Date: Thu, 14 Oct 2004 06:45:49 +0800
From: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-03

Aboriginal Farmboy 03

Author: James MacMannis <james_macmannis@hotmail.com>
Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-03 (adult-youth, interracial, rural)
Archive; 'Aboriginal Farmboy #3'{James MacMannis}(BB, interr, rural)[]
Homosexual, young male sex
Adult-youth
Interracial
Rural setting

ABORIGINAL FARMBOY - PART THREE

Copyright (c) 2004 by James MacMannis
This document may be downloaded for your personal pleasure; however, you may 
not place the document on a website or reproduce the story for distribution 
in any media whatsoever without my permission.  Please email me at 
james_macmannis@hotmail.com with constructive comments or criticism.


"It's Constantine Kouros here Mister MacMannis," a well-modulated voice 
announced on the phone when I answered.  "I'm Christos and Nickolas's older 
brother.  Are they still at your house?"  I remembered that I had given my 
address and phone details to the boys at the service station, so it was not 
a surprise that Connie knew my phone number.  I assured him they were here 
and asked if he wanted to speak to either of them.  "No, thank you.  I 
really need to speak to you, but I wanted to confirm that the boys are safe. 
  Thank you so much for the care you have taken towards our family.  I am 
looking forward to meeting you and saying this to you face to face, but for 
now the phone will have to do."  I responded that it was a privilege to have 
dealings with such a great and fine-looking family and that I was looking 
forward to meeting him too.  "Do you mind if I call you Connie - the boys 
always refer to you that way?" I asked.  "Not at all.  I wasn't really 
trying to be formal when I began this conversation, but we haven't met as 
yet and I wanted to act correctly in showing my heartfelt respect to you."  
"In that case, you must call me James."  I felt as though this was some kind 
of recording - I seemed to be going through the same scenario with each 
member of the family!

"Well, James," Connie continued, "The purpose of my call is to let you know 
I can't come home tonight.  You probably heard about the bad weather 
warnings and I am sure you have been getting the same kind of rain we have 
had here in town.  About an hour ago the police closed all the roads due to 
imminent flooding.  I did try to call you a while ago, but I could get no 
answer."  "Yes, we have been out doing some tie downs and precautions 
against the storms.  Nick got home early today for the same reasons you 
mentioned.  He has been helping Chris and myself with the work, and that is 
why you did not get anyone when you called before.  We have only just now 
come back to the house."

Connie went on to tell me that he hoped it would not be an inconvenience if 
the boys stayed at my house till the worst of the storm had passed.  He 
would be staying with a friend in town overnight and would try to get out 
tomorrow if the floodways were clear.  "Don't you worry, Connie," I assured 
him.  "I will look after the boys - more likely they will look after me - 
and don't you take any risks trying to get out here tomorrow.  If we can we 
will go over to your place in the morning to see if everything is alright.  
Then, when it is safe to do so, you are most welcome to come out to my house 
whenever you can."

We ended the call, promising to call again in the morning, and I passed on 
the news to the two boys, who by now had known the caller and guessed the 
content of the conversation.  Chris had put a pot of coffee on and he now 
poured mugs for each of us as we made our way to the sunroom.  Wet clothing 
came off in a rush and we hung trousers, shirts and coats on chairs and 
anything we could find so it would begin drying.  Naked, we huddled next to 
the fireplace and we let the warmth of the room seep in to our cold bodies.  
Chris pressed into my left side and Nick to my right.  I noticed that Nick 
was quick to check out my white skinned body and seemed to be particularly 
interested in my penis and testicles, although he did not stare at them for 
long.  We rolled cigarettes and smoked them.  The warmth of the coffee and 
the fire quickly dispelled the effects of the rough weather outside.

