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Subject: Queen Mary Bell Boys 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 44 Phil drove the bus taking the nine of us north out of the city. After a couple of hours we stopped at a little place called Kingston where he got out to ask for directions. When he came back he told us that the camp was about 15 miles away at a place called Ashokan. “Apparently there isn’t much there, so we should stock up with food here. Let’s go there to see what there is, then we can come back for what we need.” When we got there we drove through Ashokan and the camp was down a side road half a mile beyond. To our delight it was at the side of a big lake. There were a dozen cabins, and three of them had been opened up. We all got out to be greeted by two young guys who welcomed us and explained that they had been part of the camp staff in the summer. They lived in Kingston and had been hired by Cunard to get three cabins ready. “We were expecting two adults and six boys, but I see there are three men,” said one of them. “Last minute change of plans,” explained Phil, “can you accommodate a third one?” “Oh sure, we just need to get bedding from the store. It won’t take a moment.” The nine of us looked around. Each cabin had three beds, all made up with blankets except for the empty bed in one cabin. “That’s where we’ll put the bedding. What else do you need?” Phil asked about electricity, hot water, cooking, all that kind of stuff, while we six, assuming like all teenagers that food would somehow miraculously appear, got on with exploring the camp. After ten minutes there was a loud whistle and we all came running. “Right,” said Phil, “we need to go into Kingston. Ryan knows what we need as far as food is concerned. Each of you think about what you might want. You’ve all got money, haven’t you?” Six nods. “You won’t have to pay for any essentials – Cunard will see to food and so on. Liquor will be different. Leave that to us. OK?” Six more nods – the mention of liquor was encouraging. “OK. In the bus in 5 minutes.” The business of shopping in a small town in a foreign country was interesting, to say the least of it. A lot of the stuff was familiar, but a lot of it was completely new. Eventually a great pile of food was put into boxes and we loaded it into the bus. Several bottles nestled among the food. There was what I learned was a freezer at the camp, so Ryan bought a lot of meat. None of us had seen, or even heard of, a fridge in those days, so a freezer was just one of the strange things they had in America. We hauled it back to Ashokan and unloaded it all. Ryan was in charge, and showed us where everything was to be stowed. “You must all be starving,” he said, “bugger off for 20 minutes and I’ll have food ready then. Go and sort out the beds.” The eight of us went into the third cabin, now with the third bed made up. Phil asked how we wanted to split up. “We can have three of you boys in each cabin, and us three in this one. How does that grab you?” The grin on Phil’s face made it clear that he didn’t expect this to be popular, and indeed it wasn’t. “That’s daft,” said Andrew, “you know perfectly well that each of us is a couple, so why would one pair want to split up? Each cabin should have a pair of boys. Maybe you three should sleep outside on the grass to stop lions from getting us.” Larry thought that lions weren’t a big threat in New York, but maybe crocodiles might come slithering out of the lake. “Why don’t we guard your precious bodies from inside your cabins, maybe sleeping in the third bed?” Since this was, and always had been, the obvious solution it didn’t take long for it to be agreed, albeit with amazed cries of ‘why didn’t I think of that?’, ‘my goodness, what a good idea’ and other exaggerated childish nonsense. It was fine to behave like a child if you knew perfectly well that you would soon be being fucked like a man – well, like a teenager anyway. Ryan whistled to call us for lunch. He’d made burgers – a treat in those days, and food with which we’d become very familiar in the weeks to come. Your first burger, made with freshly-minced beef, topped with exotic sauce, and served in a bun with a glass of beer, is not something you ever forget. The second one was just as good too. While we were eating Phil said that we needed to discuss what we were going to do while Queen Mary was being fixed. “I have to phone every other day to find out what’s happening,” he said, “and to let them know that the crocodiles haven’t got any of you yet. They said it would be at least five weeks, and probably six or even seven. Cunard will pay your wages while you’re here, but you won’t get the money until you’re back on board – it’s too ataköy escort far for anyone to come out here with a fistful of dollars every week. However they don’t want you sitting around idle. We have been told to teach you skills you may find useful on the ship as you get older and can no longer be bell boys.” “What kind of things?” asked Alan, who was likely to be one of the first to be