Lanced a Lot

By Silenos69

Published on Mar 6, 2022

Gay

LANCED-A-LOT

By: Silenos

This story is a work of fiction and involves teenagers in sexual situations. If that offends you, don't read it. If you are underage, don't read it (like that's going to happen). This story belongs solely to the author and may not be copied or reproduced in whole or in part without permission of the author.

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Feedback is always gratefully appreciated: silenos69@protonmail.com

Dear Reader: If you have not been following the story an explanation of where it came from is after the end of the chapter.

LANCED-A-LOT: Chapter 17

On reaching the edge of Castlemount I explained to Idris and Gallant that Michael and I were going to take Rump for a swim and clean him up a bit before bringing him to the Castle. One look (and a sniff) at the lovely, scruffy, little rag-a-muffin and the two Knights merely nodded and headed on with Maq while the three of us diverted to the swimming place, or the "hole" as it had come to be known. To our delight and surprise it was empty except for the enchanting Sprite, who was lying naked and asleep in the warm sun.

Sprite had joined our little group a few nights before when he showed up after supper at our apartments. Idris and Gallant had retired to Gallant's rooms and were making their usual lovey-dovey-fuck-me-harder noises with the adjoining door blocked open again (the two, like me, shamelessly loved an audience). Michael and I were stripped down and doing some kissing and fondling of our own when there came a tapping on the door.

Exasperated at the interruption I cared not what state I was in and threw the door open remaining naked and lance raised to see who it was. There was Sprite.

"Sorry, I..., er..." He noticed my condition and began to salivate before he collected himself saying "...think I may have come at a bad, or good, time."

"What do you mean?" I question as I began to fondle my already dripping lance. I'd seen the hesitance change to lust in his eyes.

"Well, it is a bad time if I have interrupted something and you send me away. It is a good time if you invite me in." He grinned boldly.

I grinned back, he was a little taller than me, but I reached under his arms, picked him up while kicking the door shut and carried him to the bed, announcing to Michael "it seems we have a foolish boy who wants to join our games, but he doesn't know the rule of no clothes."

Michael let out a snort laugh and jumped on the bed proclaiming "we must show him the rules!" With that he and I both began pulling and tugging at the boy's garments until he too was naked. His lance was about the same as mine, 6" and reasonably thick, with lovely blond curls surrounding its base. He was hard and dripping in spite of his giggles and our tickling. In the midst of all this I used some more oil and applied it to his punch hole which gladly received a finger or two in the process. Michael and I had already prepared ourselves for the evening.

"You're both hairless!" he observed between the laughter and the teasing.

"Later," was all I said wasting no time and driving my lance deep into his arse. There was a momentary pause, but not even a wince. He was very tight and seemed to almost greedily suck my member in.

"Oooooooh!" Sprite cooed in ecstasy as his eyes rolled back in his head. "That feels so good!" Michael mounted me from behind and the fun and games were on. I had shaved Gallant and Michael that morning to their pleasure and delight; it had resulted in its own round of fun. So after giving Sprite a good pummeling with all of us shooting, me in Sprite, Michael in me, and Sprite all over himself, we explained the reasons for the lack of hair down there and then I shaved him too. Which, of course started another go round with Sprite in me and me in Michael.

The obvious thing to me when he pushed into my love chute was the boy knew his stuff. He found my nub and rather than driving deep and hard, went in and out with the head of his lance to maximize the stimulus in me. This boy knew his hammer from his nails, and seemed to take his greatest pleasure in giving pleasure, which is sort of my own motto. He was brilliant! Not to mention he was cute and fun. Definitely one for the roster of intimate friends. He joined us after that whenever he could and became one of the "casuals" whether alone or together in the future. That position solidified when Idris and Gallant, done with their own love making and intrigued by our noises, joined us. We went deep into the night and Knights achieving a wonderous amount of positions and combinations. It was an enchanted evening and morning with a small pause for the kisses of Morpheus.

Back to the point: Sprite was asleep in the grass, naked and inviting. I motioned the others to silence and had a whisper with Michael, who covered his mouth as he stifled his giggles and nodded in agreement. Rump looked puzzled as I explained to him while all of us stripped down. The boy snickered willingly. We approached our sleeping lover as quietly as possible. Poor thing was truly dead to the world as Michael picked up the boy's hose from the ground and slipped them over the boy's head then took his legs and pinned them, I moved to his arms pinning them also while Rump positioned himself at the young man's backside. He started to position himself and then began pushing in.

That was when the fireworks started. "Get the fuck off me you bastard!" Screamed Sprite. He ripped himself free of our holds, which had no real intent so they were not firm to begin with. Sprite staggered to his feat screaming "You'll not have me you bastards!" as he pulled the cowl of his hose from his head. I had made a grave mistake.

Sprite stood naked, fists raised, until he recognized us. "What were you fools thinking?!" He demanded. "I recognize the two of you but who is the twat who was trying to pierce my arse?" There was a fury in his voice I would not have expected.

