled. “That's amazing!”
Finn shrugged. “We get the weather, ya see – most of the time when we're not in school, we just live outdoors, down the beach, swimming, surfing, partying, cooking on the barbie, ya know. Anyway, whadya do around here?”
“Well,” said Mark, “the weather's been really good here too, so we've been playing tennis, hiking, also there's a lake not far away, so we've been swimming and fishing in that.”
Finn nodded, “sounds beaut! Can we swim this afternoon?”
We looked at each other. “Don't see why not,” I said. “We'd best mention it to Aunt Jeanette, but I don't s'pose she'll mind.”
As expected she agreed, without reservation, to our plan. “You boys have a good time,” she said. “I expect we'll go and visit Sissinghurst Castle, it's a National Trust property, not far from Cranbrook. I should think we'll be home about five.”
Accordingly, after a decent interval following lunch, the three of us set off across the fields for the Lower Lake. Mark and I were profoundly glad, that Keith was safely off the premises for the time being. After what had taken place the last time we were down there, neither of us were really keen on encountering him again although peace, officially, had been restored. All three of us also carried bags containing towels and bathers, as neither Mark nor myself, thought it would be a very good idea to suggest skinny-dipping to the younger boy, particularly as it was the first time we had all met.
Reaching the quiet lakeside, we walked around it until we arrived at our previous wide, grassy spot, very suitable for using as our “base camp”. As on the previous occasion, the sun shone hot from a clear blue sky and there was hardly a breath of wind.
“Hey! This is beaut!” exclaimed Finn, as we dropped our gear on the ground. “Not as hot as we get it but good enough!” Without delay, he started to strip, pulling off his Tee-shirt. Mark and I glanced at each other, exchanging slight grins, as we realised that he wasn't remotely self-conscious, undressing in front of other boys.
Very soon, all three of us were down to our boxer-shorts and, with a quick, mental shrug, I pulled mine off first, simultaneously bending to unwrap my bathers from the towel.
“Whadya bothering with those for?” asked Finn. “We only wear bathers when we're beach swimming or when there're sheilas around. When it's just us blokes swimming up at the dam, we skinny-dip all the time!”
Mark laughed. “Right! That's fine by us too. It was just we didn't know how you'd feel about it.”
Finn shrugged, pulling off his boxers to stand, unselfconsciously, naked. His body was tanned a deep golden-brown all over, his neat, firm buttocks only slightly paler than the rest of him. He was quite muscular, and about the same height as we had been at a similar age. Mark looked at him and chuckled. “Guess you were telling the truth about the skinny-dipping!”
In contrast, our own naked bodies looked almost pallid beside Finn. We had both started to pick up a bit of a tan and each had pale demarcation stripes around the buttocks and upper thighs but, clearly, we had a long way to go before we could hope to compete with our new young friend.
“Cm'on then!” I yelled, running down the gently sloping bank and leaping, with a great splash, into the cool water. Two other splashes followed in quick succession and, much as Mark and I had done previously, we lost ourselves in glorious, uninhibited sky-larking. I surface-dived, swimming around and beneath Finn, pulling him under; Mark leapt out of the water like a surfacing whale and bore down on me, driving me to the bottom. As I surfaced, I came up face-to-face with Finn, who was treading water less than a couple of feet away. To my amazement, I felt his hand touch my cock, just slightly, but enough for me to wonder how accidental, or otherwise, it had been. The mischievous grin that flashed across his face at the same moment, however, told me that it had not been accidental at all. A second later, he spun and surface-dived directly in front of me and I had a full-on view of his bare arse and balls right in front of my face, as they came up out of the water. I looked round at Mark, who was watching in amazement.
“Phwoar!” he exclaimed. “Cheeky little devil, isn't he! I wouldn't mind having that arse across my knee for five minutes!”
“Yeah, know what you mean,” I agreed with a grin. “Best take it easy though, we don't want to push things too quickly!”
Further conversation on that interesting subject, however, had to come to an end, as Finn shot out of the water behind Mark and leapt upon his back, trying to pull him over. Mark, however, was standing on the bottom of the lake, the water up to his shoulders and he braced himself against the smaller boy's attack, then bent rapidly forward, so that Finn was flung over his head to land laughing and with a great splash, directly in front of him.
A three-way, highly vigorous, splash-fight then ensued, after a few minutes of which, we were all exhausted with laughter and panting with exertion.
“Ah! I'm going for a lie-down on the bank!” exclaimed Mark, wading towards the edge. Finn and I followed him and, with sighs of satisfaction, we each settled ourselves down, a couple of feet apart, on the warm grass. It was such a great feeling to know that, for once, we were really guaranteed privacy, with all those who might, potentially, have intruded upon our seclusion, safely away for the immediate future. I lay to one side, Mark on the other and Finn in the middle, three naked and completely unashamed boys, for the moment, without a care in the world.
