Henry in High Politics - 11. Chapter 11

Justin, eyes alight, was on deck as soon as the ferry’s Tannoy warned of their imminent docking. ‘Amsterdam innit!’

‘No, Justy,’ Nathan reminded him for the third time, ‘it’s Rotterdam Europort.’

‘Same difference.’

‘Not really. One’s full of containers, and the other is full of sex workers and drug dealers.’

‘Which is this one?’

‘Look around.’

‘Fuck. Boxes everywhere. When am I ever gonna get to see the capital of skunk and porn?’

Nathan sighed. ‘Whoever said travel broadens the mind obviously hadn’t met you.’

Henry was creasing himself. He came up to Justin, whom he loved dearly, kissed him lightly on the cheek and hugged his arm as he leant at the rail. ‘We’ll be at Skunkopolis for lunch, Justy.’

Justin kissed Henry back and brightened. ‘What, really?’

‘Yeah. I think we’re going to stop off there for Terry to brief his people.’

‘And do you fink we’re gonna have time to do adventurous stuff?’

Nathan raised his eyebrows. ‘As if what we’re already doing isn’t adventurous enough, Justy. It’s the call of the sleaze, ain’t it, animal babe?’

‘Look, Nate me mate. You’ve known me long enuff now. I’ve got me natural level … pretty basic as it happens. I can’t go to a place and not live low life to the full. Have I ever gotten you into any real trouble?’

Nathan’s jaw hung slack as he stared at his partner. ‘You’re kiddin’ me! Your previous adventures have got me drugged, drunk out of my mind, signed up with a gay porn studio and nearly date-raped! Henry, can you believe this guy?’

Henry, by then incoherent with laughter, staggered off to find Ed.

All the boys assembled on the car deck, demurely dressed in Medwardine school uniforms and looking as clean and deceptively innocent a party of late teens as ever could be. ‘Yer doin’ me proud, lads,’ smiled Terry, unlocking the doors to the van.

They piled in, Henry snuggling next to Ed, who peered at him. ‘Henry babe, you need a shave.’

‘Really?’

‘You’re getting hairier, y’know. There’re black wisps appearing round your sweet little nips, and I’m gonna have to take a razor to your bum. You can borrow my gear tonight to do your face.’

‘Is it that bad?’

‘No, you’re still soft rather than bristly, but there’s no doubt my little Henry is a man … and your dick’s bigger too.’

Henry laughed. ‘Maturity, here I come!’

David was sitting in front of Henry. Henry leaned over the seat to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. With a big grin, David asked, ‘What’s that for?’

‘For coming out, you sweetheart. Did you get much sleep?’

‘Not much. Mostly we talked. Terry says he barely sleeps at all nowadays. He’s so sad, but he can still be funny too. The things he told me about his sex life when he was our age … it was a real education.’

Henry was intrigued; he’d never got that close to Terry. ‘It’s a good thing he’s talking to someone, Davey. You’re doing him a real favour. From what I hear, he was never given a chance to grieve properly for his Ramon.’

‘I guessed that.’ David twisted his head closer to Henry’s ear and whispered, ‘He was crying in the night when he thought I was asleep … sort of dry sobbing. I lay quiet. He seems the kind of bloke who would think it weak to be seen like that.’

‘Oh jeez, poor guy.’

Terry was however fully in control that morning, driving skilfully on the busy autoroute north to Amsterdam. ‘Henry,’ he called out, ‘slip in the front here. Will says you’re brilliant at map reading.’

‘Henry the Navigator, that’s me!’ Henry replied, squirming over to take the empty front passenger seat next to Terry. He found the maps and city plans, quickly located himself and began briefing Terry on the route ahead. He showed an unerring instinct for which lane the van needed to be in.

As the flat countryside sped past, Terry was soon smiling. ‘How long’s your mate Davey been out, Henry babe?’

‘I’ve known he was gay since last year. We sort of do stuff we shouldn’t. I figured that out because Ed spanked me when I told him.’

Terry guffawed. ‘Do David’s parents know?’

