Date: Thu, 15 Aug 2013 22:29:24 +1030
From: Robert A. Armstrong <rob.aa@hotmail.com>
Subject: Schoolie - Chapter 15

You should know by now that this is a work of pure fiction - just an
expression of a fantasy. The resemblance of my characters by action, name,
location or description to any real person is purely coincidental - if it
seems to be you, or somebody you know, I apologise.

If relationships between boys and men is not your scene, or if you're under
age, or if it is not legal for you to be reading this, then please leave,
now, before somebody finds out!

Otherwise, enjoy!


From Chapter 14

Marty is drinking beer. Will's having lemonade and I'm into the
caffeine. We all agree when it's time to `hit the sack'. I don't know
whether Marty falls asleep quickly, but Will and I don't. LOL.

My deodorant comes in handy, yet again, as an air freshener. I need to buy
more of this stuff. I'm running out.


Chapter 15

Saturday morning. On the trip into big town with Marty, it's only now that
I feel comfortable in sharing the details of my `meeting' with Lilly on
Tuesday afternoon, and my disgust at her appearance, her language and her
behaviour. I express very clearly my empathy for Will but do not share his
darker secrets of her sexual abuse of him.

Marty reveals a lot more of his aunt's `antics' around the village over the
past years. Maybe Will is right. A single lightning bolt from heaven would
be too quick for her! She really should burn and suffer.

After stopping at the store to hand over our list of grocery requirements,
Marty and I head to the Acropolis. I've been looking forward to this. My
obligatory custard tart is consumed with gusto. I wonder whether Jake could
add custard tarts to his prowess with apple pies!

A number of people stop to chat with Marty about his recent encounter with
the snake and he shares the details of his almost-complete recovery. I take
the opportunity of using my phone to send mum and dad just two photographs
- one of Marty, my landlord, and me which Jane took and one of all the
children which I took.

Amid the conversations, Chad and Sean drop by. Extra talking. Extra
caffeine and an extra custard tart. Yum. I think that there is only one
other thing that I would rather have in my mouth. LOL. `Soon!' I tell
myself. I think I've psyched myself up to going further with Will,
almost. My fears of discovery and legal proceedings have not materialised,
and their likelihood seems to be fading. I don't know whether Marty would
be sympathetic if he ever found out, but I suspect that he would be, as
long as he and I could also continue to play together. However, there's
Anna. Who was it who said something like, `Hell hath no Furie like a woman
scorned'? What should I do about her and her potential fury? Should I play
up my fidelity for `Karen'? I think, having considered many options,
including a review of the vestiges of my `normal' instincts, and
considering Junior's apparent willingness to cooperate with her against my
wishes, that feigned fidelity is my only safe alternative to keeping her at
bay.

Just before we leave for home, I receive a reply from mum thanking me for
the `lovely photos'. She thinks that Marty is handsome (I don't disagree)
and that the one of me with the children is `delightful', adding that I
look very healthy and youthful! Haha! She has mistaken Will in the group
photograph for me with my cherubs. It's understandable, considering that in
the photo with Marty, I'm wearing identical clothes to Will in the group
photo. I'll let Will know. I'm sure that he'll be greatly amused, just as I
am.

On the following Friday morning, with all my preparations complete for the
day's lessons, I sit on the schoolyard bench and watch all of my charges
playing. I notice that Karl and Kurt seem very animated in their
discussions with Will - excitedly animated. Suddenly, like a conspiracy of
food-hungry seagulls, the three guys flock around me. The twins sit one on
either side of me. Will stands directly facing me and speaks first. "Mr
Grant, Karl and Kurt have told me that their dad, who normally comes home
from his work every night, needs to stay out there tonight. He said that
there is a vet travelling up to examine and treat some of the animals. It's
a long trip for her and everyone will benefit if she stays overnight and
gets as much work done as possible in the one trip. And it will be easier
for Mr Andersen to stay the night too, so that he can talk with her about
the animals as she treats them." I wonder whether the vet will be as
accommodating to his physical needs as Lilly has been. She certainly must
be a lot more attractive, whatever her appearance!

