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Cornish Tales and Piskey Tails.

 

By John Teller.

 

Part three.

 

Zachary Blair says...

Tell me about the way you feel about me? How can Freddie understand, and even if he can, how, if I tell him that I want him sexually, can he accept what I feel about him? I can tell him that I love him, and that he's the boy of my dreams. I can even mention that when I was sheltering him from the rollers, which couldn't possibly have registered in his young mind at that age, I did touch him inappropriately, and he might accept that without too much fuss. But I can't tell him that I desire his beautiful young body completely. He said he was poorly when we parted. How poorly? Surely not the same deep sense of loss I felt but couldn't resolve because nothing could ever come from the situation of an eighteen year old being in love with an eight year old. That's what's puzzling me now, and I can't think of an answer that will say anything other than I wanted him sexually when he was a little boy, and still want him that way now. And that's why I take a deep draw of the cigarette, and then cough and splutter to divert attention from his question.

 

It works, because Freddie begins to laugh, and says, "Are you alright?"

 

I get my breath back, look at the cigarette, and fling it into the water. Only then do I giggle and get up and walk to the edge of the rock and dive into the dark depths of the ocean. The cold sends a shock wave right through my body, and when I surface and flick the hair from my eyes, I gasp, and shout to Freddie, "Oh my God! It's freezing!"

 

Freddie comes to the edge of the rock, stands there with a massive grin on his face, and then dives into the ocean. Like me, he comes up spluttering, and yells, "Oh, fuck! My balls have disappeared!"

 

I stare at him, and then burst out laughing. The shock of hearing him swear is worse than the shock of the cold water, but what do I expect from a young lad in his early teens? I'm sure that when he's here with his mates, far worse bad language than that would be echoing around the steep cliffs. But there's a subconscious message in his bad language: Freddie has grown up, and that's something I wasn't prepared for. But I've learnt a valuable lesson: Freddie is not a little boy any longer, and I'll have to treat him with more deference. Now, his question has taken on a new meaning. Somehow, even though he was small boy all those years ago, he must have detected that my feelings for him were not platonic. Could it even be remotely possible that his for me were not either? Could it be that he actually remembers what I did to him? Maybe the time we spend together today will provide the answers.

 

I swim to the edge of the rock, and climb out. Freddie does the same. Then we stand giggling and shivering for a while until he says, "Again?"

 

I laugh. "Again. Together this time."

 

Freddie grins. "Right. Let's go!"

 

And for the next fifteen minutes we have great fun diving into and swimming in the freezing ocean. Finally, we give up and retreat to our rock in the sun, and lie down, shivering until the hot sun has warmed us up. I look across at Freddie, and he looks at me. Then he reaches out a hand; I take it and clasp it tightly in my own, and I caress his hand with my thumb. Freddie does the same. Then we both lie back and let the sun warm us up, and I'm as nervous as a schoolboy on his first date.

 

********** ********** *********** *********** ***********

 

Freddie Montgomery says...

When Zac takes my hand and caresses it with his thumb, I'm so happy that I want to cry, and I struggle to hold back the emotions that are building up inside me. I'm almost in a state of shock. The conversation we've had that's revealed that we both feel the same way is the reason I'm shocked. When we set out this morning, I was hoping that I could perhaps unload and get some of these feelings out of my system so I can get on with life, but things have now taken on a whole new direction. What I've always wanted is actually happening, and I'm having difficulty believing it. It's certainly a far cry from the way I was feeling.

 

**********

 

I thought I'd got over the really, really deep love I had for Zac, but the moment he walked into the house I knew I hadn't. It hadn't helped looking at the photos his family sent to mum and dad of him touring South America, but I was managing because I'd set my mind that it was an impossible dream that would never come true. In the photographs he was just the man who had broken my heart all those years ago. Oh, yes! I may have been only a child, and maybe it was because I was only a child and so impressionable that he affected me so much. I can't remember everything, but I remember certain things, vividly, and I can never forget the feelings; the most memorable being the bad ones of losing him. I even had to go and see a counsellor. That's how bad it was. And the counsellor was right in the end when he said I would get over it. Well, almost. What he didn't realise was that I lied to him. I told him that it was James who I couldn't stop thinking about. If he'd done his job properly, he would have told mum and dad to make sure there was never any more Blair family. But they hadn't done that. Once they thought I'd forgotten about James and that the feelings had gone away, there was Zac, in their talk, and in those photographs. And to cap it all off, he's now been invited into our home for five days while he pretends to look for a job here.