I must have dozed off for, the next thing I knew, was that something cold and wet was dripping onto my cock and balls. “Urgh!” I grunted, opening my eyes. Standing over me, that mischievous grin on his face, was Finn, with a double-handful of water that he was allowing to drip, steadily, onto my crotch.
“Oi!” I exclaimed, in mock anger. “Knock it off!”
In answer, Finn opened both hands wide, and a minor deluge of cold water cascaded over my sun-warmed genitals.
“Ahhh! You little bugger!” I squawked. Mark who, of course, had woken up with the commotion, was propped up on one elbow and was watching the proceedings with great amusement. I shot out one hand, intending to grab Finn by the ankle, but the agile boy leapt clear and ran up the bank, just beyond my reach. I scrambled to my feet and gave chase, as he ran off around the lake's edge, his well-rounded bum flashing in front of me. After a few yards, the grassy area we had chosen, gave way to rougher ground and, turning to find easier footing, Finn found himself in a steep-sided depression that, given time, he could have climbed out of easily, but not with me just behind him. As he hesitated, I leapt forward and tackled him, though not roughly, to the ground. Mark too, had, by now, shifted himself and come up behind us.
“Right, got you!” I said, my attempts at sounding severe, completely undermined by the grin on my face. On impulse, I started to tickle Finn in the ribs; evidently, he was extremely ticklish and, as he thrashed around, he was laughing so much he could not put up much of a fight. “Oh, pleeease,” he gasped, “no more! It's too much!”
By now, however, I had managed to manoeuvre him, so that he was lying face-down across my lap, his bare bottom uppermost. Holding him firmly in place, I finally stopped tickling him and, for a few seconds, he just lay still, panting.
Gently, I laid my other hand on his bottom, appreciating the warm smoothness of the firm, golden mounds. “So,” I went on, “If I'm not going to tickle you, what shall I do with you, eh?” and I gave his bottom a very light smack, really hardly more than a pat.
Finn wriggled, though he did not seem to be too worried about escape. He twisted his head round to look at me and I saw that he was grinning just as much as Mark and I were.
“Strewth, mate! Thought you'd never get round to it! Now you've got me where you want me, you'd better smack my arse, hadn't you!”
“What!?” I exclaimed, incredulously, “You want me to spank you?”
“Yeah, that's what we do back home. We get a few of the guys together, after swimming or whatever – swimming's usually good, as we're all bollocko anyway – and see who can take the most! Only thing is, after you spank me, I get to spank both of you too!”
Mark and I just looked at each other and we burst out laughing. “OK then,” I said, “You want to spank both of us, then we both spank you. Deal?”
Finn thought for a moment. “OK, you both spank me but I want to watch you guys spanking each other as well!”
That was where we had to admit defeat; this kid was just too much! “Deal!” I said. “Everyone gets spanked by everyone else! Right then, let's get started!”
I raised my right hand and brought it down, hard, on the golden-brown buttocks that stuck up in the air so invitingly in front of me and Finn gasped. I didn't smack him as hard as I could, not as hard as Mark and I spanked each other, say, but it was certainly hard enough to produce a fine, resounding slap and a rosy mark appeared on the silky, golden skin. I shifted him slightly, to gain better access and, as I did so, his thighs parted, presenting us with a splendid view of his smooth balls and tight hole. Holding him firmly, in the small of his back, I started to spank him steadily and fast, quick, sharp smacks that soon had him wriggling and bucking. His well-rounded bottom was turning a nice shade of scarlet and I could feel his cock stiffen, as it pressed into my thigh. Spreading his legs a little further, I smacked the sides of his crack hard, just as Mark and I did to each other and with the same result; Finn nearly leapt off my lap and he yelped loudly.
“OK,” I said at last, “I reckon that's enough for now,” and gave him four good, hard slaps on the peak of his buttocks as a grand finale, then ran my hand soothingly over his hot globes, finishing by running a finger the length of his crack. Releasing him, I shifted so that he could get up and, as he got to his feet, saw that there was ample evidence he had enjoyed the experience. His cock was absolutely rigid, standing up vertically to its full five inches or so, much the same size as ours had been at his age. Needless to say, my own cock was also at its full extension, lying flat up against my stomach and, looking at Mark, I saw that we were unanimous in our approval!
Finn, in the meantime, was rubbing his sore bottom vigorously, his cock jiggling in front of him. “Strewth mate!” he said, turning to me, “ya sure can spank! Some of my mates back home are pretty damn good at it, but I reckon you could give 'em a run for their money!”
“Hey!” I said, “guess it's only fair to tell you, that Mark and I have been into this stuff since we were about 10, a lot younger than you, so we've had a lot of practice!”