Will continues, "Mr Andersen told Karl and Kurt that I could spend the
night with them if I wanted to, and that it would be good for the guys to
have a more mature person with them, just to make sure that they don't get
into any mischief." Will looks from one to the other with a knowing
smirk. I don't even have to see the twins' faces to gauge their enthusiasm
for Will's sleepover - I can simply feel the energy emanating from each of
them. They are not hyperventilating but their breathing is more rapid and
they are having difficulty sitting still. Also, Will is shifting his weight
back and forth from one foot to the other and his eyes are wide with
anticipation.

Will doesn't need my permission to stay with the twins, but I thank him for
the courtesy of letting me know that he won't be travelling home with me,
and tell them all that I hope they have a lot of fun. They know that I'm
aware of exactly what mischief they will surely get up to. I'm sure that
this makes it even more exciting for them - tacit approval from an
authority figure. I ask them if they will be OK for dinner and Karl tells
me that `it's all good' because they often prepare the evening meal for
their dad. I ask Will if he needs to collect anything from Marty's. He
replies that he doesn't think so but if he needs anything he can always
duck across to his mum's place as he still has a few of his things
remaining there despite having moved most of his clothes and essentials to
Marty's place weeks ago.

I instantly imagine the three of them romping around the house naked,
playing all manner of grabbing games to satisfy their adolescent
urges. Will might even `get lucky' and get to go a bit further with them,
like he does with Jake. I think that this is one of his fantasies and
hopes.

At the same time, I smile and contemplate myself being at home, alone, with
Marty, who might `need a hand' with something too.

Before I dismiss the children at the end of the day I tell them that I hope
they have an enjoyable and safe weekend. My words are directed to everyone
generally but are aimed at Will, Karl and Kurt in particular as I eyeball
them. Then the senior boys all perform their `lock-up' duties, wish me a
good weekend with smirks, winks and giggles, and they head off.

I sit at my desk. Alone. Well, almost. My thoughts are as intrusive on my
solitude as if I had somebody with me and talking at me. Every second
thought is about Mr William O'Brien - my Will! Interspersed are memories of
meeting the children at the weir, and meeting Marty on the same day.

Ah, yes, Will - the inappropriately nicknamed `Little Willie'! And there
are thoughts of Marty's Mum and sister, Anna, who spent most of her time
chasing of Will - my Will, but who now seems intent on chasing me! And then
there are visions of Jake masturbating with Will - my Will! And the
handsome blond, blue-eyed, melon-butted twins, Karl and Kurt - my
Kurt. Shit! Where did that thought come from? Enough! I need to get home to
Marty.

I lock everything except the gate, which I simply pull closed as an
indication that `school is out for the weekend'. I smile when I see that
Will's new `P' plates are still attached to my car, and I decide that it's
easier to leave them there since I won't be travelling very far. I slide in
and think that the boys will be having fun already - probably playing their
first grabbing game in the guise of `tag' or another of their imaginative
scenarios.

I drive, with thoughts of my once-boring, now-complicated life flashing
through my brain. I am relieved when I pull up at Marty's and see him with
the dogs. I walk over to them and when Marty looks up at me and then at my
car, he comments, "All alone, eh?"

I can't help joking with him about Will. "Hi Marty. How are you feeling?
Yeh, the good news is that we only need to cook about half as much food
tonight. The big hungry smartarse is staying with Karl and Kurt." Marty
knows that I am joking but this sort of roasting of Will may, hopefully,
keep him off the scent of the true relationship between Will and me. Marty
smiles at my reference to Will and his appetite, then I see his expression
change. His smile broadens into a huge goofy grin. Perhaps the penny has
just dropped that he and I will be alone together for the night. He's about
to get lucky.

He gets up and slaps me on the back. "Well then, let's get started!" I
can't tell whether there is any innuendo in his words or whether he's just
referring to dinner. But, knowing Marty, there's bound to be more on his
mind than pizza - two potatoes and a piece of meat would be getting
closer. "How do you feel about sausages, veg, mashed potato and my special
gravy?" I let the `special gravy' thought come and go.

