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Life in The Village, through the eyes of Tom Grant, the only teacher at the remote school.
This is an original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
(re-written from my 2013 version)
The resemblance of the characters by action, name, location or description to any real person is purely coincidental.
If it is illegal, or offensive, for you to read stories involving interactions of a sexual nature between adults and youths, then what are you doing here?
From Chapter 43:
I close my email and the browser defaults to the MSN `local” Queensland news page.
I stare at the headline that confronts me.
Without a spoken word, for I am unable to speak, I indicate for Will to look at my screen as I turn it towards him.
It reads, .
For innumerable seconds my breathing stops, my heart pounds, my eyes fill and my head throbs. Then I hear the dogs bark.
My first reaction is that Marty”s home! At least, I hope that it”s Marty and not a police car.
Chapter 44 – Accidental Deaths
“Shut up!” I hear.
The barking stops.
Yes. It is Marty!
My breathing re-starts, but my head is still pounding as I contemplate the possible consequences of a helicopter crashing near Cunnamulla. Mind you, it”s not a big airport for domestic or international flights; more of an airfield with some comfortable buildings for passenger convenience. It”s suitable for small aircraft, and strategically located for the Flying Doctor Service. I Googled the town and its facilities when I first received my letter of appointment to the school and when I read the words, `via Cunnamulla”.
Maybe the helicopter wasn”t the same one with Ash, Uncle Bill and Helen in it.
But Uncle Bill did say that `his” was the only one based at Cunnamulla that could seat more than two people.
Maybe a different helicopter flew in today! But why, out here?
Marty waltzes in. “Hi guys. Something smells good.” Then he stops and looks from me to Will and back again. If our general mood hasn”t permeated the air, then our countenances must obviously convey some cause for concern.
“What”s up?” he asks. “You two lovebirds have a fight, or something?”
Neither Will nor I respond before Marty continues, “You”re not pissed off about Ash being here with me last night, are you? I like him!”
“You don”t say!” Will retorts, and Marty just smirks.
I hold up my tablet and allow Marty to read the headline.
“When did that happen?” he asks. The smirk has gone. He continues to read, verbalising some key words. “Early today… male pilot… two passengers, one male, one female.”
His shock merges with our palpable grief.
“Wait!” he says. “Look! The article just updated… with a photo.”
The three of us crowd over the screen. “Oh, no!” Will chokes out. “It”s the same helicopter. See those letters on the wreckage?”
“Yes?” I comment, and add, “That”s the Civil Aviation ID. Every registered aircraft has a unique set.”
“I noticed and remembered the letters on the one that our dad was flying, because the last three are Uncle Reg”s initials. They”re the same! It”s Dad”s helicopter!”
He bursts into tears and throws his arms around me, sobbing heavily.
It”s impossible not to do the same. And Marty wraps his strong arms around both of us. Despite just wanting to comfort both of us, I”m sure, I can feel a trembling in his own body.
We hold each other for maybe just a minute or so, but it seems so much longer. Marty breaks away to reach for the box of tissues on the corner table. There is much eye-wiping and nose blowing.
“Back in a minute,” I tell them and dash to the bedroom. I return with my phone and press Uncle Bill”s number. It goes straight to voicemail. I try again. Same thing, and I leave no message. “No answer,” I tell Marty and Will.
“Ring Ash”s phone,” Will says.
“I have his number, if you need it,” Marty offers.
“Oh, do you now?” Will comments.
Not to be outdone by this come-lately admirer of Ash, I say to Marty, holding up my phone to display Ash”s details, “So do we.” I press the dial icon and activate the `speaker” mode so that all may hear.
It rings out; nobody answers.
“Try again!” Marty insists. I press `redial” and count off the rings. It disconnects.
“That”s weird!” Will comments. “Ash said that he always has his phone with him so that he doesn”t miss important calls. He wears it on a pouch on his belt.”
“When did he tell you that?” I ask, suspecting some private conversations between Ash and Will. No wonder he”s pissed off about Ash spending the night, naked, in Marty”s bed! But, yes, I did notice that pouch.
