Date: Sun, 9 Feb 2014 16:00:22 +0000
From: Spasm Two <spasm2@hotmail.com>
Subject: Hugo Chapter 6

Chapter 6: mother knows best?

	Despite having dropped off so easily, I slept fitfully that night,
I guess it had been too emotionally complicated a day to expect anything
else from my confused brain. It had also turned rather wet and windy; one
of those fierce and abrupt thunderstorms that are a common feature of the
summer. To cap it all the thunder claps were making all the windows rattle,
which probably didn't help me to sleep. At some point in the wee small
hours I woke with a start, thinking I'd heard a crash from somewhere
downstairs, and hauled myself blearily out of my bed to see what had
happened. In the gloom I couldn't see very much at all and I didn't want to
put all the lights on and blind myself, so I confined myself to checking
that I'd shut the kitchen door properly (mostly because I didn't want the
house filled with the marauding and permanently hungry farm cats).

	Once I'd established that my house was secure, I stopped for a pee
then crawled back into my warm and inviting bed, dropping into a deep
slumber almost immediately. I rarely remember what I've dreamed about, but
on this occasion I had a very vivid and hyper-real dream about Hugo and I;
we were sitting snuggled up together on my couch; an old black and white
movie playing on the TV. I was dressed only in my favourite pink Hom thong,
and Hugo was resting in my lap wearing the same pair of white mini briefs
that he'd just modelled for me. My arms were wrapped companionably around
the boy's slender figure, finger tips of one hand resting gently on the
waistband of his pants. We didn't speak, content enough to be enjoying the
comfortable warmth of our naked skins pressing together, as we watched the
film (it should have been Psycho, but as is so often the nature of dreams,
that detail seemed to be a bit blurred).

	I became very aware that Hugo's cute cotton covered bottom was
pressing lightly against my groin, and that my cock was reacting in the
only way it knew. The boy wriggled his rump with pleasure as he noticed my
erection swelling between his cheeks, and my fingertips sensed the swift
growth of his organ, the tip thrusting at the waistband of his briefs. 'Do
you realise we've never even kissed,' I murmured throatily.

	Rather than reply, the boy turned his head, his hair brushing
across my face, and clamped his lips to mine, his tongue forcing its way
sinuously past my teeth. He twisted his whole body round to give our kiss
his complete attention, his erection pressing hard against mine. As I found
myself with an unoccupied hand, I gently stroked the pert globes of his
taut behind, relishing the sensation of the soft fabric slipping over his
warm skin.

	'Mmm, that's lovely,' the boy purred, momentarily coming up for
air.

	I slipped my hand down under his waistband, sending a questing
finger to explore the sensitive skin around his hole, at the same moment I
felt his small hand confidently grasping my cock through the silky material
of my thong. I could sense that I was already haemorrhaging pre-cum as he
slowly ran his fingers along its length.

	'Would you like to put it inside me?' he asked quietly.

	'Oh yes please,' I breathed. In one simultaneous movement, Hugo
pulled my erection free of the thong and I pulled his white pants to one
side. He raised himself up on his knees, then carefully lowered himself
onto me, using a hand to guide the tip of my cock to his pleasure hole. He
was a virgin, his hole was tight and lubricated only by my slippery
pre-cum, but his body weight overcame the initial resistance and my length
slipped reluctantly into him. Hugo moaned with pain and pleasure as my cock
penetrated his peachy bottom. His rigid shaft, freed from the confinement
of his briefs, was pointing up my chest, foreskin pulled right back and the
tip red and slippery with his pre-cum. 'You look almost ready to come', I
smiled, reaching out to take hold of him.

	'Mmm, I rather think I am,' he grinned, and leaned back, still
impaled on the length of my rod; 'how about you, are you going to come
inside me?'

	Until that moment I hadn't been, but as soon as he spoke I could
feel the urge building up, urgently I wanked the boy's cock and was swiftly
rewarded by the monster gush of his sperm spattering up my chest, and the
overwhelming sensation that I was about to spray my spunk into his hole.

	It was at this instant that I woke up, abruptly realising that this
had been a dream and I was about to come in my pants. I sat up in bed, and
put my feet on the floor being very careful not to touch my cock until the
threat of orgasm diminished. I hadn't had a wet dream for years, clearly
Hugo was getting to me in a way that I hadn't anticipated.

	Outside my bedroom window the rain was still thrumming down, and
there was no sign of the sunrise yet, 'Oh well,' I thought, 'that'll make
the farmer happy, it's all been looking a bit parched lately.' I drank a
bit from my water glass and got back into my bed, hoping that sleep hadn't
eluded me for the rest of the night. The gentle pattering of the rain on my
window lulled me back into slumber, and as I drifted off I wondered if I
could start all over again and spend some more of my dream time cuddling
with Hugo on my couch. You can't go back into a dream, however much you
might want to, but on this occasion I think I might have been determined
enough to manage something. By the time the watery sunlight and the dawn
barrage woke me from the depths of sleep, it had faded away, leaving my
fuddled mind convinced that I still had the boy snuggled up against my
back, an arm draped possessively across my chest.