‘No. In fact, nobody does apart from the people in this minibus. I’m not sure he’s ready to come out fully yet, though there’s no doubt he’s gay. He’s awfully nice.’

‘Why Henry, you fancy him!’

Henry blushed. ‘Yes, well, maybe I do a bit. But it’s complicated.’

Terry chuckled. ‘It’s complicated because you’re a kid with a moral outlook … not like me, I’m afraid. Poor Ramon had a lot to put up with …’ The remark was followed by a long silence. The Hague sped by.

‘Terry, what’re we going to do when we get to Amsterdam?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, sweet babe. We may have to spend the night there. Jenna’s made a booking in the name of King Edward VI Medwardine in a cheapish hotel that’s well-known for taking school parties.’

‘That’s good news for Justy then. He wants to be dissolute so bad.’

Terry laughed again. ‘You do cheer me up, you kids. You’re the best medicine I could have hoped for.’

‘Terry, Andy told me you’d retired from security work. What brought you back?’

‘Difficult one.’ Terry paused a long while. Henry began to think he wasn’t going to answer, but finally he did. ‘When Ramon died, nothing I was doing seemed worth a tinker’s cuss any more – I was going to say “worth a fuck”, but, hey, you’re a kid. Without him by my side, I didn’t want to be on the boards or in the chorus. I just couldn’t face New York, so I came back to the UK, which was better because Ramon had not been there much with me. I did nothing but doss around at my parents’, or climb mountains, or work out at gyms. Then two weeks ago, Mark – Jenna’s husband – rang me to say that a big thing was in the air at PeacherCorp, and would I help out.

‘As soon as I strapped on my gun, I felt better. I wish I knew why. Life … began to sort of tingle once more. Not knowing what was going to happen next, I was on the edge again. Maybe I’m even looking forward to serious danger … hell, death would be one way out.’

Suddenly Terry became contrite. ‘Sorry little babe, I shouldna said that last thing. There’s no way I would deliberately lead you kids into a situation where you were in serious danger.’

Henry stared at him solemnly. ‘Death is one way out, of course. But I don’t think Ramon will be too pleased with you if you turn up before you’re scheduled to. He’ll be waiting happily and patiently for you in an amazing place.’

Terry’s eyes snapped to Henry so quickly the van swerved slightly. ‘What did you say?’

‘Only what I know to be true.’

Terry’s cheeks were suddenly streaked with tears. Eyes still fixed on the road, he said quietly, ‘Yeah, Matt told me what happened to you and Ed last year. I didn’t believe him – but it was true, wasn’t it?’

‘Oh yes, and Ed can tell you too. We had a glimpse of the other side. You can take it from me that you will one day be with Ramon again in a place beyond your dreams. He can wait. So can you.’

‘You really are a vicar’s kid, you’ve got that way of talking. Thanks, little babe.’ He pulled Henry up against him, and kissed the top of his head.

Henry got a whiff of tobacco smoke. ‘Smoking is a form of suicide, y’know,’ he chided in a scolding voice.

‘Hah … tell Justy. I cadged the ciggies off him.’

Henry looked back. ‘You still smoking, Justy?’

Justin sniggered. ‘Oh yeah. Giving it up’s easy. I’ve done it dozens of times now.’

***

The hotel in Amsterdam near the Central Station was pretty basic, but clean. Terry checked them in. They were careful to call him ‘sir’ whenever they talked to him, keeping up the masquerade. Ed and Henry were put in a long room with Justin and Nathan. David and Rudi had a double, and Terry was in a single. After making a few mobile calls, he told them the rest of the day and the evening were theirs. They were to change into casuals.

‘Sir,’ he warned Rudi, ‘I must ask you to stay with me. I’m sorry. I know you’d rather be with your friends, but we can’t assume we’ve crossed to the Continent unobserved. I know we weren’t followed from Rotterdam, but that’s neither here nor there. If we were spotted on the ferry, they would have called ahead to alert agents here.’

‘I’ll stay with you and Rudi, Terry, and keep him company,’ offered David.