“I don”t remember,” Will replies. “Maybe at the dinner. Didn”t he tell you the same thing?”
He”s either attempting to cover his tracks or my memory is deteriorating!
“You want a coffee, Marty?” Will asks, heading away from possible interrogation by me or Marty.
“Thanks, Cuz,” he says and, showing signs of obvious distress, flops into his favourite armchair.
There is so much to say, but anguished silence prevails.
Uncle Bill, Ash and Helen O”Sullivan! Dead?
Will and I both sit. The three of us stare blankly through each other, and sip.
We all jump when my phone rings, shattering the stillness with the loud tone which I had previously selected.
I grab it and look at the screen. “It”s from Ash”s phone,” I tell the others and enable hands-free so that they can hear too. I answer tentatively, hoping not to hear a police officer or medic on the other end. “Hello?”
“Hey, Tom,” Ash chirps. “How”s it going?”
“Where the hell have you been?” I question him, then become suddenly aware of the sharpness of my words.
“What”s wrong, Tom?” the phone responds. “What do you mean? I was just in the shower.” Then he adds, “Alone… in case you were wondering!” I can hear the smile on his face.
“Sorry, Ash,” I begin. “I just… we just…”
I”m lost for words and Marty puts out his hand for the phone. “Ash, it”s Marty. Are you OK?”
“Hey, roommate! Yeah, I”m great, especially after last night.” He doesn”t know that he”s on loudspeaker. Will and I look at each other. Ash goes on, “What”s up, mate? What”s going on with you guys?”
“The helicopter!” Marty says, without elaborating, as though that would be sufficient to trigger an explanation.
“I don”t follow you, Marty. What about the helicopter?”
“He doesn”t know!” I whisper to Will. Will extends his arm and Marty hands over the phone.
“Hey, dude!” Will says.
“Hey, big man!” comes the reply. “What”s got into the two short guys?”
Will stifles a laugh and points to Marty”s crotch and mine. I give him the finger, and give it to the phone as well.
Will, ever the conversation saver, explains about the headline, the photo, the registration letters and the reported deaths, together with our concern that it had been him, Uncle Bill and Helen O”Sullivan.
There is a moment of silence and Ash responds, “I don”t know anything about a crash. We”re all fine. When we got back to Cunnamulla, we had a coffee with Bill”s friend and your dad returned the keys to him. Helen took the council”s SUV that she had parked there yesterday morning and left. Bill and I flew back here to the Gold Coast in the Lear jet. He dropped me off at my place and I”ve just had a nice hot shower.
While Will and Ash are talking, the subject of the curse, and its target, re-surfaces in my mind. `…the discoverer himself… or one of his relatives… or close friends…” I wonder whether the owner of the helicopter fits into the category of `close friend”!
“Tom tried to call Dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Twice,” Will states, implying, but not asking for any known explanation.
“Yeah, well, he”s told me that he often switches it off in the afternoon until after dinner,” Ash says, then adds, “unless he”s `entertaining”, then it”s really hard to get hold of him till morning. Did Tom leave a message?”
“No,” Will replies, “but maybe he should of.”
“Should HAVE!” I correct him, just loudly enough to be heard.
“That”s what I said,” Will replies. I simply shake my head.
“Maybe Bill”s heard the news and doesn”t want to talk,” Ash comments. “If something has happened to his friend, Bill will be shattered. I recall him saying that they went to school together. He taught Bill to fly and helped him to get his licences. He also lets your dad fly his helicopter and some other aircraft in order to keep up the log of flying hours to maintain his licences. And, he taught your dad a lot about business and making money, and he introduced him to a lot of influential people.”
Well, by its own conditions, it seems as though the curse could have claimed another victim!
I motion that I want my phone back. Will hands it over.
“OK. We”re gonna go, Ash. If you talk to our Dad, please ask him to call us whenever he can,” I tell him.
We all say goodbye and Marty adds, “When are you coming back?” There is an air of positive expectancy in his voice.
“Not soon enough!” Ash jokes.
Goodbyes are expressed all around again and I press the disconnect ordu escort icon.