The storm was getting much worse.  There had been strong wind and heavy rain 
before, but now the wind was shrieking around the house and the rain was 
driving in against the windows and external doors.  The sunroom has 
full-length French doors, and through them we could see the fury of the 
storm developing.  Suddenly a loud clatter almost deafened us.  It took me a 
moment to realise that it was hailstones hitting the metal roof of the 
house.  The three of us walked over to the doors and watched as the 
countryside turned white under a heavy onslaught of small round hail.  I did 
not think there would be any damage, because it was small hail, so it was 
rather spectacular to see the quick build up of frozen rain over the valley. 
  The glass doors allowed a feeling of the cold to come into the room, 
making us very aware that the outside temperature had dropped considerably.  
We went back to the comfort of the fire.

"I guess the first practicality of the evening is to work out what we are 
going to wear," I suggested.  "The clothes we have put out to dry will be 
damp till much later in the night or even tomorrow morning.  How about we go 
and look through what is left of my nephew's clothes and try to get 
something that fits."  We went down the hall to the bedroom he uses and 
began sorting through the small amount of clothing my nephew had left there. 
  Chris immediately realised that all of the stuff was too small for him, so 
we concentrated on finding something for Nick.  A shirt and jumper fitted 
fine, but we could not find anything else but a pair of short cut-offs for 
the bottom end.  Chris jokingly grabbed Nick in the crutch with a coment 
about making sure there was enough room for him to fit, and to my amusement, 
Nick was not at all uncomfortable with the intimacy.

We went on to my bedroom where I found some clothes that were a little small 
on me and seemed to fit Chris on the loose side of comfortable.  He said he 
liked the thought of wearing my clothes, and I felt rather proud to have him 
wear some things that I could no longer fit.  I found some warm clothes for 
myself to use from my wardrobe and pulled them on.  We then headed back to 
the warmer sunroom.  All this time the noise of the hail and increasing wind 
was a constant background to our activities.  The sunroom was more exposed 
to the elements and we were quite amazed to see through the large glass 
panels how furious the storm had become.  There was enough light to see that 
everything was covered in a deep layer of hail stones, now turning into an 
icy crust.  Wind gusts had already broken some branches from trees and rain 
was being driven right up under the eaves of the house.

It was getting on to time for us to think about food.  I asked the boys if 
they had any particular dietary considerations, and they told me that they 
did not.  When I suggested grilled steaks and hot vegetables, both agreed 
that would be nice.  I thought I would add a few of Chris's eggs to the 
protein tally.  I sent the boys off to watch TV while I got on with 
preparations for dinner.

"Do you boys want a drink?  I can offer soft drinks, beer, wine or tea and 
coffee," I asked after a while.  Nick responded by asking "What will you be 
drinking, Mister James?"  "I will have a glass of red wine.  I prefer that 
as this time of night."  They both decided to join me in a red wine, so I 
asked them why when it seemed most young people go for a beer or cola 
drinks.  "Dad would usually have two glasses of red wine each night with 
dinner, and we have done the same from before he died and after.  When we 
were little boys we had little glasses."  Chris gave the explanation.  I was 
beginning to realise that so much of these boys was tied to the invisible 
presence of their father in every aspect of their lives.  He must have been 
a wonderful father to them and must have shown his love to them in 
everything he did.  I regretted deeply that I had not maintained my earlier 
friendship with Nick senior.

The wine poured, we sat together while the food cooked, the weather got 
progressively worse, and the TV announcer made the best of another one of 
those ridiculous live shows offering a fortune for the persons who got the 
correct answers to a series of questions.  We smoked and Nick was quite 
content to watch the show and pre-empt most of the answers correctly.  A 
news flash at one point told us that unprecedented rains and dangerous 
thunderstorms were forecast for the night and that already the emergency 
services were being deployed to attend to numerous domestic situations 
arising from the heavy weather.