too old and too unsexy-looking for elevator duties. “I’ll teach you how to cook,” said Ryan, “basic stuff, like burgers, but if any of you are any good I can teach you a lot in six weeks. Not just cooking, preparation and all that, but how to serve. Some of you may end up as waiters.” This didn’t sound too exciting until he reminded us that waiters, like bell boys, were allowed by the nature of their calling to be physically very close to passengers. “You groped my legs once, Patrick, don’t you remember?” said Phil. Larry said that he would teach us keep fit stuff, and he would supervise swimming, promising to try to remember to bring his anti-crocodile cream each day. We were surprised by the idea of swimming – it was, after all, October, but it was much warmer here than an October day at home, so the idea of freezing while the crocodiles got us wasn’t long in our minds. When it was clear that lunch was over (there had been copious quantities of ice cream after the burgers – another thing we saw only on special occasions at home) Larry said that in 15 minutes the lake would be open for swimming. “While I shoo away the crocodiles you six do what Ryan wants in the kitchen. Go on, learn something useful.” This was going to be an interesting few weeks. After we’d helped Ryan clear up, washing dishes and seeing where everything was stowed ready for the next meal, we went to our cabins. We didn’t have any swimming trunks so we all agreed to go as nature wanted us to be, hoping that one thing might, as it always had done, lead to another. When we trotted down to the lake, six teen cocks bobbing as we did, Larry was waiting. “Ah!” he said, “skinny-dipping is it,” and promptly removed his own trunks. “Let’s make that the rule here,” I said. Larry explained the set-up. The lake is miles long, but only a mile or so wide. The safe swimming area, where the boys are allowed at summer camp, is marked out by those posts about 150 yards away. Don’t go beyond them as it’s deep and that’s where the crocodiles have their nests in caves at the bottom. OK, I’m joking, but it is deep, and it’s probably muddy too. Just stay in the safe bit. While we’re here you’ve probably worked out that you’re all going to get fucked by all three of us, and the bad news is that none of us fancies fucking corpses. So stay in the safe areas, OK?” There was general agreement, particularly in view of the likely rewards for being good boys, and staying nicely alive and warm. “Now, who can swim?” Charlie and Sam put their hands up. Country boys, of course. “How well?” asked Larry. Charlie said that he could probably get to the other side a mile away. Sam wasn’t willing to commit himself to that distance, but he said he’d been swimming since he was 3 and was competent. Andrew and Alan had been to swimming baths near where they had lived, but neither of them could swim. Tim and I hadn’t even been to baths although we’d paddled about at the seaside. Larry announced that three weeks from that day there would be swimming races and that all six of us would be competent to swim 100 yards by then. Tim and I exchanged a worried look. Luckily each of us had an experienced swimmer to look after us. Charlie put his arms round me from behind. “I’ll look after you,” he said, “because now I’ve got something I can give you.” I was puzzled – he’d given me so much already. “What d’you mean?” “I can give you confidence,” he said, “you’ll be like a wee fish in a couple of days.” I liked the idea of being a wee fish if Charlie was going to be the angler who landed me. But of course I’d landed him … then I began to see what he’d meant. The water was too enticing for further chat so we all ran in, splashing and generally behaving like a bunch of five-year-olds. The swimmers swam vigorously, just to show that they could, and returned to the shallows where the rest of us were still fooling about. Larry lined the four of us up and showed us what we had to do. He held Charlie while Charlie did the arm and leg movements which would one day maybe keep us from Davy Jones. He then grasped me and made me do the same. After 10 minutes I’d got the hand of it. “Off you go with Charlie,” said Larry, “practise over there while I see to Tim.” After an hour each of us had got a pretty good idea of what to do, and we’d each spent time getting confident that we could at least keep our heads above water, if not necessarily propel ourselves very far. Elegance was still a long way away however. When we’d all had enough of swimming about we got out, dripping everywhere, and it was then that someone remembered that towels had not accompanied us to the lake. “Run about then,” said Larry, “you’ll dry son enough.” He was right – it was still what at home would have been thought of as a hot day – and after merter escort about ten minutes we had had enough chasing about like little kids, and were ready for … what, exactly. The sight of cocks running about, with sexy boys joined onto them, was enough to make every one of those cocks bob a lot less, and point a lot more. Larry said that he liked the