Graham Howard went to his tutor, Peter’s, bedroom door to check on him. The young man had been drinking throughout the evening, taking advantage of the absence of Graham’s parents for the weekend, and Graham thought he heard voices from Peter’s room. Had Peter brought someone else to his room? If so, Graham was piqued and frustrated. He’d tried his best to get the handsome tutor to bed him, and Peter had said the fourteen-year-old Graham was entirely too young and, besides, Graham’s father, Guy Howard, Lord Ballentyne, would sack Peter on the spot if he were caught with Graham that way. But the other voice sounded like the stable boy, Dietrich, the same age as Graham, fourteen, so Graham was frustrated that Dietrich might be in there with Peter, and he wasn’t.

Not needing a vocation, Lord Ballentyne’s avocation was as a violinist in the London Philharmonic Society, which then, in 1870, was in hiatus as its future home, the Royal Albert Hall, was finishing construction. His wife, Lady Edith, played the piccolo in the orchestra. As they waited for the symphony to reconvene, the Howards had been touring Europe to take in the music scene elsewhere. Richard Strauss, the second, was preparing a royal performance of his recently composed “Tails from the Vienna Woods” for Austria-Hungarian emperor Francis Joseph I, to be performed by the Vienna Philharmonic Symphony in Vienna that summer, and Lord Ballentyne and his wife had secured positions in the orchestra. Going the whole distance, they had rented a villa in Weinerwald, at the edge of the Vienna Woods, to be “in the mood.” The villa was some distance from Vienna, though, so they spent many of the rehearsal nights leading up to the performance in Vienna.

The Howards had brought their son, Graham, with them, but he was not the heir, just the spare, so he always had been treated a bit as an afterthought and had been turned over to his music tutor, Peter, without a thought to the lifestyle interests of the young, handsome man they had engaged in Paris before coming to Vienna. The heir, Guy, was safely tucked away in school in England.

Coming to the doorway of Peter’s room, Graham was not surprised—or shocked—by what he saw, and he remained, watching it to its climax, wishing that he were Dietrich.

Both of them, Peter and Dietrich, were naked. The small, solidly built, peasant-stock Dietrich was lying on his stomach on the bed, with Peter, weaving a bit, clearly into his cups, sitting beside him. Peter was leaning over the boy and had just kissed him on the upper back, between the shoulder blades and was rising into a sitting position as Graham came to the door. Dietrich’s left arm was wrapped around Peter’s waist, the arm draped over Peter’s left thigh, and Dietrich’s hand was encasing Peter’s erection and slow stroking it. Peter was stroking and squeezing the boy’s plump buttocks with his right hand. The boy moaned as Peter’s fingers slid into the crease of the orb and pressed inside.

Dietrich groaned and raised up a bit on his knees, lifting his buttocks into Peter’s searching hand. Peter’s finger sank in deeper.

Peter kissed down the boy’s body. The boy moaned as Peter raised his right leg, placing the boy’s ankle on his shoulder, and Peter’s mouth covered the boy’s cock. The finger in the boy’s channel became two and were moving in and out.

“Ja, ja,” Dietrich murmured and arched his back, his hands going to the back of Peter’s head as the man’s mouth on the cock was exchanged by a hand and Peter moved lower, his tongue pushing into the crease off the boy’s buttocks. “Ja, ja, ja,” the boy whimpered as Peter tongued his hole, alternating with nipping at and licking the boy’s plump cheeks.

“Frick mich. Frick mich—Fuck me, fuck me,” Graham heard the stable boy beg.

As Graham, panting and fingering himself, watched, Peter twisted around, went up on the bed on his knees, mounted himself on the boy’s buttocks, holding his cock in his hand until he had gained purchase of the bulb in the hole, and then hovered over Dietrich’s prone body, which Dietrich held with his buttocks raised to the cock. Peter planted his knees on either side of the boy’s thighs and his hands in the mattress on either site of the boy’s shoulders, and hovering there, penetrated the passage.

Dietrich panted and gave a little cry of, “Ja, so. Gib es mir. Fich mich!—Yes, give it to me. Fuck me!” As Graham watched, aching that it would be him rather than Dietrich, Peter used the leverage of his knees to set his pelvis in motion, rising and falling on the Austrian boy’s ass, the length of Peter’s cock appearing and disappearing as the boy under him started a countermotion of his own of raising his buttocks on the downstroke and lowering it as two-thirds of the hard cock surfaced from the crease. Dietrich’s right hand was tucked under his belly, grasping his own cock, held slightly above the surface of the mattress, and was stroking it and dragging it across the coverlet. He too was hard.