I enjoy bandying words with Marty. I reply, "Hmm. That sounds good. I
haven't had a decent sausage in... I don't know how long." He looks at me
strangely. I just smirk and wink. He raises an eyebrow, and I know that we
are now on the same wavelength. There will be a bit of action after dinner
for sure! I feel my sausage start to expand. "I think I'll clean up first,"
I say.

Marty heads to the kitchen and I to my room. I put my things on Will's
bed. I miss him already. I strip naked and grab my towel. I adjust the
shower until the water temperature is bearably hot - just how I like it. I
luxuriate in the combination of heat and soap and I clean myself from head
to toe. I look up and there's Marty, leaning on the door frame, watching
and making no pretence about it. I say nothing but decide that it's time to
really soap up my cock and balls. Some swelling is inevitable - mine and, I
suspect, his too. I turn and face him directly, hiding nothing.

"Need a hand with anything?" Marty asks hopefully.

"Nah. It's all good." I reply. He looks disappointed. Then I add, "at least
not before dinner." Smirk. "What about you? Can I give you a hand?"

"Any time you like," he smiles back with a devilish leer, lowering the
zipper on his cut-offs to half way.

"OK. I'll come and set the table," I reply, teasing. He wrinkles his nose
at me, child-like, and heads back to the kitchen. I decide to dry off and
just wrap the towel around my waist, expecting that it will be coming off
sooner or later.

We enjoy the meal and continue our banter and suggestive
inferences. Sausages figure prominently. At one time, Marty forks an entire
sausage to his mouth, licking it and sucking it in and out. I nod. It's all
smirking good fun.

We clean up then sit back down with a mug of coffee. "What about a hand
now?" Marty puts his right elbow on the table and lifts his hand to an
arm-wrestling position.

It's not at all what I was expecting but I match him and grasp his hand
firmly, telling him "any time you're up for it!" That elicits another grin
and he starts to exert pressure on my arm. I resist and push back against
him. His arm yields a little. "Looks like that snake really took it out of
you!" I goad. He grits his teeth and increases his effort. He's strong, but
so am I, maybe a lot more than he anticipated. The gym workouts at home
have not been wasted!

"If I win, you lose the towel!" he grins playfully, obviously expecting me
to be fully naked very quickly.

"Not before you'll be forfeiting those cut-offs." I throw back at him.

"We'll see about that, Mr Schoolie!" he retorts and pushes hard. The
comment, while not derogatory, is intended to be both provocative and
challenging. I accept.

For three or four minutes it's an even contest but my arm is getting
sore. I contemplate `throwing in the towel' when I sense him ease off, so I
put everything into a final thrust, and he's beaten. "Yes!" I pump the air
and then massage my aching arm and shoulder. I raise both eyebrows, incline
my head to one side and give him an open-palm gesture towards his shorts;
all of which says, `OK, take them off'.

"Oh, well. It's nothing you haven't seen before," he shrugs. He stands up
and drops them. The sudden freedom that his cock experiences causes it to
expand and rise to horizontal. He smirks. "Two out of three!" It's not a
question. He settles himself back down with arm at the ready. I know that
this time I'm going to lose, whether he beats me or whether I just yield
intentionally. I resist enough so that we are both sweating. Ultimately,
when I sense some despair in his strength and body language, I allow him to
get the better of me this time. I feel my already-plumped-up cock stiffen
in anticipation of what will follow. Standing up, I release one corner of
the towel and leave it hanging on my hard peg.

Marty reaches for the towel and pulls it slowly to one side across my cock
until gravity does the rest and Junior jumps free. "Now what? We need a
decider," I suggest, trying to appear to be ignoring our highly aroused
states as best as I can.

"On the cow skin," Marty replies, indicating the rug in the middle of the
living room. "Full body wrestling. First to pin the other's shoulders on
the ground for three seconds will be the victor."

"What's the prize?" I ask playfully.

"Winner's choice. Anything goes. OK?" I nod my agreement and smile because
I haven't let on to Marty that I used to wrestle a bit at college. Nothing
serious, but I learned a few moves.