 

When I first saw him walk into the house, my heart sank, I felt sick, and I wanted to scream and yell at him to get out! How dare he come back into my life again! Soon after he arrived, I made an excuse and went up to my room, lay on the bed, and cried my eyes out, and when I finished crying, I gave up all resistance to loving him again. The most important thing to me then was to see if he still felt the same way about me.

 

During the meal I tried to see what was behind the many looks he gave me. I'm sure I detected something in his eyes, but I didn't dare allow myself to get carried away. And after the meal, when we were in the lounge, he still kept giving me those looks. That's why I decided to tell him through my eyes that I still loved him when I filled his glass. But then I went one step further and showed him my body when I lay down again. Why did I do that? I did it because over the years I've tried to work out what Zac saw in me, and I wanted to tease some answers from him. I think he's gay and wants me that way. I don't know if I want him that way. In fact, the truth is that I'm so mixed up inside that I don't know what I do want anymore. But I do know that I love him so much that I might even let him do it if that's what he wants and it will bring him back to me. Yes, I am sure he's gay. I can tell by how he's been looking at my body while we've been here. I teased him again when I stood up after getting his cigarettes from the bag. He couldn't take his eyes off my body. Yes, he's definitely gay, and I reckon that what happened when he touched me there when I was little was not an accident!

 

But what now? Maybe if I can get a few beers down him, he'll answer my questions. The story about us lads bringing beer was a load of bullshit. I was plotting like mad the night before, and the moment we set out, how I could be all alone with him so I could ask him questions. And now we really are alone, I can get on with it, so I look across at him, and ask, "Fancy a beer?"

 

He grins. "I thought you'd gone to sleep. Get them out, and some sandwiches. I'm starving."

 

**********

 

Two cans he's drunk, but he won't have any more. I haven't had any; I've had Coke. I think he's pleased that I didn't have beer. I don't like beer, and I think I'd have been half pissed if I'd drunk a whole can. He's sitting up now, his arms resting on his knees, staring out at the sea, smoking a cigarette. He seems to be deep in thought. I'm lying down on my side, facing him. He's gorgeous looking; he's got a fantastic body, and I can just imagine us lying together with no clothes on, feeling secure in his warmth and love. This is really strange. I'm so mixed up that I don't know what sexual inclination I am, but I want to lie naked with him. Maybe I am gay. I honestly don't know! This is crazy!

 

**********

 

"I will tell you."

 

I look at Zac and wonder what he's on about, and ask him, "You will tell me what?"

 

He takes another draw at his cigarette. "The way I felt and still feel about you."

 

I get a small shock in my heart that makes my tummy go funny when he says that, and I say, "Thank you."

 

He looks at me. "Why are you thanking me? You might not like the way I was thinking about you when you were a little boy, and still do now."

 

I shrug my shoulders. "As I've got older, I think I've worked it out."

 

"Worked it out?"

 

"Yes. I'm not a little boy any more. I can work things out." I can't look at him, so I rub my thumb nail on the rock, and ask, "So, will you tell me how you thought about me when I was little? It's important to me."

 

Zac stares at me for a long time, and then he says, "It will probably be unpleasant to you."

 

I shrug my shoulders. "It's a question I've wanted to ask you for years, so I'll manage."

 

Zac takes another draw from his cigarette, and blows out a long stream of smoke. He coughs a little, and then stares out at the ocean again. Now I am looking at him, and it's as if he's talking to the ocean and not me when he says, "I'm ashamed of myself. I wanted to make love to an eight year old boy. I never would, of course, but just the fact that I wanted to, makes me ashamed. But Freddie was as sexy then as he is now. Well, to me he was. I adored him. I fell in love with him. I didn't want to do awful things to him, but I did want to give him pleasure. My pleasure wasn't important; I would have been happy just to give it to him, and my reward would have been to kiss and explore his little body and have it close to me. But it was impossible. It always was going to be an impossible situation. I was a fool to allow myself to become emotionally attached to him, but my worst crime was to foster affection in him. That was unforgivable." Zac turns and looks at me. "I'm sorry, Freddie, but being gay isn't a choice." He shrugs his shoulders. "But I should never have allowed myself to become attracted to a boy so young. It just isn't right. The only excuse I've got is that I wasn't mature enough to know how to refuse myself something I wanted so much." Then he looks away again, and continues, "And now I'm doing it again. You're only thirteen, Freddie."