	Hang on, just a second here, my mind was refusing to accept the
physical reality; I looked down, unless I'd suddenly grown an extra hand I
really wasn't on my own. Very, very carefully, I twisted around; no, I
wasn't wrong, at the other end of the arm was a small, soundly sleeping
figure, his tousled hair spread out across on the pillow, and a sweet,
slightly smug smile on his face. 'Fuck,' I thought in panic, 'what's going
on here, I know they say be careful what you wish for, but no-one expects
it to be delivered into their bed.' Surreptitiously I checked to see if I
still had my thong on, and was relieved to discover that I did, and there
was no sticky evidence that I had come, so that part of the night really
had been a dream. Gently I slipped out from under his arm, allowing me to
sit up and shift to the side of the bed, he didn't wake, just grumbled
quietly and curled up a little tighter.

	There was no going back to bed then, I realised, and mindful of
Hugo's earlier instruction I didn't attempt to move quietly as I went down
to the kitchen and put the kettle on to make coffee. Just inside the door
was a small, sopping wet heap of clothes, and my tripod and a camera case
had been carefully placed on the countertop. All my dish towels were
scattered around the room, so I guess he really had been pretty soaked. As
the coffee brewed, and my brain began to tick over, in anticipation of the
caffeine hit, I began to try and work out what I thought had
happened. Rather than progress too far down that introspective route, I
poured out two mugs of coffee and put them on a tray with a plate of
chocolate digestives before heading back up to my bedroom.

	By now the sun had risen and a golden yellow shaft of light was
playing across the bed, Hugo hadn't moved since I'd got up, and didn't stir
when I sat down cross legged alongside him. I picked up one of the mugs of
coffee and wafted it at him, blowing a jet of vapour in his direction. I
watched enchanted as his nose twitched, the scent of the coffee triggering
some sort of automatic response, at some point enough synapses connected up
and he realised that something was going on. Eventually his eyes flickered
open, and struggled into focus, 'Morning sleepy head,' I smiled, offering
him the mug.

	The boy sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, 'Morning John,' he
said, taking the coffee from me and quickly swigging a mouthful in order to
avoid having to talk.

	There's a key concept that underlies a lot of interrogation
techniques, I choose to call it "the uncomfortable silence", a state in
which both participants know there are questions to be asked and
answered. Leave a conversational vacuum long enough and eventually someone
will attempt to fill it, it's an entirely benign technique, relying as it
does on the participants psychological need to unburden himself. I wasn't
angry with Hugo, I was thrilled to have woken up next to him, but also
quite confused, the boundary between dreaming and waking is sometimes quite
indistinct and I hadn't had nearly enough of my coffee yet.

	So, I sipped from my mug and said nothing, just smiled benignly at
the boy whenever he caught my eye, and eventually he cracked; 'Sorry if I
gave you a fright this morning, I went out really early to have another go
at my shadow project, and I'd almost got there when the skies opened and I
started back. By the time I was half way I was completely soaked through,
it just didn't seem to be stopping and I thought I could dry myself off at
your place.'

	I still said nothing, just nodded.

	Hugo continued; 'I'd stripped off all my wet clothes in the kitchen
when I heard you coming down the stairs, I must have made a noise or
something that disturbed you. I hid myself in the corner, if you'd turned
the light on, you couldn't have missed me; instead you checked the door and
went back upstairs to the toilet. I decided I couldn't lurk around in your
kitchen, nor could I face going home cold, wet, and naked; so, while you
were in the loo, I sneaked up the stairs and got into your bed, assuming
I'd be discovered, but you just climbed in and went straight back to
sleep.'

	'Well, it is quite a big bed,' I said defensively, interrupting his
flow.

	'I was still feeling a bit cold and damp, so I just curled up where
I was and dozed off. I only woke up when you started talking.'

	'Did I, Oh god,' I blushed, 'what did I say? anything
embarrassing?' I'd abandoned my theories of interrogation by now.

	'No, I don't think so, you said something about kissing, then it
sounded like you were talking to someone, and then suddenly you sat bolt
upright and moved to the side of the bed, but you didn't get up, you just
sat there for a couple of minutes. Then you drank some water, got back into
bed and went to sleep again. Once I'd realised the show was over, I fell
asleep too, and that's the story up to when you wakened me,'

	'So,' I said slowly, 'what's going on at home, won't your folks
notice you're missing when they get up in the morning?'

	'No, there's only me and mum at the moment, and she went straight
back to stay in grand-dads flat last night after she'd brought me home, so
she wouldn't have to fight her way through the rush hour traffic to get to
the infirmary.'

	'So where's your big brother or your dad?'

	'He's in Faliraki getting pissed with his mates, we haven't managed
to get hold of him yet, I suspect we won't, he's rubbish with mobiles,
keeps losing or breaking them. Dad's in Singapore for some sort of
meeting.'

	'So your mum left you at home on your own?' I asked.

	'Yeah, I'm not a baby, you know,' he sounded aggrieved, 'she told
me to ring her, or to come and find you or the farmer if I was worried
about anything, it's only for a night after all and it was an emergency.'

	'Yeah, and look how well it's turned out,' I scolded, although I
was secretly thrilled that I'd been given such a position of trust, even if
I hadn't been consulted about it, 'So, what are we going to do?'

	'I'm not sure, do you think you could dry my clothes?' He lifted up
the bedding, revealing that he was entirely naked, a sight that gladdened
my heart and gave a little jolt to my libido; my cock twitched in my pants,
something he was must have been aware of.

	'Sure, how long have you got?'

	'How do you mean?' he asked, 'you just need to pop them in the
tumble dryer.'

	'Nope, sorry, I don't have one, that's what the washing line is
for.'

	'Oh,' he looked crestfallen, 'I guess I'll just have to stay like
this then.'

	'Don't be daft,' I said, 'you can't go around naked all day.'