‘You’re a good lad,’ Terry complimented him, and David beamed. ‘Now, I’ve got a wad of euros here to spread around between you other four. Take it from me, though, that you will be searched before you get back on the minibus. I don’t want no problems at the Rothenian border. They’re really hot against drugs.

‘And another thing. I ain’t really your teacher, as a result of which if you get into any serious trouble it’s okay for me to shoot you in the kneecaps. Remember that, favourite babes.’ They laughed and went thundering up to their room to change, then came thundering back down and out on to the streets with a whoop.

‘Do your magic, Henry,’ commanded Ed.

‘Dam Square is this way, guys!’

Amsterdam was warm, though it was not yet Easter, and the midday sun was a watery yellow in a humid, faintly hazy sky. The four boys were just one amongst many wandering groups of young males. They sat and talked with other British lads in the square and were tipped off as to a cannabis café that wasn’t too particular.

Justin grinned. ‘You gonna tell on us, Henry?’

‘Nope. Though I’m not going to smoke. These places gotta serve coffee too, haven’t they? Or they wouldn’t be cafés.’

Henry surprised himself by his coolness in following the others into the dingy sink of iniquity they found off a small side street near the city museum. He wondered why. He decided it was probably because he was with Justin, who seemed unfazed and unaffected by any wild situation, and also because he was in the shelter of two big blokes like Nathan and Ed.

While the others took a table and got drinks, Justin haggled by the counter and came back with some papers and a small packet. Soon he had a spliff and was sucking away, adding to the ambience of oily smoke.

When Henry’s nose began to tickle in the vegetable stink, he wondered whether he was getting high. Realising he didn’t know what to look for, he shrugged off the idea and sipped at his double espresso, which he hoped would cancel the effect of the weed.

Justin grinned and twitched his eyebrows. ‘Thass ambition number one achieved. You wanna know the next one?’

Ed gave him a hard look. ‘Let me guess … live sex show?’

Justin’s grin widened. ‘Live gay sex show.’

‘You’re on your own mate,’ Ed informed him.

‘Sorry, but no,’ Henry agreed. ‘I think I’ll do something more cultural.’

Justin suddenly looked alarmed. ‘Aw, come on. How ’bout you, Nate? Yer knows what this means to me.’

‘You and public sex, you sad little git,’ Nathan scolded. ‘Why should I pander to your perversions?’

Justin cuddled against his lover. He tried and failed to put on an appealing puppy-dog face as he looked up. ‘Iss cos you love me, innit.’

‘Give me that, chavvy babe.’ Nathan snatched the spliff and took a deep drag. ‘Okay, I’ll go with you, but only to keep you out of trouble. It’s eleven-thirty now. How about we meet you guys at the Oude Kerk at three? You can do the Rembrandt House and pick up a nice lunch, and as you do, remember my sacrifice. They say the shop windows round the church are worth goggling at, even if you’re gay.’

Justin was bouncing in his seat, ready to move on. His twitchiness was probably enhanced by the marijuana.

Henry and Ed surreptitiously watched their fellow customers for a while, then took their leave. ‘I hope they’ll be okay,’ Henry worried.

‘Justin’s like a cat, little babe. Throw him in the air and he’ll always fall on his feet. And our Nate is a big strong guy. Anyway, I hope Justy does get into a club where he can wank off till he’s stupefied. Don’t forget we’re in the same room as that sack of hormones tonight.’

***

They were still waiting at three-thirty at the Oude Kerk, and the limited charm of the prostitutes in the shop fronts had long worn off. Neither of them could raise Nathan or Justin on their mobiles. Ed had just suggested they head back to the hotel when the other two finally appeared round a corner, bickering.

Justin was very disgruntled. ‘Fuckin’ total waste of money! Didn’t see any penetration. He was going bald and in his thirties … “Fresh Twinkie Sex” my fuckin’ arse. His mate was a real screaming queen too. Couldn’t even get it up as he minced across the stage.’

‘You saw one guy jerk off.’