 

I can't stop the tears forming in my eyes, and I mumble, "I am old enough now, Zac. No... I wasn't then, but I am now. And just to put your mind to rest, I think I knew back then what you wanted from me."

 

"It isn't possible, Freddie. You weren't old enough."

 

"I was, Zac. No, I didn't know what it was all about, but I did know. I think that's why I was so ill when you went. I had to go and see a counsellor, you know!"

 

Zac looks at me, and I can see the amazement in his face when he says, "A counsellor! Why on earth would they send you to see a counsellor? For Christ's sake! You were only a kid!"

 

His words make me really angry, and I snarl at him, "Fuck you! Fuck you, Zac!" Tears of anger begin to pour from my eyes, and I yell at him, "I fucking loved you and you went and fucked off and left me!" Now I begin to sob, and through my sobs, although my voice is not so loud, I can't hide the feelings when I drop my chin onto my chest, and say, "I was mad about you then, and I'm still mad about you now. So work that one out Mister Fucking Knowall!"

 

That's when I know I've gone too far, because Zac's face scrunches up, and he begins to cry. He does what I did, and drops his chin onto his chest and sobs and sobs, and I can see his shoulders shaking like mad. And then he puts his head in his hands and cries some more. I know what he's feeling like, and I can't stand him being hurt like this, so I get up and go to him. He doesn't hug me or anything, but neither does he shrug me off when I put my arms around his neck and try to comfort him. After a while, he turns his face to me, and mumbles through his tears, "I'm so sorry, Freddie. I'm so sorry. I really, really am. You're the one person in the world I'd never want to harm."

 

That reduces me to even more tears, and I push him back onto the towel on the rock and wrap myself around him. After a while, I say, "Zac, when I was ill, I said it was James. But it wasn't. Even though I was little, I knew it would be better to say it was James rather than you. And I suppose another reason was because I didn't want you to be blamed. So that's the story I stuck to, even to the counsellor. It didn't really matter, because when he was saying James's name, I was thinking you."

 

"And they still don't know to this day that it was me who made you ill?"

 

I shake my head. "No. I don't think they would have let you near me if they'd known it was you. I was really ill. I didn't go to school for almost six months."

 

Zac's hold on me intensifies, and his voice is very sad when he says, "I'm sorry I hurt you Freddie. I really am."

 

*********** ********** ********** ********** **********

 

Zachary Blair says...

The only sounds are the waves of the ocean crashing gently against the rocks and the cry of gulls echoing around the steep cliffs. Freddie's warm body is wrapped around me; his head snuggled on my shoulder and under my chin; his left arm over me; his hand clutching my shoulder and his thumb gently caressing my skin; his left leg thrown casually over me. My own left arm is under and around him, my hand caressing the gentle curves of his waist and the fabric of his swimming trunks where the soft buttocks lie below. Occasionally, I allow my hand to caress both buttocks, but only in a gentle, loving way. I've been here before, with Jaoa, but he usually had no swimming trunks on, and the crease of his bum was always available to me. But this is Freddie Montgomery and not Jaoa Cabral. The only thing they have in common, I suspect, is their ages. If we were in a really secluded place doing this, Jaoa would have got up, fitted a condom to me, lubricated it and his bum, and lowered himself onto me to have his way until the sperm flowed freely from him as my tool massaged his prostate. But Freddie won't know about such things. Well, he might know about them, but he won't be experienced in the art of male to male loving. And neither do I want him to be. In fact, sex is the last thing on my mind at the moment. Love is... and the fact that I never want to hurt Freddie again. But I'm an adult now, and Freddie is not, and Freddie is thinking sex, because he says, "Have you done this before?"

 

"Done this before? I'm not sure what you mean, Freddie."

 

"I mean, have you ever been in the same position we're in now with another boy? I mean... you know... and done stuff?"