	Our eyes met, and we both started to giggle; 'what, you mean like
you do?' he spluttered eventually,

	'Do as I say, not as I do,' I said sagely, 'doesn't your mum say
that?'

	'Quite often as it happens,' he laughed, 'I guess I'll have to take
my stuff over to the house and dry it there, then. If you could lend me a t
shirt, that'll easily cover me up enough to walk back.'

	'Of course, help yourself to any of my clothes, you know where
everything is, and despite your early bath this morning I think you should
probably take a shower.'

	'Why, do I smell?' He pouted and sniffed theatrically at a naked
armpit, the light growth of hairs gleaming in the sunlight.

	'No, I don't think so,' I grinned, 'but you know what I was saying
about bed hair? You look like one of those Irish idiots on a bad day.'

	'What, Jedward,' he squeaked, 'that's not fair.'

	'Take a look,' I answered, indicating the full length mirror that
hangs on my wall.

	Hugo passed me his empty mug, and clambered out of my bed, I
admired his slender limbs and pert behind as he posed in front of my
mirror, his body outlined in a golden halo of sunlight.

	'Wow,' I said, 'that light makes you look like an angel, if I only
had my camera to hand.'

	'An angel?' he said, turning towards me, and revealing that he was
starting to get a bit stiff.

	'Yeah,' I said, suddenly dry mouthed, 'a very sexy angel with mad
hair.'

	He giggled, and the moment passed. Patting his unruly locks into
some sort of temporary order, he walked over and plonked himself down on
the bed next to me, 'ok boss, you're right, I think I should take a
shower.'

	'Well you know where it is,' I said, 'and your towel is hanging on
the back of the door.'

	'What, you're not offering to scrub my back?' he pouted.

	'Nope,' I said.

	'Oh well, if you're not co-operating you could at least come and
talk to me.'

	I rubbed a hand across my face, and realised that I was rather
bristly, 'tell you what, I'll come and have a shave while you're showering
and then you won't get lonely.'

	'Ok,' he jumped up off the bed and offered me a hand; 'come on
then.'

	We went through into the bathroom and I lathered up my face at the
sink, Hugo perched on the side of the bath watching me closely, 'haven't
you ever watched your dad shaving?' I asked, amused by this attention.

	'No, he and mum have their own bathroom, and we're not welcome in
it,' he replied.

	'You've not grown quite enough bum fluff to shave yet,' I said,
'but when you have, I'll be happy to teach you. Anyway, get your backside
into that shower, I'm nearly done here.'

	Obediently the boy stepped into my bath and turned on the water, he
rinsed his hair through and efficiently rinsed and soaped his package with
foaming gel. 'I was thinking of shaving my pubes off like yours,' he said,
out of nowhere.

	'I don't think that's such a great idea,' I said, 'if you're
getting picked on at school, then anything that makes you stand out is
going to cause you difficulty.'

	'Yeah,' he agreed, 'that had occurred to me too, maybe I should
wait for the end of term, then if I don't like it, there'll be time for
them to grow back again.' He plucked curiously at the curly tufts of hair,
'I sometimes wonder what they're for.'

	He turned the water off and stepped out of the bath onto the mat, I
picked the big fluffy towel off the hook and wrapped it around his slender
waist. 'Right my lad, you go and get yourself dried, while I get cleaned up
too.'

	'Oh,' he said a little sulkily, 'so you could have showered with me
after all.'

	I didn't reply, being this close and intimate with Hugo was very
stimulating, I'd been in a semi-erect state ever since we'd come into the
bathroom, something that my thong had never been able to conceal. Mind you,
Hugo was also quite turned on, even if he didn't have the disturbing images
from my dream running through his mind. I leaned past him and turned the
water on again.

	Abruptly Hugo flung his arms round me, and hugged me fiercely,
'thank you for being so kind,' he whispered, burying his head in my chest.

	'That's ok,' I said, a little lamely, wrapping him in my
arms. Without any kind of conscious thought, I softly kissed the top of his
wet head, instantly he looked up, pulled me tighter into a clinch and
returned the kiss firmly on my lips. Two things then occurred, firstly his
towel which had not been very securely anchored on his slender hips, fell
away, and my cock gave a great jump in my pants, which he can't have failed
to notice. 'Oh-oh, wardrobe malfunction,' I said, when I was able to speak.

	Hugo giggled, 'yeah, although I can see that yours is still holding
up,' he pointed to my crotch where the silky material of my thong was
valiantly containing my stiffness.

	'They do have a mind of their own,' I smiled. Any sexual tension
between us seemed to have evaporated away, I know that I was the only one
who had doubts, but just for a moment we felt as innocent as two kids
comparing their cocks in the school changing rooms. 'Right, I'm wasting
water standing here,' I pulled off my pants, my stiff cock flopping free
and I got into the shower.

	Hugo stepped away from the towel and perched on the side of the
bath, 'Um, can I ask you a question?' he asked politely.

	'Of course,' I said, lathering shampoo into my hair.

	'How often do you have to shave to keep it smooth?'

	'Oh, every couple of days I guess, I usually get an idea if I need
a trim when I'm washing myself, it's very important to keep your bits clean
and fresh, especially if you're uncut like we both are. I'm sure you'll
have been told that a hundred times.'

	Before I could do anything to prevent him, Hugo leaned forward and
ran an exploratory hand over my pubic mound, along my cock and finished off
by gently stroking my balls, 'Hmm, I'd say you were a bit prickly,' he
smiled, taking his hand away, 'what do you think?'