‘You think! I saw him lift his bum and squeak. That was that.’

‘Guys,’ Nathan sighed, turning to the others, ‘your caution about following sleaze-boy here was perfectly justified. The price to get in and the cost of the drinks more or less cleaned us out, and it was, as Justy has eloquently explained, a total waste of time and money. How was your afternoon?’

‘Rather enjoyable as it happens.’

‘As I feared,’ grumbled Nathan. ‘The wages of sin are acute boredom.’

Henry chirped up with a smile. ‘Never mind, Nate, we got some compensation for you … we found a sweet little gay bar for young people at the nicer end of the Warmoesstraat. Let’s go wave the rainbow flag and be upfront queers for a bit.’

Justin was still grumbling when they got their drinks and found a table in a clean and well-appointed bar full principally of gay and lesbian students. He eyed up the next table as Nathan got him an Indonesian beer. ‘Maybe I should shave me head and get some new piercings.’

‘Your hair is gorgeous … Matt spends a fortune on it. Shaving it would be a major cultural tragedy. Also, I’d have nothing to hold on to when I take you from … oops, sorry lads, you probably think that’s too much information.’

‘I hold Henry under the armpits myself, but I go in low and hard. You take Justy with his bum high I imagine.’

Nate looked shyly lecherous, an odd expression, but that’s the only way to describe it. ‘Yeah … I do. Even thinking about it’s getting me hard. No dark room here, eh Justy babe?’

Justin’s face cleared and he laughed. They stayed in the bar eyeing up the Dutch boys and being eyed back for a whole ninety minutes, before they had to rush up the street to keep their dinner appointment with Terry and the others.

Terry was quite cheerful when they arrived, although David and Rudi gave off a distinctly bored air. Terry led them on foot to the dock of a low canal cruiser that offered dinner. ‘I booked a table here, babes. It’s probably not the best food in Amsterdam, but the local Peacher guys say it’s not bad. For me, though, the point is that it’ll be difficult to bug our conversation.’

‘Is that likely?’ Rudi queried.

‘No sir,’ replied Terry, ‘but after so many years in this game you get to assume automatically that someone is after you – occupational paranoia.’

They took their time over the meal, which was a pretty passable Italian. The only excitement about it was the scene when Justin tried to sneak garlic bread past the vigilant gaze of Nathan. ‘No, you little sod … give it here.’

‘No! Iss mine, you bastard.’ There was a subdued wrestling match under the table.

‘Stop it, the pair of you,’ Terry growled. ‘You’re rocking the fucking boat. Whass going on?’

Nathan finally wrenched most of the bread out of Justin’s hands, leaving him with a small portion which he defiantly chewed and swallowed. ‘It’s Justin’s digestive plumbing. If any garlic gets in it, he produces vast quantities of gas. You’ll know it tomorrow, you guys,’ he added, glancing significantly at Ed and Henry.

At the end of the meal, Terry looked out on the converging perspective of the darkening canal and the long lines of gabled frontages they were chugging past. ‘Just a few things to say, lads. Firstly, so far as my people can tell, we’re undetected. There may be agents here in Amsterdam, but if so, they’re not on the lookout for you, sir.

‘And sir, Oskar asked me to pass on a message from your mum. She said she was praying for you, and that you were to remember Rudolf V, how he lived and died. What does that mean?’

‘It’s something known only to the Rassendylls and Tarlenheims,’ Rudi replied, his eyes literally blazing. There was silence.

Terry resumed. ‘Back in Rothenia, the election will be on Monday, and tomorrow the blackout on election broadcasts begins. Tonight there’s a very special feature on Eastnet and the commercial channels about a monarchist solution. With that the Elphberg restoration will hit the mainstream. Will Vincent says the online petition has now passed a million signatures and all the political parties are waking up to the vote potential. The key thing is that President Maritz brokered a secret meeting this morning with Helmut Trachtenberg of the Unity Party. Rather than risk the CDP’s taking the balance of power, Trachtenberg has agreed to form a coalition with the remnants of Maritz’s Social Democrats after the election, and set up a constitutional convention to dismantle the Third Republic. This all depends, of course, on quite how badly the election savages Maritz. It is very possible that the Social Democrats and Unity Party will fail to raise a majority between them. The desperate last throw is that Trachtenberg has agreed to give a broadcast tonight proposing the monarchist solution, as if it came from him. It won’t do his core vote any harm – quite the opposite – and it may sway a lot of voters away from the CDP and the Communists.