Dinner turned out to be quite a success, even though I was expecting the 
electrical power to drop out at any time with the increasing severity of 
winds.  I do use bottled propane for my cooking range, so electrical failure 
would not have stopped the cooking, but it would have meant no more light or 
TV.  It is not uncommon for the power to drop out in late winter storms 
because the power feeders cross over higher ridges in some fairly exposed 
places that seem to attract either lightning strikes or line short-outs.  
Sure enough, just as we had finished washing the dishes, the power went out.

In the silence following the death of the TV the din of the storm slinked 
in.  It was now evident that we would be in for a wild night.  I found a 
torch so I could go downstairs to start my backup generator.  There is an 
internal staircase to the under level of the house and I accessed the 
gen-set that way.  The backup system would not give us total power, just 
enough to provide basic low-power lighting and a radio.  I returned upstairs 
when the generator was running.

There was little we could do in the way of entertainment, and, quite 
frankly, with the clamour and chaos of the storm, we could barely 
communicate with each other.  The night was noticeably colder and the 
temperature seemed to be dropping faster than we could keep wood piled onto 
the fire.  I rummaged in a cupboard to find some warm coats for us to pull 
on against the cold.  We sat close together so that we could hear each other 
speaking over the racket.

Nick was obviously tiring after a long day with not much rest.  I suggested 
that maybe we would all like to get some sleep.  The boys quickly agreed.  I 
was not sure if Chris was so tired or just wanted the opportunity for us to 
get to bed together again.  Which bought the next problem to my mind.  I had 
no idea if Nick would be okay with Chris and I sleeping together, or even if 
Chris would openly sleep with me in front of his brother.  I was not sure 
just how to broach the subject, which could have been rather delicate.

"James and I will be sleeping together, Nick, so do you want to sleep by 
yourself or will you camp in with us?"  Chris took the matter into his own 
hands by asking the direct question.  Nick looked at his brother 
questioningly, not in shock or surprise, but as if he was unsure how to 
respond.  "Do you mean that you have already . . . uh . . . you know . . . 
slept together?" Nick stuttered.  "Yes, of course we have.  I told you that 
I love James very deeply, so it is natural we have shared ourselves.  You 
are not upset about it are you Nick?"  "No," Nick replied slowly, "I think 
it is great that you are comfortable with each other.  But you wont want me 
to sleep with you, will you.  Maybe it will be best if I sleep somewhere 
else."  Nick appeared to reach the conclusion with disappointment.  I was 
left totally bemused by the exchange and wondered just how much each of the 
brothers had been told of the new relationship that had developed between 
Chris and myself.  I also wondered how familiar they were with each other 
and how this figured in their lives.

Nick looked at me, his steely eyes clear and steady as his stare penetrated 
my heart, even in the dim light of the stove and the backup power as he 
rolled a cigarette and lit it.  I have never felt so closely inspected and 
searched as I did in those few moments.  It was as though Nick was making 
some monumental decision based upon whatever he saw in me.  "Mister James, I 
can understand why Chris would love you.  You have something special about 
you.  I know you care about us, perhaps more than anyone else has ever done, 
and you don't seem to notice that we are black kids.  It is a bit hard to 
take all this in when you live a life on the edge of a society that makes a 
pretence of accepting everyone, yet the reality is that some are accepted 
and others are not, based on their skin colour mainly.  You, Mister James, 
seem not to be like that and I feel a very deep gratitude and appreciation 
of you.  Perhaps more than anything else I feel that you are a trusting and 
trustable person, and I value you that highly.  If Chris says that he feels 
love for you, I really do understand it, because I think that I feel the 
same."

I felt somewhat overwhelmed from having such a strong pronouncement made 
about me from a person sitting no more than a metre from me and penetrating 
me with the most fixed gaze.  Nick is also such an attractive person, about 
how I could have imagined Chris to look at his age.  Chris was siting 
silently throughout this intense dialogue, in my peripheral vision I could 
make out his downcast head.  It was as though he was being assessed by his 
younger sibling in every way as much as I had been.  His only movement was 
to occasionally draw on his cigarette.  It seemed appropriate that I should 
say something in answer to Nick's assertion, but I was afraid to say 
anything hastily, knowing that he would weigh every word I uttered.