look of what was so wantonly on display before him. “Get some clothes on, you can fuck about later. It’s time you learned some skills. Be in the kitchen in ten minutes.” It was evident that Phil and Larry had worked out how we boys were going to pass our days. Still, so far it had been fun, and learning cooking stuff would be useful. Ryan split us into two groups of three, successfully splitting pairs up. This was work, he made it clear. Sam, Andrew and I were set to dealing with vegetables while the other three were doing the meat. It’s surprising, at least it was to us all those years ago, just how much teenagers took food for granted. The Mulloys had never gone short, thanks to the thieving of the Connors, but even so our mother had had to be careful in how she got enough food together for her brood. Here on the other hand there was a vast amount of raw materials, or so it seemed to us, but also a vast amount of work needed to turn it into a meal. We didn’t know the expression in those days, but our learning curve was practically vertical. In later life Charlie and I would often look back with gratitude on what we learned in Ashokan at Ryan’s hands. As my session with Will in the sling probably saved my life, these few weeks probably saved Charlie’s. I won’t bore you with any more details – the afternoon’s swimming and cooking lessons will have to suffice as examples of how we spent our days at Ashokan. Each weekday saw us learning something new, and the beauty of it was that we soaked up new things willingly – we weren’t at school, we were treated as adults, so we didn’t chafe under the discipline. After our evening meal things completely changed. That’s when sex reared its head. You can probably imagine what we all got up to. Saturdays and Sundays were different. We’d arrived on a Tuesday, so by the time Saturday came round we needed more supplies. It didn’t take long to agree that all nine of us would go in the bus to Kingston. Ryan had a list of food things he needed and Larry wanted sports stuff. We got to Kingston at 1030 and Phil told us to be back at the bus at 1300. “Go and explore,” he said, “some of the people here know we’re from Queen Mary. Make friends.” The six of us stuck together. Kingston wasn’t a very big place, but we could easily have got lost if we went too far. We looked in the shops and after a while the heat began to get to us. Sam saw a shop called a ‘soda fountain’ which seemed a possibility for a drink of some kind. We went in. It was wonderfully cool, with a marble counter and a few tables. We liked the idea of all sitting up at the marble counter, just like men in the films sitting in a bar. A girl of about 18 came and asked us what we’d like. We found her accent just as difficult to understand as she found ours, but after a few minutes our choices had been made, although we had little idea of what those choices actually were. Tall glasses with ice cream and brightly-coloured lemonadey-looking drinks appeared. We looked at each other, uncertain about whether to slurp it or spoon it with the long spoons provided. Two boys sitting at one of the tables were laughing. “Come on, you two, show us what to do. We’re strangers here. We just landed from Mars,” said Tim. The two boys instantly stopped laughing, but they came over. “Are you really from Mars?” said one of them. “Don’t be a dumbass,” said the other, poking him in the side, “how come they speak a bit like us if they’re from Mars.” “But you do speak funny,” said the first one. “Maybe,” said Tim, “but we need to drink these things before they melt. Show us how it’s done. It’s different on Mars.” They grinned. “OK, Martian, what do we call you?” Names were quickly exchanged, and Jakey and Esau sat down with us to demonstrate how Earthlings drank lime sodas. Just like us after all – the spoons were apparently decorative. We bought them a soda and another round for us. By the time the sodas had disappeared Jakey and Esau knew all about us – well, not all, but quite a lot – and we knew all about them. They were twins, they lived ‘just over there’, they would be 14 in the week before Christmas, they’d been to New York City once and it had been fun, they’d seen their big brother fucking his girl friend a few weeks ago, they’d threatened to tell Pa and Cy had agreed to certain treats in return for their silence. At that point they stopped. Jakey looked at Esau, who gave a tiny shake of his head. “Oh go on, Esau, they’re our friends even if they’re Martians.” Clearly for the stream of information to be resumed a degree of curiosity from us aliens was required. “What did you make him do?” I asked. It seemed to me that the sudden silence betokened something unorthodox. Jakey said, “oh hell, Esau, I’m telling them. Cy said he’d give us a blow job.” This was along bahçeşehir escort the lines of what I’d expected. “And did he?” I asked. “No, the bastard said we’d have to wait until we were 14. So we’ve been waiting – what is it, Esau? – 23 days.” “24,” said Esau, “and our birthday isn’t for another 57 days.” Charlie said “gosh, that