Date: Sat, 23 Aug 2003 22:48:09 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 58

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws
of your country or district please desist.  If you are a bigot or
prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking
literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to
yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.  Those so
far have been very helpful in that they have given me the encouragement to
persevere!

This is a very long tale.  It unfolds over a good number of years.  What is
true, is true: what is not is otherwise.  If you have trouble with the
English educational system, or English usage, let me know.


			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel


				Chapter 34

			    Part two:.........

				     *

			Wednesday 30th August 1944

     I was awoken by a hefty slap to my bare bum by a grinning Lachlan
already up and dressed.

     "Up, landlubber," he said, "Get that spunk-covered body of yours into
that bathroom, pronto, only time for a pee.  Tides running.  Two minutes,
chop, chop!"

     I dragged on running shorts, no pants and my jockstrap was not visible
anywhere, pulled a shirt over my head, wriggled into plimsolls and passed
water as fast as possible and followed an impatient young whirlwind down
the stairs and out across the lawn to the boathouse where Andrew was
already standing by the boat.  Both Lachlan and I stopped and roared with
laughter.  My jockstrap was much too big for Andrew, who stood there in an
imposing manner smiling broadly, but with the elastic attached to the pouch
hanging below the hem of his short shorts and the pouch hanging free too.

     "That's suppose to support you, you fool," chortled Lachlan.

     "I'm wearing it and that's that.  I've put a couple of safety pins in
the waistband so it won't come down but I didn't have time to deal with the
rest."  He was just as impatient to start my ordeal as Lachlan.  "Now you
know exactly what to do, don't you?  You've watched us and we've told you
what to do.  And if we all fall in you wait until we rescue you!"

     I think, to their amazement, I did pretty well.  The boat was not
capsized.  We tacked gracefully up and reached Ipswich in good time.  I had
watched the sails and gauged the wind just right all the way.  For once
there was no backchat.  I was complimented by them both as we came to a
standstill within the dock area.  We had the usual waves and greetings,
"Where you bin, bor, we ain't sin yer?", another laughed, "Slow boat to
China!"  Under their gaze and Andrew's instruction I turned the boat and
headed back downstream.  Lachlan had said on the journey up that we weren't
going to look at Wolsey's Gate today with that child's knickers round his
knees.  That was the only time I nearly lost concentration as 'that child'
made as if to stand up in the bow and rocked the boat alarmingly.  He knew
what he was doing and sat down promptly mouthing "Sorry, Jacko".

     On arrival back at the mooring both said how well I'd done.  Andrew
then said, "Beginner's luck", and then laughed.  Lachlan said, very
seriously, it wasn't beginner's luck I had done exactly what I should do at
every move and he remembered how a certain person had landed up wedged on
the other bank when he was allowed a solo run by Billy Catchpole.

     "I was only seven!" wailed Andrew in mock despair, "And he called me a
cocky little bugger. And when I asked him what he meant he wouldn't tell
me!"

     "And dad clouted me when he came home on leave and you asked him what
it meant and he said I wasn't to teach you such words.  I haven't forgiven
you for that.  I didn't let on Billy said it and I told you what it meant
and you weren't to say that word!" said Lachlan, grabbing at Andrew and
rubbing his hands across both his ears.  "You're much too forward for your
age, Mummy says, so watch what you say!"

     When this altercation finished we went up to the house for breakfast.
In the kitchen was young Georgie Catchpole chatting to Nanny Saunders.  He
had a large round of toast and jam in his hand.

     Lachlan went straight up to him and said if he wanted he could come
down this afternoon and he would take him out in the boat. The lad looked
so pleased and said he would be there at two o'clock prompt.

     The rest of the morning was spent cycling off into the countryside
again where other fields were being cut but we didn't stop as we didn't
know the farmers.  I found a village post office and posted a card to Ma
and Pa saying I was OK.

     After lunch Andrew and I sat on the bank while a very proud
twelve-year-old Georgie took the rudder while Lachlan manipulated the
sails.  Andrew said his mum said Suffolk people took a long while to accept
you but when they did you had good friends. Young Georgie hadn't said much
to us before the boat-trip but afterwards he sat with us for quite a while
chatting in his wonderful soft Suffolk burr.  He said we should come to the
farm sometime and see his father's new goats which his grandad thought were
a waste.  He said he liked them and one was quite a pet for him.  He waved
goodbye as he said he had to get back as he was milking the goats later.

     I was then raced along to the pool and three naked youngsters were
soon splashing around.  I was making progress too at swimming and Andrew
did not muck around and the pair of them were able teachers.  Andrew asked
if I minded acting if I was drowning and he would rescue me.  I didn't have
to do much acting and the young eel deftly clung to me and dragged my hefty
weight most proficiently.  They then practised on each other until Lachlan
was satisfied with his brother's progress.  This left me space and time to
practice my own gradually improving swimming.

     That evening after we went up to bed I got out the photo of Piers and
Miles and found it fitted perfectly into the frame.  The boys wanted to see
what I had done, so, saying nothing, I passed the frame to Lachlan with
Andrew peering round him.

     Andrew looked at it intently.  "I didn't know you rowed," he said.
Then Lachlan looked from me to the photo.  "You haven't got an older
brother have you?"