The rain lashed at the windows as an increased level of activity brought the 
storm back into our condensed world.  I reached over and took Nick's right 
hand in mine - he was still holding a cigarette in the other.  "Nick, I 
don't know if I really live up to the great expectation you have put on me 
and I am sure that I am not worthy of the review you have made of me, but I 
do know that what you see is what you get.  I am me, and I have known from 
that moment we first met at the petrol station that there was something 
about you boys that would weld us together somehow.  I did not know then 
that I would come to feel love for Chris, but it has happened.  Nick, I love 
you too, but in a different way.  That doesn't mean I love you less, because 
it would be impossible for that to be the case, but the expression of my 
love to you will be different to my expression of love to Chris.  I think, 
even though I have never met him, that I will love Connie, too.  Chris may 
have told you that I once knew your father when we were both very much 
younger, so in one way or another you and your brothers and I have been tied 
together from before you were born.  Nick, I want you to sleep with Chris 
and I tonight.  We will not do anything that will offend you and I will not 
expect anything of you except your company in my bed.  It that okay with 
you?"

Nick sucked the last little bit from his smoke before butting it out.  He 
reached out and took my other hand, clasping me firmly as he said, "I will 
be honoured to sleep with you.  Thank you, Mister James."  He leant the 
short distance between us and kissed me lovingly on the mouth.  Chris leant 
into this warm embrace and hugged the two of us tightly as he added his 
approval to the settlement that had been reached between us.

I led the boys down to my bedroom and asked if they wanted to shower before 
bed.  Nick immediately accepted the idea and, taking a towel from the 
cupboard, began adjusting the water for his shower.  When the temperature 
was to his liking, he shucked off his coat, shirt and trousers and climbed 
into the shower.  Chris took hold of me and embraced me strongly.  "Thank 
you for loving my brother, James.  He is a wonderful kid and he means the 
world to me.  I am so amazed that you will share the love we have with him." 
  Chris's voice seemed to catch in his throat as he stopped talking.  As he 
kissed me deeply I could see little tears in his eyes until those in my own 
eyes obscured them.  We clung on to each other in the dark room, enjoying 
each second of the other being there, listening to the raging storm and 
acutely aware that a young boy was showering a few metres from where we 
stood.

When Nick finished his shower, Chris got in to scrub up.  "Do you want to 
wear some pyjamas, Nick?  I have some that will be a loose fit on you, but 
you are welcome to them if you like."  "I have not ever worn pyjamas, Mister 
James, but, if you want me to, I will wear them.  Do you wear pyjamas?"  He 
asked.  I told him that I did not and I didn't really want him to wear them 
either.  I handed Nick his coat and pointed him in the direction of the 
kitchen so he could make some hot chocolate for us before we went to bed.  
He wore nothing else but the coat, draped over his shoulders and not 
fastened up, but it was sufficient to keep the cold away.  His muscular legs 
and firmly rounded buttocks were an enticing sight as he walked into the 
kitchen and began making preparations.  Chris emerged from the shower, so I 
decided to make my ablutions.  Once I had finished I found the boys sitting 
in the sun deck, Nick still with the coat on his shoulders and Chris 
completely naked despite the chill.  They were close to the fireplace.  I 
had grabbed a bathrobe and pulled it around me because of the cold.  Nick 
had arranged the mugs of steaming chocolate on a coffee table and, when I 
came in, stood to pass the mugs around for each of us.

