Date: Mon, 22 Nov 2004 06:07:26 +0000 (GMT)
From: Veneration <veneration2003@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Whangaroa Part 2

The standard disclaimer applies. If you don't want to, don't. If you
shouldn't, don't. If you do want to, what the hell, go for it.

Comments are welcome to veneration2003@yahoo.co.uk.


Whangaroa
By Veneration

Part 2
Chapter 5

The next day was similar to the previous one. We sailed to a sheltered
beach to spend the day. Henry and I took every chance for physical contact
and to see each other naked. But mostly importantly, we started to become
friends. Was I horny and impatient for sex? Sure I was, I had just as many
raging sex hormones as the next teen, but I could wait as I expected our
friendship to lead to sex. I didn't know, of course, whether Henry expected
or wanted sex, or whether he thought that we were just developing an
intense, but non- sexual, friendship. Our conversations were light and
relaxed, with none of the important stuff we probably should have
discussed. Hey, we were teen males, what do you expect?  We don't do deep,
personal conversations. Our day together was a time of courtship, which I
was happy to let develop at its own pace.

What about the adults and the rest of the families? We had to maintain a
certain amount of discretion, but otherwise they were peripheral background
noise that I was barely aware of. As for Larry, his presence could have
been an unwelcome distraction, but he spent his time pursuing Iris, or was
it the Snow Queen who was chasing him?

The following day a strong wind was blowing, resulting in rough seas
outside Whangaroa Harbour. The fathers decided to have a day's sailing
inside the harbour, where it was more sheltered. At least, that was what
the mothers decided they would decide.

Captain Manley paced the deck of the navy frigate, no . his China clipper,
no, . it was a frigate. The ship had left the stormy weather so often found
in the Bay of Biscay and was entering the trade winds.

'We are making good progress,' he mused, then fell to thinking about the
new cabin boy.

He was a handsome lad who Studs thought would do very nicely to help while
away the long nights.

Several weeks later, after encountering and sinking a much larger and more
powerful enemy ship in a fierce battle, the ship slowly and carefully
approached the African coast, towards a large river that emerged from the
dense jungle.

'Raise the centreplate,' Studs Manley ordered as the ship entered shallow
water.

Um, no . that's not right. Frigates don't have centreplates.

I climbed down into the cabin to winch up the centreplate as we entered the
Whangaroa River, at the head of the harbour. The river was relatively wide,
but rapidly became very shallow as it wound its way through the
trees. Keelboats were not able to enter these waters. Our progress ended in
a deep pool, which the river entered over steep rapids. A road skirted the
pool and on the other side of the road there was a general store in an old
stone building.

We had our lunch on the rocks alongside the rapids. Holiday makers, who
stopped to look at the river or to visit the store, peered at the yachts
anchored in the pool and at our group eating our lunch, rather as if we
were one of the local tourist attractions on display. It was a most
peculiar situation, considering that we were used to being in places much
more private with no ready road access. I wondered whether the tourists
would throw us some peanuts if I leapt up and down, made loud monkey
noises, and scratched my armpits and balls.

"Perhaps we should give a tin cup to one of the girls, fasten a chain
around her neck, and lead her around the tourists," I suggested. "I'm sure
they would give lots of money to the performing monkey."

If looks could freeze, the female contingent's glare would not only have
frozen my balls, they would have shattered into pieces.

"Maurice, behave yourself," Dad scolded.

"Speaking of performing monkeys, how did you like University this year?"
Coarse Kev asked.

Nice one, Coarse Kev, that was a tactful comment in more ways than I could
possibly count.

"Oh, it was fine."

What wasn't so fine was that I was now trapped into one of those polite,
meaningless, adult chit-chat conversations.

"Good. What subject are you majoring in?"

"History."

As if I hadn't told Coarse Kev a million times before.

"Good, I'm sure that will be very, um, useful. You could become a teacher
or something, eh?" And having done his duty, Coarse Key turned away to talk
to Helen the Toy.

Oh please, not likely, but at least that appeared to be over.

"It's time for an ice-cream before we return down river," my father
announced and we all trooped off to the store.

"It's too bad you were told off," Henry murmured. "I thought the performing
monkey thing was pretty funny."

"That's the way it goes," I replied. "TANJ"

"What?"

"TANJ. There aint no justice."

Henry looked blank for a moment, until he worked it out, then he
grinned. "Hey, that's clever."