     I shook my head. I couldn't say anything.  Both Andrew and Lachlan had
seen the likeness immediately.  Andrew piped up, "Is it an uncle?  'Cause
that's an old photo, isn't it?"

     I said it wasn't an uncle, it was a distant cousin with his friend and
I would tell them the whole story next day.  I put the photo on the
dressing table and went to wash.  When I came back Lachlan was holding the
photo and looking at it fixedly.

     "It's something special, isn't it?" he said.

     I nodded but said nothing more.  Anyway, as usual, Andrew provided a
diversion.  He had just taken off his shirt and wasn't looking at us.
Lachlan looked over at him, nodded at me and smiled.  I went over and
before he could evade me I lifted him bodily and held him against my chest.
Lachlan came over, unbuttoned his shorts and lowered them.  My modified
jockstrap was revealed.  Not only were there the original safety pins
reducing the waist band but, in the interval before supper, Andrew must
have used more pins to draw the elastic bits up and had cobbled the pouch
together too.  It must have been a bit uncomfortable.

     "I thought he'd got worms at supper," said Lachlan through his
laughter, "He kept wriggling on his seat."

     "I didn't wear it when we got back from sailing till tonight." Andrew
said.  "Let me down," he demanded, trying to kick out, "Else I'll scream
and Nanny will come to see what you are doing to me."

     Lachlan pulled the jockstrap down and caught hold of Andrew's little
nut-sac. "Try screaming now and see what'll happen!"

     Andrew stopped wriggling against me and I dropped him gratefully but,
before Lachlan adjusted his grip to the falling object, Andrew squealed as
his balls got jerked and he clutched at Lachlan's hands.  "You've hurt me!"
He punched out and hit Lachlan square in the goolies.  It was Lachlan's
turn to squeal.  He dropped to the floor clutching himself.  I knelt by him
while a now distraught Andrew put his arms round his neck.  "Sorry, Lachs,
I didn't mean to hit you there."  It took a minute or two before Lachs
recovered.  I helped him to his feet and led him so he could sit on the
side of the bed.  A little playful fun had gone wrong.  Andrew sat by his
feet and put an arm round his legs.  "I'm sorry,.." he kept murmuring.
Lachs recovered and put his hand on Andrew's bowed head.

     "I'm OK, Andrew, I hope no damage done.  Sorry I grabbed you like
that."

     Andrew stood up and grasped at Lachlan's hand.  "I'm sorry too."  The
old Andrew was back.  "But it's all his fault.  He shouldn't have made me
wear that thing!"  He looked at me and grinned.  "See, all your fault."

     I said he was an ungrateful little beast and I didn't think I wanted
him as a cousin and if he wasn't nice to me I might whack him where it hurt
as well.  I was then pummelled and told to mind what I said as Fleas bite.

     Of course, I said, when we finally got into bed, the pair of them
might be permanently damaged so I'd better check on them both.  I made them
lie down side by side and said my real cousins had been checked this way
and if I was going to have two new real cousins I had to check they were
still OK.

     I knelt with their thighs together and their legs parted just as with
Alun and Rhys.  I caught hold of a young, virile prick in each hand and
wanked them slowly at the same time keeping my two hands exactly in step.
They looked up at me steadily, their mouths slightly open, their chests
rising and falling together until Andrew grimaced and I felt his boy-juice
pulsing up his shaft.  He produced much more tonight and it was also quite
creamy as well.  I stopped wanking him and concentrated on Lachlan whose
eyes were now closed.  His breath was coming now in fits and starts.

     Andrew was staring at my moving hand and smiled as the slit opened and
Lachlan's load shot out up onto his chest and landed with a trail of creamy
spots.  "He's OK," he said, "Needs more than a light tap to turn off his
supply, eh?"

     Lachlan struggled to get his breath back.  "Does he never stop?"  He
shook his head resignedly again.

     "Get moving," Andrew said to his brother, drawing his leg from between
mine and shoving his brother in the bed.  "We've got to see if this
so-called cousin is still capable, too.  He needs to be checked daily in
case he is a Pharaoh and he might turn into a mummy, and mummies are ladies
so they don't have cocks..."  He realised what he'd said and the
implications.  He looked at Lachlan.  "I didn't mean that but we know
ladies don't...  And Mummy..."

     "There are mummies and Mummies," I said hurriedly, "and I wouldn't be
the female kind if I was a Pharaoh, would I?"

     "The sooner we mummify this one the better, I say," grunted Lachlan
moving over, making space for me to lie down between them, " I suggest,
Jacko, we start tomorrow, there's a book in Mum's room from the British
Museum and it's got pictures in it."

     "I'll tell Nanny Saunders," said a slightly worried Andrew.

     "Hunh, she'll give us a couple of old sheets for bandages."

     "If you do it, I won't hear Jacko's story."

     "That's OK," I said tousling his cropped hair, "I'll tell you while
we're bandaging you up.  And I'm an expert at bandaging 'cause I'm in the
St John's Ambulance."

     Two against one - he wasn't used to this.  Of course, both Lachlan and
I gave the game away by giggling.