The firelight flickered colourful shadows across the bodies of these two 
boys, their dark skin glowing in the crimson light.  I could hardly believe 
that I had these two young men in my own house - one whom I loved as my own 
flesh, the other as a son.  Yet their sensual bodies also stirred up other 
feelings in my body.  Without realising it, my penis began to swell as I 
feasted on the remarkable sight before me.  I was not at all sure how to act 
in front of Nick.  It seemed he was fairly relaxed about my relationship 
with Chris and he certainly had no inhibitions about being naked in my 
presence, but there had not been any indication of his own sexual drive or 
his reaction to male sexuality.  I was feeling a little embarrassed, and 
Chris must have caught the drift of it because he gracefully untwined his 
long legs to reveal that he was sporting a fully erect penis.  Nick, quick 
to sense the developing current of the room, was not in the least 
discomforted by this display of manliness.  In fact, it became obvious he 
was enjoying the familiarity as much as Chris and I, his own delightfully 
proportioned penis beginning to enlarge in a silent consent to the maleness 
of the moment.  He sat again by the fire.

A sudden flurry of the storm broke the hypnotic spell that was enveloping 
us.  The three of us picked up our mugs and began to sip the thick dark 
drink.  When I made a cigarette, the boys also made one each and we lit 
them.  Chris, who seemed to have a remarkable stamina, maintained his 
erection and made no attempt to conceal it.  Nick came across to me, his 
coat loosely fixed to his shoulders, leaving his groin fully open to my 
view, and sat right alongside.  His penis was not hard like that of his 
brother, but was aroused.  "Mister James, we three brothers have only ever 
had ourselves since Dad died.  We have looked after each other when we were 
sick, washed each other when we were dirty, fed each other when we were 
hungry.  All our lives we have slept together, and none of us ever wore 
clothing in the house except when it was very, very cold.  So you can 
understand that we have seen each other naked and horny and helped each 
other to enjoy some satisfaction.  Connie learnt from Dad about how to enjoy 
some sexual release.  He taught Chris and Chris taught me.  When Connie 
comes home from university, we three always sleep together.  That means we 
often wank each other or do some other things that make us feel comfortable. 
  So please do not think that I will be offended with anything you want to 
do tonight with Chris, or with me."

I was constantly amazed at the eloquent manner in which Nick spoke, the 
enticing fluidity of his voice and the manner in which he constructed his 
sentences.  At this moment I was even more amazed when he took my hand and 
placed it on his now firm penis and kissed me.  To begin with, his penis was 
not overly long or thick, but certainly a pleasure to hold.  The flesh, firm 
but responsive to my touch, developing a vitality of it's own.  It was only 
a matter of moments before Nick was aroused to full rigidity and I had in my 
hand a mans equipment, proudly jutting out from Nick's groin at least 15 cm 
and probably 10 or 12 cm in circumference.  Even in the dim light I could 
see the elegant proportion of his penis, the shaft straight and veiny but 
without any blemishes continued seamlessly into the foreskin, which gathered 
over the head into a smooth opening.  I held this amazing organ as it grew 
into full size, pumping it by squeezing my hand gently rather than stroking 
its length.  Nick had put his arm around my back and was embracing me 
tightly.

It was time for us to go to bed.  I was being stimulated more than I could 
have imagined possible with the sight of these two boys before me, one 
displaying the magnificence of his rampant tool, the other submitting 
himself to my gently gripping hand.  I suggested the boys put away the mugs 
and tidy the room for the night while I wend downstairs to turn off the 
generator.  Wood had been added to the fire and everything else had been 
done by time I returned to the kitchen.  Nick had shed his coat to hang it 
near the fire for warmth in the morning.  This time I became the disciple as 
Chris and Nick, erect penises leading the way,  took me by the hands and 
piloted me to the bedroom.