He grinned, still rubbing his hot arse. “OK, mate, payback time! My turn to do you now!”
I laughed, “Fair enough! But aren't I a bit too big to lie across you?”
Finn thought for a moment, “why don't you lie across ya mate?” he said, looking at Mark. “then I'll wallop you from the side!”
Mark and I exchanged grins; this boy was amazing – no shame and, certainly, few inhibitions and I found myself wondering just how common this was, amongst young teenage lads in Australia. Must be something to do with the climate, I decided.
Mark settled himself comfortably, his back against the grassy slope. I lowered myself down over his lap, our rigid pricks rubbing together as I did so, and stuck my arse up in the air. I looked round at Finn. “C'm'on then, do your worst!”
Finn gave my upturned bum an experimental slap then, suddenly, went hell-for-leather, smacking and whacking me as hard and fast as he could. As he tanned my globes, I squirmed a bit but, after a minute or so, started to giggle. Whilst producing a moderate sting and a bit of heat in my buttocks, Finn still simply wasn't strong enough to make any real impression, especially considering how Mark and I spanked one another, to say nothing of the recent experience with Keith when I had been, practically, spanked to within an inch of my life.
Finn paused. “Whadya laughing at?” he demanded. “You need sorting out, mate!” He moved round and I felt him clamber over and position himself astride me, his knees braced against Mark's thigh and his still-warm bottom rubbing on my back. In a effort reminiscent of our “bongos” game, he started slapping my bum again, at first using both hands, before reaching down to spread my cheeks with one and slapping the sides of my crack with the other. This, admittedly, made me wriggle a bit more, but it wasn't long before I started chuckling again.
Finn gave me one last hard slap in exasperation. “You stay put, mate, I know what you need!” He climbed off me and I twisted my head round to look up at Mark, who was grinning from ear to ear, so I looked the other way, to see what Finn was doing. He was messing about in the undergrowth, but soon emerged, holding a long, thin, whippy switch he'd found in the bushes.
“Right! Let's see how you like this!” With that, he raised the switch high in the air and brought it down hard. Now, neither Mark nor I had ever been caned in our lives, apart from one abortive and failed experiment when I was 13, when Mark had tried whacking me on the bare arse with a garden cane and my yell could have been heard six streets away. At the time, he was absolutely mortified and we had never repeated the attempt. So, I was pretty much unprepared for what was about to happen.
Abruptly, a sting like a red-hot whip burned its way across the peak of my buttocks. “Yeeeoooowww!” I cried, as much in surprise as in pain.
Finn laughed. “Hey, really felt that, didn't ya, mate?” A moment later, another smarting stripe seared across my arse, just below the first. I wriggled and squirmed from side to side.
“Oi, don't hit me in the face with that thing!” exclaimed Mark, drawing back sharply, as a third stroke landed, this one across my lower crack. “Owwwwww!” I yelled, this time in genuine pain but realizing, at the same time, I'd better start taking this more seriously and show a bit more restraint in front of a boy younger than I was!
When the fourth stroke blazed its fiery trail across my bottom, I managed to limit myself to a muffled “Mmmffff!” though my buttocks squirmed and clenched wildly. With teeth firmly gritted, I succeeded, somehow, in submitting to Finn's last eight, stinging switch-strokes, with no more than stifled grunts until, at last, the rhythmic “swish, crack!” ceased and I felt his hand rubbing me gently, all over my smarting globes.
“Reckon ya took that pretty well, mate, once ya got used to it,” was his considered verdict. “A lot of the blokes back home don't last more than six before they're whinging at ya to stop.”
I looked up, painfully. “Bloody Hell! You mean to tell me you kids do that to each other at home?”
He nodded. “Yeah! It started when a coupla blokes tried to make out they were too tough for the hand-spank, so the rest of us decided to change their minds for 'em. Now we all do it – see how many we can take.”
I pushed myself off Mark and climbed, stiffly, to my feet. He, too, ran a hand over my well-striped backside and whistled. “Phew! That's one hot arse you've got there, pal!
I turned and chuckled. “See what you've got to look forward to then,” I grinned. “In the meantime, I seem to remember our young friend here, has an appointment with your hand! C'm'ere, young Finn, time to warm up your bum again!”
The engaging grin spread over Finn's face and the young, blond lad waggled his arse insolently at me. “Hey, watch it!” I warned with mock severity, “you're still well-red from the last time. Any more cheek and you'll be eating dinner standing up for the next two days! Come on Mark, this young man needs a good, hard spanking!”
