queen-mary-bell-boys-168

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bdsm

Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys Chapter 168 Queen Mary Bell-boys by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 168 I went to the garden centre the nest morning. Jeremy was in the shop, but when he saw me he called over to someone else to take over. “Come into the office, Patrick.” He offered me coffee (“we don’t run to expensive sherry”) and when it arrived I explained what Charlie had suggested. “There’s no point in just coming for a few days, Jeremy, and Charlie thinks it would be a waste of his time if Simon stayed for less than a month. By then he’ll either have decided that being a chef isn’t what he wants to do, or he’ll have a good understanding of how much he’ll have to learn, and what the process will feel like.” Jeremy said he thought that made a lot of sense, and that Simon would feel the same. “He’s really keen, Patrick.” I knew I had to go carefully over the next bit. “Jeremy, you know full well that Charlie and I are lovers, and it won’t surprise you that Ade shares our bed as well. If Simon spends time with us he will have to cope with being in the middle of three queers who will want to get him to play. Put it this way – we’ll want to fuck him.” Jeremy chuckled. “Do you seriously think that hadn’t occurred to us? Patrick, believe me, Simon is as keen to get to know you three as you are to get to know him. David and I have been fucking him since he was 12, and he loves every minute of it. When I said that I knew a gay couple who ran a restaurant he begged me to get him an invitation to learn what he wants to find out.” I was speechless for a few moments. “Jeremy, let me make sure I understand. You and David have been fucking Simon – and doing other things as well, no doubt – for two years. Simon wants to learn to be a chef and he knows that if Charlie and Ade take him under their wing to train him he’ll be under the bedclothes as well, and he’s happy with that. Have I got it right?” “Almost. `Happy’ isn’t quite the right word. I’d say `desperate’ would be nearer the mark. Patrick, he’s a very sexy boy, and he knows what he wants.” We shook hands. “We must meet him and interview him before Charlie agrees, but I don’t see that as being a problem. What do his parents think? Should we meet them as well?” “I’ve thought of that. I’m pretty sure they haven’t guessed that Simon is gay, and I know damn well that they have no idea about what he gets up to with us. I think they and Simon and I should lunch with you one Sunday after Simon has told them that you are willing in principle. David can manage on his own for a couple of hours – there are enough staff at the weekend.” “That sounds OK. Will this Sunday be too soon?” “No, my brother and his wife are free then, I’ve already checked. Simon would drop anything to be there, so we can make it definite.” Simon sounded a bit like a Liverpool boy I once knew if Jeremy’s description was to be believed. 14, horny, determined, anxious for sex with men. Whether he was fun to have around was something we’d find out the following week. I reported back to Charlie and Ade. “It looks as though the plum might fall ataköy escort into your lap, Ade, without your having to shake the tree.” Charlie kept his counsel. “Let’s meet the boy before we get too excited. The first hurdle is whether I think he has promise. We’ll think about the rest once I’m happy with that,” but the twinkle in his eye suggested that the hurdle wasn’t all that high. After all, he was only coming for a month’s trial. The parents were going to be the main problem. ***** I don’t think any of the participants at that lunch were particularly looking forward to it, except perhaps Simon. Charlie, Ade and I knew that we were walking a tightrope in keeping Simon’s parents our of the loop of which everyone else involved was aware. I had no doubt that Jeremy would have briefed Simon, but 14-year-olds aren’t always as alert as they might be. So when Sunday came the restaurant was tense. Luckily there were only two other tables booked, so Charlie and Ade wouldn’t be under too much pressure. Jeremy and I had agreed that their booking should be later than the others so that if there was to be an inspection of the kitchens it could take place when the work was finished. I’d booked the table for 1315 and I’d invited them for drinks in the office at 1245. Jeremy appeared on the dot and introduced his brother Clive and his wife Margaret “and this is Simon.” Simon was an attractive boy with an engaging smile. “I hope you’ll be able to take me on, Sir,” he said. That was not the time to get rid of `Sir’, I