“Another coffee?” Will asks, looking to Marty and me.
“I need something stronger!” Marty tells him. “Will you join me, Tom? And how about you, `big man”?” he asks Will, emphasising Ash”s words. “You want to join your `short cousin” and `short brother” in a can of beer?”
Will smiles. “Nah. But thanks for asking. Coffee”s enough for me.” Then he adds, “Ash does have an impressive one though, doesn”t he?”
Marty”s and Will”s comment have lightened the mood, and I respect Will”s refusal of the alcohol, given his mother”s history.
I, on the other hand, decide to join Marty. “I”ll have one to celebrate them being safe, Marty, but that”s all,” I tell him. “I wouldn”t want you to think that you can get me drunk and then strip me naked… again.”
Will”s face instantly takes on a look of dismay, with a tinge of anger, so over the next few minutes I explain what happened when I first arrived here. All innocent… I think.
He laughs, then shocks me with, “Hey, maybe we can do that to Ash when he comes back! Wouldn”t that be fun?”
Marty looks at me and raises a conspiratorial eyebrow. I know what”s in his mind and I nod. Then it”s Will who gets laid on the floor and stripped naked! He doesn”t seem to offer much resistance. Getting him off for the second time in as many hours is a light-hearted and welcome release from the tension of the moment, for all of us.
However, Marty keeps shifting the bulge in his jeans and now I”m really horny too. He looks at me. “Bathroom?” he asks expectantly.
“Yep!” I reply, adjusting my aching confinement, knowing exactly what he”s suggesting. We leave Will on the floor, without a towel or tissues, to deal with the puddle on his chest and stomach.
“Hey!” he protests. We ignore him amid our peal of `serves you right” laughter.
Marty and I stand at the edge of the bath, pants around our ankles and delight in alternating between relieving our own, and each other”s tension.
At the moment of impending ecstasies, broadcast by our moans and groans, a third body pushes between us. Grasping one cock in each of his hands, he finishes us both off, almost simultaneously. I suddenly imagine Kurt”s hand being on me instead of Will”s, and my second, thick ejaculate reaches the wall beyond the bath and begins a slow, gravity-induced descent.
I think that I could be headed for big trouble in future – mentally, emotionally and even legally. The kid”s only 13 but it seems that he wants to `play” even more than I do.
“Looks like you”re on cleaning duty!” Marty jokes to me, pointing to my befoulment of the wall.
“It was worth it,” I tell him. “All good fun!”
Toilet paper cleans up both the running wall and my dripping cock. Then I tell Will, “You need a shower, bro!”
He swats my bare backside and complains, “Yeah, thanks to you two.”
“Hey, you loved it. I could tell by how much of a struggle you didn”t put up.” Marty tells him. “Don”t worry, we”ll serve dinner while you”re cleaning up.” Then he adds, “If it”s not already charcoaled by now.”
Will turns on the hot water. Marty and I hitch up and secure our pants and head for the kitchen.
Fears of a burnt offering are unfounded and Marty is even complimentary of the cooks. We enjoy the meal.
We are midway through doing the dishes when my phone rings. My hands are still in the sink. Will puts his tea towel down and answers it. “Dad,” he says. “How are you? We were worried.” He switches the phone to `speaker” while I dry my hands.
“I”ve had two missed calls from you, but you didn”t leave a message. Is everything OK?” he asks.
“Have you spoken with Ash?” Will inquires.
“No, not since I dropped him at home. Why?”
I”m not sure how I should break the news to him. Fortunately, Will is up to the task. “Dad,” he starts, “there”s been an accident. Have you heard anything?”
“What? Ash has had an accident?” he says, with a noticeable agitation in his voice.
“No, not Ash!” Will says.
“Who?” Uncle Bill asks, then recites a list of possibilities including me, Marty, Helen and Acacia.
“None of those, Dad,” Will informs him. He takes a deep breath and says, “The helicopter.”
“What?” Uncle Bill exclaims. Then there is a period of silence and we hear an emotional, “Sorry guys!” and he disconnects.