	Lost for words I repeated his actions, and he was right, I was a
bit stubbly, 'Yeah, I do need to give it a bit of a trim,' I said, 'and I
suppose you want to watch.'

	'Only if you don't mind,' he said, 'I'll go away if I'm intruding.'

	The boy's capacity to wrong foot me seemed limitless, and I was
slightly overwhelmed by his sensitivity, 'no, it's ok,' I stammered, 'if
you're thinking of shaving yours off, it would probably be useful to you to
know what to do.'

	'Thanks,' he smiled gravely, 'you're very understanding.'

	I sensed that we had already crossed some sort of line, and there
was no point resisting the irresistible, 'ok, watch and learn, first off,
use a bit of facial scrub, just to get rid of all the dead skin.' I
squeezed some onto my hand and spread it generously over my denuded skin,
'you need to give yourself a scrub, it's good for your skin tone and stops
you getting spots, nothing worse than a spotted dick,' I grinned.

	'May I?' Hugo asked.

	I nodded, there was no denying him, he jumped into the bath next to
me and I felt his hand joining mine, 'you can be quite brisk,' I
demonstrated, 'you're exfoliating, not trying to turn me on.' Tentatively
at first, then with more confidence, Hugo massaged the gritty compound into
my skin, despite my injunction, it was impossible for me not to be turned
on. The hot water sluiced away the soapy remnants from my skin, leaving me
pink and tingling, 'ok, next stage happens out of the running water.' We
moved out of the shower's spray and I squirted a dollop of shaving gel into
my hand, 'you need a good stiff foam,' I instructed him, working it up in
my hands, 'then you rub it in all over the area you're going to shave.'

	'What, that nice stiff area there,' he laughed.

	'That's the place,' I agreed, 'except if you check out your own
stiff member you'll observe that it doesn't have much hair on it.'

	He lifted up his erection in his fingers and inspected it closely,
'you're right,' he agreed.

	'Once you've got a good lather up you can shave, now, your pubes
grow mostly downwards, so you should always try to shave against the
direction of growth. Ok, do you want to have a go?'

	'Can I?' he breathed, wide eyed, 'you'd trust me with a razor and
your bits.'

	'Maybe I should do the fiddly stuff,' I said, 'I do still have some
use for them after all.'

	Hesitantly at first and then with growing confidence, Hugo rubbed
the stiff foam all over my pubic region, giving special attention to my
rigid cock and my balls, without comment I handed him the razor. He sat
down on the edge of the bath, bringing his eyes more or less level with the
area of operations.

	'It's quite handy to have an erection,' I instructed, 'as you have
something to hold onto and your skin is already stretched. Now, don't be
shy, but do be gentle.'

	Hugo took hold of my cock and carefully applied the razor to my
pubic mound, flicking the foam into the running water after each stroke.

	'Ok, now have a feel where you've just shaved to see if you've
missed anything.'

	The boy ran his fingertips over my denuded skin; locating a tiny
patch of overlooked stubble; he rubbed some more foam over it and neatly
whisked it away.

	'That's brilliant,' I praised him, 'you can come back anytime, but
now maybe I'd better finish off.' He handed me back the razor as I put a
foot up on the side of the bath and watched closely as I carefully shaved
my balls and the inside of my thighs. 'That's it,' I said, 'confidence
comes with practice, and never use the same razor on your face as you do
for your pubes.'

	'Why's that?' he asked.

	'Pubes are much tougher than your beard, so the razor gets blunt
quicker, and you can cut yourself much more easily with a blunt razor. Same
thing happens if your girlfriend has used it to shave her legs or under
arms.'

	'Oh,' he said, light slowly dawning, 'I expect that'd be why my
brother was shouting at his last girlfriend.'

	'Probably,' I agreed, 'now, just a quick rinse and the job is more
or less done.' I washed off the last of the foam, turned the shower off and
stepped out of the bath. I wrapped the boy in his towel once more, and
briskly towelled myself dry. 'Final task is to put on some moisturiser,
shaving dries your skin, and we do want it to be nice and soft after all.'
I handed him the bottle of lotion, 'you can do the honours, I must have
rubbed about a gallon into you after all.'

	Hugo blushed, and poured a dollop of moisturiser into his palm
before rubbing his hands together and using them to spread it all over my
denuded pubis. If you've never had the experience of a near naked and
youthful boy massaging your erect cock with slippery lotion can I
respectfully suggest that if the opportunity arises you should embrace it
with both hands.

	The sensation managed to be both sensual and innocent; by now we
both knew that our relationship had gone beyond the casual, but somehow
there didn't seem to be the same degree of urgency any more.

	'So, have you learned anything today?' I grinned.

	Hugo carefully wiped his slippery hands on his naked torso, then he
pulled my head down to meet his and gave me a long and lingering kiss. When
he came up for air, he whispered; 'I learn new things every time when I'm
with you and I'm looking forward to learning some more.'

	'You know that moment when I woke you up this morning,' I
confessed, 'I'd been having a horny dream about you and me.'

	'Was it a nice one?' he asked anxiously.

	'Yes, it was, very nice' I said, 'and it very nearly made me come
in my pants.'

	'Come along, you can tell me all about it,' he said decisively,
taking my hand and leading me towards the bedroom. Alas, any possibility of
propagating our relationship was destined to be destroyed by the strident
tone of the house phone ringing in my office. 'Don't answer it,' he
entreated, letting his towel slip to the ground again. I havered, torn
between the strength of my feelings for the boy and my social
responsibilities.

