Date: Sat, 24 Dec 2005 06:52:19 +0000 (GMT)
From: Mike Arram <mikearram@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Henry in the Outfield 11

This is my fifth gay erotic novella on Nifty.  The four earlier ones
chronicle -- in different ways -- episodes in the same love affair: They
are, in order: 'The Decent Inn' and 'Terry and the Peachers' in the Nifty
archive under the College section; 'The Heart of Oskar Prinz' in
Beginnings, and 'The Chav Prince' in High School.  This, however, is a very
different kind of story.  But different though it is, I have to confess
that I went under to the temptation to include some earlier characters of
whom I am particularly fond.  Nevertheless this is the story of Henry and
Edward, who, as Justin unkindly says, may sound like refugees from Thomas
the Tank Engine, but they aren't.
  The story contains graphic depictions of sex between young males.  If the
reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your place of
residence please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further.
If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so.

XI

It was the first free day in Strelzen, a Saturday.  'Any plans ... no, I
needn't ask, Henry, I can see the sheaf of markers in your Fodors.'
  'She knows you too well, Henry,' smiled Ed.
  'Perhaps you can go with Dad to look over the church first?  He'll be
ready at ten, he's meeting Mr Neave the warden and Mr Vincent the Director
of Music.  I'm sure he'd like a bit of company.  Besides, if you're in the
passenger seat, Henry, there's a chance he won't get lost'
  'OK, but we're not staying.  We'll have lunch in the city centre and be
back at five, OK Mum?'
  Dad was in his collar, and had an anxious look on him.  Henry could not
but ask him what was up.
  'Oh, it's this church.  It's a bit on the ritualist side.  I should have
realised: the diocese of Europe can be very high church.  But I've never
done the intoning thing, and I'm not sure about all the ritual stuff.  They
didn't do it at my college.  I'm going to make an idiot of myself.'
  'Buck up, Dad,' Henry grinned.  'It can't be as bad as Games.'
  'So Mr Vincent is coming to run through the service with me and give me a
few lessons in the singing.'
  'Perhaps he could give me some lessons too, while he's at it.'
  His Dad looked sadly at him, 'No Henry, we don't do miracles in the
Church of England.'  Henry was a little offended.
  The church of St Edward the Confessor was a surprise: a genuine medieval
church taken over from the Catholic archdiocese of Strelzen, situated in
Klimentstrasse, a narrow street in Novomesten, within the old walls and not
far from the Parlementplaz.  There was a cobbled parking space for the
clergy.
  Ed and Henry were happy to go in and have a look round.  The church was
high and vaulted, with an apsidal end.  The altar had been moved down into
the nave, and there were few original fittings, though the pulpit looked
eighteenth century.  Some old wall plaques piqued Henry's interest, but the
inscriptions were in Rothenian and indecipherable.  Ed was patiently
leafing through the parish magazine when the door opened behind them.
  'Er ... hi,' said a young man, 'I'm looking for the Reverend Atwood, you
anything to do with him?'
  'I'm his son,' said Henry, 'Are you Mr Vincent?'
  'That's me, and the name's Will.'
  'Hi, I'm Henry and this is Ed, a friend of mine.'  They shook hands
rather formally.  Henry sized up the director of music.  He was not what he
had expected.  He was maybe in his mid twenties, tall, and quite something
to look at.  Good looking to the point of smouldering, yet at the same time
curiously shy, or coy even.  His hair and eyes were dark, and he clearly
worked out.
  Dad came out of the vestry with Mr Neave at that point, and there was a
further round of introductions, Ed and Henry receded into the background,
and stayed for a while watching Mr Vincent putting Dad through his paces.
He seemed to play the piano a bit, and got Dad doing scales, before he ran
through the mass settings for him.
  Henry sensed Ed was getting bored.  So they gave an abstracted Dad a half
wave and left.  'OK Henry the Navigator, where to now?'  Ed was clearly
excited at having such a magnificent city to explore.
  'We're spoiled for choice.  The university's that way, and the
Radhausplaz, with the Tarlenheim Palace and the Jewish museum is that way.
Since we've got to get lunch, we'd better head into town, and that means
the Radhausplaz.  Follow your Henry.'
  'How's your bum, little babe?'
  'Er ... if I tell you, will you promise not to get all guilty?'
  'Solemnly.'
  'Then it hurts like fuck,' confirmed Henry.  Ed looked guilty.  'I said
you weren't supposed to get all guilty!'