Although we are both sweaty, Marty suggests using a bit of oil as well, `to
make it more interesting'. He retrieves a bottle of cooking oil from a
cupboard, pours some into his hands and smears it on his chest, abdomen and
legs. And then he gives his cock a quick rub as well. I take the bottle and
do likewise. I pour a little more into my hand and spread it down his back
and across his butt cheeks. I hand him the oil and turn my back to him. His
touch, as he rubs my back, is exciting. I think of Will and wish that it
was his hands rubbing me. However, I feel different with Marty. There is
not the guilt that I have experienced playing around with Will or in
touching the twins. It's just plain sexy fun.

Marty kneels upright on the cowskin and I assume a position in front of
him. I follow Marty's lead and copy what he does as he runs a hand across
my chest and shoulders. He cups one hand behind my neck and then slides his
other hand around my erection, giving it a few firm and playful pumps. It's
obvious that this is more about the impending sex than about wrestling,
which has just been Marty's contrived way of initiating some tentative
foreplay. Be that as it may, I want to pin him, to prove a point. Bragging
rights!

It doesn't begin as a contest - more like mutual massage and body
exploration, helping to spread the oil all around. However, when Marty
tries to catch me off guard and pushes me over sideways, it's on! He flops
on top of me, thinking that he's about to win straight up. Despite enjoying
the feel of his body and erection pressed against me, I lift my knees and
push up with my pelvis, rolling him over my head. He looks surprised. I
stand up and he comes at me with a bear hug, gripping me low and lifting me
high. As he lets me slide slowly down his oiled body, his cock slips
between my thighs under my balls and he takes the opportunity for a few
pelvic thrusts. While he's enjoying himself I bring my hands up under his
arms, pushing out and releasing his grip. I spin him around into a full
Nelson. My sausage now is firmly wedged up the length of his crack and I do
a few thrusts of my own. He crouches tightly, forcing me to release him and
roll over him. With me on my back and Marty at my head, he puts both knees
on my shoulders. I can either push him off or let him win. His pendulous,
bull-like balls are suspended directly above my face. I lift my head and
give them a lick. He becomes motionless, relaxes and moans.

I let my entire body loosen up and he knows he's won. But, rather than
celebrating because he knows that I've purposely let him triumph, he simply
leans forward, licks my nipples and moves lower to my navel, then follows
my wispy treasure trail downwards. "Winner's choice," he reminds me. He
takes my meat directly into his mouth and begins to copy what he did at the
dinner table, sucking the sausage in and out. The sensation is electric and
my cock stiffens to maximum rigidity. With one hand he pushes his own cock
towards my mouth and I oblige. Fuck, I would really love to do this with
Will. We roll onto our sides and while we passionately exercise our mouths
and tongues, we use our free hands to explore each other's body - pecs,
nipples, abs and glutes. We even brush over each other's hole. We continue
to enjoy each other until I feel the tension build quite suddenly. I pull
my mouth off him for a moment and warn him, then suck him back in. He keeps
sucking. I don't know who comes first, but we both end up with a
mouthful. What an orgasm! And what a load! Do I swallow or spit? Marty
rolls off me and I can see my abundance of cum escaping from his mouth onto
his chin. He simply opens his mouth and lets the rest run out - over his
chin and onto his chest. I watch as it streaks its way lower. Very hot. I
copy his dribbling.

"Shower?" Marty asks, without commenting on the sex. We come down from our
highs by holding and washing each other all over, very thoroughly. "Want to
sleep with me?" he asks straightforwardly. I can't believe his lack of
inhibition. Now how do I decline without appearing to reject his offer
outright? I want to save that which I think Marty has in mind to share with
Will.

"I'd love to Marty, but I'm not ready for anything further... just yet. I
hope you understand." He nods and simply expresses that it was a long
shot. Then I add, "...but I would be happy if it did happen sometime." I
encourage him to think that it will. He's satisfied with that.

He gives me a hug and pats me a few times on the backside. "Very nice," is
all that he says.

As I lie in bed, pondering what has just happened with Marty and how much I
enjoyed that release, I think of both him and Will. Marty is a very
youthful man and Will is quite a manly youth - nice balance, eh? Both are
fun to be with. Marty is self-assured; Will needs assurance. Marty is
comfortable; Will needs comforting. Marty has a mischievous sense of
humour. Will is easily humoured. The two of them are extremely well built
and both obviously enjoy being sexual with me, as I certainly do with
them. I want more with both of them. However, I perceive Marty as a
passing, but exciting, dalliance; I see Will as long-term - very long-term!