The room was dark, now that the power supply was off and the limited 
lighting extinguished.  The storm had obscured the moon, if there was one.  
Rain and wind rattled on the windows and the room was chilly.  Hands reached 
out and took my dressing gown.  It was Chris; I could feel the height of 
him.  He led me to the bed and I climbed under the thick feather doona.  I 
could barely see the movement and hear the faintest rustle of their feet as 
Chris led Nick to the right side of the bed.  Nick climbed in next to me as 
Chris made his way to the left hand side and also found his way next to me.  
We were all cold and shivering from the short excursion from the sunroom, so 
we huddled together for warmth.  Chris's hard rod was firmly prodding my 
left side and I could detect a gentler impaling where Nick was facing my 
right side.  Both boys had their arms across my chest and my own arms 
encircled a pair of beautiful, almost invisible, necks and shoulders.

The three of us in such proximity soon generated enough warmth to stave off 
the cold.  My bed, I should mention, is quite large.  I bought it in a 
closing sale at a hotel, where it had been custom made to an extraordinary 
large size about 2.5 metres square.  It had never been installed at the 
hotel, the liquidation occurring before the place could actually begin 
business, so it was absolutely new when I relocated it to my house.  It had 
taken some searching to find bed linen and a doona to fit it, but it was 
worth the effort.  It was a most comfortable bed.  Tonight was the first 
time it had accommodated more than one person, and I was all the more 
thankful for the extra size because it meant none of us were crammed 
together for any other reason than our own choice.

Chris moved his hand so that he could hold Nick's.  At first I thought this 
was a brotherly sharing of affection, but I was surprised when Chris guided 
Nick's hand down my body until he was confronted with my erect penis.  Chris 
left Nick's hand and returned his own hand to embracing my chest.  Nuzzling 
his head a little further into my shoulder, Nick whispered "Is it okay with 
you, Mister James?"  I nodded, knowing that he would feel the movement of my 
head.  His hand took hold of my rigid pole, exploring it for the first time, 
working his way slowly and gently to the tip of my glans.  Gently and slowly 
he eased back a little of the foreskin, and I could feel him trace the slit 
where my pre-cum oozed.  I tingled when he massaged this fluid into the 
sensitive parts on the underside.  He moved on over my foreskin and along 
the full extent of the shaft until he encountered my pubic hairs.  
Continuing on he delved into my sac area and felt each of the tightening 
balls.  All this time, Chris was holding me in a tight hug, gently kissing 
me on the other side of my neck and slowly working his own penis in a 
rhythmical grind against the side of my hips facing him.  Nick had grown 
from firmness to a rigid erection that now ground into my other side.  From 
both boys I could feel the slipperiness of their pre-cum on my skin as their 
penises milled into me.

Without warning I was immediately very concerned at the implications of 
having an underage boy in my bed.  I could not way why this had not entered 
my reasoning before now, and the battle for what was deemed right by society 
and what my own body was currently enjoying raged in my head.  It was very 
obvious that Nick was no newcomer to exploration of the male body; he had 
told me that he had done so with his brothers.  It was equally obvious from 
his erection, now making itself very obvious in its animated state, that he 
was enjoying the experience of being with me.  Furthermore, his older 
brother, my new lover, was an accomplice in this situation, giving his 
consent by means of the introduction and passive acceptance of it.  But in 
my mind thundered the dilemma of what I should morally do about having a 14, 
almost 15 year old, boy in my bed performing any kind of sexual act.  
Another complication that I could not resolve was how to handle Nick if I 
should refuse him - would it be more difficult for him?  He was not, after 
all is said and done, a physical child.  He was very well developed, 
particularly for his age, and he had made his own choice about coming to my 
bed.  Whichever way I looked at the problem, I could not get hold of a ready 
solution.  My rampant dick and my lusty head knew what they wanted, but my 
heart quivered with indecision.

A dazzling lightning strike followed instantly by a tremendous crash of 
thunder brought us all out of the steamy situation we had been enjoying.  
Leaping flames suddenly lit the windowpanes.  My mind wrestling was 
temporarily reprieved.  The three of us scrambled from the bed to see what 
had happened.  Outside the house was an eerie scene, my workshops lit by the 
brilliance of a tree on fire.  From this distance it looked like the 
lightning strike had hit one of the beautiful 150-year-old eucalypts that 
stood in a loose cluster a short distance from the workshop shed.  The wind 
was whipping the flame into a furious fire, despite the wood being green and 
despite the drenching rains.