The realization sank in, we were possibly too familiar. We had taken things for granted. It was wrong. I do not know if I will ever get over the lesson that struck home for me at that moment. Certainly, we had meant it in fun, but had mistakenly taken advantage of a friend outside the confines of an agreed or known area. He had actually thought he was being raped and he was. There is no excuse for that, I will never live that down. Thankfully, Sprite was Sprite, and his lusty nature took over. He began to chuckle after a moment and said: "Who is the new boy, and why do you all stink of fish and the sea? No matter, go wash yourselves and I will lay down and sleep again, only this time I will know, and to make good ALL of you have to fuck me only this time willingly unwilling." He chided with a grin, his weapon dripping from its fiercely hungry desire.

"Sprite, I am so sor..."

Sprite cut me off: "I know you meant well, but my fantasies are just that. They have nothing to do with realities."

I caught my breath and almost cried, pleading forgiveness I approached him coughing close to tears "Sprite, I am so sorry, it was meant in fun..."

He cut me off with a wink. "Get the mongrel and your fishy, stinky selves in the river to wash. I repeat, I shall return to my nap and expect to be raped properly by those I know. Just get the stink off, and by the way. Whoever the mongrel is gets first dibs on my arse as he is fresh meat. Unlike your two tired sausages that I am weary of" He joked.

I fell down laughing, you could not help but love a boy who sees what is what and finds the humor in it. Michael looked like he was ready to kill, not understanding. I grabbed his ankle from my place on the ground to stop him from fisting Sprite. Why does anger and presumptuous honor so affect people to violence? I am sure I will never know. There is so much more to words and speech than words and speech if on listens. Anger is an ugly stew best left to simmer but never left to boil if you are to make a tasty meal.

Poor Rump looked as if his best day had just turned to his worst so I reassured him with words as best I could while we bathed. Thankfully Sprite had brought a bar of soap*, not known to most in those days, but it removed scent and dirt at the same time! What an amazing thing. I had encountered it before but never had the privilege of enjoying it until that day. Soap and cleaning yourself or your garments, with it was not unknown though it was expensive and not generally used by peasants; but to put it in a bar! This, of course, gave me another idea for a path of revenue.

Michael and I had thrown Rump in the river and he was surprised at the lack of the buoyancy he was used to from the sea. Then again, he quickly adapted to it for its cleanliness and lack of salt. We washed him and his pitiful few garments while he reveled in the sensation of fresh water spewing out mouthfuls of it excitedly squealing at the lack of salt or mire in it. Previous to this he had never felt or tasted fresh water other than from the meager village Well. It somewhat shocked me, but then I realized fresh water was a rare thing in his experience. Other than cooking, what was the need for it when so much water was available from the sea even if the mouth of a river was only a short distance away?

We cleaned up and stepped away from the river to find Sprite seemingly sleeping again. His hose once again pulled over his head. "The new boy gets my hole," he pretended sleep muttering. So it was. Rump mounted Sprite and Michael and I held down his arms and legs as our new companion took advantage or Sprites eager (and oiled) rosebud. It was very exciting to watch causing Michael and my lances to grow even harder than they had been before; which had been quite hard. The sight of Rump's shaft driving in and out of Sprites delicious buttocks drove us crazy as Sprite spent on the grass he had been fucking, and Rump shot up Sprite's rump.

After that it was a free-for-all. The faux rape had so excited Sprite and Rump to the extent they remained hard even after their comes. When it was my turn I reveled in the slickness of the others seed; in taking turns I find it is better to go last. We continued the fantasy by rotated places holding Sprite down while Michael first and then I fucked him. He came hands free each time in spurts until Rump finished the chain in first and last place by coming up Sprite's own rump and then well lubricated and exhausted arse for a second time. Not to be out done the grass below Sprite's belly was repeatedly slick and well fertilized by his repeated emissions (that lad would never be able to get enough cock up himself). It was really rather splendid, and definitely fun for all in spite of the bad beginnings. I had learned an important lesson; as had the other boys.

When all were sated for the moment we removed the blindfold of hose on Sprite's head. His eyes were bouncing in their sockets while come dripped from his hole. He was barely to walk and bore a deliriously happy grin. We all bathed and washed each other again before. I bade Michael to care for him and the horses while I took Rump to the weaver woman for clothes. She would reveal herself to not be what I had thought and to have her own secrets.

*Bar soap came to the British Isles in the 11th century (early 1000s). Keep in mind, most people at the time not only did not bathe, many actually considered it unhealthy.


This tale came to me from a wealthy friend who found it bound in his family's extensive bookshelves. Nobody could read it as it was in a strange hand and written in a mix of the common tongue and Norman French of its day. His family has lived in the same place, if not home, for centuries and are what one might consider landed gentry. My friend brought it to me in hopes I might be able to transcribe it into the English of our own time as that sort of thing is what I do. I have updated it only in that I have made such things as measurements, expressions, and such understandable by our reckoning today. What I found in my labors was quite startling. It would be wise for the reader to remember that mores were different then, and that the perception of "age" was as well. Average life expectancy was about 33 years, and people were smaller too, the average height being about 5'7". Insofar as I can tell these pages were written after the Norman conquest, but not by much. England, Scotland, Wales and Cornwall were all very much their own kingdoms, with petty kingdoms within, and Vikings could still be something of a nuisance in some parts even though history says their terror ended in exactly 1066.

Next: Chapter 18


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