‘Now boys, it’s eight o’clock and the boat is about to dock. Just down the street is an Internet café, which Jenna rented for the evening so we could set up a big screen to show the Eastnet feature and phone-in. We would have done it in the comfort of the PeacherCorp offices, but if anywhere’s likely to be watched, it’s there.’

In a subdued mood, Terry and the six boys walked down along the canal side to the café, which had posted a notice on the door saying it was closed. Jenna and two men were awaiting them. When Rudi entered, they automatically covered him as if he were the US president. Henry thought how this might be his future now, although Rudi didn’t seem too fazed by it.

There was no sign of a proprietor and it was two other security men who served them soft drinks. The big wall screen was already playing the streamed Eastnet channel, which was showing a live broadcast from the Rodolferplaz in Strelzen. Eastnet journalists were interviewing people in the street, where it was pretty evident that Will Vincent’s Internet campaign had produced dividends. Elphberg banners were everywhere. Some young people were even wearing red lion masks.

Henry was pleased to find he could follow most of the interviews. He was particularly riveted when one middle-class lady said that, as far as she was concerned, you couldn’t trust politicians with the future. Only the monarchy had ever worked, as it saw itself holding the kingdom in trust for future generations.

A guy in the background shouted out, ‘We want the Elphbergs!’ When some members of the crowd responded that they were dead and gone, three or four others came back to contradict them, shouting that they wanted the ‘Prinz Angliske’. The reporter looked confused at that point, and moved elsewhere in the crowd. Nonetheless, as the programme ended, calls for ‘the English prince’ were still echoing in the great square, along with much flourishing of red-and-gold banners.

Henry whispered summaries of what was going on to Nate and Ed. Justin had got himself a beer and was apparently zoned out.

Terry looked at Rudi, who was translating the comments for him. ‘Couldn’t be better, sir. Will’s campaign is coming together. Though I wonder whether Oskar had those guys planted in the crowd. One of them looked suspiciously like a Falkefilm model.’

After a few adverts, which got Justin interested again, the feature began. It was presented by the Strelsenermedia director of news and information, Oskar’s old university friend, Tomas Weissman. The present crisis was briskly outlined, and the state of the parties summarised. It looked on the face of things as if the CDP was headed for victory if the Maritz coalition came apart and the fragments moved to the right.

Doubting that interpretation, Henry did some quick maths. If the Social Democrat vote held up and the Unity Party performed to its best, then a Maritz-Trachtenberg coalition would easily overshadow the rest. Although the programme didn’t mention this as an option, it did give a powerful diagnosis of the failures of the Third Republic, and heavily pushed the idea of reform.

Henry noticed Rudi go tense at that point, and sit forward in his chair. Tomas began a lead into a recorded portion with clips from Matt White’s influential documentary on the Elphberg dynasty. He continued by discussing the 1880 crisis and the disastrous accession of the Thuringians. Then he recalled the suppressed claims of the Burlesdon Elphbergs, disappointed in 1880 and again in 1919. There were shots of Rudi’s home in Suffolk, where the camera mounted a grand staircase focussing on portraits of successive earls from the sixth to the thirteenth, Rudi’s dad. Tomas was waiting at the top of the stairs to lead the way along a great gallery and through tall double doors.

Henry prodded a tense Rudi in the back. ‘Nice pad you got there, mate.’

Tension made Rudi giggle. ‘Watch the next bit,’ he hissed.

And there he was, standing at a marble fireplace in a well-cut suit, looking rather handsome if not so tall as in person. He shook Tomas’s hand and greeted him in perfect Rothenian. They took facing chairs in the classic celebrity interview style.