  'Well, I can't help feeling I pushed you into it.'
  'OK, it was an experiment too far, but there were two parties involved,
and I don't recall protesting at the suggestion.  Lighten up, Ed.'
  They began walking, crossing a broad tree-lined avenue and dodging past
the red trams.  'Lindenstrasse', announced Henry, 'Not lost so far.'  They
crossed a few blocks of narrow streets and were suddenly confronted by the
massive medieval tower of the Radhaus, the town hall of the New City.  They
paid thirty krona and climbed the 365 steps.  The view over the square and
the city was worth the money and the climb.  Ed took a picture of Henry on
his mobile, and then Henry reciprocated.  They sent them with a text to
their sixth form mates.
  'Where are they all?' Henry asked.
  'Westenra's in the States, Peters is in the Maldives, Ahmed's back with
the family in Pakistan, hopefully not going through an arranged marriage.'
  'Interesting life our colleagues lead isn't it?'
  'Yeah, but I wouldn't give up what we've got going for their lives,
little babe.'
  'You say the sweetest things Ed.'
  They spent a while orientating themselves from the tower's viewing
gallery.  It was one of those glorious days when the air has almost a blue
tinge, as if the distance is being viewed through a clear sapphire.  The
towers, domes and the spires of Strelzen were hard edged in the crystalline
air.  The friendly city noises drifted up to them from below, and were
infinitely seductive to Henry, as a boy brought up in the silence of the
deep country.
  Henry pointed out the direction of their ultimate target, which was the
shopping centre.  'We can get lunch there.  And we're going to go by tram.
We're gonna be here for a month, so the sooner we conquer the tram system
the quicker we'll get round.  Down in the square is a stop for Route 14:
it'll have the direction 'Dom' on the front, cos it goes to the cathedral,
but it goes along Mikhelstrasse, which is where the shops and malls are.'
  'And have you worked out tickets, dear Henry?'
  'You've gotta go to one of those little kiosks that sell cigarettes and
coke and stuff, and buy a day pass: only 60kR, that's under two quid, a
total bargain.'
  '... and you do this in what language?'
  'Allegedly, English is spoken generally amongst the populace, dear
Edward.  Once we have the pass, we stamp it on a little machine on the
tram, and that's it, we're off.'
  'Could not be simpler then, could it?'
  It was simple, although they had to repeat their request to the kiosk
person several times till he got it, and it turned out that their Fodors
was out of date and the pass was now 70kR, '...still a bargain,' Henry
insisted.  They awaited a no 14 for ten minutes in front of the looming
facade of the Tarlenheim Palace, and Henry read out what the guide book had
to say, how it was still a private house belonging to the princes of
Tarlenheim, who had recently recovered it from the state.  'Pity,' Henry
regretted, 'it's not open to the public, and look at the pictures of the
interior, it's full of art and grand state rooms.  You'd think the family
would need the tourist money.'
  The tram when it came was one of the old type, from which you could hop
on and off.  There was a lady conductor issuing tickets, and she inspected
theirs, saying something incomprehensible, and when they shrugged and
replied that they couldn't understand her, she got a little cross, and
started jabbing her finger down the tram.
  'Are we in the wrong seats or what?' asked Ed.
  'Dunno.  Sorry, we don't understand,' replied a harassed Henry.  But she
got more animated.  The other passengers looked on with a mixture of
curiosity and amusement.  Eventually one of them said to Henry in good
English, 'You need to get the pass stamped, down there, OK?'
  'Oh, right!  Sorry!'  They went down to the little machine strapped to a
pole and fumbled with it for quite a while till it worked.
  '... could not be simpler,' muttered Ed in Henry's red ears.

After an uneventful but pleasant afternoon the boys returned to the
apartment on time, at five.  There was a guest.  Mr Vincent from the church
had been invited for dinner, and he was deep in discussion with dad about
the parish and its characters.
  'Hullo boys,' Dad said, ' You remember Mr Vincent don't you?'
  'Hi, again,' said Henry.
  'Er ... hi,' said the man.
  'Get yourselves some drinks, lads.  Mr Vincent was telling me a little
bit about the parish.'
  'Well, a very little, I've only been attending St Edward's a year or so,
since I moved to Strelzen.'
  'Oh right,' said Henry, curious about this rather cool young man, who
just happened to be a choirmaster.  'Where were you before?'