Few words are spoken for the next couple of minutes. We all go about finishing our tasks.
Many thoughts invade my mind.
I”ve never heard Uncle Bill upset! He”s always been a positive man. Joker? Yes. Supportive. Encouraging. Energetic. Lovable rogue! But upset? Totally out of character for the man that I know.
While I feel a sadness for him in whatever loss he may be experiencing, I am, on the other hand, overwhelmingly relieved that the curse has not claimed him or any of the people whom I know and love. And yet, I can totally understand his grief at losing a close friend. I had really felt it when I thought that it might have been him and Helen and Ash! I had a similar scare when Marty was bitten by the snake. And, again when I thought that Will had been taken by a shark. But, most of all, and most deeply, when young Andy was thought to be dead at the hands of that murderous, low-life `friend” of his mother”s.
But, thankfully, I”ve never suffered the gut-wrenching pain of actually having to bury a friend.
I ponder how families can possibly endure the suicide of a teenage son or brother? How can parents withstand the pain of the abduction, brutalisation and murder of a young child? How can God-believing people find it in their hearts to forgive the mass murderer of their closest friends, if ever? How can a man overcome the death of his loving partner from AIDS?
How can I ever adequately give support to Uncle Bill, the man who gave me life and gave me a brother and a hope for the future, in his hour of personal tragedy?
Kurt”s words of encouragement ring in my ears, `It”ll be all right, Mr Grant” and I re-live the ensuing wave of peace that washed over me from his hug in my distress. I want to hug Uncle Bill. I wonder who is there to offer him the same comfort and solace. I understand his inability to speak right now.
I need to text him,
I feel my body tremble.
What day is it? I can”t even think straight. Umm… school resumed on Monday. Uncle Bill, Ash and Helen came on Tuesday and stayed the night, last night. Today must be Wednesday, when. I saw Ash”s naked, cute arse and flagpole. More than saw it! LOL.
Today the J curse appears to have been activated and claimed another victim – Uncle Bill”s close school friend and mentor.
And today I sucked on Kurt”s handsome young cock for the first time, and blew a load in my pants for the first time since… ever!
Marty likes Ash.
Did Uncle Bill have sex with Acacia?
What will I say to Jake and Will when I have `that talk” with them about relationships? Saturday? My first horse riding lesson! How sore will my arse be? Is Will going to have to settle for a blow job! And will he also be satisfied with ME spooning HIM? Maybe if Will and Jake get each other off while I”m riding and then he plays with Karl and Kurt later, he won”t be so randy on Saturday night. As if! Hey! I”m not complaining!
Will Marty share Ash with Will and me?
I feel a sharp pain on my face and hear my name being called. I blink.
Will apologises for the slap. “Sorry, bro! Where were you?”
“You scared us, mate,” Marty says. “What happened?”
“What do you mean, where was I? I was right here, thinking,” I complain, rubbing my cheek.
Marty replies, “It seemed like your body was here, but nothing else was. It was almost as though you were unconscious with your eyes open. You didn”t blink and I even shook your shoulders. I was going to slap you but Will said that he wanted to do it,” he almost chuckles.
“Oh, he did, did he?” I answer, turning my gaze upon Will”s attempted angelic face, with his heavenward-turned eyes. He is, indeed beautiful!
He falls for the oldest trick in the book! I point my finger at him and poke his chest. He looks down and I run my finger up his nose and, to finish, I strike his forehead with the butt of my palm.
We all chuckle.
“Should I ring Dad back?” Will asks.
“Give him some space,” Marty suggests. “He”ll be finding out exactly what happened. He”ll ring you when he can talk.”
There is a pause in the conversation. Where to from here? Will re-fills the jug. Coffee is always good to help pass the time. Can you overdose on caffeine?
“Marty?” I put to him. “Can I ask how Ash ended up here? In your bed! Naked!”
He looks at me, raising and lowering flirtatious eyebrows.
“Yeah. And what did you two do in bed?” Will throws in.
“Hey! At least allow me a little bit of privacy!” Marty directs at Will. Marty turns to me. “But, I will answer YOUR question, Tom.”