‘Sir,’ Tomas began in Rothenian, ‘many of our viewers will know little about you.’

An amazingly relaxed Rudi smiled warmly. ‘I am the Elphberg heir, Herr Weissman, Rudolf Robert Maxim Elphberg-Rassendyll, direct descendant in the male line of King Rudolf III. I’m seventeen and finishing school in England, despite which I know Rothenia intimately. In fact, I hold dual citizenship, and I am count of Hentzau as well as earl of Burlesdon here in England.’

‘Your Rothenian is very good, sir,’ continued Tomas. ‘I can’t tell it isn’t your first language.’

‘My grandmother is of the family of Vinodol-Kesarstejne. She had me speaking Rothenian from the time I was a baby, and I have spent several summers in the country, where I am landowner.’

‘There’s a lot of interest at the moment, sir, in a restoration of the monarchy. Your ancestor of the same name was excluded from succession by the illegitimacy of his descent from Rudolf III.’

‘That was 1880, Mr Weissman. In 1910 Rothenia accepted Maxim Elphberg, brother of the eleventh earl, as king. That removed any obstacle for a claim to succession by an illegitimate descendant.’

‘Do I take it from that, sir, that you consider yourself a claimant to the ancient throne of Ruritania?’

‘I do. There is nothing I would like better than to be the next Elphberg king. It’s something I have been preparing for all my life: to restore the great tradition of tolerance that my ancestors blessed their kingdom with. I want to be a new focus for unity in a troubled country, the way the Bourbons have been in Spain and the house of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha in Belgium. Of course, the future of Rothenia is for the people to decide. But with a king in place above the squabbles of the Parlementplaz they will at least be able to rally to one national figurehead.’

‘Sir, how do you feel about the present crisis in Rothenia?’

‘I know ethnic divisions are opening up which could be closed by a touch of Elphberg glue. Although my family was once German, it came to express all that is best about Rothenia – the warmth, the passion and the courage that are at the heart of my people: warmth of brotherly love, passion for justice, and courage to grasp a neighbour’s hand. The idea that there may be some who think Rothenia would be a better place if it were turned into another Bosnia is insanity … I know what Rudolf V and Flavia would have thought of such an absurd notion.’

‘And I imagine we know what Henry the Lion would have done about it?’

Rudi gave a polite laugh. ‘Rothenia has earned its right to be ranked with the great European democracies. It was Rudolf V who promoted parliament within the old constitution. My people now have a choice before them. If they choose to recall my family, I will be honoured to answer their call.’

Tomas thanked Rudi, and turned to the camera. ‘So there he is, ladies and gentlemen, the man who would be King Rudolf VI.’

The broadcast returned to the studio, where Tomas kicked off a marathon call-in with a panel of constitutional experts. The phone lines were jammed. Halfway through, he responded to breaking news he was hearing by announcing that they were switching over to Rechtenberg city hall, where Helmut Trachtenberg was making a statement.

Appearing at a podium ranked with mics, he began by reading a carefully prepared declaration to which he said his party’s central office had just agreed. The Unity Party was fully committing itself to constitutional reform as the only possible way to hold the country together. In furtherance of that reform, it would support the restoration of the monarchy. Cameras flashed and there was a tumult of shouting.

When the programme finally got back to the call-in, a poll was establishing that over three-quarters of the callers wanted reform and two-thirds wanted the monarchy back. The petition site had crashed from the number of hits on it. ‘Either that,’ reflected Terry, ‘or that git Hendrik has taken it down.’

It was as the news came on that Will Vincent engineered a cunning ambush on the CDP. When Eastnet journalists flat-footed Bermann by telling him of the Unity Party’s announcement, he went into a frantic and ugly tirade that left little doubt about the nature of the government he would head, and was guaranteed to turn off any floating voters. It was broadcast regularly every fifteen minutes thereafter on the rolling news.

To cap it all, President Maritz, when likewise challenged, gave a measured and statesmanlike response that he would by no means rule out a constitutional convention or a referendum as possible avenues of future unity.