  'London, working in the media.'
  'And what do you do here?' Henry persisted.
  'I work in the media,' was the uninformative reply.  Henry was a little
miffed.  The guy was closing him down.
  'What got you to be Director of Music, Will?'  asked Dad.
  'I started attending St Edward's and though they had, and still have, an
organist, there was little else musical going on in the church, which was a
pity because quite a lot of young families attend, British and American.
There's a busy Sunday school and youth club, and the potential for
developing a choir and music group was obvious, but there was no one with
the ability to take it forward.  But I've trained as a singer and can do a
bit of keyboard work if I have to, so one day I suggested to the chaplain
that I should ask around in the congregation and see what the response
was.'
  'And it was enthusiastic,' Dad smiled.
  'Sure.  We've got two choirs now.  The Sunday formal choir is for the
good old Anglican favourites, with a full line up with boys and girls
benches.  We started doing monthly evensongs in June.  It pulled in quite a
lot of Rothenian music enthusiasts too, friends of mine.  Maybe it wasn't
cathedral standard, but I was pleased with it.  We have the gospel choir
too, a little experiment of mine for the young adults, it also attracted a
good few exchange students from the Rodolfer Universitat.  We're giving a
public concert this month, I hope you can come.'
  'Wouldn't miss it,' Dad replied.
  'Great,' and Mr Vincent smiled, very nicely.
  During the meal, he sensed that the boys were very interested in the
history of Rothenia, and turned out to be a mine of information for them.
'I was a schoolteacher in a former life,' he said, 'and although this has
left me with some unfortunate character traits, I still keep up with the
past, in a manner of speaking.  And as far as Rothenia is concerned, I came
to live here as a result of my London company sending me here to make a
documentary on the history of the monarchy here.  For that matter, my
present company does the occasional historical documentary.'
  'You work for a Rothenian company now, Will?'  Mum asked.
  'Yes, it's called Strelsenermedia IC.  It's the biggest independent now
in Eastern Europe.  We run two channels in the Czech Republic, another in
Poland, and Eastnet, the new Central European 24 hour news network.'
  'And what do you do?'
  'I run it, I'm the CEO.'
  Edward whistled low, and looked at Henry.  'Excuse me Will,' Ed said,
'but aren't you a little young to be so high up in the media, and I'm not
meaning to be patronising, being pretty much on the young side myself.'
  Will gave him a big smile, 'S'OK, Edward.  I guess I am, but it's
possible to rise very quickly in the accession states of the EU at the
moment: so much opening up, and so many opportunities.  I was just in the
right place at the right time with the right connections.  It's been quite
a roller coaster ride, and I really need the church involvement to stop the
whole thing taking over every little bit of my life.  My boyfriend would
certainly complain if I didn't at least take one day off.'  All eyes
snapped to Will at that point, and he gave a little half smile.  He
continued after the significant pause, 'I find it as well to get the gay
thing out of the way early on.'
  Dad looked at the two boys; this was it, he was asking them how public
they wanted to be about their sexuality.  Henry felt under the table for
Ed's hand.  It was squeezed, and so he said, 'That's probably the best
way,' Will smiled at him and nodded, 'Ed and me here are lovers too.'
Will's smile washed away as astonishment rose to the surface to take its
place.'  Haha!  said something in Henry, the man likes to shock people with
his open gayness, but for once the boot is on the other foot.
  'You and your Ed are ... boyfriends?'  He looked at Dad, who gave a little
laugh.
  'The boys came out only a day or two ago, although they have been an item
for some months now, to the extent that it has long been pretty clear to me
and Mrs Atwood.'
  Will looked impressed, 'You are a liberal clergyman, aren't you?'
  'No,' said Dad, 'I'm a loving father, and in the case of Edward, my son
has chosen very well, I'm glad to say, and I'm very proud of them both.'
  There was a silence, followed by Will standing and solemnly shaking Dad's
hand.  Dad looked a little shaky for a moment, but then smiled.
  'Will?' asked Henry, ending the gap in the conversation, 'Can you tell us
something about the city.  Fodors is good -- it's even got a gay guide,
which Mum would kill us if we used -- but there are gaps.  We were at the
Tarlenheim palace this morning, and it looked brilliant, but it's not
open.'
  'It is, but only one day a year, and that not till October.  But if you
want to see inside I can probably arrange something.  You want to do it
next week?'