He says, “After you guys left the pub with Jan and the boys, we talked for a long time then, when Julie Smith began tidying up for the night, Mum invited everyone back to her place and said that I could drop them back at the pub later.
“Helen osmaniye escort looked around, obviously counting heads (6 people in an SUV that seats 5) and said that she would stay and get a good night”s sleep. We were about to leave when Jan returned and chatted with Bill and me for a few minutes, then I heard him offer to drive Helen out to Whispering Gums with him in the morning. When Helen hesitated, Bill suggested that she could go with Jan then he could fly the helicopter out there and pick up Helen and her gear later in the morning then continue on back to Cunnamulla.
“Helen wished the five of us `good night”, thanked us for our hospitality and said that she would come back to The Village once the work was ready to commence. Mum bustled everyone else out to my SUV, leaving Jan and Helen to continue talking about Whispering Gums, her father”s work, the new owners and what Jan does out there. I guess that they wouldn”t have been there long and that Jan would have gone home when Julie Smith was ready to lock up.
Hmm. That doesn”t match up with Karl”s recollection of time.
Marty continues, “Then, after enduring Mum”s almost-one-sided conversation at her place for altogether too long, I offered to take Bill and Ash back to the pub.
“Mum seemed disappointed and wanted to know even more. She said that if Bill wanted to stay and talk, then he could sleep in the cottage out the back. Bill agreed. Anna went off to bed.
“Ash and I left. When we got to the fork in the road, I switched off the engine. Ash and I talked about his job and what, exactly, he would be doing out here. Whenever he spoke to me, he would lay his hand on my arm, as if to emphasise what he was saying. I could just sense something!
“So, the next time that I answered one of his questions, I placed my hand on his thigh, just above his knee. He said nothing about it and just kept talking about the work. It wasn”t long before he started to put his hand on my thigh too instead of my arm. We both seemed pretty comfortable with that arrangement, patting each other”s thigh.
“Then I asked, `Do you really want to go back to a cold bed at the pub?””
“Why?” he asked, “Do you have a better alternative?”
“There”s half a double bed at my place,” I said to him, nervously. “It”ll be warm, but it could get pretty hot.”
“I thought someone would never ask!” he declared, lightly slapping my thigh and running his hand right up the inside of my leg, brushing the lump in my jeans, intentionally I”m sure! He added, “I actually expected to get an invitation from Will or Tom, or both, the way that they”ve both been carrying on since we first met.”
Will and I look at each other. Ash was expecting us to invite him into our bed? Expecting it? And, by the sound of it, very willing to oblige. And we didn”t! Shit!
Marty continues, “I said to him, `why should they have all the fun?” then I re-started the engine and turned left instead of right. Then I patted his thigh, a bit higher than before, and encountered the long, hard indication of his willingness to share my bed.
“I wasn”t sure whether you guys would be making your usual lot of noise so we just went into my room and closed the door. The rest, as they say, is history.
“Hey, I wouldn”t object to hearing a quick history lesson!” Will quips.
“You don”t like history!” I throw in.
“But I think that I could get to like this kind of history, by the sound of things,” he replies, directing an imploring expression at Marty.
“Sorry, chum,” Marty chuckles. “Besides, I don”t think that this history chapter is finished being written yet.”
“You like him?” I ask, sensing that last night might be the beginning of something special for Marty.
“Yep,” he answers, then adds, “I sure do!”
“What about the guy and girl in Big Town?” Will puts to him.
“They”re a lot of fun when the only alternatives are a friendly right hand or a hole in the wall of the `Men”s Room”,” Marty replies, relegating the sex with `him” and `her” to a mere enjoyable regular opportunity and convenience. He adds, “However, I think that all three options will be getting good workouts until Ash returns… especially since I have to listen to you two going at it every night!”
“We don”t do it every night!” Will protests.
Marty shoots back, “Oh, Yeah. And which night did you skip? I must have been in a coma and missed it!”