All three engaged in this copulation—Graham was engaged as well—were panting.

At the moment that both of the figures jerked and shuddered, and came, Graham gave a little cry himself as a wet spot appeared and spread on the front of his sleeping trousers, and he turned and returned to his own room, frustrated and mumbling to himself, “I don’t know why ... I’m fourteen now, same as Dietrich.” It wasn’t like he wasn’t ready for it. He had toughened up. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and rummage in the back of the drawer. He pulled out the dildo he had acquired, oiled it up, inserted it, and slowly worked himself. It was as long and as thick as Peter’s cock. It wasn’t any longer that he couldn’t take a shaft. It was that he hadn’t taken a real man’s shaft. He could take Peter’s cock, if the man would put it in him.

Graham returned to Peter’s room in the morning, aching for it and determined to bring this to a head. His parents didn’t care. They didn’t pay any attention to him. Whatever affection he got was from Peter. Peter fucked fourteen-year-old boys. Graham had watched him do it. Peter could damn well initiate Graham and the two of them could have the romantic relationship Graham craved. If Peter refused to do it, Graham would threaten to tell his parents he tried to do it anyway.

But when Graham got to the room, he saw that Peter was hopelessly in a deep, snoring sleep. Worse, Dietrich was still in bed with him, the two stretched out against each other, naked, their arms and legs entwined.

In frustration, Graham backed away from Peter’s door. He went back to his own room and dressed for a hike. They lived on the edge of the fabled Vienna Woods, and he still had not explored it. He grabbed a roll with cheese it in as he passed the kitchen, mumbling to the cook that he was going to study the vegetation in the forest as his assignment that day, and left the villa.

He walked in the woods and kept on walking for an hour. He came upon a pond in a clearing. He saw the folded clothes, a multicolored embroidered vest on top, before he realized that someone was in the pond. The someone was another boy—a boy of Graham’s own age. He had an exotic appearance. His skin was of a dusky appearance, his features were sharp, albeit quite handsome, and his hair was jet black and curly. His eyes were black too, and they sparkled when they took in Graham approaching.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see that anyone was here,” Graham said, the words catching in his throat, as it was shallow where the boy was swimming and, when he stood, Graham saw that he was naked. His body was slim, his hips narrow. His was a beautiful, young, boyish body. But he had the cock of a man.

He realized he’d spoken in English and now attempted German. “Es tut mir leid, wenn du mich nicht verstehst. Ich wess nicht, welche Sprache du sprichst—And sorry, if you don’t understand me. I don’t know what language you speak. My German is not too good.”

“English is fine. My people all speak English. When we were there, the English pretended not to understand any other language, so we learned theirs. I don’t wish to be alone. Come into the pond with me,” the boy said. His voice was rich. He had some sort of foreign accent—not German. There wasn’t anything Germanic about the boy at all. That might have been why Graham’s first instinct was not to address him in German. He was exotic, a being of the Orient, in Graham’s eyes. Graham was mesmerized.

“I don’t have a suit to wear.”

“I didn’t either,” the boy said, “as you can see.” He had been standing in shallow water, naked, He sank down into the water now and pushed off farther into the pond. “I am Luca. You don’t sound Austrian.”

“I’m not,” Graham said, as he stripped off his clothes and was folding them neatly. “I’m English. My name is Graham. My family is here to play in a concert in Vienna. You don’t sound Austrian, either.”

“I’m not. I’m Romany,” Luca answered. “My family is just passing through. We have been to England, as I said. Do come into the water, Graham. Swim with me.”

Romany. Graham knew that was the word for the gypsies, who traveled here and there in Europe in caravans, footloose and a law until themselves until the locals forced them to move on. Exotic indeed, and Graham had been forbidden to have any contact with them. Perfect for the mood he was in. He finished stripping down to naked and waded into the pool.

The two boys swam circles around each other, discussing this and that—the Romany life and how free it was and Graham’s life and how restricted it was. They discussed their likes and dislikes. Luca spoke of the free and easy life, with few “no’s” and a great deal of indulging pleasures and Graham spoke of his sexual frustration and need—and of how his parents managed to smoother him while not paying him any attention.

Lucas swam circles around Graham, moving in and touching the boy lightly here, there, and there, and then moving away. Graham found the touching arousing.

“You mean you are still a virgin?” Luca asked, somewhat incredulously, as he swam in closer to Graham. “You have a beautiful body. You have not lain with a girl yet?”

“No,” Graham answered. Luca caught the tone of Graham’s voice. “But it is a man you want, isn’t it?” he asked. “You spoke of your tutor and how handsome he is. You sound almost as if you are in love with him. You want to lie under him, don’t you? No, it’s just the two of us here, you can speak the truth.”