must be hard, having to wait that long for a blow job. Why not give each other one?” This reasonable question produced an embarrassed silence. At length Jakey said very quietly, “we don’t know what it is. We know it’s to do with our dicks, but that’s all.” Six Queen Mary bell boys suddenly found their antennae quickening. It was Charlie of all people who suggested that since all six of us not only knew what a blow job was, but were famous for the skill with which we gave them, Jakey and Esau might like to bring forward the date of their first such thrill. Four American eyes widened. “Are you kidding?” Kidding he was not, Charlie assured them. “The only question is where,” said Alan. “Oh that’s easy,” said Jakey, “we have a barn where we play. No-one goes there this time of year.” A short discussion ensued, the result of which was that, the barn being only half a mile away and the time being not yet 1145, instruction in the arcane matters discussed would be given in as few minutes as it took to reach the appointed place. It was, as they had suggested, ideal for the purpose to which we intended to put it. It was at least 400 yards from any other building, and there was plenty of straw piled up. Jakey and Esau had made a little den in one corner, and had arranged it so that the farmhouse could be seen from there. Since that was the only place from which Authority might arrive it was simple to keep an eye open now and again. “OK, we’re here,” said Alan, “who wants to be first?” Jakey and Esau looked at each other, uncertain how to choose. Into the silence Sam proposed a simple solution. “You guys have got dicks. We Martians have something similar, but they’re called cocks. Maybe they’re the same, but they only way to find out is to look.” With that he started to strip, and the other five of us took our cue from him. Within 60 seconds Jakey and Esau could see that, as far as they could tell, cocks were in the same place as dicks, and poked out the same way, but they had frills on. 60 seconds later we could see why they were fascinated by our frills. Jakey and Esau were circumcised. At that time it never occurred to me that boys called Jacob and Esau might be Jewish – we lived sheltered lives in working-class Catholic Liverpool in those days. We were pleased to demonstrate that frills could be moved back, turning Martian cocks into what looked like ordinary – no, extraordinary – dicks. Andrew wanted to get on with it. Without further ado he pushed Esau down onto a hay bale and took his hard four inches into his mouth. “Oh fuck, Jakey, he’s sucking my dick!” said Esau, in a blinding glimpse of the obvious. “That’s what a blow job is,” I said, “except you don’t blow. You lick and suck. I’ll show you.” Jakey was on the hay bale like lightning and my tongue was licking his balls, his cock, his cockhead, everywhere. “Oh Jeez! Esau, this is so fucking good.” It was nice to be so warmly appreciated. Andrew and I did what we had done so often before, pleasuring these twins, knowing that whatever befell them in 57 days time these blow jobs would be the ones they remembered most. Anyway, we professionals were likely to be much better cocksuckers than an older brother who fucked girls. Soon it was clear from the whimperings and ‘oh Gods’ coming from the twins that they were getting near. “Oh, Patrick, stop!” cried Jakey, “I’m gonna pee – stop!” Even if he had been going to pee – which I knew he wasn’t – would a Mulloy have taken his mouth from the tap? I sucked and licked harder, lashing his cockhead and tickling his balls. Suddenly he arched his back, forcing his cock deeper into my mouth, and I felt a good jet of all-American jizz – that was what they called it, I remembered – coating my tongue. Jakey was seeing stars and suddenly he was ten feet tall with fire coming out of his ears. “Fuck,” was all he said, but it was enough. Esau still had a little way to travel, but Andrew had heard the sounds from our bit of hay bale and he was determined to get Esau off quickly. When it happened Esau was a noisier jizzer, but he too squirted into Andrew. “Yeah, fuck is right,” he sighed. “And that, Earthlings, is what a blow job is, ” said Tim. “Now, four of us haven’t tasted Yankee jizz today, so who’s ready for seconds?” We were back at the bus with 90 seconds to spare. As well as four stomachs with jizz in them two of us (Charlie and Sam) had cum – each other’s – in theirs. The twins had drawn the line at thirds, so Tim and I persuaded the other two to give Jakey and Esau the idea – which had never occurred to them – that 69 was a nice number. And as well as six well-filled stomachs we had an invitation to party again the next Saturday. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 45 as we have more adventures in upstate New York. The photographs in Queen Mary 2 are real. I saw them while making a transatlantic crossing a few months ago, and the boy I describe as “me” is really cute. I’m sure he had adventures … Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

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