"Thanks. I'd like to take the credit for it, but I can't as it was thought
up by Larry Niven."

"Who's he?"

"What, you don't know who Larry Niven is? You need educating, boy. He
writes some great science fiction. I'll loan you one of his books to read
when we get back home."

"That would be cool, thanks," said Henry happily.

I felt sure that our friendship would continue after the holiday. It was
becoming too important to let it fade away, in spite of the difficulties
with a nineteen year old being friends with a boy six years his junior. Of
course, some sex would be nice, too.



Chapter 6

The day had been a frustrating one as Henry and I had not been able to
continue with the intimacy that had developed between us. We had been
either under the close eye of his father while sailing, or with the whole
group. In order to get some time alone with him, I suggested to Henry after
dinner that we go for a walk up the hill at the end of the bay.  Henry
agreed enthusiastically.

"I think I might come with you," said Anne, who had overheard us.

"Oh, I don't think you will want to do that," I immediately responded.

Anne began to look stubborn. "Why not? I AM coming on the walk."

Oops, that was a bad move. Anne had caught me unawares and I had replied
before thinking of the best way to discourage her.

"I think that's a very good idea that the two of you go for a walk," said
Mum. "It would be nice if you spend some more time with your sister,
Morrie."

Blast, couldn't a person have a private conversation around here? I knew
that there was nothing that I could do about it after that.

As we walked out of the door, Henry whispered, "I wish Anne wasn't coming
with us."

"Same here. TANJ."

"TANJ," he repeated, with a laugh.

The path we were taking went from the end of the road to the base of the
hill, then up to the top. At the top of the hill, it lead to a lookout over
the entrance to Whangaroa Harbour and out to sea. As we walked, Anne
prattled on about Iris this, and Iris that, and Iris the other.

Studs Manley had been tortured before, but never broken under the
interrogation. But this time the secret police, who were trying to extract
the allies' invasion plans, were using a particularly fiendish torture
weapon. Studs was afraid that this time he was going to crack.

"Look," I finally said, as we reached the top of the hill. "You want to be
careful about admiring the Snow Queen too much. You might end up turning
into a regular Ice Princess yourself and that would be a fate worse than
death. And if she's so fantastic, why aren't you with her now so that you
can kiss her arse some more?"

Anne was silenced and her eyes started to fill with tears. The Snow Queen
had probably got rid of Anne so that she could be with Larry, but there is
no point in being cruel if you don't aim at a vulnerable target. What I
wanted was to be alone with Henry.

"Who's the Snow Queen?" Henry asked.

Oops. "Um ."

"The Snow Queen is Maurice's nickname for Iris. He calls your family the
'Family from Hell' and he's got nicknames for all of you," Anne
interrupted.

Oops. The situation was starting to look a little dangerous and some fast
thinking was called for.

"Oh. What's your nickname for me?" Henry asked me.

"I don't have one, of course. Anne's just making up stuff."

Crap, was that all I could come up with? I frowned at Anne warningly,
pleadingly, with a promise of bribes to come. If she had been at all
interested in the message I was trying to convey, she would have been
thoroughly confused.

"Go on, Maurice, tell Ratty what you call him," and with a malicious smirk,
Anne triumphantly stalked back down the hill.

Shit.

"You call me Ratty?" Henry's voice was small and cold.

"No, of course not. Not that."

"So you do have a nickname for me. What is it, then?"

"Um, well, actually it's Rat Boy. But you know me, I just say all sorts of
shit, it doesn't mean anything."

"You call me Rat Boy? Why? I thought you liked me."

Henry's voice sounded hurt and his face was pale and miserable. There was a
hint of moisture in his eyes as he turned and started to walk away.

Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Henry, I'm sorry. I do like you, heaps, and I don't call you that any
more."

I hurried after him and held his arm, but he shook it free. I put my arm
around his shoulders, but he shrugged it off and continued walking.

"Piss off," he commanded.

I wrapped my arms around Henry and held him to me, as he struggled to get
away.

"Henry, stop. We can't leave it like this. We've got to talk, we've got
to."

Henry stopped struggling, but he stood rigid and unyielding in my arms.

"But I've always liked you, I've always thought you were cool." He didn't
look at me, but spoke into my chest.