	I gazed helplessly at the luscious naked vision of Hugo with a
mixture of adoration and lust, unable to make a decision. After a few rings
we heard my answering machine click on, and after my brief message I heard
the rich tones of the farmer; 'Hello John, I was wondering if you'd seen
anything of young Hugo? I've just had his mother on the phone raising merry
hell because he's not at home. Anyway, if you see him when you're out and
about, could you tell him to call her, or she'll be ringing the mountain
rescue next,' he hung up and I looked across at Hugo.

	'Oh,' despite his impressive erection Hugo looked about ten years
old for a moment, 'I'll have to phone her, or she really will call out the
guard.'

	'Go ahead, then I'd better let the farmer know you're found, or
he'll be searching for you too.' Any lustful thoughts were put on hold for
the time being, as Hugo plonked himself down on the bed and swiftly dialled
his mother's number.

	Rather than listen in to what might be a painful conversation, I
pulled on a t shirt and my shorts and went downstairs to the kitchen. As
luck would have it, the farmer lumbered into the yard on his big yellow
tractor, and I stuck my head out into the sunshine and waved him
down. 'It's alright,' I bellowed above the roar of the diesel engine, 'I
found Hugo, and he's phoning his mum right now.'

	'That's good,' he shouted back, 'we need to keep an eye out for
him, the old minister is really quite poorly and she's might need to be
away for a couple more nights. My wife says she'll go round and make sure
he's ok at teatime, there's plenty food in the house apparently and he's
not a babby any more.'

	'I'll see if I can do anything for him too,' I yelled, 'he seems to
be a sensible lad, I think.'

	'Aye, he's that indeed,' he agreed, and with a wave he put the
tractor into gear and continued on his way.

	I discreetly packed Hugo's wet clothes into a carrier bag, and was
just about to put the kettle on when I heard him coming down the stairs,
he'd found one of my t shirts, which, as I had secretly predicted looked
like a dress on him. 'You ok?' I asked.

	'Yeah, mum was in a bit of a strop at first because she couldn't
get hold of me, but she calmed down when I said you'd been looking out for
me and I was calling from your house.'

	'That's good,' I said, 'is everything alright?'

	'Grand-dad had a bad night, but he's very much better this morning
apparently, mum is going to stay in town for another night if you and Joan
don't mind keeping an eye on me.'

	'Joan?' I raised an eyebrow.

	'The farmers' wife,' he explained, 'she's known me since I was a
baby.'

	'Should I speak to your mum? Just to find out what she expects me
to do.'

	'Yeah, she said she's going to call you in a minute or two, she's
just ringing my dad in Singapore to bring him up to date.'

	'Ok, another cup of coffee?'

	'Yes please,' he settled himself on a stool as I busied myself
making another pot, I'd just poured the boiling water into the cafetiere
when the phone rang.

	I motioned to Hugo to help himself and grabbed the handset; 'hello,
is that John?' the unmistakeable tones of his mother boomed tinnily from my
phone.

	'Yes it is,' I replied, 'how can I help?'

	'Would you mind keeping an eye on Hugo, father needs me to be close
by for a couple of days. I'll get home to check that everything's ok
tomorrow, but I'd be very grateful if you could make sure that he's
comfortable and fed tonight, he's a sensible boy, but I never know when
he's going to go awol.'

	'Of course Jessica, I gather that Joan is going to pop in and check
he's had some tea, and I can call him later to make sure he's happy if
that's what you'd like me to do?'

	'Yes, that would be very kind of you, I'm a bit worried that he
might get lonely if he's left all by himself for the day'

	'He knows he's welcome here,' I said, 'and perhaps once he's had
his tea, he might like to watch a movie with me, I was telling him about
Hitchcock the other day.'

	'That would be marvellous, if you can spare the time.'

	'Of course, do you want to have a word with Hugo? He's still here.'

	'Yes please and thanks again,' she said, silently I handed the
phone over to him.

	'Hi Mum,' he said, then listened to her stream of instructions
without interrupting. When she stopped, either to draw breath or because
she'd run out of things to say, he chipped in, 'Ok, I will do, I'll call
you at teatime, give my love to grand-dad,' he pressed the disconnect
button and handed the phone back to me. 'Phew,' he said ruefully, 'that's
me told.'

	'That's not fair, she's worried about her father, and doesn't need
any more distractions.'

	'I know, that was selfish of me, sometimes I get an idea in my head
and it just pushes everything else out.'

	'Spoken like a classic creative,' I smiled, 'and it'll stand you in
good stead in later life. Come on, I'll give you a lift over in the landy,
save you from putting your soggy shoes back on.'

	'Oh yeah,' he grinned back at me, 'I hadn't thought of that.' He
opened the door, and stood in the doorframe drinking in the sunshine, the
bright light causing the t shirt/dress to become translucent and partially
expose his slim body and the delicate curve of his bottom. Suddenly I felt
very much at well with the world, I knew I'd never intentionally hurt the
boy, what we'd done might be beyond the law or outside the moral compass of
most people, but for some reason he wanted to spend time with me, and I was
aching to spend it with him.

	I came up behind him and gave him a friendly swat on the rump, my
hand lingering on his bottom for a delicious moment, 'come on then, stop
posing in my doorway, let's get you home and dry your clothes.'

	He gave me an indignant look and stepped outside, I followed behind
with his wet stuff and opened the door of the land rover for him. 'At least
I can get in without your help this time,' he smiled, as he bundled in,
'and haven't we come a long way since then.'