  'Well, yeah.  That's prompt service.'
  Will in fact made a brief call on the spot, and said that he'd be around
at nine for them on Monday.  They thanked him.

  Sunday saw no let up in Dad's nervousness.  The eight o'clock eucharist
was a said service so that was no problem, but when Henry got to church for
the ten o'clock, Dad was pacing the vestry, as the choir rehearsed in the
hall next door, and the organ played in the church.
  'You OK, Dad?'
  'Perfectly fine, love, perfectly fine.'
  'You're as crap a liar as I am, Dad.'
  'Thank you, son.  Appreciate the thought.'
  It had to be said that Dad's performance was maybe not a match for the
choir, and to compare him with Will as cantor was of course pointless.
Will's voice was a soaring and confident tenor, which caused prickles on
the neck of even Henry, and had Edward rapt.  But Dad was in his element in
the pulpit, amusing and thought provoking as ever.  He preached for fifteen
minutes and there was a distinct feeling of regret in the air when he
finished.  There was coffee after the service and Ed and Henry went over to
introduce themselves to the church group of young teens.  They were a mixed
and pleasant group, some children of expats, and others English-speaking
Rothenians.  Ed and Henry made particular friends with Micky and Nikki.
  'You can't be serious,' said Henry.
  'Don't be rude,' scolded Edward.
  Micky was a Londoner whose father was trade secretary at the embassy.  He
was fifteen and had settled into Rothenia well.  He went to a Rothenian
school, and as a result could speak remarkably good Rothenian, as they
learned when he chattered away with Nikki, a native Rothenian boy of the
same age who came from a family of Old Catholics.  There was no
congregation of Old Catholics in Strelzen, so they had joined the
Anglicans.
  The Strelsener boys enjoyed giving them the low down on city life, and
hints and tips about the best shops, and the best places to hang out.  They
exchanged numbers, and promised to meet up in the week.  They seemed to
think it would be fun to go to the Spa together, and Henry thought he saw a
secret grin flickering between Micky and Nikki when they suggested it, but
he put his suspicions to one side.
  The rest of Sunday was pretty much lazy.  Mum made a grand lunch, as she
was for the moment exempt from organ duty.  Ed flaked out on the couch
after what he said had been the best meal in all his life, and slept flat
on his back drooling.  Henry would have loved to have stretched out next to
him and cuddled him, but he was creating rules about intimacy.  His parents
had been brilliant so far, and he was sensitive that he should not push the
envelope too far and too fast for them.
  On Monday, as promised, Will was outside the apartment in Konigstrasse in
his impressive and powerful Audi.  He was in business suit and expensive
shades, and very much looked the managing director of a media giant, so
much so that Henry made a big point of thanking him for taking time out of
his busy schedule just to chaperone two kids.  Will gave a rather boyish
grin, and said that he'd spent a considerable part of his working life with
teenagers, and that he could think of no better way to spend a morning.
  They drove the short distance to the Radhausplaz and Will's car did more
than pull up outside the palace, it drove in under a great rusticated arch
and parked in an inner courtyard.
  Will locked the car, and led them up some broad steps and through a tall
open door into a marble entrance hall, with Canalettos and a monumental
porcelain stove.
  'OK, lads.  This is the palace, and very palace-like it looks.  I took
the liberty of asking a young friend to take you round.  He should be here.
Hang on I'll press this bell.'  A footman appeared, or someone whom Henry
assumed was a footman.  There was an exchange of Rothenian, and he
disappeared.  He reappeared a little later holding an inner door
deferentially open for a thirteen year old boy, blonde, tanned and very
handsome.  He grinned when he saw Will, and hugged him round the waist,
with a voluble burst of Rothenian, and a lot of laughter.
  'Lads, this is Fritz.  He lives here and he's very happy to take you
round as it is school holidays and he's bored, as he just said.'
  'Hello, English boys,' said Fritz with a very attractive twinkle in his
eye. 'You have saved my life, I was close to suicide yesterday and it is
only the first week of holiday.  You want the proper tour, Willemu said, so
on your own head be it.  It's your turn to be bored, and big time.'
  'Fritz,' admired Ed, 'your English is superb.'
  'Thank you, Edward.  I have good friends who are English and American
boys, we go skiing and diving together, and I have visited now London too.'
  'I've got to split,' said Will, 'Fritz says he'll be happy to look after
you for the day if you'd like.'
  Henry looked at the attractive Rothenian boy, who smiled seraphically
back at him.  There was something decidedly odd here.  'Tell me Fritz, are
you a Tarlenheim?'
  'He is ... well done Henry' laughed Will, 'bow to His Serene Highness,
Francis VI, prince-count of Tarlenheim, but Fritz or even Fritzku or Fritzy
to his friends, of whom I am privileged to be one.
  'Wow,' Edward sighed, 'This just about puts the icing on this trip.  A
pleasure Your Royal Highness.'
  Fritz laughed, 'Actually, I am not in the least Royal, friend Edward,
though I am Serene.  It is my natural disposition, so my brother Oskar
says.'
  They said farewell to Will, and were left face to face with the prince in
his palace.  He kept smiling, which also seemed to be his natural
disposition.  'I'll take you to the gallery, as Willemu says that you are
very artistic Henry.'
  'I wouldn't go so far.' He replied.  'But yes, I'd like to see the
pictures.'
  So Fritz led them up to the grand gallery on the first floor, and they
viewed the portraits of Tarlenheims past, and the late monarchs of
Ruritania, the old name for the kingdom of Rothenia.  They marvelled at the
chandeliers in the ballroom, the grand reception rooms and the old
kitchens.  Then with a big grin on his face, Fritz led them up a narrow
flight of stairs to the spaces under the roof.  He triumphantly clicked
several switches and revealed an enormous model railway.  He glowed at the
bigger boys's admiration, which grew more intense when he admitted that he
had done the modelling and wiring himself.  'This is York Station, as I
have reconstructed it from old photographs and books that my friends have
sent from England.'  He indicated a phenomenally detailed and huge multi-
platformed Victorian station at the heart of his model network.  'The
wiring for the points was very difficult.  Of course some modellers use
computers to control the sequences these days, but, being a survival from
an older age, I choose to stick to the manual switches.'
  'This is total genius, Fritzy!' said an awe-struck Henry.  The boy looked
coy.
  'I have great fun here, and none more so than when I have good friends to
play with.  All my schoolfriends live too far away to share the fun, but it
would be good if you would take the switch panel Henry, and if you Edward
controlled the signals, and ... there I shall set the Flying Scotsman on the
viaduct so.  It is a new model I have.  And we are off ...'
  They didn't leave the loft space till lunch time.  A light lunch was
provided in the kitchen, and they sat round talking freely and
enthusiastically.
  Henry had to ask, 'So how do you know Will, Fritz?'
  'It is a long story.  I met Will some years ago, in the old days before
we got our lands back, when I was still a village boy in Husbrau in the
north.  Will was a friend of my big brother, Oskar.'
  'Oh,' said Edward, 'when you mean friend, you mean ...' then he flushed,
aware of what he was saying to a young boy.
  But this was no ordinary young boy.  Fritz laughed, 'Yes, you have it,
Edward, Oskar and Will were lovers for a while, but it didn't work out for
one reason or another, but they are still very good friends, and Oskar
works in Will's company as director of TV for Strelsenermedia.  Oskar has a
new boyfriend now, and he is very happy.  He is in America at the moment
staying with his Pete in the Yale University, where Pete is a student.
Oskar now is very rich, and pays for the palace here out of his own pocket,
which is a great help I can tell you.'
  'So who does Will live with, he mentioned he had a boyfriend?' asked
Henry.
  'His boyfriend is a Rothenian, called Felip, they live up by the
cathedral, and are very happy, at least Felip always has a smile on his
face when he picks me up to go fishing on Saturday mornings.'  Fritz gave a
confidential smirk, 'I think they do the sexy thing quite a bit.'
  Ed and Henry caught each other's eyes and laughed.  And then Fritz
surprised them, a lot.
  'Ah ... I see that you are boyfriends too!'
  'What!  Did Will say?'  Henry was a little offended at the breach of
confidence.
  'Not at all, but ... bloody hell ... as my good English friend Justin says,
it is a bit obvious when you have as much to do with gay boys as I do.
Oskar, Will and Felip have a whole circle of gay friends who are part of my
life -- and a valued part of my life, too -- so you learn to notice things.
I do not think most people would see it, if that is what worries you.'
  'I tell you one thing that worries me,' said Henry, 'it's the Spa.'  He
told Fritz about the encounter with Micky and Nikki at St Edward's.
  Fritz was amused, 'Ah yes ... Oskar, Will, Felip, and I, and my sister
Helge, we go to the Spa sometimes in summer.  It is on a hill west of the
city, and was built in olden days when the Orient Express -- did I show you
my model of it? -- when the Orient Express brought archdukes and
millionaires to Strelzen, and when the Elphbergs ruled here.  There are
mineral waters, gymnasia, Turkish baths and for the children, there is an
adventure playground.'
  'So, what's the problem then?'
  'None, if you do not mind walking around without clothes in public.'
  'Aah!  Right!  I get it.  Those little sods were going to embarrass us
and put us on the spot by taking us without any warning to a place where
we'd have to strip off naked or look stupid.'
  Fritz continued.  'Strelseners are natural nudists, in our long sunny
summers here.  I suppose your Micky has learned to do it too.  Gone with
his friends and found he was expected to get naked.  So he's going to
spring it on you too.  The naughty boy.  I remember how embarrassed Justin
was, and his boyfriend Nathan ran away with his robe, so he had to chase
after him with his ... willy, you call it?  Yes?  ... flopping up and down.'
  'So who are Justin and Nathan?'
  'Well, they live in London and they too are gay boys, a bit older than
you two though.  They work in gardens there, but Justin is a bit special
you see.  He was adopted by the famous Matthew White and Sir Andrew
Peacher, and he lives with Matthew.'
  'Whoa ...' said Edward, 'you're losing me.  Matthew White?  Who's he?'
  'A big friend of Will's.  I thought he was famous, a model and a TV man.'
  'Never heard of him, but I'd probably recognise the face.'
  'You never forget the face,' said Fritz, 'so my gay friends say, and even
I can see what they mean, and I am not at all gay.  Helge thinks he is a
very great loss to the female sex.'
  'Justin and Nathan came last winter for the skiing with us, and we had a
great time.  I went with my sister Helge to see them last Easter and stayed
with Matt and Andy and them in Highgate.  Do you know Highgate?'
  'Yes,' said Ed, 'My parents live in Hampstead, which is not far away.'
  'Ah ... the Heath, yes.  Justin got into trouble for a bad joke about
cruising the Heath, which Nathan did not think was funny, as Justin is a
little mad and might do such things just for the hell of it.  He was a very
bad boy when he was younger and was in prison, or at least I think that was
what he said.  Or was it "the secure centre", but it sounded like a
prison.'
  They finished lunch, the older boys reeling a bit at the volume of
information they were getting about Fritz's huge circle of friends and
relatives.  Henry began to think that the young prince did not get the
opportunity to chat much in school holidays.  Fritz suggested that he take
them to the great square of the Rodolferplaz, in front of the old royal
palace.  So they left by a side door that Fritz knew and hopped a passing
tram.  The huge square was surrounded by five and six-storey commercial
buildings.  They got off at the palace end and admired the monolithic
statue of King Henry the Lion before the gates.  They joined the tourists
at the iron railings watching the guards pace the forecourt.  Fritz then
led them down the west side of the square, dodging through crowds and trams
on the cross streets.  Half way down the square they paused to throw coins
in the great fountain that was the centrepiece of the great piazza.
Finally they reached the southern end, where there were cafes with tables
under the trees and statues.  They got a table and a pleasant waiter took
their orders for cokes and oranginas, conveyed by Fritz.  He also ordered
-- without consulting them - some local ice creams in bowls heaped with
berries which he said was worth trying.  It was, and he insisted on paying
for them, telling them that they were guests in his country.
  Fritz thumbed over his shoulder with a quirky look, and said, 'I'm not
allowed to go to that corner of the square.'
  'Yeah?  Why?' asked Ed, as he knew he was supposed to.
  'That is the bit where sexy stuff goes on; we call it the 'Wejg', short
for Gildenfahrbswejg, you understand.  They have ladies who take their
clothes off and do a lot more if you pay them money.  Also there are bars
and cinemas they don't let you in until you're eighteen.  Justin and Nathan
went down there and got in terrible trouble from Andy and Matt.  They were
very naughty boys.  They got drunk and ended up in a studio where they make
gay porn.  Andy was scary, and even Justin was about to cry I think when he
finished with him, and Justin has the brass monkeys.'
  'I think you might mean, brass neck,' smiled Henry.
  'Very possibly, Henry,' said the prince.  'I would not go down there, as
Oskar would be so upset.  But I imagine you might, and if you do, you might
come back and tell me what it's like ... it is still a long time till my
eighteenth birthday.'
  'Sorry, Fritzy, but I think this is one of those places my mum meant when
she told us that there were places in the city that were off limits to us.
And I don't like upsetting her either.'
  The afternoon passed very pleasantly in the sunny and beautiful city, in
the delightful company of a funny and precocious young teen, with
surprisingly few hang ups about anything.  Henry privately concluded that
by the time he was an adult, Fritz would have a personality the size of a
small planet.  After a last drink together in a McDonalds, they said their
farewells and exchanged numbers

As they undressed for bed that night, Ed came up behind his naked boyfriend
and pressed himself into his buttocks.  'What'll we do tonight, little
babe?'
  'Let's be sexy,' Henry laughed.
  'Can you get on your back then, pretty Henry.'
  'What you got in mind?'
  'Just lie down, baby.'  Henry did and spread out on top of the crumpled
duvet.  Ed sat next to his legs and stroked up and down Henry's inner
thighs, making him coo and wriggle.  Then he knelt between Henry's legs and
took his right foot and held it in his lap.  'You're so pretty, Henry.
Look at this little foot of yours.  So soft and so small.'  He reached down
with his mouth and licked at Henry's toes, then tentatively sucked them.
He drew back and admired the small, well-clipped nails, the blue veins and
light hair on the instep, then began sucking again.
  Henry wriggled under the attention.  He smiled up at Ed.  'What're you
doing?  Don't you mind the sock smell?  Don't stop it though!'
  Ed smiled round Henry's foot.  He put it carefully down on the bed, and
then began licking up the inside of his lover's right leg, starting at his
ankle.  He tickled with his tongue the light covering of dark hair below
Henry's knee.  He looked at the little blue boys' scars on Henry's kneecap,
and kissed them.  Then he began moving his mouth up the thigh, Henry moving
more jerkily under him.  Soon he was face to face with Henry's dick,
already swelling with blood, the tip of his penis emerging from its fleshy
sheath.  Ed licked and kissed his lover's balls, large and tight for a boy
of Henry's slight build.  He looked up at Henry looking down at him.
'Don't say anything.  I want to do this.'  He pushed back Henry's legs and
exposed his anus and the hairy spaces behind the boy's balls.  Henry
clipped himself down there, but it wasn't easy to reach that particular
area.  Henry's balls were still tight and didn't hang down and hide the
line of his perineum.  Ed's tongue began a slow journey down to the heart
of darkness.
  Henry gasped, 'I haven't washed down there, Ed.  It'll be ... ooh!'
  'I don't care.  I even love the Henry sweaty, stinky odour. Which in the
circumstances is just as well'
  He pushed in with his mouth, kissing his lover's little fold of an anus.
There was not much visible pucker there, a tightness which might account
for part of their problem with intercourse.  Ed began licking insistently,
enjoying the little whimpers that Henry let out.  He was going nowhere with
this rimming.  He just wanted to please Henry.  Ed folded and tensed his
tongue, and began attempting to penetrate Henry with it, but there was
little chance.  He was too tight.  After an age of stimulation, Ed raised
himself up and hung over his lover.
  'And now, little babe, you're going to do something for me.  You're going
to lick my bum too, and then you're going to put your dick in me.'
  'So this is what this is all about,' said Henry, reaching up and pulling
Ed down to him, kissing and embracing him.  'How do you know it'll be any
better than when you tried to screw me?'
  'I don't, but I'm a bigger guy, and my hole may be in proportion to the
rest of me.  Maybe it'll be easier for you to penetrate me.  Note my
sensitivity about not mentioning the relative sizes of our dicks.' He
looked seriously into Henry's eyes.  'I really want this, Henry.  Take my
virginity.  I daydream about it, little babe.  Another thing.  I want you
to do me when I'm on my back, looking up at your face as you go inside me
... and anyway, maybe that could be an easier way to do it.  OK?'
  'OK, my sporting hero.  Be patient with me though.'  Henry rolled on top
of Ed, who made himself comfortable, pulling back his legs and holding them
behind the knees.  Henry got himself in position in front of Ed's displayed
arse.  Henry was a blond around his crotch too, and although there was
plenty of hair there it was light and whispy, while his crack was almost
entirely clear.  His anus was pinkish, not brown like Henry's.  Henry
fingered it lightly, and laughed at the reaction.  'Where's the oily stuff,
Ed?'
  'By the table there.  Ready?'
  'Oh yeah.'  Henry kissed the back of Ed's muscular thighs, almost
man-sized now, and licked his way down to the boy's magnificent displayed
rump.  This was it, and here we go, he thought.  His little pink tongue
licked out and began lapping at Ed's hole.  As Ed moaned, it actually
twitched!  Henry was fascinated.  It seemed to have a life off its own.  It
was not long before he was really into it.  The smell was mostly dominated
by soap, as Ed had clearly got himself ready for the rimming, but there was
the ever present acrid scent of his sweat and hormones. Underlying it was
an umistakable earthy and musky odour, the scent of Ed's interior.  It
excited Henry.  You little perv, he accused himself.
  When he thought it was time, and Ed's hole was slick with his saliva, he
oiled his index finger and pushed it steadily inside his lover.  It was hot
and tight.  He wiggled it around, to test the elasticity of the muscle
ring.  Ed gasped as he did it.  'Alright?'  Henry asked.
  'Aw yeah ... and some,' was the hissing answer.
  Henry pushed as far in as he could, and began withdrawing and thrusting,
as he couldn't think of anything else to do.  But Ed seemed to enjoy it,
the muscles in his backside rippling as he shifted himself involuntarily.
Two fingers proved little problem, and just increased Ed's excitement.  It
was when he forced his bunched three figures in that Ed arched and groaned.
But by now Henry was getting enthusiastic.  He steadily increased the
pressure.  Ed had, after all, got three in him.  The muscle gave under the
assault, and soon Henry was jammed into him as far as he could.  He pulled
out, and sniffed his fingers: there was no doubt where they had been.  He
absently wiped them on the duvet cover.  The ring had opened and there was
a little black hole visible.  Henry got the lubricant and let drops of the
fluid drip awkwardly on the opening.
  'S'cold,' said Ed.
  'I'll rub it in, Ed.'  Henry kept up the massage, hearing a squelching
noise as he worked away.
  'Shall I do it?' he asked, his nerves very evident.
  'You erect?'  Henry had gone down a bit, but some hard stroking brought
him back up.  He got up over Ed's rear and put his arms down on either side
of him to take his weight.  His shoulders connected with the back of Ed's
legs.  Ed gave him a tight grin as he looked down on him, and he smiled
back.
  'You ready, lover?'
  'As I'll ever be, little babe.  Just keep pushing OK?  Get as much in me
as you can.'
  Henry had his cock in the crater of Ed's hole.  It felt slick and warm on
his sensitive flesh.  He said a brief prayer to whatever god managed
erections, and pushed.  He caught, but at least he didn't slide out.  His
dick bent under the pressure, for all its eagerness, so he grabbed it to
keep it straight.  Ed was whispering to himself: 'Relax.  Relax.'
  With a surprising suddenness, Ed's anus surrendered, and Henry's thin
member slid into a new, hot and tight place, that gripped him and drew him
in.  It sent powerful sensations to the base of his spine. He was aware of
Ed yelping, but also of his own involuntary groan.
  'Oh!  Oh God!' Ed moaned.
  'Is it hurting?' Henry gasped.
  'Yes, but I don't care.  My bum's loving it too.  Move in and out, little
babe.  It's fantastic!'  Henry had closed his eyes as his dick had gone in,
he looked down now and saw an enraptured and preoccupied look in possession
of his lover's face.  It seemed that it was different this way, and it
seemed that Ed had less trouble taking him.
  So Henry began the fucking strokes, slowly and patiently as he had been
warned, the powerful body of his lover moving and squirming beneath him.
They were slick with their sweat.  He didn't know how long he could keep it
up.  His cock seemed to be the centre of his universe, the place from which
stabs of erotic flame began shooting out across his nervous system.  A part
of him knew he was groaning as he thrust, but he had no control over it.
Soon he had no control over his thrusting either.  His head buzzed as his
groin battered Ed's arse with a rhythmic slapping.  His balls tightened
into his body, the sperm rose through his urethra, and he gave some
incomprehensible strangled noise as finally he came inside another man.  He
fell forward into Ed's welcoming arms, and was hugged hard.  'My gorgeous
little Henry.  My own lover.  My life.'  He heard those words, and if
anything could have increased his physical ecstasy, it was the spiritual
ecstasy of hearing them said to him in all seriousness.  He was complete.