"Oh, Henry, I'm so not cool. I was never cool at school and I'm not cool
now at University. You know I'm a bad-mouth. Sometimes I'm just not a very
nice person at all and I say nasty things. I think they're clever, but
sometimes they aren't. I'm so sorry, the last thing I want to do is to hurt
you."

Henry remained rigid in my arms for a few minutes, then I felt the tension
leave his body and he leant against my chest.

"But why Rat Boy?" he asked plaintively.

"I've never disliked you, but when you were a little kid I was too full of
my own importance to really notice you. And you were pretty skinny and, to
be honest, you did look a little bit like a drowned rat."

Henry muttered in protest.

"So when I was giving nicknames to your family, I'm afraid yours was Rat
Boy, but I didn't mean anything by it. Then when I saw you these holidays,
I thought you looked very cute and you stopped being Rat Boy."

"Cute?" he said with the rising tone that meant 'Boys aren't cute, that's
girlie stuff.'

"No, not cute. I meant a handsome young man. A spunk."

"A spunk?"

"Yes. You do know what spunk is, don't you?"

"Of course," he replied, slightly indignantly.

"Oh yes? And exactly how do you know about spunk, then?"

Henry looked up at me. He had a hint of a smile. Not much of a smile, but
it was there.

"I'm not a little kid any more, you know."

"Oh, I know that." I leered at him. "Does that mean you're a little wanker,
then?"

Henry jabbed me sharply in the ribs.

"Ouch."

"So are you a big wanker, then?"

"Yes, I am," I admitted. "And sometimes I'm a big wanker in several
meanings of the word. I do care about you a lot, you know."

Henry's smile widened a little. "Yes, I know." He paused, then, "But why
are we the Family from Hell?"

"Oh, that. Well, to be frank, your sister is something of a bitch."

"Well, yes, that's true."

"And your parents do fight a lot. In the presence of others."

"They do," Henry admitted. "I wish they wouldn't so much. What about me?"

"You were always a nice kid, it was only guilt by association."

Henry sighed and rested his head against my chest again, and loosely
wrapped his arms around my waist. My nose and mouth nestled in his hair.

"I always thought your family was nice."

"Hah, maybe from the outside. On the inside it is a nasty vicious family,
filled with horrible people. Except for me, of course, I'm the nice one."

Henry laughed. "You're the one who's not nice," he retorted.

I kissed Henry on the forehead and, when he looked up at me, on those sweet
kissable lips. Henry jerked his head away in surprise, then hesitantly,
almost gravely, he returned his mouth to mine. I nibbled on his lips, I
caressed and explored his lips with my tongue, all the time aware of his
eyes wide open in astonishment. Henry had never thought of kissing anyone
like that, let alone that it would be with another boy.

Henry moaned, tightened his arms around me, and then, like a timid animal
being coaxed out of its den, his tongue met mine. As our tongues explored,
I moved a hand down to his bum and pulled him against me. I could feel
Henry's erection hard against my thigh and I was sure that he could feel
mine against his lower belly. I gently humped him, thrusting my hard-on
against his body.

Suddenly Henry's body stiffened for a moment, then he shuddered. He broke
off our kiss and buried his head against my chest.

"No, no, I don't believe I did that," he groaned.

"Sweetie, what is it?"

Henry shook his head in denial.

"You don't," I hesitated at the horrid thought, "you don't think that we
should stop doing this?"

"No, of course not," he replied in a distressed voice. "It's just that,
it's just that, well .  I've spunked my pants. Morrie, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, honey, it's nothing to be sorry about. Well, I'm a little bit sorry I
didn't get to see it happen, but maybe next time."

Henry raised his head and looked up at me.

"There will be a next time, wont there?" I asked.

"But I'm just a dumb kid who messes his pants." Henry smiled, just a
little.

Being with Henry was turning into an emotional rollercoaster, but I didn't
think I'd have it any other way.

"Well, yes you are, but at least it means that I must turn you on, just a
bit."

Henry grinned. "A very, very little bit, maybe." He pressed his body
against mine. "You're still hard."

"Yes, I am," I admitted. "I'll have to take care of it later."

"You can take care of it now, if you like."

"What, jerk off in front of you?"

Henry shrugged and tried to look casual. "I don't mind."

My heart began to beat faster. I didn't mind either.

I put on a fake concerned look. "I wouldn't want to shock you."

"I wont be shocked," Henry reassured me with a grin.