It's Saturday morning and I am in my usual place, at my desk, preparing the
lessons for the ensuing week. I glance out through the western windows and
watch as Will makes his way, almost skipping and capering, from the twins'
place around to the school. He slows down to walk along the verandah. As he
approaches the door I call, "Come in, buddy."

It is obvious from the grin on Will's face that my next question will be
superfluous. "So, did you get lucky?" He is about to open his mouth and
answer, but I stop him. "Stupid question! Let me just put it another
way... how lucky did you get? Can you tell me? Or not?"

He pauses. "Tom, you know about house rules," is all he says while looking
directly into my eyes. I can tell from his smirk that he is toying with me
and waiting for a reaction, maybe for me to beg him to tell me. He really
does want to tell me about his fun with Karl and Kurt.

I think to myself, `Two can play mind games, you cheeky smart arse!' So,
all I say is, "OK. No problem. I respect that." I look at him, wink, pick
up some books and stand up to go into the store room. He's almost bursting
with excitement, yet he's suffering torment because he knows that it's his
`duty' not to divulge anything.

"BUT... the guys won't mind if I tell you, Tom."

I up the ante. "No, Will. I wouldn't want you to break a
confidence. Secrets are important, right? Like you and me." I walk into the
store room. He follows closely behind me and stops at the door.

"BUT.. you already know what we do. You've seen us at the weir and you even
mucked around with us."

"Will, that was then. It doesn't entitle me to the privilege of knowing
each and every private thing that you and Karl and Kurt do when you're
alone." The smirk drains from his face and leaves him looking serious,
almost guilty. Shit! This is not what I intended. I feel like a real
heel. I have to fix this up, quickly.

"Will, buddy, little brother, come here." I motion him towards me. He takes
a step and I move to meet him half way. I wrap my arms around him - one
over his shoulder and the other under his opposite arm and around his
back. He slowly slides his arms around me. Despite the fact that we are now
the same height, Will rests his head on my shoulder, nuzzles into my neck
and whispers a heart-felt apology.

"Will, do I get the impression that you really want to tell me what
happened?"

"Uh-huh," he nods quietly, lifting his head to lock his eyes on mine. His
desire melts through my attempted stoicism.

"Was it as good as you hoped it would be?"

"Better!" he smiles weakly.

"You do know that if you had Karl and Kurt's permission to tell me about
last night, I'd really love to listen."

"Really?" He is quickly regaining his earlier perkiness.

"But I'm not sure they would understand exactly why you might want to talk
to me about it. Wouldn't that make them suspicious about you and me?"

"Hah! I don't think so Tom. I've steered their thoughts down a different
path. I've `secretly' mentioned that I found out that you have a girl
friend at home and that the four of us mucking around in the weir must have
been just fun and guy stuff. I haven't even told them about Jake and me. I
tell them that whenever I talk to you at home - good and bad stuff, that
you listen to me and that you give me your advice, and that I think you're
a super-cool Schoolie. And they agree with me." I can tell that he's
excited when he runs his sentences together and forgets to breathe.

"I tell you what, Will. If they say it's OK to `talk to me' about you and
them - just `guy stuff', then I promise to listen and maybe offer you any
advice that I think you might need." I wink at him hoping that he
understands the excuse of seeking and giving of advice. His smirk tells me
that he twigs to my meaning then he suddenly takes off, running. I step out
onto the verandah and watch him rapidly retrace his steps to the twins'
house. He is only inside for a few minutes and then he's on his way back. I
return inside. This time he doesn't slow down - he clatters along the
verandah and bursts into the classroom, slightly breathless.

"OK. I have their permission."

"Will," I laugh, "I really didn't think that you would rush over there and
actually ask their permission. What on earth did you say?"

"I just said that I wanted somebody's advice about what we did and, seeing
that I don't have a dad to talk to, like them, would it be OK with them if
I talked to you." He stops.

"And...?" I prod.

"And, they said that it was OK, because they know you will be cool about
everything and won't tell their dad. And, they said that they definitely
won't be mentioning it to him either." Grin.