	'Haven't we just,' I agreed, 'and we've managed to get to
mid-morning without you breaking anything, contracting a rare tropical
disease or being shot by a gamekeeper.'

	'Oh, hah, hah, how about I could catch pneumonia from being caught
in the rain this morning,' he grumbled, 'since you seem to be determined to
find a way of killing me off.'

	'Oh, you silly boy,' I leaned forward and stroked his hair
affectionately, 'the very last thing on my mind is letting you come to any
harm.'

	'Oh, and I suppose this is the first thing on it,' he twisted round
on the seat, his legs parted; when he'd climbed into the car my t shirt had
ridden up over his thighs and was now failing to conceal that he was
getting quite aroused again.

	I swallowed, 'perhaps not the first thing, but definitely on it,' I
confessed ruefully, 'you really are lovely you know.'

	His face lit up, 'do you realise that's the first time you've paid
me a compliment, you're not so bad yourself for an old crock.'

	'I'll take that in the spirit it was intended,' I smiled and pushed
the car door closed, 'let's get you home and sorted out, then you can
decide what you're going to do for the rest of the day.' I drove the short
distance to Hugo's house, as soon as we pulled up he jumped out and ran
round the side, I dithered, not sure if he meant me to follow or not.

	A minute later he reappeared, beckoning me to him, 'come on, this
way, we don't use the front door very much.'

	'Unless the walking wounded are being delivered, of course,' I
grabbed the bag of wet clothes, and his sodden walking shoes from the foot
well of the car, 'right, where do you want these?'

	Round the side of the house was a paved yard with an empty stable
on one side of it, Hugo had opened the side door to the house, presumably
there was a hiding place for a key, or as we all tended to do round there,
he'd not bothered to lock the door behind him. One thing's for certain,
there wasn't anywhere he could have concealed a key about his person. 'Come
in,' he urged, 'the dryer's in the utility room and we can put my shoes in
the boot room.'

	This wasn't a world that I was particularly comfortable in, while
there are many wealthy people in this part of the world, they're not the
kind of people I tend to mix with socially, and my line of work is usually
a complete mystery to them. Marvelling inwardly that anyone might need a
special room to dry their boots in (although I suppose anyone who has kept
horses would see the benefit), I followed the boy into his house. Sensibly
enough the boot room was the first room you came to, and I deposited his
wet footwear on a rack alongside muddy rugby boots and an assortment of
wellingtons and riding stuff. Adjacent to this room, and still very much at
the tradesmen's end of the house, was the utility room, in another life it
must have been some sort of dairy as it had a huge stoneware sink and
utilitarian white marble work surfaces. Now it was dominated by a huge
chest freezer, a washing machine and a separate drier. Hugo took the bag of
wet clothes from me, and emptied them damply into the latter, he set the
	timer and slammed the door shut, which activated the machine. 'I've
given them an hour, that should be enough, shouldn't it?' he asked.

	'Don't ask me, I've never used one,' I replied, 'did you check that
you'd emptied your pockets?'

	'Oh bugger,' he swore, 'my phone.' He pulled open the door, causing
the machine to cease tumbling and fumbled in the pocket of his
shorts. 'It's ok, I don't think I've cooked it,' he said, 'it's not even
warm yet, although the display does look a little foggy.'

	'Take the battery out and put it in the airing cupboard overnight,
or longer if you can do without it.'

	'Oh, but I'll need to keep it on in case mum texts me.'

	'Ah, bit of a problem then.'

	'Maybe not,' he grinned, 'I'll put the sim card into my old phone,
come upstairs with me and I'll show you.' He raced off along the stone
flagged corridor, and I followed along at a more sensible pace; just before
you got into the main part of the house there was a narrow wooden staircase
up which he had vanished. I'm guessing that back in the day when this had
been the manse, this had been the route to the servants quarters in the
attic, and offered an explanation of how he was able to get in and out so
easily without attracting unwelcome attention.

	Unusually for this part of the country the house had three floors,
or more accurately; two and an attic. I entered Hugo's domain through a
generous open room, lit up by dormer windows let into the slope of the
roof, and with couple of battered but comfortable looking sofas. At the far
end were two doorways, one partly ajar, one closed.

	I couldn't see Hugo from the top of the stairs, but I did spot
where he'd dumped my t shirt on the floor, I walked across the room,
guessing that the open door would lead me to the boy. I'm not sure what I
was expecting to see when I walked through the doorway, but I certainly
wasn't expecting to find his naked body sprawled on the patchwork quilt,
his bottom elevated on a pillow and legs spread apart in a blatant sexual
invitation.

	'What's this in aid of?' I said, sitting down on the bed beside him
and gently stroking his firm cheeks.

	'I want you to fuck me up the arse,' he answered, his voice muffled
in the bedding.

	'Why should I do that?' I asked, my mind whirling with confusion
and desire.

	'Why can't I make you fuck me?' he demanded querulously.

	'Probably because I don't want to fuck you,' I answered.

	'What!' he protested angrily, rolling away from my touch and
standing up, 'your prick doesn't seem to think that, and you told me you'd
been dreaming about me.'