     "You aren't any Pharaoh either," said Andrew, "And that cat only sat
on you because you smell like one, I expect!"

     "That's enough, Andrew!" said Lachlan with a finality in his voice
which both Andrew and I recognised was quiet authority.

     A hand came across and sought mine.  "Sorry Jacko.  Friends?"

     I gripped his hand.  "I shall send a special message to Rajah to
squash you next time!"

     He giggled and rolled onto his side towards me.  "What did your
cousins say when you checked them?"

     "Nothing, it's what they did."

     "Like this?" asked Lachlan, rolling onto his side and down the bed
seeking my cock with his open mouth.

     A battle ensued with my prick as the prize.  Both boys lapped and
licked and jockeyed for position to take my rod into their mouths.  Both
won in the end as Lachlan had both my balls in his wide open mouth while
Andrew was merrily licking and sucking at my unsheathed head until my balls
began to rise.  With this, Lachlan slid up and together they licked and
lapped with Andrew's tongue just under my ridge.  Their soon-to-be real
cousin proved himself.  I flooded my belly and chest and the pair of them
licked at my warm come and presented me with their tongues to the tip of
mine.

     We went to sleep like that, the pair of them against my sides, me on
my back, until sometime in the night I must have turned on my side.
                              *

     It looked a bit squally in the morning so it was decided to clean the
keel of the boat like the Sea Scouts had been doing to theirs.  After that
was done we sat by the boat and I told them the whole story of Ulvescott.
I had brought the photo in its frame down to the boathouse wrapped in a
pullover.  As the story unrolled I felt just like the old salt in the
painting, sitting by his fishing boat, telling the two youngsters tales of
his youthful adventures.  I didn't pull any punches anywhere in the story,
how the boys were trying to do things to me when Bran howled, finally how
Tom had tried to fuck me, calling me Piers and my connection of the two
names through Tom's own name.  Whether it was coincidence or not, I said I
didn't know. They had gasped and looked at each other when I got to the bit
about Piers and Miles having been at their school and giggled when I told
them about the code in the diaries.  I then explained what Uncle Edward had
found out about my relationship to Piers and when I reached that final
thing about the birthmarks they looked quite stunned.

     "Is that all true, Jacko?" Lachlan asked when I had finished.

     I nodded.  "I've told you most... the important bits.... There's more
that's happened there and I'll tell you about Hans and Herr Vogel and all
the other things another time."

     "If they were at our school," Andrew said, "they would be on the
Honours Board with all the others."

     Lachlan nodded in agreement.  "There's lots of names.  All those who
were killed in that war.  We'll look when we go back."

     After lunch we walked down to the farm and found the small field in
which the goats were kept.  They were over the other side munching at stuff
in metal containers.  Nosey Andrew wanted to see them closer so he went
over the gate and strolled towards them and was stroking the back of one
small white one when old Farmer Catchpole came along the track and joined
us.  We greeted him and said young Georgie had told us about the goats.  He
nodded sagely and sucked on his pipe.

     "Tha's my daft son he goos and buys those old things and then tha'
poor kid he has to look arter 'em. Daft booger that son!"

     Andrew turned and saw we were talking to Mr Catchpole.  He waved and
started walking back.  Then he suddenly turned, looked behind him and took
off like greased lightning, sped across the field and nimbly climbed over
the gate.  A very angry-looking billy goat stopped dead snorting and pawing
the ground.

     Mr Catchpole sucked on his pipe again.  "Do you tek my advice, bor, do
you never turn your arse on anything with balls!"  With this laconic
statement he waved his pipe at Andrew, said "Good-day" and ambled off up
the track.

     Andrew, for once, was speechless.  Lachlan and I were looking at each
other, spluttering with laughter.  The billy goat seeing no further
adversary haughtily stalked off back to the group of still chewing goats.

     Lachlan poked Andrew in the back. "Do you unnerstan' thet, bor, an'
his are bigger than yours so yuh can't miss a-seeing 'em, eh, bor?  An'
tha's a fact!" he said in a perfect Suffolk accent.

     Andrew's pride was hurt.  Nothing more. He turned and also stalked
off, down the track, muttering imprecations of what he would do to young
Georgie for not telling him there were wild beasts in the field.  It didn't
last long.  Ten yards.  Then he turned his face creased up, he laughed,
loud and long.

     Of course, that was the theme for the rest of day.  When I stood up
after swimming a bit with Andrew behind me he swatted my backside, "Do you
watch out, bor, tha's balls behind you".

     I turned and grabbed him, we both submerged, me a bit more fearless
now.  I caught hold of his nuts and, with total compliance on his part, we
surfaced and stood face to chest.  "There were bigger balls than these on
your Aunt's fancy cakes and at least they were silver and edible!" I said.

     I had made the mistake of not protecting my own.  A small hand cupped
my cold, wrinkled sack.  "And what do think these are?  - Ow!."  He let go
suddenly as Lachlan silently surfaced behind him.  Andrew's goolies had
been claimed again.

     "Do ya' watch it, bor, them's yer cousin's in front an' yer brotha's
behind ya!"