I chuckle. Marty joins me. Will”s shocked expression softens and, upon a reality reflection of our nightly escapades, generates a nervous giggle which quickly morphs into a tittering cackle of acknowledgment.
I”m happy for Marty, yet somewhat disappointed that, apparently, I could have had Ash”s body if I”d just had the courage to ask, but thrilled that I have a versatile, sexy little brother who can”t get enough of it and I”m hopeful that, with Ash hanging around Marty, there might be the odd `opportunity” for Will and me to `share”, something.
Then there”s Kurt. Will and Karl make no secret of playing with each other (at least to Kurt and to me). I don”t know what Karl”s attitude would be to his teacher mucking around with his 13-year-old twin brother, but Will has made it clear that he”s happy for something to happen and surprised that it hasn”t already, given Kurt”s fantasy about me.
Will nudges me in the ribs.
“What?” I ask.
“Just checking that you”re still with us!” he replies, cheekily. “You were starting to get that far-away, glazed look again.”
We chat for a while. I switch from beer back to coffee. Still no call from Uncle Bill!
Marty heads off to bed.
Will and I give the squeaking bed spring a real workout but try to keep the other noises down to a minimum. At least I do!
Thursday passes as `another day”. Marty, parked at the pub, comes over to the school to pick me up so that Will can spend time with the twins then drive my car home. His excuse to Marty this morning was that he”s teaching Karl and Kurt to play some of the games on his tablet. Is Marty so gullible?
Maybe not. He comments to me on the way home, “Will seems to be getting on really well with Jan”s two boys these days.”
I can”t tell whether he”s hinting at suspicions of sexual interplay between them or if he”s just commenting on Will”s change of focus from Jake to them. But, then, knowing what Will and Jake have done together, and cognisant of Will”s high libido, he must suspect something! I think that he would certainly be more forgiving of Will playing with Karl than he would be of me mucking around with Kurt. I have to be extra careful! And Kurt will have to be ultra-patient.
“He loves his computer games,” I tell Marty, hoping to steer his thoughts in that direction. “He complains that I”m no real competition for him but it seems that Karl and Kurt have taken to them very quickly – Jake less so.”
“How hard are they?” he asks. He means the computer games, but I think of Karl and Kurt and smile.
“I have the same games on my tablet,” I tell Marty. “I”ll show you, and you can tell me what you think. Maybe it”s just me!”
After an hour of concentration and frustration, Marty pants, “These are doing my head in! I think I”ll stick to cards.”
When he says that he looks me in the eye. I”m not sure what he”s thinking but I ask him, “Do you think that Ash would like to play four-handed strip poker?”
“How the hell could you tell what was going through my head? Have you become a mind reader, like Mum?” He appears happily shocked.
“Just a hunch,” I reply and smirk at him. “I”ll bet that Will would be dealing the cards even before you”ve finished asking the question!” We both laugh.
The dogs bark at the approach of my car. “Better put dinner on!” Marty comments, standing up.
I”m about to shut down the tablet when I notice that there are email notifications. I ignore others and open the one from Ash which has arrived mid-afternoon.
Will waltzes in and drops my car keys onto the corner table, instead of handing them to me as usual. What? Communal property, now, are they? His smile plus the residual chunkiness in his shorts both indicate that his fun was not computer-based. Besides, I remember that he owed Kurt a `favour” from yesterday.
“Been flogging both of them, have you?” Marty asks as he collects things from the pantry.
“Whaaat?” Will says, falteringly and giving me a filthy stare as though I had told Marty of his intention to jack off both Karl and Kurt, and of letting them do him.
“The computer games.” Marty says, busying himself. “Thrashed both guys, did you?”
Will looks at me, mouths `thank you”, then winks and smiles. He tells Marty, “Yep. Kurt once and Karl twice. One of our longer sessions. They”re getting really good at it.” Then he adds, “I did let them do me once, though. Got to encourage them, you know!”
I stare at Will and shake my head at the brazenness of his double entendre. I hope that Marty is too pre-occupied to take too much notice and to interpret Will”s comments as anything other than about playing computer games.
I text Uncle Bill. No reply.