	I was shocked to realise that his eyes were brimming with tears,
'come here,' I said, holding my arms out to him. Hesitantly he crossed over
to me, and I pulled him down onto my lap, wrapping his lithe body in my
arms, 'listen to me, you lovely boy and try to dry your eyes, when I said I
didn't want to fuck you I truly meant it. What I do want, and I fully
intend to do when the time is right, is make love with you. I could have
stuck my cock in your hole just now, and I'm sure it would been a very
wonderful and pleasurable experience, and hopefully you would have enjoyed
it too. I think you're feeling a bit lost and unhappy at the moment, and I
could take so easily take advantage and after a couple of weeks you'd end
up thinking you'd been used by me. Don't misunderstand me, my prick, as you
have observed, has no conscience and is a very accurate weather vane of how
I feel about you.'

	'Some weather vane,' he giggled, tears already forgotten, 'I
suppose it casts a long enough shadow though.'

	'As yours has demonstrated better than I,' I agreed, 'don't get me
wrong,' I continued, 'my body's aching for you, I think you're the sexiest
person that I've met for a long time, but whatever we do, I want us to do
it together, and I want to get to know you better too.'

	Hugo abruptly buried his head on my chest, and I realised that he
was crying, long deep sobs that shook his slender frame. I softly stroked
his hair, comforting him until the sobbing abated. 'I'm so sorry,' he
mumbled snottily into my t shirt, 'I've messed it up again, just like I
always do.'

	'Nonsense,' I said firmly, 'you're just a bit impatient, that's
all, perfectly natural in someone your age.'

	'No, there's something I haven't told you yet,' he continued,
without moving his head, 'I had a friend in Nigeria, he was a bit older
than me, nearly at the end of his school time, we did everything together,
and then I think I went and messed it up really badly.'

	'Go on,' I prompted.

	'I was a good bit younger then, but I had been feeling horny all
the time, and one day when Freddy and I were going swimming I got really
turned on, and tried to touch him and make him touch me. He was horrified
and pushed me away, said he never wanted to see me again.'

	'That was a bit cruel of him.'

	Hugo gulped, 'he called me a filthy queer, and said I'd go to
hell.'

	'Was Freddy a Nigerian?' I asked.

	'Yeah, why?'

	'Life isn't easy for you if you're gay or bi in lots of Africa,
there's a big cultural problem with it, I don't know much about Nigeria,
but I wouldn't be surprised if same sex relationships are illegal out
there.' I hugged the boy tightly to me, 'don't fret, as far as I'm
concerned you've done nothing wrong, even if climbing into my bed in the
middle of the night was a bit unexpected.'

	He turned his tear streaked face to mine, 'it was nice though,
wasn't it? I felt really comfortable and safe lying next to you.'

	'Yeah, it was, and I'm glad you felt safe,' I agreed, and kissed
him softly on the forehead.

	'Do you promise me you're not just saying things that you hope will
make me feel better?' he asked, looking very seriously at me, 'I really
want to find out more about sex with you.'

	'I promise,' I said, equally seriously, 'but I'll add a caveat, I
want you to find out about love too.'

	'I'll buy that,' he grinned, 'I think I'm just about ready to learn
about love, as long as you can promise there'll plenty of sex along the way
too.'

	'By Jove, I think he's got it,' I exclaimed, I clasped Hugo's head
in my hands and kissed him fiercely on the lips, after a moment I felt his
teeth and lips part and his tongue slipped into my mouth, we experimented
with tongues, clearly he was keen to press on at the earliest opportunity.

	Our pleasurable reverie was interrupted by the doorbell, 'shit,'
Hugo swore, 'who's that now, I'd better go and find out.'

	'You'd better put some clothes on first,' I grinned.

	'Oh yeah,' he agreed, he grabbed his running shorts and a
sleeveless t shirt from his pile of clean clothes and hastily pulled them
on, he slipped on a pair of sandals to complete his ensemble and galloped
off to answer the door.

	I followed along more slowly, not being familiar with the layout of
the house, when I got to the bottom of the stairs I listened out for the
sound of voices. Eventually I could hear the murmur of speech and lifted
the latch on the relevant door, as with the rest of the house, the kitchen
was large and comfortably appointed, with a giant farmhouse table
dominating the centre of the room. An electric kettle was already coming up
to the boil, although I spotted an old fashioned analogue version on the
granite countertop next to the aga. Hugo was chatting amiably to a tall
angular woman, who I recognised as the farmer's wife Joan, before she's
retired I knew she'd been the head teacher at the village school, and a
generation of locals deferred to her.

	'Good morning,' I said, advancing into the room.

	She gave me a speculative glance, no wonder the locals were
terrified by her; her gaze was like an X-ray, suddenly and unexpectedly she
smiled broadly, 'Ah, you must be John, I don't know why we haven't spoken
before, it's terribly rude of me, Hugo tells me you've been looking after
him this morning.'

	'Just doing my bit,' I stammered, unsure how to address her.

	'Call me Joan,' she obliged, 'it seems we have been charged with
the care of this wee reprobate.'

	'Yes,' I agreed helplessly, 'I spoke to Jessica this morning, I
gather her father is on the mend but still needs her attention.'

	'He's a man,' she said sternly, 'they always need attention, don't
they my boy?'

	Hugo squirmed pleasurably at this brusque address, I could see that
he was very attached to the older lady, and that her affection for him was
entirely unsentimental but perfectly genuine.

	'I was going to make a pot of tea, you'll join us.' This was not a
question, I was being checked out again, and somehow I was sure that her
scrutiny was likely to be much more acute than that of Hugo's mother.