     After we'd horsed around a bit we got out, rubbed ourselves down with
the old towels we'd brought with us and then sunned ourselves on the grass.
The boys were full of questions about Ulvescott and I told them then about
meeting Hans and how he and the other POW, Herr Vogel, were very nice and
how we talked to each other in either German or French.  This stunned them.
Their brainy cousin again, especially when I told them I'd done the
translations for ex-Sergeant Higgs's trial.  But they were a bit
apprehensive about me consorting with the enemy in such a way.  Weren't
they dangerous? Their ideas of Germans were of people bombing us and
killing soldiers.  I said I didn't think all Germans were like that and
Hans certainly wasn't.  I don't think they were convinced until I told them
about Matt's worries and what Hans had said and then how Tom and I had
witnessed him beating his meat in the barn.  I said he was just like us and
left it at that.

     In bed that night there were more questions.  The brothers must have
had a little conflab at some time when I wasn't present.  We had settled
down with me in the middle again, they on their sides facing me.

     "Do boys fuck each other, really?" asked Lachlan hesitantly, "Like you
said Tom tried and those boys did with Andrew?"

     "They said they'd fuck me properly," said a more confident Andrew,
"And I've heard boys say that someone's got a nice arse and they wouldn't
mind a bit.  And Potty says Grantham's had more dicks up him than he's had
hot dinners...."

     "...True!" chimed in Lachlan, "Jeffreys told me he saw Grantham go off
into the copse with that big lad in the Sixth, Colthorpe, I think, and he
said they weren't going off to pick bluebells."

     "You never told me that!"

     "You're much too young and innocent to learn of such things!" said
Lachlan, chuckling.

     Andrew was not to be denied knowledge.  "He never tells me things like
that.  I don't know if the others are telling the truth.  You'd tell me,
wouldn't you?"  He put a hand on my arm and then put his face closer to
mine.  "If Tom tried that time, did he do it really?"

     To absolute silence I said I had fucked Tom and also other friends and
I'd been fucked as well.  I said, very quietly, you could only do it
properly if you were good friends and they and you wanted it.

     "Is it as nice as been sucked like we do?" Andrew's quiet voice asked.

     The boys had learned that just over the past few days.  Tom, Mike,
Matt and I had longer histories.  I couldn't lead them further.  I was
still on the outskirts of their relationships.  I had been accepted
wholeheartedly, but...  I didn't want to harm our growing relationship.
Andrew had already had one nasty experience.  Whatever happened he mustn't
have another.

     I said that on each occasion it hadn't happened deliberately although
there was a plea to take things further.  I said you had to trust the other
person as damage could be done.  I said you could hurt someone not only
physically.  I hadn't got that word in my vocabulary but the boys
understood and they knew what I meant about hurting people other ways.

     Andrew squeezed my arm.  "I was really scared with those boys, but I'm
alright now I've told you both about it and Lachs has promised not to kill
them...  I wouldn't want to do it to anyone I didn't think was willing.
I'm not sure I want it done to me."

     I said no one should do anything they didn't want to and I felt
Lachlan nodding in agreement beside me.

     Three silent, contemplative boys felt for each others rampant shafts
and slowly and quietly each was dispossessed of their daily output by one,
then two questing hands, until three streams pooled on the central boy's
stomach.

     A quiet voice whispered by the side of the central boy, "Could it be
more perfect than that?"

                    Friday 1st September 1944

     We were up early again to sail up river to Ipswich where we would
disembark and they would show me some of the sights.  Andrew, this time,
managed the sails, while Lachlan steered with the rudder.  I had to watch
carefully as I would be in charge of the rudder on the way back.

     We found a bit of jetty with steps and the boat was fastened securely.
A couple of the men on the dock said they would keep an eye on the boat for
us.  It wasn't far as we soon found the church where, near it, was the only
remains of the college which Wolsey had planned for Ipswich.  A rather
broken-down old arch was all that was left.  Lachlan said his dad had told
him all about Wolsey and King Henry and how Henry's divorce changed the
whole country for ever.  His father had said he had wondered if the last
King's divorce would have an effect.  Andrew said he didn't know how Henry
managed having six wives. I pointed out he didn't have them all at the same
time.  I got a thump for that.  Lachlan said his father had studied history
at Cambridge and wanted to write a book about the old Suffolk which he had
explored when on leave from the army.  He sounded quite wistful and I
thought to myself that he must miss not having a father around.  Then he
said he hadn't known his father very well at all because he was away in
London so much and then he and Andrew were away at school as well.

     We didn't roam about much as Andrew complained he was hungry and
wanted his breakfast so we soon set off back down river and I didn't cause
any mishaps.

     At lunch-time Nanny Saunders said that Uncle Edward was coming the
next day and staying until Sunday evening and we would be having the
pheasants for Sunday lunch and young Georgie had brought another brace.
After mooching about a bit Andrew said he would go to the farm as Nanny
wanted some vegetables so I went with Lachs to the pool and he coached me
in doing the crawl and I did gain in confidence.  He said not having that
imp along all the time also helped.  I said I didn't mind the imp and Lachs
just raised his eyes to heaven!