I call Ash”s number then hand the phone to Marty. “Here, you might want to take this outside ostim escort and chat to your `roommate”. And, while you”re about it, can you see if you can find out any more about how Uncle Bill is?”
He puts the phone to his ear and walks towards the door. “No. It”s Marty,” I hear him say. “I”m just using Tom”s phone. Mine gets no reception at home here…” His voice fades as he heads outdoors.
I figure that so long as I can”t hear Marty, then he won”t be able to hear what I have to say to Will, especially with Ash in his ear. I”m about to caution Will regarding his choice of words because, one day, Marty is bound to twig to what he is actually talking about. However, Will gets in first…
“Bro,” he says, “We really need to talk… about you and Kurt.”
I”m stunned. What has Kurt told him?
“What…?” I start, feeling very nervous.
“Just shut up and listen!” he tells me. I suddenly feel as though I”m being chastised by an older brother instead of the younger version! “Kurt is really upset with you!”
“What…?” I start again.
“Don”t interrupt! This is hard enough as it is,” Will says, somewhat more emphatic than necessary, I think. “When Karl and I were playing with each other earlier, Kurt was sitting in front of us after he got his turn, and Karl suddenly stopped and asked him, `Do you and Mr Grant ever muck around?” Karl knows that Kurt has the hots for you and I”ve told you that already, haven”t I?”
“What…?” I attempt for the third time.
“And what do you think Kurt said? Wait! Don”t answer that! Just listen to me. Kurt said nothing. He just burst into tears!” Will says to me with a stern look on his face. “Karl asked him what was wrong and I reached for him, hugged him and asked whether you”d hurt him!”
My heart is pounding. Has Kurt had second thoughts about letting me suck on his cock?
“He was crying, Tom. Then, when he stopped, he said, `I think Mr Grant doesn”t like me”.”
I open my mouth to speak, but, this time, nothing at all comes out.
“Let me finish,” Will says. “Kurt told us that even though he”s tried, he can”t get you to do anything with him. He said that you told him that it would be unprofessional and illegal. That”s bullshit, Tom! He wants you to muck around with him. He needs it. I can jack him off, and so can Karl, but he wants you. Do you hear me? He wants YOU to play with him! And I know exactly how he feels because you”re the sexiest guy I”ve ever seen!” Then he adds, “Ash might come a close second, and then Sam at the motel, and then there”s Jarrod at the Games Shop. But, hey! I don”t blame him for wanting you! Especially after how we all played around, naked in the weir. If you don”t mind me mucking around with Karl, why would it bother any of us if you and Kurt had a bit of fun together? So, I”m pleading with you… please let him `get lucky” with you! Karl and I will help to ensure that it stays a secret.”
My first reaction is to be mortified at making Kurt so upset. How did he get the impression that I don”t like him? I know that I”ve told him to be careful and he seems to enjoy finding opportunities to be daringly sexy with me. Or has he reached the point of frustration with me for not responding how he wants me to?
A dozen thoughts are processed by my brain in the space of a few thumping heart beats.
Then it hits me. Kurt”s not distressed at all! It”s got to be one big smoke screen for Will”s and Karl”s benefit! He and I have a pact not to tell, and the little rascal has done a great job of throwing the dogs off the scent! But, how on earth did he make himself cry so realistically? And, believe it or not, he isn”t the one suggesting that I should play with him! The other two are virtually demanding it!
Will finally lets me say something. “This isn”t something that I”ve thought of doing!” I lie. “And I know that Kurt has been trying really hard to … seduce me … into doing something with him, but…”
“But, what?” Will asks, sour-faced.
“But I still feel bad about it. With you it was different. You were almost 17.” I suddenly realise that Kurt”s brother, Karl, might think that I”m pretty straight. Yeah, there was a bit of a romp in the weir, but that could have been just guys goofing off. Only Will knows the truth. I wonder what he has told Karl.
