my little gofer.”

“Hi Raymond,” I said, “please excuse my state of undress but we weren't expecting an audience.” I said, sarcastically.

Raymond, who was a cute-looking 5’4” ginger-haired lad, laughed and reached down to adjust his hard little cock inside his shorts.

“Do you want us to get rid of that bit of stiffness you've got?” asked Ciaran.

“Since you ask,” said Raymond, stripping off, “I wouldn't say no.”

He came and lay in between us on the makeshift bed and Ciaran said to me, “Be my guest, but the same way you did it to me.”

“What's that?” asked Raymond.

“You'll find out,” said Ciaran.

I took Raymond in hand and asked him how old he was, expecting him to tell me he was about sixteen. “I'm eighteen,” he said “but most people think I’m just a kid, it really turns the paedophiles on.”

I started the slow and steady massage and his rather small 5½ cock stiffened and pulsed with his young heartbeat. After a few minutes his toes started to curl. "Here we go," I thought.

“Oh, yes,” he said, “that's starting to feel bloody good, Oh, yes, faster, faster.”

True to form I carried on at the same speed and I could see him clenching and unclenching his buttocks, trying to speed up the moment of orgasm. “Faster, faster,” he said, as he looked me in the eye. I shook my head.

“You'll enjoy it all the more when it happens,” I told him. His back was arching off the bed and a sweat had broken out on his face. He started to grunt and snuffle like a little piglet, then the moans really started. “Oooooooooohhhh, Oooooooooohhhhh, Aaaaaahhh, Yes...YES...oh, YEEEEESSSSSSSS”

As his boy juice shot from the end of his cock over his head and hit the window behind me tears streamed down his face. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he muttered “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He seemed to pass out briefly, and when his eyes reopened he sat up, turned to me and said, “You bastard, you made me wait, but it was fantastic!” and kissed me lightly on the lips.

“Ya big sissy!” said Ciaran. We laughed and got up off the bed. Ciaran found an old towel to clean ourselves up with, again not too clean, but who could be bothered by this time? We cleaned ourselves up and I sat on a plastic chair while I got my breath back. In the absence of another chair Raymond sat on my lap and gave me another little peck on the lips. “Thanks again,” he said.

Ciaran was tidying up so as not to advertise what had happened and as he removed the dust sheet from the makeshift bed he revealed underneath eight large mooring fenders. “Well, I'll be buggered,” I said.

“You just have been,” chorused Ciaran and Raymond together and we all fell about laughing.

We got dressed and left the site together “Fancy a pint?” I asked them and we adjourned to the nearest pub, three men in search of refreshment after a gruelling, but totally satisfying afternoon.

Robbie
TheGayNarrator@hotmail.co.uk