     We towelled and stuck our shorts on and strolled up to the house
intending to raid Nanny's store of goodwill and food.  A small figure
darted across the lawn into the shrubbery in the distance some way off from
us.  A second small figure appeared moments later in hot pursuit.  Lachlan
looked at me and raised his eyes heavenwards again.

     We could hear thudding footsteps as the first runner burst through the
shrubbery just in front of us.  He stopped, panting.  It was Georgie.

     "Thass that Andrew," he said, laughing and panting at the same time,
"He said that there old goat's dangerous and I said old Billy's tame as a
kitten and I could see him run like that if old Jerry came at him with one
of they old bayonets!"

     Andrew burst through the shrubbery then.  "Oh, there he is, come
here!"
  He made a grab for Georgie but Lachlan caught hold of him and restrained
him.  I stood behind Georgie and put my arms round his shoulders
protectively.  "Cheek, as if I would run away from the enemy," chuntered
Andrew, "I said I'd show him what the British army would do and he said I
ran away from that goat faster than those Ities would!"

     Georgie wasn't at all perturbed, "Come on down together and I'll show
you thass old goat."

     Lachlan and I were grinning at the defeated Andrew.

     "That's right, Andrew," said Lachlan, "Let's go and see how the
British army would deal with an attack by massed ranks of goats, or even
one!"

     Lachlan, with a slightly bemused Andrew, marched off towards the lane
to the farm.  I followed with Georgie.

     "Do you want to larn ta milk?" asked Georgie, "I'll a show ya. T'aint
too easy to start but I like it.  Grandad gives me a shilling a day for the
milk.  Old booger sells it then.  My dad'd put it in the old pub if he had
the money and Grandad says he can't hev it."

     We reached the field and the gate.  Georgie calmly opened it and
whistled.  The small herd of goats looked up.  He whistled again and the
billy goat left the group and came trotting up.

     Georgie turned to us, all safely behind the closed gate. "Do you come
in here, Andrew, he ain't a going to hurt ya."  He stroked the goat's head.
"Do you come on in, Andrew, I ain't awaiting all day for you."

     A rather reluctant Andrew opened the gate slightly and sidled in.  He
slowly went up to Georgie and stood with Georgie between him and the goat.
The goat turned his head and looked at him.

     "Do you give him a stroke and you tek his halter and do you lead him
and tie him to that rail."

     Andrew looked at Georgie.  Georgie was serious.  Andrew had been
instructed to lead the wild, dangerous beast....  He held out a tentative
hand which Georgie took and placed on the goat's head.  He stroked it while
Georgie leaned down to retrieve the short halter hanging from his neck.  He
handed the end of that to Andrew.  He took two steps forward and the goat
obediently walked at his side and they continued across the field.

     Andrew carefully picked up the rope hanging from the rail.  "Do you
make a proper reef knot, bor, and not one o' they old clove hitches,"
called out Georgie.  Andrew had won and Lachlan had been reminded of one of
his failures.  Georgie turned.

     "I told ya thass was easy.  You two come along o' me together now and
we'll larn ya to milk."

     I will say the goats were lovely creatures, they were friendly and the
billy-goat seemed contented when I held out a small bunch of hay for him to
chew.  Learning to milk was hilarious, but Georgie was an excellent
instructor.  I managed after my poor goat had been tugged at for five
minutes or so to suddenly produce a thin, more or less continuous stream of
milk which hissed into the tin canister.  We were not expert like Georgie
and Lachlan was less successful than Andrew or me.  In the end, Georgie
said he would finish the milking himself and Lachlan said if he came round
in the morning we would row across to the other bank and he could come with
us on a ramble. We all stroked the billy-goat's head before leaving.

     As we turned to go, Georgie looked up at Andrew from his position
kneeling by the goat he was expertly milking..  "Thass old goat a-chased
you, bor, 'cos he thought you'd a come along to tup his gals."

     I am afraid poor Andrew was teased all afternoon and evening after
that.  'Tup his girls' became our catch-phrase. Because Lachlan and I were
laughing and giggling so much at supper-time Mrs Cameron wanted to know
what all the hilarity was. Lachlan explained that seeing Andrew lead the
goat across the pasture was very funny and then Georgie had taught us how
to milk and that was funny, too.  'Tup his girls' was not mentioned.

     Andrew sat stony-faced.  "I think I was very brave.  That was a wild
animal and they hid behind the gate until I was across the field.  And then
he couldn't aim straight into the bucket and only got about three squirts
anyway.  At least Jacko managed to half fill his."

     "You were very brave," I said, "I don't mind admitting that animal
looked vicious.  But that Georgie's a real character, isn't he?"

     A mollified Andrew looked at me and smiled.  The first time he'd
smiled for the past two or three hours.  "I like Georgie," he said, "he's
just like his brother.
  And he could control wild beasts too!"  He looked meaningfully at his own
brother.

     "I suppose you mean me," his brother said patiently.  "Was it when I
lost my temper when I broke the mast, or fell in, or split that sail?"

     "Give it up, you two," his mother intervened, "And, behave yourselves
while Edward's here.  He's up for promotion so he might be a bit edgy."

     "My dad's already a lieutenant-colonel," I said.  The boys' heads
swivelled.  "And I got pips as well, but only honorary.  I'll show you when
we go upstairs."