 

I kiss his hair and want to tease him, but that might backfire on me. Freddie is an emotional boy, and to hurt his feelings would be a crime. I've done it once, and I never want to do it again. Maybe it would be best to lie and tell him that I haven't. But neither do I want to lie to him. I decide not to answer him. Instead, I ask, "Do you want to do stuff?"

 

Freddie snuggles closer. "Zac... can I tell you some things about myself?"

 

I pull him even closer. "Yes, of course you can."

 

"I'm mixed up Zac. Ever since I was poorly I've never allowed myself to think about those sorts of things. Well, not properly. You know what I mean. I think I knew you were gay, so I've tried to be gay just for you, but I don't know whether I am or not. It's been awful growing up like this. I'll even let you do all the things you want just so you'll love me."

 

I interrupt him. "Do you think I'd let you do that?"

 

"Sort of. That's what you want, isn't it?"

 

I kiss his head. "Yes, but I would never abuse you. Anyway, even though you're not sure about that, we do share something beyond gay stuff... it seems that we actually feel the same way about each other."

 

"But is that enough for you?"

 

I think carefully about Freddie's question. Will it be enough? Can I keep my hands off his gorgeousness? Even now while we're cuddling, I want to make love to him. Because he's said he'll let me, I can have him if I want to. But what would that do to us? I love Freddie so much, and I do want our loving to be complete in my way, so can it still be complete if we carry on this affair in just Freddie's way until he makes his mind up one way or another? I think I know the answer. Just lying here with him is the most beautiful thing that's happened to me in five long years. Just holding the one you love is beyond sex. God... I do love him so much! And when I answer Freddie, although I know it's going to be very difficult for me to keep my hands off him, I know I'm telling the truth when I say, "It will have to be. There's no way I want to lose you again, and if that means just holding you in my arms like this is all there's going to be, then I'll settle for that."

 

The moment I say that, Freddie bursts into tears with his head on my chest, and while I hug him very tightly and stroke his beautiful hair, he sobs and sobs and sobs until I can feel his hot tears running down my body. My poor boy! Because of how I feel, I know exactly what he's feeling, and I know the hurt of love will be deep and piercing. But that's how it is when you truly love someone. All I can do now is comfort him and assure him that the love he feels is also shared by me. It takes a while for him to regain his composure, and when he does, I lift his head and stare into his beautiful eyes. I smile at him when I say, "Will your not being sure if you're gay allow me to kiss you?"

 

He sort of grins. "No tongues?"

 

"No tongues. I promise. I just want to love you."

 

Freddie nods, slowly brings his lips to mine, and we share a few moments of gentle lip caressing before I take hold of his head firmly and kiss the tears that are running from the corners of his eyes. Then we smile at each other before I allow him to fold back into me, back into the loving caress we were sharing. After a while of being deep in our thoughts, Freddie says, "Help me to understand. If you've done this before, you'll know if it was nice for the boy or not. Well... have you done it before?"

 

Freddie's logic seems sound, and I decide to tell him the truth. "Yes. There was a boy in Brazil. He was gay, and he wanted me, and we did stuff."

 

"How old was he?"

 

"Your age."

 

"What was his name?"

 

"Jaoa Cabral."

 

"Was he nice?"

 

"He was lovely."

 

"Did you love him?"

 

"Not really. I've only ever loved one boy... you."

 

"Honest!"

 

"It's the truth, Freddie. I wouldn't tell you a lie. I wouldn't answer you before because I wouldn't lie to you. I would have preferred not to have told you about Jaoa. I thought it might hurt you if I did. Does it?"

 

Freddie snuggles closer. "A bit. But now you've told me that you didn't love him, I'm OK with it." Then he hesitates for a moment before continuing, "How did you know that Joe didn't have any diseases?"

 

I smile at the way Freddie says Jaoa's name, and I say, "It's Jaoa, and you pronounce it with a `Shh' and a `wow'. Shh – wow. Jaoa. It's difficult."

 

Freddie spends a few moments practicing the name, and then again he asks, "How did you know that Jaoa didn't have any diseases?"

 

I sigh. "There were other boys in Rio de Janeiro like him. Well, not like Jaoa. They were hustlers, and I'd never go with them. They did it for money, and there was no telling how clean they were. Jaoa was clean. He used every conceivable way of protection to keep himself from getting any diseases, so I took a chance that he didn't have any either. And then when I got home, I went to the doctors and asked for tests. I got a clean bill of health. If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here now."