‘Like clockwork, boys, like clockwork,’ Terry chortled as they got up to leave. ‘Will and Oskar have done a brilliant job … but now it’s up to the voters, who’ll have their own ideas, I don’t doubt.’

‘Hey Rudi, when did you do that interview?’ asked Ed.

Rudi looked a little shy. ‘Oh, er … Eastnet came and filmed it at exeat. I had to find a way of getting the grandparents out of the house, which wasn’t easy.’

‘No wonder you were so tense,’ Ed went on. ‘Did you think up all that yourself?’

‘Actually yes, I did, though I tried it out on Oskar first.’

‘Cool,’ decided Henry. ‘When we get back, you can do the next sixth-form assembly.’

***

The boys were drained intellectually by the time they returned to their modest hotel, but physically they were humming. Ed and Henry followed Nathan and Justin up to their room, where they arranged the beds into two doubles and then sat on them. ‘How do we do this?’ Ed asked a little nervously.

Justin grinned suggestively at the question but it was Nathan who answered. ‘Guys, I’m sorry but I’ve got to have my little mate’s arse and now.’ Justin smiled and nodded. Nathan continued, ‘If you want to be modest, then you’d better give us half an hour. But I rather hope …’

Ed looked at Henry and then they too nodded. Ed closed with Henry and began kissing him while stripping him, and Nathan did the same to Justin. Soon the smaller boys were naked, and Justin was grinning lasciviously at Henry over Nathan’s shoulder as his lover kissed and sucked at the hollow space in his neck. Nathan broke off and shed his own clothes, followed not long after by Ed.

Lying on their adjacent beds, the couples began a protracted session of foreplay, heightened amazingly by each watching the other. Soon it went beyond voyeurism as Henry was given his chance. He and Justin left Ed and Nate and began making out big time, their lips around each other’s cocks, while the bigger men sat masturbating each other watching their respective mates engaged in an erotic frenzy of sucking, stroking and fingering.

Justin’s passion was a revelation to Henry; he squirmed like an eel on heat and made small moans of passion as Henry’s fingers and lips aroused him. At one point his head dived between Henry’s buttocks, his tongue easily penetrating his open anus and searching around inside him till Henry lost it, groaned and looked down as his cock leaked cum on to the sheets below him.

Nathan eventually could wait no more. He hauled Henry off Justin, put Justin on all fours, and began rimming him patiently and persistently. Ed took Justin’s place and did the same with Henry. Henry laid his head down on his arms and smiled across at Justin, who made kissing actions with his lips. Henry was soon moaning again.

After ten minutes, Nathan began preparing Justin with his fingers. Henry felt his own lover’s fingers do the same, followed by the cool drip of lube on his hole. The bigger boys entered their lovers simultaneously, Henry and Justin both up on fours with their backs arching as they were penetrated.

For a while Ed matched Nathan, who had covered Justin and was pushing into him slowly and patiently. Henry loved watching Justin’s beautiful cock swaying between his legs with the thrusts. Ed soon pressed Henry down flatter into the bed and reached up under his arms. Henry loved this part as Ed possessed him totally, burying himself deeper and deeper until he was as far in as he could go, then rotating his hips and reaming Henry with his length. The further stimulation to Henry’s already stimulated prostate was awesome, making him groan and bit the sheets.

Noticing Justin’s lustful eyes fixed on his, Henry reached across the gap in the beds and ran his hand up and down Justin’s arm. Justin caught the hand, kissed it and sucked Henry’s fingers.

Both Nathan and Ed now began pumping hard into their lovers. Ed lost it first, almost crushing Henry as he tensed and shot deep inside him. They both collapsed, still connected, while Nathan finished off Justin, pulling him up from the bed and gripping him round the waist as he did the final thrusts hard up into the slim kneeling boy clasped to him. Then they too fell forward.

They all lay dazed, until Justin rose on his elbows and crowed, ‘So I got my live sex show after all … and man, was it fucking hot!’