There is a period of silence. Will speaks up, “Tom, what if tomorrow after school, Karl and I go back to his place and let Kurt stay with you? You could pull the blinds down and muck around for a bit. Then, when you”re finished, pull up one of the blinds and Karl and I will come back and we can all leave together in the car. Nobody else will know. They won”t be able to see anything from the pub!” Then he adds, “Actually, why don”t I drive the car to Karl”s and back? That will make it even harder for anyone to see who”s coming and going.”
“I”m tempted to give it a go,” I say to Will. “But what if Kurt doesn”t want to muck around?”
“You”ve got to be bloody joking!” Will says sarcastically. “Haven”t you heard a word that I”ve said? Promise me that you”ll do something!”
I pause, as if deciding whether or not to `give in”. Haha. “OK. Just for you!” I tell him blandly, trying to disguise my enthusiasm and hoping that he doesn”t observe the tightening in my pants which would betray my true feelings.
“Not for me!” he says. “For Kurt!”
I nod my agreement.
Will hugs me, kisses my neck and whispers, “Thanks… from Kurt.”
I hear Marty”s voice. Perfect timing! He disconnects and hands me my phone. “Thanks for that,” he says. He has a goofy expression on his face. I wonder whether that”s what I look like after mucking around with Kurt, which Will has commented on … twice.
Marty adds, “Ash says hello and is really looking forward to coming back. He”s heard nothing from your dad, but said that Bill had previously spoken about his friend many times. It was he who encouraged Bill to follow his passion for photography and even supported him financially in the early years. Bill had become like one of his family, a real `pretend” uncle to his kids who have now grown up. In recent years, Bill has been able to return many favours. Bill said that he felt closer to his friend than to his own brother.”
It runs through my mind that my Uncle Bill (my genetic father), while he didn”t know that he had two sons of his own, poured out his attention and love on a surrogate family. I”m a little jealous and I feel bad for Will, but, hey, Uncle Bill”s done a lot of good for a lot of people! He”s a good man.
We chat as Marty finishes cooking and the talk continues; we consume it more readily than the food. I fill Marty in on my relationship with Uncle Bill and share that I think Mum and Dad would probably know his friend too because, as teenagers, Mum said that they often did things with a group of close friends – swimming, bushwalking, ten-pin bowling, tennis, movies, parties…
Marty”s fondness for Ash becomes evident through his body language at every mention of Ash”s name. Touching his ear, mouth and chin are not as obvious as groin clutching, but when I become aware of it, I even deliberately mention Ash a few times to test, and confirm, my hypothesis!
After another bed-spring-squeaking night, Friday morning, by contrast, appears gloomy and dark. I immediately think of rain and peer out through the window but, although it”s cloudy, the ground is still dry.
After relieving my bladder, I join Marty in the kitchen and accept a pre-breakfast coffee.
“Won”t be long now!” he chirps.
“What?” I ask. “For breakfast, or until Ash returns?” Cheeky of me, eh?
He touches his nose with one hand and points to me with the other, as if to say, `Spot on!” However, he tells me, “No… until the rains come. Maybe not today, but soon.”
I recall our previous discussion about rain. While I hope, for the sake of these wonderful country folk, that rain will bring them relief from the drought, I really don”t want the building project to be delayed, although, I guess, that”s probably inevitable!
I am subjected to more country-babble about weather patterns, most of which I don”t hear as the anticipation of two things permeate my mind – my first horse riding lesson with Reg tomorrow, and, foremost, my alone-time with Kurt today. I allow myself to mentally visualise exactly what I will say to him and what we will do together. I feel stirrings of arousal. And, being naked, it”s not what I want Marty to see.
I”m aware of the shower running although I don”t recall hearing Will turn it on.
My phone rings in the bedroom. I jump at the suddenness of it. Finally! Uncle Bill.
I hurry to answer it before it rings out, savouring a glimpse of Will”s wet, defined musculature as I pass the bathroom door.
Looking at the screen, I see that it”s not from the person I was expecting and immediately wonder what the reason is for the call.
I answer, “Hi Mum. How are you? What”s up?”
(to be continued)
There is a parallel version to this story, told through the eyes of Kurt.
Find it at https://www.//gay/adult-youth/kurt-series/
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