I ran to the sunroom where I quickly put on my drying work clothes.  The 
boys were right behind me and did likewise.  I grabbed a large torch and 
together we ran out into the storm.  As we got closer to the fire I was 
amazed to see the extent of the damage.  The tree, perhaps 15 or 20 metres 
tall and 6 or 8 metres around the trunk, looked for all the world like it 
had been dynamited!  The whole tree was on the ground in various pieces and 
a smoking hole gaped where it had once stood.  The major parts of the trunk 
were splintered and seriously on fire, the flames whipping into the branches 
and canopy of the tree, igniting them as they reached their burning 
temperatures.  My concern was that the flames would soon reach the workshop.

"Do what you can to move some of those branches," I yelled at the boys, 
indicating some smaller branches right near the workshop wall.  "I am going 
to get the tractor out to push the tree away from here."  The boys knew the 
danger of fire, having grown up in these wooded hills, and immediately set 
to the task, the tough skin of their bare feet impervious to the embers and 
burning twigs scattered on the ground.  I ran into the shed and hoped the 
tractor battery would not let me down as I began winding the starter.  On 
the fourth try the diesel motor roared into life and I hit the lights to 
illuminate the area where I wanted to work.  The prevailing weather 
generally comes from the west or northwest, so, like most sheds in the south 
of Western Australia, mine did not have doors on the eastern side.  I always 
park my machinery facing out, so I was able to drive the tractor straight 
out of the shed.  The brunt of the storm hit me as I cleared the protection 
of the building, as did the heat of the fire when I came suddenly on it.  
The boys saw me coming and moved back out of the way as I lowered the 
hydraulics to put the loader bucket into position and began pushing the 
heavy timber away from the building.

It was obvious I could not move the tree in one piece.  My tractor wheels 
spun in the wet dirt when the load was taken up, even though I had engaged 
the 4WD system.  The timber was massive and would have needed a bulldozer to 
shift it as one.  Chris could see the problem and he ran out into the lights 
of the tractor to point out to me where the tree had fractured when it 
landed.  The first place he indicated was away from the worst of the fire, 
but as he moved to point out the second fracture, a freak gust of wind blew 
the flames over him.  He reeled away from the fire, seemingly disoriented.  
Nick, who was very close by, took his brother back to the side of the shed.  
I was about to climb out of the tractor to give him assistance when both the 
boys waved to indicate Chris was alright for the moment and I should 
continue with the fire fighting.  I attacked the tree at the hottest part 
first, aiming at the second fracture Chris had indicated, and slowly pushed 
the flaming trunk and branches away from the rest of the tangled mess.

There was a cleared paddock about 50 metres away from the workshop, so I 
pushed the burning tree straight down the driveway into that open land where 
it could do little damage.  Returning to the workshop I aimed at the other 
point and separated that part of the tree.  It was now burning strongly, so 
I pushed it down to the other part in the clear land and let them burn 
together.  The final section was smouldering and did not seem to be actually 
burning, but I pushed that out to join the others as well.  Looking around 
the workshop area I could not see anything else on fire, so I took the 
tractor back to the shed to see how Chris was.

Nick had taken Chris inside the workshop out of the worst of the storm.  He 
was sitting with his hands over his head and I feared that some terrible 
thing had happened.  Racing up to him I gasped "Chris, are you okay?"  With 
a laugh, he pulled his hands away and looked up at me.  "The bloody fire 
burnt my hair off!  Look at me!"  Chris was almost bald.  There did not 
appear to be any other damage.  I don't know if it was relief or the sheer 
comedy of seeing him like that, but I burst into laughter as well.  "Nick 
and I can clean up anything else here."  I told Chris.  "How about you go 
over to the house and put on the generator so we have some light.  Do you 
know how to turn it on?"  Chris assured me he knew how to operate it, and he 
left with instructions to shower and then put on some coffee.

