Hartswood Priory - Toby's Story

by Pink Panther

Chapter 22

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.

"Have you got a problem?" I snap, putting myself right in Wyndham's face.

He just giggles.

"Only you were talking like you've got a cold or something," I continue.

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 thought that would wipe that stupid grin off your face," I say coldly.

"We were only playing," Weston bleats.

"Moron!" I snarl at him; he nearly shits himself.

"Come on, Alex," I say. "Let's get out of here, I don't like the smell."

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'm sitting in our maths class when Mr. Halford appears. Everyone's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. He has a word with Mr. Thompson.

"Toby, report to my office please," he says firmly.

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 tell him exactly what happened. He takes a deep breath.

"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?"

"I should think so, sir," I say evenly.

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

"Sir!" I respond.

"And don't do it again!" he says. "Right! Off you go!"

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.

"Mark Wyndham!" he snaps. "Get to my office!"

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.

"Tigger!" I call. "What's happening?"

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.

"Rob said you wanted to see me," he says nervously.

"Yes," I say. "D'you know Alex Pienaar?"

"Yeah, he's in my dorm."

That's a bonus, given that it was only a one in four chance.

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

He looks uncomfortable.

"Peter!" I say sharply.

"Selwyn Archer," he says. "He's always doing it, calling him names and that."

"And what do you do?" I ask.

"Nothing, why?"

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

"He won't listen to me," he says, looking uncomfortable again.

"I don't care whether he does or not," I tell him. "Just do it."

He's now looking very uncomfortable.

"Archer, is he a big kid?" I ask.

"No," Peter says, "he's quite small actually. He's very aggressive though."

"So what's the problem?"

"He's always got his mate with him," he says.

"And who's that?"

"Grant Shipway."

"Big fat kid," Rob informs me.

"So if you have a go at Archer, this other kid'll hit you."

"Well, not hit me, exactly, sort of barge into me. He does it all the time."

"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."

"Okay," he says. "Why's Alex so special?"

"You know why he's here?" I ask sharply.

"Yeah, sort of," he says, looking uncomfortable again.

"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?"

"No," he agrees.

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

"Yes," he says quietly.

"Right, off you go then," I say.

He leaves us to it. He's still looking nervous, but he'll do it.

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.

"Well?" I ask, taking him to one side.

"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."

He looks at me like I just grew a second head.

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

"So these two are mates of yours, are they?" I demand.

"No, but ---,"

"Well that's all right then!" I say brightly.

"Why don't you want me saying anything about Grant?" he asks.

"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?"

"They were just going into lunch as I was coming out."

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

"He'll kill me!" Peter wails.

"No he won't," I assure him, "we'll be here."

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."

"How many d'you think he'll get?" I ask, turning to Rob.

"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."

"Have you ever been caned by Mr. Halford?" I ask, turning back to the kid.

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

"I have," I say, smirking at him. "He's very good at it."

He's still holding out.

"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."

We move towards the door.

"No! Wait! Please!" the kid wails. "I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"That's better!" I say smiling at him.

"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."

"Right, now shake hands." I tell them.

I watch them do it.

"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?"

"Yes," he says, looking suitably ashamed.

"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!"

He scuttles off. Fatso is looking very nervous.

"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." He's almost wetting himself. "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. You can bet your life he won't want to bump into us!

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

Very nervously he walks between us. He never touches the sides.

"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.

"Right, let's try it like this!" I order.

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. The bell for afternoon classes will go in a couple of minutes.

"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?"

"Yes," he whimpers, fighting back the tears.

"Good!" I say, smiling at him. "Off you go!"

He slinks away. Rob's laughing so much he's nearly pissing himself.

"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."

"Aren't you worried about Halford having a go at you?" he asks.

"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 guess not," he agrees.

Filming indoors is a whole new challenge. 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.

Wednesday, straight after classes, I set everything up in the gym. 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.

This is going to be an even bigger problem in the trunk store. 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 say 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.

"I can't film if you're going to mill about all over the place," I tell them.

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.

"Toby!" he protests. "Are you trying to cook me or what?"

"Shut up!" I say. "You're a movie star! You have to suffer for your art!"

"Stuff that!" he retorts.

We all burst out laughing. I turn off the lights and leave him in peace.

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.

"Let's open the windows," Rob suggests.

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.

Sunday morning I meet Mr. Chandler by the science lab.

"So you won't be filming any rugby matches this year then?" he says, smiling.

"No sir," I say. "Now I'm in the team I can't film as well."

"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. Still, I'm not in any hurry.

I'm on my way back from breakfast when Dominic catches up with me.

"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.

"Yeah," he says, giving me a sexy grin. "He's well into it."

"You haven't mentioned where we do it, have you?"

"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."

"Great!" I say. "Meet us by the art room, tomorrow half past seven, okay?"

"Yeah!" he says. "We'll be there!"

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.

"Cool set up, man!" Craig breathes. "How did you ---?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder about," I say, cutting him off. "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."

"Okay, let's get on with it," I say.

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.

"Nice cock!" he comments.

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.

"Looks like you've taught him well," Craig whispers.

"Yeah, well he didn't take much teaching." I respond quietly.

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.

"So how was that?" I ask.

"Great!" he breathes.

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.

"Ian loves sucking," I say quietly.

"Have you bummed him," Craig asks. "Dom says you have."

"Yeah, he loves that too," I say, grinning. "So is that what you're after?"

"Yeah, if you're okay with it," he says.

"Sure," I say nonchalantly. "Let's get it on."

I get off the bed and stroke Ian's hair. He looks up.

"Come on," I say, "time for some real action."

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."

"Okay," I whisper to Dominic, "kneel in front of him. He loves sucking you."

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

"He's all yours, man," I say to Craig, giving him a big grin.

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. Man! That is hot! 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.

"Bend over!" I whisper.

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 as well. 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.

"Are you all right?" I ask Ian, who's standing there just in socks and briefs.

"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?"

"Yeah, probably," I say, holding him to me. He drapes his arms round my neck. "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?"