     No, I was sent upstairs there and then.  They also told me to bring
the photo as well.  I fished the two pips out of my school blazer pocket
where I always kept them.
  Although I'd told them about Mike and the firing-range trip I hadn't said
about Pa and Dr O'Brien getting military ranks.  They were mightily
impressed.  Brainy cousin-to-be has brainy dad who is also a colonel!

     I then had to re-tell the story of my relationship to the Crossleys
showing Aunt Della and Nanny Saunders the photo.  Aunt Della said that
Edward had told her some of the story and it was quite fascinating and
would make a good plot for a book.  Nanny Saunders said I was certainly
like the boy in the photo.

     Ribbing poor Andrew continued when we went up to bed.  I asked him if
he wanted to tup a nice young goat or could we practice milking on him.
Between us we held him down and putting a finger and thumb either side of
his prick squeezed and pulled just as Georgie had taught us to hold the
goat's teats.  As we both so-called 'practised' on him he squealed and
tried to resist our efforts. We didn't do it too much each time so he was
getting more and more worked up as we 'practised', stopped, changed milkers
and 'practised' again.

     "It's more difficult getting milk out of this goat," I said, "We need
a lot more practise."

     We slowed down the rate and increased the intervals and I thought of
the tied-up Tom begging for release.  Andrew by now had got to the "Please,
please," stage and Lachlan was highly delighted that he had some assistance
in giving his brother some comeback.  After nearly half an hour Lachlan
looked at me and nodded, it was his turn to 'practise' and this time he
kept on.  Lachlan's efforts at milking were well-rewarded.  A stream of now
more- creamy spunk gushed out of Andrew's slit as he jerked and bounced on
the bed when it happened.  "Shilling for that lot," I said, "Not quite a
bucket-full, though!"

     As he calmed down Andrew looked down at the creamy mess on his stomach
and belly.  His smile showed his realisation he was developing. "Gosh,
Lachs," he said, "Mine's getting just like yours!"

     He insisted that his goats had to be milked by a real expert so to
giggles and satisfied "Aaaah"'s from both of us our 'milk' soon appeared
under his expert fingers.

     We lay huddled together after that, alert for any sounds from the
dreadful world outside, but safe in our own camaraderie.  No sounds came
and we slept.

                         *

     Young Georgie was waiting patiently down at the boat house when we got
down there after breakfast.  Lachlan did his expert rowing and all four
landed safely on the other bank.  Nanny Saunders had supplied us with loads
of sandwiches and bottles of pop which Lachlan and I had to carry.  Georgie
and Andrew set off together and we could hear them laughing and chatting as
we sauntered along behind them.

     Lachlan was in a contemplative mood.  We chatted a bit but, as we
strolled along looking over hedges and peering into the gardens of the
cottages we passed, he really had little to say.  In the end we sat on the
top of a five-barred gate while the two others were exploring a rather
murky stream which flowed under the road nearby.  There was silence again,
then Lachlan turned to me.

     "Jacko," he said quietly, "You know that other thing boys can do...."
He looked at me.  I nodded.  I knew what he meant.  "Is it good?  I mean,
did you like it....?"  This was difficult.  How could I express my
feelings? Each time I supposed there had been an element of exploration but
finally I knew that I would only ever want to do it to, or have it done by,
someone I trusted deeply, and dare I think it, perhaps loved in some way.
I thought of Matt and Mike.  Two friends I trusted and felt very close to.
Tom and my cousin Alun - accepting, big-hearted, would be others to trust,
for ever....  In the silence between us we heard Georgie upbraiding Andrew
"Thass not an ould newt, ya gret lummox!".  I spoke slowly and carefully.

     "I think you'd know if you wanted someone in that way."  I nodded.
"It's been great but it is much more than some of the other things."

     "I just wondered," he said, "I suppose I'm curious about it.  Andrew's
a bit young to have heard all the things I've heard."  He looked at me.  I
wondered what he thought.  Perhaps mulling over - here is a boy, barely two
months older than his younger brother, knowing and doing all sorts of
things he had only ever heard about - he was nearly seventeen, and....  He
spoke softly.  "Do you think we could?"  He looked across at where Georgie
and Andrew were now scooping up piles of mud to make a dam. "I don't want
Andrew to know..., yet...., but I trust you." He smiled .  "And we are to
be cousins and we are friends, aren't we?"

     I said it would be difficult keeping things from Andrew.  Where would
we go? When?  Andrew would sense something was going on.  He smiled and
nodded.  Some sort of pact had been made.

     Georgie and Andrew were now tired of mucking about in the stream.
Georgie was definitely in charge.  "Do you get that there ould mud off of
you, Andrew, do your moither'll give you what for!"

     The lads came up to us.  Andrew, arms mud-caked, stood in front of us
and eyed us suspiciously.

     "And what have you two old codgers been planning?"  He stood, arms
akimbo.  Two streaks of mud also adorned his face and his hair looked as if
he been pulled through a hedge backwards.  I was reminded of the
illustration of Just William on the cover of one of the volumes I had.

     "For God's sake boy, clean yourself up and leave us in peace," said
Lachlan, in mock exasperation and the sort of tones one heard from irate
schoolmasters.