"So...?" I know that once he starts, it will be hard to stop him, and I
really am interested in why last night was better than Will had
expected. "'Just tell me whatever you want me to hear. I'm all ears."

"Well," he starts, "when we first went inside their place, Karl grabbed me
and then ran off to hide. Of course I ran after him. He was under the bed,
so I reached under and scrunched him. Before I could get up again, Kurt did
the same to me and hid in the bathroom. We spent a lot of time, chasing,
grabbing and hiding."

"Then Karl suggested that every time somebody got grabbed, they had to take
off a piece of clothing. Hell, I only had two shoes, two socks, underpants,
shorts and my shirt. I wasn't going to last long with both of them after
me, was I? After I lost everything, I told them to be a little more gentle
in the ball department, or I'd get even, and that my grip is stronger than
theirs. We just had a lot of fun."

"We put our undies on to have dinner and after we cleaned up, things got
really exciting. Instead of running around the house, we had to pretend we
were an animal, going on all fours. Kurt thought he would be funny and
pretend to be a snake so that he couldn't be grabbed, but Karl and I got
our paws under him from both sides."

"After that, we agreed that we would just sit on the couch and play with
each other. I was in the middle. They both liked feeling all my hairs. They
had to take it in turns to play with my cock and balls but I had one of
them in each hand, just jerking them like I do to Jake. Haha. They copied,
on me, what I was doing to them and I suddenly felt the urge to spurt. I
warned them, then let fly all over my chest and stomach, groaning and
telling them how great it felt."

"I couldn't believe that they didn't know what had happened. They had never
done that, or seen that, before. But they did tell me that sometimes lately
each of them has woken up wet and sticky and they didn't know why. We
talked about it and I asked them what they were dreaming of during the
night and they both said playing with you and me in the weir."

"I reckoned that I could make them spunk, like I do to Jake... and you,
haha. So I just told them to relax and I would try to do for them what they
had just done for me, and that they would really like it."

"Karl let me do him first. I jerked his fat cock up and down for a while
and then spat on my hand and rubbed him with it. He closed his eyes and
said that it felt terrific. When he was close he said, `Something's gonna
happen but I don't know what. I think I'm gonna pee or something." Then he
let fly three strong spurts. He kept going `OMG. OMG. How fantastic!' Then
Kurt was really anxious for me to do him. He closed his eyes and kept
pushing his cock into my hand, and came a lot faster that Karl did."

"I asked him what he was thinking of with his eyes closed. He said, `having
Mr Grant feel my cock under water.' He even said how great it would be if
you were there too, so Karl could play with me and he could play with
you. He even made up a game. Because you and I look so much alike Kurt
thought it would be fun if we sat opposite each other, like in a mirror,
with Karl next to me and him next to you. He said that whatever Karl and I
did, he and you would copy them exactly - pretending that it was us in the
mirror.

He told me, `When Karl grabs you, I would grab Mr Grant, and when you spunk
Karl, Mr Grant would spunk me, at the same time.' I told them that you
wouldn't do that. What happened at the weir was a one-time
thing. Although... it would be hot, don't you think?"

I say to Will, "Thank you for sharing that, little bro. House rule. My lips
are sealed. And yes, you did the right thing, telling them that the weir
was a one-time thing. Kurt doesn't need any more encouragement."

We return to Marty's. Will does some painting. I catch up on my Harry
Potter. After dinner, with Marty in bed, Will and I lie together in his
bed. I'm spooned up to him. Our legs are bent, just like he's sitting in my
lap, only we're horizontal. We chat softly about Karl and Kurt and `getting
lucky' before we fall asleep, with Will wrapped in my arms.

In the morning I wake up in my own bed, wet and sticky. Realising what has
happened, I recall my dream - playing `mirrors' with the three naked boys,
and I remember that it included much more than just grabbing and jacking
off! I recall snippets of my vision - Will sucking Karl; Karl lying on
Will's back making thrusting movements with his pelvis into Will's
backside; Will and Karl swapping places; Kurt and I mirroring everything.

OMG!


To be continued...

-----

Please support the efforts at Nifty. Every little bit helps. Do it here:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html