"Or corrupt an innocent young lad."

"Oh that's OK, you can corrupt me."

I laughed. "What a dirty boy you are."

I let go of the boy and stepped back. I undid the fly of my shorts, pulled
them and my underpants to my feet and stepped out of them. I straightened
up and my erection jutted urgently to the sky. Henry stared hungrily at
it. I grasped my cock and started to stroke it, watching Henry's flushed
face and slightly open mouth as he focused on what I was doing.  I let go
of my cock and it quivered, desperate for release.

"Do you want to do it?"

"Oh, yes," Henry whispered and, reaching forward to hold my erection, he
began to wank me.

I had already been highly excited, but the sight and feel of Henry's soft
hand around my cock was too much and after just 3-4 strokes, I came.

"Yuk, you spunked over my hand," he complained.

Well, what did he think was going to happen? I grasped his hand, raised it
to my mouth, and licked my cum off his hand."

"Gross, how revolting."

"It's lovely," I replied, licking my lips. "Here, you try some."

I began to move Henry's hand towards his mouth. He protested, laughing,
trying keep his hand away and shaking his head from side to side.

"You're such a wimp," I told him, "but next time."

I raised his hand back to my mouth and thoroughly licked it clean. I
finished by lovingly sucking and licking each finger. Henry stood,
wide-eyed, as I made love to his hand. I folded Henry back into my arms, he
wrapped his arms around me and we hugged in peace.  The passion might be
gone for now, but the love was strong.

After a while, Henry stirred. "I'm going to have to go and change my
pants. It's all wet and cold and sticky down there."

"It's probably a good idea," I agreed. "A mosquito has just bit me on the
arse."

Henry giggled. "Let me get it for you," he offered and he slapped me
sharply on the bum cheek.

"Ouch," I complained.



Chapter 7

It was dark by the time we returned to the baches. As we got closer, we
could see two figures approaching the buildings from the other
direction. One was Iris, who disappeared into the girls' bunkroom, and the
other was Larry, who entered the communal living area.  Harry went to get
changed, while I followed Larry and paused in the doorway.

Everyone was there. My parents were looking stern, the Grouch was looking
unhappy, and Coarse Kev and Helen the Toy were off to one side, interested
but uninvolved. The girls were sitting at the table, playing cards. The
Palmer girls weren't paying any attention to the adults, but Anne had
looked up to see what was going on.

"Where is Iris, Larry?" Dad demanded.

"Dunno."

"Well then, where have you been?"

"Out for a walk," Larry muttered.

"Oh? You were with Iris, weren't you?"

I moved from the doorway into the room. "No, he wasn't. He was with me."

Everyone turned towards me. My family, in particular, looked surprised; my
parents at the thought of my going on a walk with Larry; Anne because Larry
had been nowhere in sight when she had been with me; and Larry because he
knew very well that I was lying.

"I thought you went for a walk with Anne and Henry," Mum said.

"Yes, but they split pretty early. Then I met Larry, so we went for a walk
to the shop."

"That seems most unlike you," Dad commented.

"Perhaps, but we decided to have an argument."

"An argument about what?" he asked.

"About anything. We haven't had a good argument for days and I've missed
being able to tell Larry what an idiot he is. I need to keep him in his
place, you know"

It was Mum's turn to take over the interrogation. "Do you need to go on a
walk to do that?"

"Well, we didn't want to disturb everyone else."

"That's never stopped you before," she replied.

"Oh, that's with family. It doesn't matter with just family. But with
non-family present that would be rude, so we decided to go somewhere
private." My eyes flicked briefly towards the Grouch and Mum looked a
little uncomfortable at the implied criticism.

My parents were suspicious, as they knew there was something fishy going
on, but their attention had been diverted from what Larry had been doing
and, for that matter, what Henry and I had been doing. With that, the
interrogation lapsed.

The Grouch was still unhappy. Well, he was always unhappy, I meant
unhappier than usual. He was worried about his daughter's virtue and what
Larry might be doing with it.  If only he knew that he should also be
worrying about his son's virtue and what the other Morrison boy was doing
with it.

Later, on our way to the bunkroom, Larry rested his hand on my
shoulder. "Thanks, bro."

"No sweat, but now you owe me big time."

"Not likely," he retorted as he poked me in the ribs and pushed his way in
front of me into the bathroom.


TO BE CONTINUED ...