 

Freddie has caught me out. "So you did think about doing stuff with me then!"

 

I chuckle inwardly, and then kiss Freddie's hair again. "Of course. I've already told you. I've wanted you since you were eight years old."

 

"That way?"

 

"God forgive me... but... yes. You've always been a sexy little sod."

 

Freddie lifts his head and stares into my eyes. "Am I still sexy?"

 

I look into his beautiful eyes for a while, and then I answer him. "Yes."

 

"As sexy as Jaoa?"

 

"Sexier than Jaoa. I didn't love Jaoa. He was just sex and some affection. I love you, and I would reckon that having sex with someone you love would be much sexier than having it with somebody you didn't."

 

"Do you want to do stuff with me now?"

 

Freddie's words send shivers through me. Of course I want to do stuff with him! I look into his eyes again. "Yes, I would like to do stuff with you Freddie, but I'm not going to."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because you're not Jaoa. You're not a casual sex encounter - you're Freddie, the boy I've loved since you were eight years old, and because of what we've just talked about, it isn't going to happen." I grin at him. "I've got five fingers and an imagination. That's what I've used for the last five years. There isn't a bed in the world where you've not been with me. I could write a book about the things I've done to you."

 

Freddie giggles. "You sexy sod!"

 

Still grinning, I shrug my shoulders at him. "That's me... Zachary Blair: Sexy Sod. Anyway, we have some important things to talk about, and haven't got time to spend all afternoon doing stuff."

 

"Such as?"

 

"Do you want me in or out of your life?"

 

"In."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Positive."

 

"Good. That's the first step. I'll be attending the job interview on Monday. If I take it, I'll probably get a place down here; a flat to rent, or something like that at first. Is that what you'd like me to do if I get the job?"

 

"And if you don't get the job?"

 

I grin at him. "I'll get the job. I didn't really need to attend the interview. I only pretended that I wanted to discuss things with the partners in the firm before making a final decision just so I could get to see you again."

 

Freddie chuckles, and then says, shyly, "You really do still love me, don't you!"

 

My face is serious now. "Freddie, I thought your eyes might have changed as you got older, but they're still exactly as I remember them. You've got the most beautiful eyes in the world." I take in the features of his face, take a long look at his slim body, and then add, "Your sexy lips are exactly the same, but bigger and more kissable. Your body is now much fuller and even more desirable. I adore every single lock of your beautiful hair. So, yes, I do love you, but now I'm in love with a young man, and not a little boy."

 

Freddie stares into my eyes, and then grins as he looks over my body. "You're not so bad yourself."

 

I wrinkle my nose at him. "Shut it, or I'll have your pants off now."

 

Before I can say or do anything, Freddie gets out of my arms, lies on his back, lifts his bum up, and pushes his swimming trunks down to his knees. "They're off."

 

I laugh at him. "Pull them up you sexy little sod!"

 

His eyes become naughty, and he slowly shakes his head. "Not until you've touched me."

 

"And why should I?"

 

He grins. "I want to give you something besides a photograph to think about when you're using your five fingers."

 

I can't help but chuckle at his naughtiness, and so I reach down, and with two fingers, pinch his flaccid penis. He gives me an angry look, so I grin, and fondle it and his soft, well-formed balls for a moment. Then I let go of him, and say, "Put it away. That's enough for the five finger exercises."

 

He pulls a face at me, giggles, turns over, and points to his bum. "And that. That's what gay men think about, isn't it?"

 

His perfect buttocks and back and thighs are soft and smooth and sensuous, and I spend quite a while caressing them while Freddie lies quietly and compliantly. And when I pat his bum sharply to signal that I'm done, he turns over to pull his swimming trunks up. That's when I see his flaccid penis is no longer flaccid. In fact, it's fully erect. He grins, pulls his trunks back up, and fits them snugly. But his erection is still hard and tenting in them. He pats it, and says, "Down Patrick!"

 

I grin at him. "Patrick?"

 

He grins. "That's what I call him."

 

"Why?"

 

He starts to laugh. "Patrick Star out of Spongebob Squarepants, because he's dumb and is always getting me in trouble."