“We have embraced and kissed, but he won’t do more,” Graham said, his voice revealing his frustration and ache. “But I’ve seen him do more—with another boy my age.”

“You saw him fucking this other boy?”

“Yes.”

“And you want him to cover you—to be inside you.”

“Yes.”

“How old are you, Graham?”

“Fourteen.”

“And you are still a virgin? I am fourteen too, Graham.”

“And you are not a virgin?”

Luca laughed. “Nowhere close, Graham. And I lie under men. I’m sure I would want your tutor to cover me too. But I have done that with other men. Men have covered me and been inside me. And I am but fourteen, just as you are. Come here Graham. Swim to me.”

Graham didn’t really have to swim far to reach Luca. Luca had come in close. In fact, as they had talked, he had touched Graham here and there, with the effect not having been lost on Graham, who was panting lightly and who was feeling himself engorge. That was a part of his issue. He could react as a man now. Why wasn’t he being treated like a man? He knew Peter was attracted to him, and Peter was lying with the stable boy, Dietrich. And Dietrich was no older than Graham was.

The two boys floated together. Luca encircled Graham’s torso with one arm, holding the other boy close to him as they floated in the water. Graham stiffened.

“Relax, Graham. Go with me. I wish to help you.” Graham relaxed.

Luca’s other hand went between them, gliding down Graham’s shuddering torso all the way down to his groin. Luca encased Graham’s cock with his hand. He encased both of their shafts together. They both were hard. Their lips met and they kissed. Luca began to rock his pelvis against Graham and Graham instinctively fell into the rhythm of that. They kissed more deeply, Luca’s tongue pushing in between Graham’s lips.

“Do you want me to stop, Graham?”

“No,” the boy answered.

Luca took one of Graham’s hands and moved it to their cocks, making Graham encase the two shafts together and frot them, as his hand now snaked around Graham’s waist and went lower, his fingers search for, and finding, the crease in Graham’s buttocks and then his anal opening. Graham broke from the kiss and leaned back, looking up into the sky, panting harder now and moaning. Then groaning as Luca’s long, slender finger went deeper inside Graham, was joined by another, and then the two started to move: in, out; in deeper, out. The heel of his hand pressed into Graham’s tailbone, pulling Graham’s groin into Luca’s. There was no question they both were erect.

The pleasure was overwhelming. Graham knew he should break it off. But he’d dreamed of this, waited for this for far too long. Luca coaxed Graham to raise his legs in the water and hook them onto Luca’s hips. Then, under Luca’s guidance, Graham leaned back, his fists locked behind Luca’s neck to hold himself there, steady. His pelvis rolled up.

“Luca, Luca, Luca,” he murmured as Luca put the bulb of his cock in place, and then “Oh, God! Luca!” he cried out as the hand on Graham’s tailbone pulled his passage onto Luca’s penetrating cock. Graham instinctive writhed a bit, ineffectually trying to pull away from the invading shaft, but that only served to pull the cock deeper. Luca only went in a few inches, though, and held, as Graham gasped.

“Relax, relax. Take it. It’s done now. Take the rest of it. You want it.”

Graham let his body collapse, his passage walls gave way, and Luca sank in to the root. He gently started the pump, applying and releasing pressure on Graham’s tail bone to pull him onto the shaft and to let it withdraw. In, out, in out. They were setting into the rhythm of the fuck.

In an instant, Graham was no longer a virgin to a man’s shaft. He sobbed, concentrating on the pain-pleasure as Luca grasped and spread his buttocks cheeks and pulled him on and off the hard shaft, intensifying the movement of the cock in the passage. But Graham held, exhilarated that he’d been freed at last, concentrating on the pleasure rather than the pain. Within minutes he released his seed up the Romany boy’s belly. Luca quickly followed with his breeding deep inside the passage, and Graham’s initiation was complete.

They fucked again on the mossy bank of the pond, Luca on top of Graham, Graham’s legs spread, his heels rubbing on the meat of Luca’s calves in the rhythm of the fuck. The stroking was more assured, stronger. Graham’s response was more as a partner in the movement than a docile vessel.

Graham couldn’t get enough of it now. When they finished, Luca lay stretched out beside but hovering over Graham’s body. “That is what you wanted, what you needed,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Graham agreed.

“But it’s not all of it. There is more.”

“More?”

“Yes. I am just another boy. You talk of your tutor. He’s a man. You need a man between your thighs. A big-cocked man.”

“You have a big cock.”

“Not like that of a man who can take you to heaven in pleasure. A man of experience who can teach you of the pleasures you can have from sexual freedom.”