	'Of course,' I said, 'Hugo, where do you keep the digestive
biscuits?' Although I had no doubts about her intelligence and forensic
skill, I had been interrogated by enough of my aunties to know how to cope
with this situation. Never, ever try to be clever or funny, would be my
watchword, and bear in mind that if she had any doubts about me we wouldn't
be having the conversation at all.

	Hugo found the biscuits and a plate, and put a few out on the
table, I was pleased to spot that he put out plain biscuits, entirely
appropriate to the Calvinist theme. He found the plain cups and saucers,
and poured some milk into a jug from an enormous bottle in the fridge,
going about his tasks with a faint smile playing on his lips. I was
impressed by how well he was managing under the circumstances, although
from what his mother had said, Joan had featured in their lives since
birth. The tea was made, and once it had mashed, there was no question
about who was going to be mother.

	'So,' she said, blowing on her tea, 'are you not going away at the
moment?'

	'No, I'm working from home for the next few weeks, I've a big
project coming up later in the year, but it's still in the planning
stages.'

	'Ah, will this lad not be under your feet then?'

	'No, I don't think so, he knows I have to work and he's got an art
project to work on for school, he's going to use one of my computers to
edit the pictures.'

	'Oh computers, I haven't got much beyond e-mail and shopping for
books,' she said ruefully, 'anything more complicated and we have to ask my
son Kenneth.'

	'Oh well, if there's ever anything I can help with, let me know.'

	'Thank you, now, what are we going to do about this boy?' she
asked.

	'I am here you know,' he protested feebly.

	'Jessica told me you were going to see he got his tea, and I
suggested he might like to come over to mine and watch a movie afterwards,
I'll bring him back home and make sure he gets to bed at a sensible time.'

	'Is that alright?' she asked Hugo, 'are you sure you won't be
scared all alone in this big house? I could make up a spare bed at mine, or
maybe you could stay over at John's?'

	'I'm afraid I don't have a spare bed,' I interjected, 'although I
could make something up on the couch.'

	'I'll be fine,' he said, 'you're both very kind, and it's only for
another night after all, and if I'm worried I can call either of you.'

	'Well,' she continued, 'I think between us we've got it covered,
I'd best get away now, I've not let the chickens out yet. You come up to
the house at lunchtime and I'll give you a sandwich and a slice of cake,'
she instructed Hugo, 'and phone us if any of your plans change,' she
commanded me.

	'Yes of course, and thanks for keeping an eye out for him,' I said.

	'Oh stuff and nonsense,' she said, 'he's not such a bad lad really,
although he's growing up so quickly.'

	Hugo blushed at this blast of fierce affection, politely he cleared
the table of our empty cups and stacked them into the dishwasher, we stood
up and Joan made her stately exit; through the front door, I noted.

	'I must be on my way too,' I said, 'she's reminded me that I've a
few e-mails I need to send this morning.'

	'Will I be able to see you later?' he pouted.

	'Count on it,' I said, 'you'd better keep to the timetable you've
just been given, so how about you go to Joan for your sandwich at midday,
and we can meet up at the swimming hole after that, then we can take it
from there, it's only a couple of hours away after all.'

	'Ok, that sounds like a plan, will we have the afternoon together,
or do you have something else you need to do?'

	I was pleased that he wasn't just thinking about himself, Joan was
right, he really was growing up. 'I'll clear my diary,' I smiled, 'have you
got something to do?'

	'I can think of something,' he grinned wickedly, 'but maybe I
shouldn't, save myself for later. Perhaps I'll walk up to my hilltop, and
scope out that alternative shadow idea you mentioned, I could do a few
nature studies while I'm there.'

	'Good idea, I'll think of you while I'm toiling at the computer,
but I really must get on if we're going to have the afternoon.'

	As I turned to leave, Hugo beckoned me over and held out his arms,
I crossed over and we hugged, Hugo kissed me passionately on the lips, then
turned his head so our cheeks pressed together. 'Don't forget about me,' he
whispered.

	'Don't worry, I won't,' I whispered back, and very softly stroked
the silky hair on the nape of his neck, I could feel him wriggle with
pleasure.

	'Ooh,' he moaned, 'that's fantastic, you can do that all day long.'

	I gently ran my fingers down his spine, and over the curve of his
bottom, he turned his head to mine and we kissed again, I could feel my
cock stiffening in my shorts. I moved my hand from its resting place on his
bum, and cautiously explored the front of his nylon shorts, he too was
erecting, I could feel him stiffening under my fingertips.

	'Do you realise that's the first time you've really touched me?' he
breathed.

	'Mmm,' was all I could think of to say. Our new-found sexual
confidence was interrupted, as seemed to be inevitable, by someone banging
on the front door.

	'It's the postie,' he giggled, breaking from our clinch, 'I can't
answer the door like this,' he indicated the outline of his erect cock,
clearly visible through the thin white nylon.

	'Then don't,' I suggested, 'he'll leave your post anyway. Much as I
don't want to, I'm going to have to leave you, or the afternoon won't be
ours.' I headed towards the back door, Hugo following behind me. Outside
the sun was blazing down, and all the overnight rain had evaporated, I
could see the posties van pulling away, he'd already been to my place and
was heading back towards civilisation. 'Until later then,' I smiled.

	'Yeah, laters,' he said sulkily, spoiling his attempt at teenage
angst by breaking into a radiant smile.

	I climbed into my land rover, smiled and blew him a kiss, before
letting in the clutch and driving off. I could see him in the mirror waving
me off from the doorstep, the day had started weirdly, but I knew that we'd
found an understanding and from now on it could only get better.