 

And I begin to laugh, and I'm still laughing when I ask, "How come Patrick is hard when you're not gay?"

 

Freddie's face goes crimson when he grins. "Because you were feeling me up, you daft sod! I can't help it."

 

I tease him. "There's hope for you yet. This gay stuff can be very nice at times, so don't knock it until you've tried it. Shall we go for a swim to cool him off?"

 

"Not before you tell me what you call yours."

 

"I don't have a name for him. Dick?"

 

Freddie giggles. "That's not a very good name. Everybody's is called `Dick'. Do you want me to choose a name for him?"

 

I giggle. "I can't wait."

 

Freddie looks down and studies my erection, which, by now is hard and tenting in my own swimming trunks. He starts to giggle, and then says, "Squidward."

 

"Squidward? Why Squidward?"

 

"Squidward Tentacles. He's always getting Patrick in trouble."

 

I shake my head slowly. "You're one crazy guy."

 

Freddie stares into my eyes. "I know I am, but I don't care anymore now you're back."

 

I give him a warm smile. "Let's get into the sea before Squidward gets Patrick into more trouble."

 

He won't look at me when he says, "I want to kiss you on the lips again."

 

After all that's gone on, I reckon I can now tease him a bit, and I say, "Why would you want to kiss an old man on the lips?"

 

He grins, and shrugs his shoulders. "I've wanted to kiss a certain old man on the lips for years, so can I?"

 

That's when the love I have for Freddie really boils over, and I open my arms to him. He comes to me and lies on top of me, his head over mine. I caress his face with my fingers while I'm looking into his eyes, and then draw his head to me until our lips are touching. I watch his eyes close, but I keep mine open. At first his lips are firm, but then they soften and allow me to play, plucking at his lips with mine. More than the sex, this moves me deeply, and I want to crush him to me and make the kiss a passionate one, but I know that if I do, all will be lost. So I break the kiss, stare into his now open eyes, and say, "Sea! Now!"

 

Freddie giggles, gets up, goes to the edge of the rock, stands on the edge and lifts his hands up in the air, ready to dive in. Just for a moment he hesitates, silhouetted against the green of the ocean, and I marvel at his beauty. The perfect boy with perfect curves in all the right places, and then he's gone like an arrow, disappearing into the water like the sprite he is. When he surfaces, his face is alight with joy, and he yells, "My balls have disappeared!"

 

I laugh, and dive in, surfacing near him. He swims to me and treads water; I reach out and draw him closer; he puts his arms around my neck; I fold him into my arms; we kiss softly; he grins; I grin, and say, "I love you, Freddie."

 

He nods. "I know you do, and that's why I'm happier now than I've been for five years."

 

*********** *********** *********** ********** ***********

 

Freddie Montgomery says... 

As we walk hand in hand back to the car, we plan how things will go; what I'm to say, and what I'm not to say. Our loving is to be a secret, and I've got to pretend that being with Zac isn't a problem, and his being around doesn't remind me of James. That way my parents won't suspect anything. We don't want them to know, or they'll spoil things for us. Until Zac has sorted things and got his flat or whatever, we can keep in touch by email and mobile phone. I think I can get my family to be friendly with him again if I pretend I don't care about him, and that I've forgotten about James. But that's for another day. Tonight, at home, I'm going to tease him with my body. I think we can do that now we've talked about things. But not too much. I don't want to drive him crazy. Or maybe I do? When he was feeling me up, I liked it. Maybe it won't be such a sacrifice after all if I let him do things to me? Maybe I would like it if he sucked me off? That's not gay... that's just having sex with somebody I love. Like before? Oh, yes. Those memories are still very vivid: his warm body; strong hands; those wonderful fingers; the feelings. Was that the awakening? Is that what my feelings for Zac are all about? I don't know. I'm so mixed up that I just don't know. But maybe I'll now get all the answers to the puzzled thoughts in my brain. I hope so, and I'll deal with whatever happens as it happens, just so long as I don't lose his love again. I think that would be the end of me.

 

To be continued...   

 

You can find my other stories on Nifty here. If you wish to comment on this or any of my other stories, just drop me a line to JTST449@gmail.com Genuine comments will be appreciated. All flames will be extinguished in the trash bin.