Mark laughed too. “He sure does! And he's going to get one. Don't think we'll need to use the cane to make the point!” He took Finn by the arm, drawing him close then, settling himself once more on the ground, pulled the younger boy down and forward, draping him over his lap. Their cocks, I noticed, were still stiff and rubbed together as Finn wiggled himself into position. Mark looked down at the inviting sight, first shifting Finn slightly and parting his legs, so that all his secrets were, once more, on full view. Placing his left hand firmly in the small of Finn's back, pinning him in place, Mark raised the right high and brought it down with a loud smack on the centre of Finn's still-rosy bottom. The boy bucked and giggled slightly. “Oh, it's funny, is it?” said Mark, trying, unsuccessfully, to stop his own laughter. “You just wait, then!”
With that, he launched a positive fusillade of rapid, hard slaps, covering Finn's firm backside from peak to thighs and I watched the buttocks bounce enticingly, as the smacks landed. Just watching it, was enough to stiffen my cock up to full erection once more and I stroked it gently, enjoying the show.
Unsurprisingly, it was not very long before Finn was, once again, bucking and kicking wildly, his legs flying in all directions and leaving us in no doubt whatsoever, as to what lay between them. His tight balls jigged up and down in time with his bouncing arse and, as he lifted off Mark's lap, his cock stuck out rigidly in front of him, only to rub hard against Mark's naked thigh as he came back down. After about a minute or so, Finn's wild bucking and bouncing changed slightly. His breathing quickened and he started to thrust his hips back and forth, rhythmically, against Mark's bare leg. Mark looked up and grinned at me knowing, full well, what was going to happen next. Still spanking, steadily and hard, he watched as the boy's thrusting became more insistent until, with a gasp, Finn gave one last great thrust, his buttocks clenched tightly and he arched his back in rapture.
“Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh! Ahhhhh!” he moaned. I looked down and watched, as the white spunk spurted from his cock, over Mark's thigh and onto the grass. Mark stopped spanking immediately, rubbing his hand over the bright-red globes and, easing Finn's legs apart again, reached between them and carefully massaged his balls.
Finn collapsed, exhausted and spent, limp over Mark's lap. His breathing slowed and Mark rubbed his back and buttocks with a gentle hand. He grinned at me. “His heart's going like a trip-hammer! I don't think we've ever had better orgasms than that! Jeez, he really enjoys this, doesn't he!”
I chuckled. “Yeah, but I think we were – are – pretty much the same! Talking of orgasms though, we're going to have to do something about these as well, aren't we!” I indicated my throbbing prick, standing vertically before me.
Finn stirred and rolled off Mark's lap. He lay on his back, looking up at us. “Oh man! That was so cool!”
“Do you go that far, with your mates back home?” I asked
“Yeah, sometimes, but it's never been as good as that. That was just awesome!” We grinned back at him, sharing in his enthusiasm.
“Well,” I continued, “do you want to finish the rest of the deal?”
Finn laughed. “Y'know, d'ya mind if we take a rain-check on that? Don't know about you blokes, but I'm really ready for some tucker!”
Mark nodded. “Me too. What's the time Paul?”
I walked over to our base-camp and fished out my watch from where it was buried, under my clothes. “Ten to four,” I answered. “If the rest are getting back at five, I guess we could get cleaned up, ready for them.”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Mark, as he and Finn walked over. “Just one thing, though...” he indicated his still-rampant cock, nodding at mine as he did so.
Finn giggled. “You blokes ever had a circle-jerk?”
I looked at him eyebrows raised. “You're not going to tell me you're into that as well?”
“Oh, yeah. How'd'ya think we'd get on after the spanking sessions without it? Look, we can't have a proper circle-jerk, I'm not ready yet,” he indicated his own, still limp, cock. “But I can sort you blokes out, if you like!”
We looked at each other, shrugging in defeat. “Why not?” said Mark, “We've done just about everything else!”
“Cool! C'm'ere then!” We moved forward, to stand side by side in front of the younger boy. With his customary, cheeky grin, he gripped a hard cock in each hand, rubbing them firmly and rhythmically, drawing our foreskins back and forth over our throbbing knobs until, very shortly, they erupted violently, shooting their loads onto the grass. As our intense breathing slowed once more, I laughed softly.
“Bloody hell, Finn, what else do they teach you in Australia?”
“Ya'd be surprised, mate!” came the characteristically cheeky answer.
Mark shook his head, a rueful expression on his face. “And to think, we weren't supposed to get you involved in any”inappropriate“games!” he looked at me, in appeal. “How does it feel, Paul, to be led astray by a fourteen-year-old?”
“Nearly fourteen!” corrected Finn and we all laughed and, donning just enough clothing to make ourselves decent, we gathered up the rest of our things, turned and headed back across the fields towards the house. As we left the lake behind us, I reflected silently that, with our new young friend around, the next few days were likely to be anything but dull.
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