     Georgie stood beside Andrew, taller than him by inches even at the age
of twelve, and looked him up and down.  "Thass a daft booger you hev for a
brother, Lachlan, he knas nought about nawthing. Him, he wants to get up
early in't morning to get some sun in his brain!"

     The 'daft booger' turned on his adversary who skittered off, laughing,
over the field with Andrew in hot pursuit.  The two old codgers grinned at
each other.  Andrew had met his match.

     The pair chased around, Georgie evading Andrew at every move, until
they ended up panting in front of us.  Georgie turned to Andrew. "Do they
together look like a pair o' they old crows up there?  You'd a think their
old arses're nailed to thet there gate when us are needing some good
vittles.  We'm parched and hungry, eh, Andrew?"

     Lachlan pointed Andrew to the stream where he attempted to clean off
some of the mud.  We unpacked the food in the haversacks and sat and ate
and chatted.  Georgie was a revelation.  He had won a scholarship much
younger than most and was at a prestigious Ipswich school.  "Some o' they
daft boogers there think I'm a bit simple 'cos I'm proper Suffolk.  They
call me Suffolk swede or turnip-top and want ta know if I have mangel-
wurzels for breakfast.  I hev 'em though, cos I got the Form prize just
now!  And last year!"  He looked at Andrew.  "He ain't slow, neither, I'll
sey that.  He'll larn!"  High praise!  Georgie was obviously the apple of
his granddad's eye and this was reciprocated in the way the lad spoke of
the old man.  Lachlan asked if he'd heard from his brother and the lad's
eyes lit up.  "Thass old Billy, he do well!  He drives a tank.  Grandad
says if he drives that like that old tractor the Jerries'll be a-dying
laughing and forget to shoot!"

     After finishing the last of the food we continued our walk and, at the
end of a straggling village, an elderly lady asked us if we would like to
have some gooseberries.  The big reddish yellow fruit were delicious and
Georgie warned Andrew who was stuffing himself and complaining about the
prickles on the bushes, "Do you eat too many of they goosegogs, bor, do you
get the runs!".  We thanked the lady who was laughing at Georgie's warning
and walked on.  We had circled round, which I hadn't realised, and ended up
at the end of the track which led across the mud flat to where we had left
the boat.  On arrival, all safe and sound, on our side of the river,
Georgie turned to Lachlan.  "Fur a furriner you'm got good Suffolk ways and
so'um your brother and that gret dark cousin of yourn.
  I thank ye, kindly!"  He turned and walked off towards the lane to the
farm and his precious goats.  There was a twelve-year-old with an ancient
head on his shoulders!  Aunt Della said that when we recounted our
adventure later.  As she explained, although she had been born here and so
had Lachlan and Andrew, their roots were not yet considered as deep as the
natives of the area, they were still 'foreigners'.  But, Georgie had made
that first step of acceptance.

     Of course, when we arrived back Uncle Edward was there, as usual,
deckchair, papers and the inevitable glass of something stimulating.  We
approached quietly, bare-chested, our shirts tied round our waists.  He
looked up and gasped in mock horror.

     "Call out the Sepoys, it's Mowgli and the Bandar-log!  Ha, ha!
'Brother, thy tail hangs down behind'!" he declaimed, pointing at Andrew
who had one sleeve of his shirt trailing behind him.  "And where have you
been my weary, mud-spattered son-to-be?"  He didn't wait for an answer. His
gaze was then directed at Lachlan and me.  "The respectable ones!
Congratulations to your uncle and your soon-to-be-father.
Lieutenant-Colonel Edward Charles Thomson, at your service, sirs."

     We all rushed over to him.  He laughed as we congratulated him.
Andrew said it was worth five-bob for each of us as he must be being paid
millions now.  He was called a mercenary little toad and whacked on his
backside though he clung to Edward's arm trying to shake his hand.  Uncle
Edward said he was taking their mother into Ipswich that evening to
celebrate but there were special rations for us which Nanny Saunders had in
the kitchen for later.

     The congratulations were interrupted by Andrew getting up from where
he was kneeling by the deckchair and rushing indoors.  Ten minutes later he
came back.  No, he hadn't been to see what the supper rations were.
"Gooseberries" was his only answer to our question of where had he been.
Of course, when his mother then appeared, wrinkling her nose, we
tittle-tattled to her that he had gorged himself on the lady's fruit and
was suffering as a consequence.  He was ordered inside to be dosed with Dr
Collis Browne's Compound by Nanny Saunders and we had a quiet half-hour
without him while we told Uncle Edward and Aunt Della about Georgie and our
adventure.  The pair of us then wandered down to the boat-house and sat on
the little jetty.

     "I want you to do it to me," Lachlan said slowly and deliberately as
we sat there, sucking on the ends of pieces of grass we had picked on the
way, "I trust you...., and I know we like each other...."  He stopped, he
was nervous about saying more.  He didn't need to, there was genuine
affection between us.  I had felt that with both brothers that first night.
There was nothing to add.  I nodded and the pact was sealed more securely.