Lightning and thunder became a part of the air we breathed as the storm 
dealt out its severity.  Nick and I went back into the storm and cleared 
away some of the worst debris.  There was not a lot that needed moving while 
the storm was still reaching its peak and we agreed we would do a better 
clean up in the morning.  The main parts of the tree were wildly burning 
down in the paddock, so Nick hoisted himself up into the tractor cab with me 
and we drove back into the workshop.  There was not a lot of room in the 
cab, it was really only built for one person, so Nick was very close to me, 
the soles of his tough dirty feet brushing on my insteps. Once I had shut 
the machine down I sat quietly with Nick.  "Nick, I loved what we were doing 
before, but I am scared to continue it.  You are still legally a child.  I 
would not want you to ever have to blame me for doing something that you 
might regret later in life.  It is a very new experience for me, as I have 
not ever been with someone so young as you.  My nephew is your age, but he 
and I have never had any kind of sexual experience.  So, Nick, I just have 
to say that I don't know what to do."  I babbled like a nervous teenager.

The teenager in Nick never seemed to appear, and in this case he showed once 
again the maturity that seemed to ride on his shoulders so naturally.  
"Mister James, I have never been with anybody other than my brothers before 
tonight.  Sure, I have mucked around with other boys at school, but that is 
not the same thing.  I have felt something with you that seems so natural 
and so right for us to do, and I don't even know really what it is that we 
are going to do.  I have never felt like I felt tonight when I was touching 
you.  I want to do some more.  Please, Mister James, you must understand 
that I love you.  Whatever we do is going to be special between us.  I do 
not want you to be confused about me or Chris or Connie.  We love you very 
much because you seem to love us.  Can you please accept that?"

I looked to where Nick sat beside me.  Neither of us could see each other in 
the darkness, the flames of the fire were not sending their light into the 
shed.  I was glad Nick could not see the little tears running down my face 
because I would have felt embarrassed if he had.  All of a sudden he was in 
my arms, holding me and crying.  He craned his head up to me and kissed my 
cheeks, feeling the wetness that I had been trying to hide.  "Mister James," 
he sobbed, "I didn't know my father much before he died.  I never knew my 
mother.  But I do know you and I want to love you in place of them.  Maybe I 
love you differently than that, I don't know, but what I feel comes from 
deep in my heart.  Please love me too."

"Nick, my love," I softly replied.  "I do love you and Chris - so much that 
I can't hold it inside me.  I hope that I will feel the same about Connie 
when I meet him.  You are very beautiful and precious boys to me.  And I 
will love you as much if we do things together or if we don't.  Please do 
not ever mix up the fact that love is much deeper than emotion or an 
expression of it, like sex.  Can I ask you, Nick, to be totally honest with 
me in everything that we do?  Can I also ask you to accept my promise that I 
will be totally honest with you in everything that we do?  These things are 
so important for us if we are to be like a family and if we are to let our 
love grow."

Nick quietened as he absorbed the things I had said.  I felt his breathing 
return to normal and his sobbing cease.  He reached up a hand and wiped away 
the tears from my face, then did the same for his own.  His small mouth 
reached mine and he planted there a tender kiss.  "Your promise to me is a 
treasure I will always hold.  If it is possible for me to keep the promise 
you want from me I would gladly give it to you, but I don't know if I am 
that strong.  I don't mean I will not be honest to you, Mister James, but I 
just don't always know how big that promise is.  I will make it to the best 
of my ability.  And I will live it with my whole being.  I hope that will be 
good enough for you."  "Yes, Nick, it will, because your answer has shown 
more honesty than I could ever expect.  Thank you."

We kissed again, then climbed out of the tractor to make our way back to the 
house.