decided: time enough when parental authority had departed. “I hope so too, Simon, but I’m not the one you have to convince.” I got drinks for the three adults (Jeremy with his usual La Ina and boring G&Ts for Clive and Margaret) and, by request, a glass of apple juice for Simon. Was there a coded message there: something to do with snakes and temptation, I wondered. I took them through how we worked, Charlie and his assistant Ade in the kitchen and I in the office and the wine cellar. “Charlie thinks there’s no point in Simon’s being here for just the odd weekend. If that’s all he does he won’t learn anything useful and we’ll have wasted our time and his. In principle we will offer to have him for four weeks. During that time he’ll do all the jobs that a real apprentice would do, and when things are quiet he’ll learn some basic catering skills. He’ll work long hours, like the rest of us. In return we will pay him a fair wage, probably rather more than an apprentice would usually receive, because this is a special favour to you, Jeremy, and we don’t want to treat your nephew as slave labour. Naturally he’ll live in as we start early and finish late. Our usual plan with a trainee is that he has time off in the afternoon.” “That all sounds very generous, Patrick,” said Clive. “Simon has set his heart of becoming a chef, and the first step on the road ought to be a testing one. Your plan certainly sounds testing, but he’s a good boy and a hard worker. You won’t be disappointed.” I’m sure I won’t, I thought, and was pleased that neither Jeremy nor Simon made any sound. I strove mightily to catch the eye of neither of them. Margaret asked motherly questions about accommodation and I said that I would be happy to show them upstairs after they had seen the kitchens later. (Naturally Ade had moved some of his stuff back into the spare bedroom, and the plan officially was that a second bed would be put in there with Ade sharing a room.) Lunch went smoothly as Clive monopolised the conversation. I have no idea why merter escort he thought it important for me to be informed in quite so much detail about the goings-on in either the local Conservative party or his business, but as an ex-whore I was good at pretending to have all sorts of interests when it was important to do so. My feeling was that Clive was strutting his stuff in order to remind the other members of his family that he was the alpha make (his brother, of course, being queer and therefore clearly beta). I wondered whether Clive would work out that just about everybody involved was queer. Probably not, as the local Conservative party had doubtless been swept clean of such vermin. The thing that struck me most during that meal was that Simon remained cheerful and, when addressed, polite in the company of such a terminal bore as his father. Perhaps he had the same skill the ex-whore had of being able to switch on being agreeable. I looked forward to finding out more of his skills. Down, Patrick! The kitchen inspection, where Charlie and Simon first encountered each other, was a joy to witness. Each of them knew perfectly well what the other was thinking. Ade, being no part of the selection process, attended to all the clearing up while Charlie grilled Simon. “Why do you want to be a chef, Simon?” “I love cooking, Sir, and my mother has taught me some recipes. I’m quite good at what I know, but I don’t know very much. I want to broaden the range of experiences, and if you’ll let me come and work here I will do my best to fit in and give satisfaction.” An old-fashioned turn of phrase pregnant with innuendo, I thought. I found Simon more and more interesting. Pretty and bright and, if Jeremy’s story was to be believed, right up our street sexually. “OK, Simon, Ade and I haven’t eaten yet. Why don’t you rustle up an omelette for each of us. Can you do that?” Margaret drew breath, but said nothing. “Yes, of course. Two eggs each or three?” “Have a look at the size of the pan and tell me which you think better.” Charlie gave him the pan and Simon looked at it critically. “Two, I think. I’m not sure that three will cook properly in a pan that size.” Charlie smiled. “You’ll do, Simon. That’s a good judgement. You’ve been well taught.” Margaret allowed herself a mother’s smile. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, and made a jolly old-fashioned curtsey. The ice was broken. “Why don’t you show them the rest of the house while Simon makes our lunch, Patrick? Come back in 15 minutes – we don’t want any witnesses to Simon’s first experience.” I kept a straight face. After a brief inspection upstairs – I spun it out as long as I could, but there’s only so much conversation you can have about a small bedroom and a bathroom – we repaired back to the office. Brandy was declined and I filled in a few minutes asking about Simon’s school. “Has Charlie agreed to take him then?” asked Clive. “I think the omelette choice was the test, and he passed that with flying colours. Most boys would have chosen three eggs because it sounds more grown up, I suppose, and going for the lower number shows that he thinks. That’s what Charlie likes – an apprentice who thinks. I fear that Simon will bore you to death, Margaret, when he comes back to you thinking he knows everything.” She smiled another fond motherly smile. If only you knew, I thought. I gave them 20 minutes. “Let’s go and see whether he’s poisoned them both,” I said brightly. I foolishly banged my leg against their table as we went through the dining room to the bahçeşehir escort kitchen. The things one puts up with for one’s lover. Charlie and Ade were sitting at the kitchen table with nice clean plates in front of them. Simon was looking very pleased. “That went well then,” I said. “Very tasty it was too,” said Charlie. “I will be delighted to have Simon for a month. Please let Patrick know when the school holidays are, and we can agree a date.” Clive and Margaret left, bearing a very happy Simon and a complicit Jeremy. He and I shared a wink. “We’ll see you and David soon, I hope.” Back in the kitchen Ade was making a couple of omelettes. The 20 minutes had not been wasted. “Well?” I said. “Bill and Ben have trained him well,” said Charlie, “he knows how to use his mouth all right. As soon as you bore his parents away and the door was shut I took the pan from his hands and put it on the worktop. He got the message fast enough. `Which of you first?’ he said. `The boss,” said Ade, and before I knew where I was Simon was on his knees in front of me undoing my trousers. If he was planning to deal with both of us I felt it right to help him along, so I undid the zip and in he went. Patrick, I’ve been sucked off by I don’t know how many boys his age, but I tell you, this one’s up there with the best. He made me come in about two minutes and he was loving every minute. After I’d shot he stood up and swallowed the lot. `Charlie – it is Charlie, isn’t it? – I loved the feeling of your spunk shooting into me. Can I suck Ade now?’ he said. A damn silly question, but he’s new.” “And bloody good, as Charlie said,” added Ade. “His tongue got me from soft to right up there in no time. Patrick, you’ll love it. Charlie told you to give him 15 minutes, so we had to be quick. As soon as he’d swallowed mine we knew we still had four minutes, (and some people in this great country of ours can run a mile in four minutes) and we wanted to give him a decent welcome. Charlie graciously allowed me to be the first to see, feel, and suck Simon’s cock. He insisted that I should tell you what it tasted like – he said it was in memory if Arthur, and that you’d explain. Anyway, it was as sweet as honey. Who’s Arthur?” ***** Easter that year was in early April. Simon’s school broke up a week before, and as we were always busy over Easter we said we wanted him to come on the Tuesday before – 1 April. It seemed an auspicious day to bring a willing 14-year-old into the circle of sinners. Clive drive him over at 10 o’clock and stayed only long enough to wish him good luck. “We’ll look after him,” said Charlie, “come and collect your apprentice chef on Friday 25 so you have him at home before the new term starts. Patrick and I will give you a proper report on how he’s done, and that will include a formal offer to take him in if we think he’s made the grade, and if he still wants to, of course. That offer will be for as soon after his 16th birthday as is convenient. While he’s here we’ll pay him �12 a week.” “That’s very generous,” said Clive, and giving Simon a pat on the shoulder he left. The door closed. “Right,” I said, “into the office, all of you. We need to establish the rules.” =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 169 as Simon settles in. The story is, of course, fiction, but the photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real, as are the details of the final voyage. I first saw the boys while making a transatlantic crossing in 2017, and had the pleasure of seeing them again in April 2019, smiling at the knowledge of all the things that had befallen them since I first saw them, and thought again how cute “I” was. I’m sure he had adventures in real life … Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. =============================================================================

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın