Date: Thu, 5 Sep 2013 09:30:00 +1030
From: Robert A. Armstrong <rob.aa@hotmail.com>
Subject: Schoolie - Chapter 17

You know that this is a work of pure fiction, don't you? 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 16

I think for a moment. Lilly isn't, or may not be, dead, but she is still
not here for her son. Perhaps she has eloped or gone off on a
spree. Hopefully, she hasn't met with foul play at the hands of one or a
number of undesirables. I'm not sure how Will is going to take this news
once he thinks it through. He may be happy that she wasn't killed, or it
could make him worse, knowing that she has literally left him to his own
devices, intentionally abandoning him. And how will that affect my plan for
my parents to adopt Will if his mother is still alive? And what of my
promise to `go all the way' with him the day he becomes my brother? Would
its seeming unlikelihood make Will even more miserable? And me, too?

I need to find another legitimising reason for making love to Will! Or is
mutual passion simply enough? Then the only questions would be, `When?' and
`Where?'



Chapter 17

Being a Saturday morning, I have come to the school to make my preparations
for the week. Will has opted to travel with Marty to the big town and help
with the groceries. He also felt that it was time for another haircut. I
had one last week while Will visited Karl and Kurt after which he looked a
little `shaggy' next to me, which hadn't bothered him prior to us getting
identical ones. Now he wants to look the same as me. Neat and tidy. Bless
him!

Will told me that he and the twins didn't have time to do much together
because Mr Andersen was there, but he did enjoy helping Karl, Kurt and
their dad with some general maintenance around the house. However, he also
told me, with a smirk, that they didn't exactly do nothing, either. They
managed to slip away for a walk upstream along the river and, in a secluded
spot, had some fun jacking each other off. Maybe when he said `didn't do
too much' he meant that they were only able to do it once.

With only a few days remaining in the term, my preparation is completed
quickly and I allow myself another brief nostalgic review of the past
months of my life.

I decide to wander over to the river. The first time that I came here it
was four days before the beginning of term. And, here I am, four days prior
to its end. It's a strange feeling. So much has happened.

It is an idyllic autumn morning, so different to the middle of summer when
I arrived here. The air is cooler without being cold and the sky is the
most brilliant of blues. The sunshine is neither hot nor ineffective. Just
perfect!

I sit on the same log that supported and concealed me when I first saw
Will, Karl and Kurt romping naked and aroused, playing their grabbing game
with each other.

The mid-summer bugs are now not as plentiful, and their previous droning
buzz is now a mere consoling murmur.

Knowing that there is nobody here, I allow my mind to take in and
concentrate on the scenery itself.

The river is flowing a little more gently than it was back then. With no
rain upstream, or here, the overflow has diminished in intensity. Although
the weir is full, the down-stream river level has dropped, probably by
about 30 cm. It's beginning to look more like a broad, shallow `stream'
than a river. Then I muse that the boys' secret place behind the spill-over
remains undisturbed.

I ponder that there is nothing green about this place, so different from my
home garden and the council-tended parks and recreation areas. The native
grasses here, whether by water deprivation or species, are brown. The river
water is muddy. The smooth majestic tree trunks are a sandy white, almost
grey, with old long strips of bark trailing from some remaining attachment
onto the ground below which is, itself, a thirsty reddish-grey colour. The
vertical strips remind me of the aerial roots of majestic rain forest fig
trees.

The leaves of the trees, the river eucalypts, are a nondescript blend of
silvery-grey and dusty green. The white swathes of exposed tree trunk look
as though someone has taken to them with a pencil and scribbled on them
with dark brown and yellowish lines. I understand now why they are called
`scribbly gums'. Trees on either side of the river stretch their branches
toward each other, as if to provide protection for the water below from
summer sun when it is fierce and, seemingly reaching out for a longing
embrace.

What a beautiful life - the scenery, the weather, the honest county folk,
and the boys, especially one (or three), and then there's Marty. What a
blessing it has been to be living in his haven from the world, and to
experience his `House Rule' of mutual secrecy!

Yes, the first term has been wonderful for me. I have settled well into
teaching. Anything that I didn't know about routines Jane has taught me. My
college notes have proved to be invaluable in preparing lessons and dealing
with little issues. There have been virtually no disciplinary problems, and
I count myself very lucky. The senior boys all work well together and have
taken a leaf out of Jane's book by helping the younger ones, receiving
encouragement and praise from me in return. Will's reading has really
improved with help from Jake, Kurt and Karl and, of course, from me at
home. It seems that he has overcome his self-consciousness at his delayed
development and both his skill and confidence have grown rapidly together.

It's comical that Will and I now really do look practically like twins -
same height, same hairstyle, same build, same voice (almost). On a couple
of occasions, some of the young ones have inadvertently called Will
`Sir'. On another occasion, Jake slapped me on the backside and said, "Come
on Willie, I can still beat you at marbles!" This was, of course, followed
by a look of absolute Kurt-like horror on Jake's face when he realised his
error. All I could do to put him at ease was to laugh, ruffle his hair and
say, "I'm sure that you can, Jake."

I try to contemplate life from Will's perspective. Three months ago, he was
`Little Willie', the butt of everybody's joke whether intended or not,
repeatedly sexually abused by his drunken, whorish mother, yet able to take
refuge at his cousin Marty's place when necessary. Secretly gay, in a
straight world! His only outlets have been teaching his 14 year old cousin,
Jake, to jack off and sharing those private moments with him, and then
there are adolescent romps and cock-grabbing games with the twins, Karl and
Kurt .

Then one day the new Schoolie, Thomas Grant, arrived - oddly similar
appearance to himself, a person who checked out Will's ample package at
first meeting and who was not afraid of physical contact - a person with
whom there was a mutual magnetism and with whom he could share his
secrets. But, best of all, the new `Schoolie' was willing to `get lucky'
with him, and a sexual rapport has developed, even though the two have not
gone all the way, nor even sucked each other. The two have created and
lived out, albeit in private, a big brother / little brother fantasy, with
the promise of a full-on loving and sexual relationship, as soon as the
Schoolie overcomes his fears and inhibitions that threaten his professional
standing and aspirations.

What a complicated life I lead!


It's now the Sunday prior to the rapidly-approaching end of term. Will and
I are at Marty's, which has become Will's home since his mother's house
burned down and she disappeared. As far as Chad was able to discern in his
police investigation from the few witnesses in town that day, Lilly was
seen riding with a muscular young biker late in the afternoon.  Another
said that he thought he heard multiple bikes at one stage, not long after
which it was noticed that her house was ablaze. There was no trace of her,
and the ashes indicated that most of her (meagre) possessions were
burnt. Her whereabouts remain a mystery although there is no evidence of
foul play, and the arson is an open case for the police - maybe it was a
parting gesture from Lilly, possibly with the help of her new friend,
perhaps with one or more associates.

Will and I are sitting on our beds opposite each other and just chatting as
we frequently do these days. While I am reclining against the wall, Will is
sitting forward, feet on the floor, forearms resting on his thighs, with
those blue eyes in his handsome face directed towards me. I mention in the
conversation that I am looking forward to going home for the two-week break
and I see his countenance take on a suddenly gloom, and his gaze drops from
me to his feet.

Then it hits me - Will is thinking that while I am living it up back on the
Gold Coast, he is going be left to virtually fend for himself again, only
worse this time. No father, no mother and seemingly abandoned by his 'big
brother', his new soul mate. His moodiness strikes a nerve. Have I
overlooked telling him of my intentions, although they were settled in my
mind weeks ago, even before the fire?

It takes me less than a moment to remedy the situation. "Will," I say
quietly. His eyes remain focussed on the floor, possibly anticipating the
dreaded talk that he thinks will start with `It'll be OK. I'll be back
before you know it!' His body heaves a deep sigh - not quite a sob, so I
urge a little more strongly, "Will!" Without moving his head, slowly his
water-filled eyes lift and peer at me from a totally broken-hearted
face. "Will, how would you like to come home with me to the Gold Coast for
the two weeks' holiday?"

"What?" he asks, as though my words were part of some dream from which he
has suddenly awoken. He repeats, "What did you say?" He blinks causing his
eyes to overflow, which indicates his current deep emotion. His cheeks are
streaked almost to his chin. The muscles around his eyes, nose and mouth
relax, and his countenance changes to a combination of shock, relief and
wonder as he raises his entire face towards at me, wide-eyed, mouth agape.

"Will, I believe that you and I are meant to be alongside each other, or
with one on top." LOL. He smiles broadly and nods. I add, "I don't think
that I could stand being away from you for two weeks. Would you come home
with me to the Gold Coast? Even though you're not my little brother, I'd
love to do all kinds of `brother' stuff with you as if you were. Teach you
to surf, go to the theme parks and we could go bike riding and to the
movies. We can share the driving and you might even get lucky. In fact, I
can guarantee it. What do you say?" I give him a very suggestive smirk,
raising my eyebrows up and down a couple of times.

Will jumps up, gives me a hug and rushes out of the bedroom door. I can
hear him in the kitchen, "Marty. Guess what? Mr Grant has asked me to go
with him for the holidays to meet his mum and dad and little sister. We are
gonna do stuff and he's gonna teach me to surf, and let me drive, and go to
the movies..."

"Whoa! Slow down, cuz!" Marty interrupts, giving Will a chance to
breathe. "That's fantastic." Then, being Marty, he cannot resist... "So
he's taking you home to meet the `rents, eh? And take you to the movies?
And will he buy you chocolates and flowers?" Will's face becomes
blank. Marty continues his roasting... "Is he gonna propose too?"

I appear just in time to hear Marty's jibe. Will and I nod to each other
then hit him with the only comment that is appropriate, "Fuck off, Marty!"

The seriousness on Will's face melts. Marty enjoys the humour of his
teasing, points to the expression on Will's face then bursts out
laughing. I join him. Soon it's a trio. If Marty only knew the truth! Or
does he?

Will heads outside whooping and hollering around the yard. The dogs join in
his excited yelping.

Marty says, "Tom, this is possibly the best thing that has ever happened to
the little guy. Thank you so much for caring and taking Will under your
wing. I don't know what he would have done if you hadn't turned up." Then
he adds, "and I want to thank you for the fun times that you and I have
shared. Do you think that William suspects anything?

"Marty, the pleasure has been all mine, believe me. And, if William
suspects anything, he has never said anything to me about it." I think to
myself, `he doesn't need to `think' anything - he knows! And he's OK with
it'.

Will returns, and Marty cannot resist going further, "Whatever is Jake
going to do without you around to give him a hand?"

Will gives a quick response, "No problem, Marty. It's OK. He knows how to
get by without me... now." There are smirks all round, then the laughing
resumes. We all know that we all know about Jake and Will jacking off
together.

I ponder that this is the first time I have ever heard Marty and Will
exchange any banter of a sexual nature or any innuendo. This is a real
plus, considering what might happen in Term 2 between me and each of
them. Having our relationships `out in the open' and covered by the `House
Rule' would be another burden lifted for me. Do I countenance any three-way
activity? No way! That's too much to even contemplate.


Now end-of-term wouldn't be complete without a party, would it? I've
decided that the children will work, as per the usual routine Monday thru
Wednesday. On Thursday, we will have a `fun morning' of indoor and outdoor
games, followed by a celebratory lunch and then a general `clean up'.


Monday morning. I put my plan to my `cherubs'. Everybody excitedly
agrees. Jane offers to coordinate the food and Jake says that he will
organise the games. These are two great kids that Reg and Di are raising!

Will cannot keep secret the fact that I've invited him to spend the
holidays with my parents. He doesn't say `with Mr Grant'. He is smart. I
think, given his circumstances, that everyone is happy for him.

Young David, who is normally a quiet lad, chirps up, "Gee, Mr Grant, I hope
that your mum and dad can tell which one of you is William and which one is
really you!" Everyone laughs.

I continue the joke with him, "Yes, David. Although it would be great if
they made William clean up my bedroom, make my bed every day and do the
dishes, instead of me, wouldn't it?" This evokes much giggling from the
little ones and some light-hearted jibes from the senior boys towards Will
about all the jobs that he could be given to do.

Karl, on a completely different level, comments quietly to me, just loud
enough for the other seniors to hear it, "I hope William doesn't try to
kiss your girlfriend, Mr Grant." Kurt Laughs. Nobody else understands
Karl's reference and his attempt at humour falls flat. However, without
making public comment, I move behind him, ruffle his hair and say in a
half-whisper, "Don't worry, Karl. That will never happen!" Will, hearing my
comment, smirks at me. I wink back.


Wednesday afternoon. Jane reminds everyone what they need to bring for
tomorrow's party. I encourage the children to take home any art and craft
work that they have done during the term, so that they won't be encumbered
tomorrow.

After a delicious meal at Marty's, Will and I are doing the dishes when I
hear the sound of a familiar old Land Rover even before the dogs start
barking. I look inquiringly at Will and then at Marty who says, "That will
be Reg and Jake."

Will and I both stare at him, waiting for some sort of explanation. He
adds, "I thought that my two young cousins might like to spend some time
together before William disappears for two weeks, so I drove out to Reg and
Di's for lunch and arranged for Reg to bring Jake down after dinner to stay
the night."

A huge grin spreads over Will's face as he looks at me for my assent to a
potential night of fun. I smile and nod. Then he turns to Marty and asks
the obvious, "Where's he gonna sleep?"

In my mind, and I am sure in Will's, there are only two possibilities.  One
is for me to give up my bed but I'm sure that Marty would not be so
connivingly obvious in getting me to sleep with him - especially with two
sexually-charged teenagers in the house.

"I think that there is only one solution. Don't you?" he asks, addressing
Will. "I'm afraid that you and Jake will have to suffer each other's
snoring and farting in my bed while I take your single in with Mr Grant,"
Marty says with his trade-mark knowing smirk.

It's what I was expecting, and exactly what Will would have wished for. He
looks at me. I nod again and give him our `H' sign. As the Land Rover
becomes silent, he dashes out to greet Reg and Jake.

The two boys rush through the door with Jake's bag, and head straight for
Marty's room. Reg follows at a more leisurely pace. I already have the jug
on for coffee and take out the Lemonade for the boys.

A half hour is spent in talking serious country matters. Reg and Marty
discuss snakes, the lack of rain and the price of diesel fuel. The boys
focus on the water temperature at the weir and who might snore the loudest
- the consensus is Marty! I silently contemplate how many tissues Will and
Jake will use tonight and what Marty might want to do with me.

Reg departs, admonishing Jake to be on his best behaviour. He says goodbye
to Will and shakes both Marty's hand and mine.

The boys spend scant time in feigning the need to turn in early `because we
have school tomorrow'.

I throw Jake a box of tissues. "Just in case you need to blow your nose
during the night," I grin. Jake blushes. Will winks. Marty smirks. The boys
disappear and close Marty's door.

"Well, this is an interesting development," I comment to Marty. "I wasn't
expecting this."

Marty replies, "The way I see it Tom, it's a win-win-win-win situation."
And he smirks. "This way, you and I get to spend some time together without
worrying about William catching us - he'll be too busy with Jake. He
wouldn't even think that we might be doing anything."

Then I muse, `as long as you want to think that, Marty, I'm happy with your
ignorance'.

"Arm wrestle?" Marty asks. "Loser gets to drop his gear first." I nod and
set myself up at the table. Marty joins me. "Go!" he says. It takes me all
of about two seconds after his initial resistance to get the better of
him. "Too good for me!" he smirks and immediately shucks everything, then
raises an eyebrow.

"In the bedroom, Marty! I don't want either of the boys to head out for a
pee and see the both of us like that - indicating his nakedness and
stiffness. He gathers his cut-offs and T-shirt and leads the way. His
erection gives a royal wave, bobbing from side to side as he walks.

As I follow Marty I hear a poorly-stifled squeal from Marty's room. Score:
Jake, one; Will, unknown.

I visit the bathroom, flush, brush my teeth and head in to join Marty,
closing the door behind me. Marty wastes no time in helping me to shed my
gear. His touch is stimulating and I am soon as hard as he is. He makes no
pretence about his intentions and drops to his knees, looking up at me. I
nod, close my eyes and tilt my head backwards in anticipation.

I feel his warm fingers running up and down my thighs and around to my
backside. All the while I can feel his hot breath only centimetres from my
groin. Then he cups my balls in his hand and I feel his tongue caressing
them. He licks up my cock, envelops my head and begins his
ministration. Not much foreplay! Straight into it! I can't help moaning at
the undeniably welcome pleasure that continues for a few minutes.

"Stop!" I tell him. "I don't want to cum so soon." We swap places and I
take a little more time exploring his body than he did with me. When I
finally take his shaft into my mouth, he lets out a long, low groan. I pull
off him. "On the bed!" I command.

He lays himself on Will's bed on his back, knees bent, feet apart. I crawl
between them and continue pleasuring him while he massages my
scalp. "Getting close ... 69," he says breathily.

I reposition myself with one knee either side of his head. He lowers his
knees and I lean forwards to resume my sucking of him, pausing briefly to
savour the moment as he takes me into his mouth. "Cumming," he soon warns,
probably expecting me to pull off him.

Instead, I ensure that he has not a single drop to mop up, swallowing
everything that erupts from his pulsing rod.

"OMG," he says. "I didn't think that you would do that! Well, if you can
manage it, so can I." He resumes. My moaning and tensing body alert
him. It's weird that, as I spurt, I think of Will and imagine it's him
drinking my sweet and sticky nectar.

Suddenly I hear the toilet flush on the other side of the wall. "Do you
think they heard us?" I ask Marty.

"Does it matter?" he replies. "We both know what they are doing."

"Marty, I don't want my students to know that their teacher is having sex
with their cousin."

"Even if they did, they'd never tell. House Rule!" Marty reminds me.

After we both calm down, I go to my own bed and lie, staring at the
ceiling, hoping that it was Will and not Jake.

"Tom?" Marty says quietly. "Can I ask you something, personal?"

"I suppose so, Marty, after what we've just enjoyed together." I reply.

"Yes, but it's not about you and me," he continues with some obvious
hesitancy.

"What is it Marty?" I'm curious. Surely he's not going to ask about me and
his sister, Anna!

"Tom, this is hard to say, and please don't be offended, but... has William
ever tried to hit on you?"

Well, he has floored me! Do I answer him honestly? Can I afford to rat on
Will and also, thereby, incriminate myself? What would that say for my
professional standing with my other students? Then I contemplate my fun
with Karl and Kurt. I'm not exactly innocent in that regard, am I?

Maybe it's my lack of response and stunned silence that causes Marty to
continue. "I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to imply anything. It's just
that... I've seen the way he looks at you. And he always likes to stand
really close to you and hangs off your every word - much the same way as my
sister used to fawn over him. Knowing him the way I do and how you've been
so open with me, I can't imagine that he hasn't suggested or, perhaps, even
tried doing something with you!"

And, I've never seen you get angry with him, or try to keep him at a
distance. You are a very accepting, magnetic person, Tom.

`OK, Thomas,'I tell myself. `Let's see you get out of this one!' I take a
deep breath.

"You know, Marty, you are partially right," I begin. He looks at me,
perhaps anticipating some revelationary confession. However, while I
determine not to lie to him, I just won't tell him the whole truth, either.

"I've taken a liking to young William. My sympathy for his plight turned
into compassion and care the more I came to understand him and his
needs. You, yourself, told me about how Lilly treated him, and then there
was that whole `Little Willie' thing. I've enjoyed teaching him to
read. You told me that he would be grateful and I know that he is. And, I
wish that you could have seen his face when Chad presented him with his
Driver's Licence. And yes, he hugs me and stuff sometimes to show his
appreciation. Perhaps it's the only way he knows how. He seems a pretty
tactile kind of person. And I don't have a problem with that."

"And we look so much alike! He even pretends sometimes that I'm his big
brother. You know, Marty, if I was his brother instead of his teacher, I
could probably allow myself to be a little more physical with him."

Nothing that I have said is untrue. I just wonder how Marty will interpret
it.

Marty replies, "Tom, I know he's comfortable with you, even being in the
same bedroom. It's obvious. So long as you are comfortable with him, then
I'm OK with the arrangement. I hadn't foreseen him permanently bunking in
with you, when you first arrived. I just don't want you to feel uneasy
about it. It's so great to see him so happy. I don't remember him being
like this since he was a little kid. He's really come out of his shell with
you around."

"And, just so you know, if the two of you ever did want to be friendlier,
if you know what I mean, I wouldn't have a problem with that. And I know
that you'll be gentle with him."

Well, if ever there was to be a `go for it' imprimatur, that sure sounds
like it to me!

"Thanks, Marty. I appreciate your trust. But, at the moment I'm happy
having a bit of occasional man-fun with you." That is the truth. "However,
if William wanted to do something like that, I'm not sure how I'd respond."
That's a lie, and I know it!

"But, Marty, please don't mention anything to him. I don't want you putting
those ideas into his head." `You're too late,' I think to myself.

The toilet flushes again. Score? Who knows? Just lots of `runny noses'! I
already know what Will is capable of achieving in 24 hours! LOL.


Thursday. Game day. Party day. Clean up day. End of term. The children's
spirits are high all day - through Jake's games, through the party, and
even through the clean up. Not that there's much to do that isn't done at
the end of each week - it's part of another well-organised and
well-executed routine.

It's only with everything done that any trace of nostalgic regret is
evident. Not from Jane - she is going to spend some time with her friend in
the big town. No, it's the boys who show the emotion. Not for the end of
term, but for being left without Will to brighten their lives, probably for
the first time ever! I know that the twins will spend some time with their
dad. I'm not sure what Jake will do.

It's time. Those children who can see their parents' cars at the pub I
allow to walk over to them. I'm sure that they don't drink and drive - a
lime juice over crushed ice with some sparkling mineral water would get my
vote.

Will heads off with Karl and Kurt and I tell them that I will come over and
get him when I'm ready, being careful, of course, to allow them a bit of
fun time together.

Reg arrives to pick up Jane and Jake and hands me a small hamper of
`goodies' from Di for me and Will to enjoy on our journey. As brother and
sister clamber into the Land Rover, Reg holds back. "You know, Tom, the
kids all love you. You're really a special person and an answer to our
prayers." I look at him with a little confusion. "Jake has loved coming to
school this term." I would not have thought otherwise. Hmm. The taming of
Tarzan! What a great title for a story! Haha! I contemplate the family's
country hospitality and generosity. Reg shakes my hand profusely. Is that a
tear in his eye? Why? How could I have made such a difference in their
lives? Or Jake's?

I close up and lock the gate this time, to keep out the marauding animals
(LOL), and drive over to Karl and Kurt's. We say our goodbyes with
hugs. Kurt hangs on to me for what seems an inappropriately long
time. Perhaps he's prolonging my open palm patting his backside.

I hand Will his P-plates and tell him that he can drive for the first two
hours and then I will take over until we reach the motel.

"Motel?" he asks.

"Yeh," I reply. "The trip is far too long for a single journey." I can
already see the wheels turning in his head - probably nothing that I
haven't already contemplated myself.

We start off, to the cheers of the twins. Will waves and toots the
horn. I'm sure that he would love to be driving Sean's ambulance and to
turn on the siren.

As smart as he is, it is obvious that Will has very little experience in,
or even the concept of distance and time except, maybe, for the return trip
to big town. It is only when I put it to him that to get from here to my
parents' place is like going back and forth to big town five or six time
without stopping that he shows a glimmer of understanding. However, at the
moment, I think his mind is focussed on getting lucky at the motel.

It takes a while for him to relax behind the wheel. It's only after we pass
Reg and Di's property and he reminds me, "That's Jake's place," that he
settles into driving with some ease, commenting on birds and animals and
vegetation - almost like he is giving me a lesson in local flora and fauna!

It's a perfect opportunity, apart from filling in the time, to check where
his mind is in relation to a number of things. I start with something that
I think will be easy.

"Did you have fun with Jake last night?" I deliberately don't ask about him
`getting lucky'.

"Yeh! It was great of Marty to organise for him to come down."

"Why do you think Marty did that?" I ask in all innocence, but hoping that
he might go into a bit of detail.

"Probably so that he could be alone with you, I reckon," he says with a
smirk.

"What do you mean, Will?" His statement has put me instantly on the
defensive!

"Hey, what did I tell you, Tom? I notice things. Not to mention the noises
that you two were making!" He glances at me quickly, then turns back to the
road. His smirk is now a broad grin.

"What?" I ask again.

"After Jake and I had `blown our noses' I took the tissues to the toilet. I
had to pee anyway. That wall must be thinner that I thought because I was
able to tell the difference between his voice and yours. It sounded like
you got one hell of a blow job. Hey, I know what you sound like now when
you spurt, you know!"

"Will!" I exclaim. "How long were you listening?"

"Long enough," is all that he says. Then he adds, with almost a hint of
sadness, "I'm happy for you Tom. But how come you won't do that with me?"

He's got me. "You know why, Will. It's the teacher / student thing. It's
not that I don't want to, it just..."

He cuts me off. "Tom, I don't get it - after the things that we've already
done. What difference would it make?"

I can't help but worry. "Will, I'm really sorry! And you know that Marty
and I have mucked around a bit, just like I know about you and Jake." Then
I add, "...and Karl and Kurt. Are you upset with me, or mad at me?"

"No, Tom. I'm not upset, just confused. I'd love to do that with you and
have you do that to me. Jake won't. I've asked him. I really want to know
what it's like. You and Marty certainly made it sound like great fun!

I'm feeling really bad. I don't know whether it's pity for Will or for the
satisfaction of my own lust, but I'm conceding defeat. I'm done with
fighting it. What's only more level of intimate action with the guy who
wants me? The guy who says he needs me and loves me? The guy with whom I
want to do `everything' anyway?

I have no defence. Forget self-control! That went weeks, maybe months, ago!

"OK, Will. You win. I'm giving in. Tonight. You and me. Our first blow job
together!

"About bloody time!" he yells.

I have to remind him to watch the road to ensure that we both get to the
motel alive.

He stares at the road. I stare at him. He is a picture of angelic
manhood. The only things missing are the wings and the halo. His beaming
smile tells me that I've `done good'. He is the epitome of happiness at
this moment. It's a pity that he can't see and paint himself like this.

I take out my phone, select the camera app and take some pics.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asks.

"I want to remember your face at this moment." He is glowing. Then I think,
`what's he gonna be like when we actually do it? Wow!

With the impending thrill of the night before us, and the very obvious
chunking in both of our jeans, it's difficult to think of much
else. However, I do try to distract Will's thinking as much as possible,
drawing his attention to the road and to points of interest.

After I take over the driving, our discussions continue. Will volunteers
his feelings on many subjects, including the thrill of `finding' me, and
how alike we look - haircuts, clothes, face, body. LOL. And then there was
the thrill when he got his Driver's Licence!

He comments on his excitements at getting lucky with Karl and Kurt and
being the one to show them how to `spunk'.

He doesn't leave out his fun with Jake either, nor his love of Marty, for
taking him in and allowing him some privacy with me. Does Marty suspect
anything? It's a subject that has crossed both of our minds.

Surprisingly, Will even shares his mixed feelings about his mother - how
she looked after him when he was little, her abuse of him as he grew, her
drinking, her men and, finally her abandonment of him.

Then, with about 15 minutes remaining before we arrive at the motel, I hear
something that I could never have anticipated.

"You know, Tom, Mum didn't talk much about my dad. Maybe she really didn't
know much else except that he had a big willie and that he was a famous
photographer... so she claimed!" He adds these last words with an obvious
disdain for Lilly's disposition for drunken exaggerations, much like her
last boast about her new protective Harley-rider friend!

Suddenly, the penny drops in my mind!

OMG! That photographer! Of course! I recall the exhibition that I attended
with my high school art class when I was about 13. The iconic country
pub. The river gums and the sunsets. The old shack.

OMG. I now clearly realise the cause of all my episodes of déjà vu!
My chin and bottom lip start to quiver, almost uncontrollably, and I feel
my eyes in the early stages of welling up with tears. I cover my mouth as I
start to choke up and ask Will for a tissue `to get some bloody dust out of
my eyes'.

My heart is pounding. For once Lilly had it right. His is world famous!

Should I tell Will now, or not?

OMG. I know who Will's father is!



To be concluded...

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