     The extra rations was a sumptuous pork pie which Uncle had wheedled
from the Mess Steward saying it was one less pound of fat on the
Commandant's belly.  Aunt Della shook her head in mock disapproval.  She
looked very smart as they got into the old cab and Nanny Saunders said she
was going to stroll up to the farm to see old Mrs Catchpole and Andrew was
told to mind his tongue when he said there must be some new gossip around.
Lachlan and I were told to keep an eye on him and she would be back soon.

     It was early evening still - warm and bright.  As we heard the door
close behind Nanny Saunders Andrew looked at us.

     "If you two want to go off to the boat-house I don't mind.  But it's
my turn tomorrow night.  I'll be better then.  You'd better take one of
those old blankets in the chest on the landing in case you get splinters."
He smiled his quirky smile.

     Lachlan looked at him and shook his head.

     "There's not much you don't know, is there?"

     Andrew smiled back and nodded.  "I love the pair of you, but you'd
better get going before Nanny Saunders gets back."

     I went upstairs and found a blanket, Andrew smiled and waved as I
passed the drawing-room door on the way out.  I joined a rather nervous
Lachlan on the path near the boat-house.  We didn't say anything to each
other as I spread the blanket on the wooden landing by the side of the
boat.  Lachlan closed the doors and the boat-house was lit by the sunlight
through the roof window.  Silently we took off our shirts and shorts and
plimsolls and lay side by side on the blanket.  He moved his head towards
me, his mouth open.  I met his lips and we pressed our tongues gently then
more forcefully into each others mouths.  We had our arms round each other
and both were massaging each other's backs and feeling those humps and
ridges and those prominent muscles both of us had developed in our
buttocks.  His hand came up to my neck and he held my head tightly against
his open mouth.  I forced a hand between us and felt our erect lengths,
side by side, pulsing with our increasing heart- beats.  I put my hand
further down and cupped both ball sacs and weighed those precious
possessions carefully as he clasped and unclasped his hand rhythmically on
my buttock.  He was very worked up very quickly.

     "Please do it to me first...., teach me," he whispered as he moved his
head away and started to nibble my ear. "There's something in my shorts
pocket.  I think we'll need it."

     He rolled slightly away.  "Bradley said if I wanted to do it to him I
had to use this.  But we haven't.  He wanted me to, but I was a bit
scared."

     'This' was a small jar of Vaseline.  I knew all about that.  I
whispered back that it was perfect.  I got him to roll onto his back and
raise his legs a bit and then leaned over him and we tongue-fucked again.
I had dipped my first two fingers into the jar so I slowly felt down
between his legs and circled his tightly closed hole with a dry finger.  He
winced slightly at the contact then relaxed.  I then gently put some of the
jelly onto his hole and massaged around it.  As he relaxed more I carefully
pressed the tip of my second finger against the wrinkled bud.  My greasy
finger prised open the closed ring and stayed there.  I used my first
finger to massage more jelly round and pressed a little more.  Almost
imperceptibly my second finger went further in and I felt his muscular ring
pulse round it.  He was so relaxed I pushed more and the finger went deeper
into the warm cavity.  While it was in I pressed my first finger against it
and his slit opened more.  He groaned as this second finger entered him.  I
stopped and we continued to tongue-fuck and he was still exploring my back
and neck and buttocks.  As I had found before, that slow approach and the
slow almost unnoticeable widening using two fingers made the next step so
much easier to accomplish.

     I worked my fingers back and forth for several minutes.  He was
becoming very worked up.  The claspings and probings on my back were
becoming more insistent and almost violent.  It was raising my own
temperature too so I knew I must act soon.  I rolled on top of him and
almost instinctively he crossed his legs round my back.  I looked down at
his face and he smiled. Gently, I shifted my body so my shaft rested
against my probing fingers.  Gradually, I guided it until the tip touched
the slightly opened hole.  I pushed and took my fingers out at the same
time keeping my eyes fixed on his.  If he showed the slightest pain or
discomfort I knew I would not continue however much I needed to for my own
benefit.  I felt the tightness of his muscle.  The tightness eased and the
thick head of my prick entered him.  I lay very still.  There had been the
slightest quiver on his face, not fear, just a look of 'what was that?'.  I
judged I could continue so pressed slightly again.  Another quarter of an
inch or so of me moved into him.  We were still intently staring at each
other.  He nodded very slightly, I pushed more and I was slowly enveloped.
With great care I withdrew a bit and pushed again.  He looked at me
transfixed as I began to press and withdraw in gradually more and more
wider sweeps, back and forth.  He closed his eyes and his smile changed to
a peaceful set of his lips.  I leaned down and touched his forehead with my
lips as his hips began to move up and down to meet my thrusts and aid my
withdrawals.

     "More," he whispered, "More.., more...,"

     My prick was then about three quarters of its length in him.  I gave a
slightly greater push and sank right in.  He had his arms round me and held
me so tight I could only make small movements.  But these were enough, I
felt his warm seed spurt out against me just before my own was given up to
him as deeply as I could.  After a minute or so of him clinging to me like
this we rolled onto our sides and I slowly withdrew my still hard prick
from him.  That was the time he gasped.  The intruder had been accepted,
willingly, unreservedly.  It had been withdrawn after giving of its whole
self.  It wasn't a gasp of pain, but of loss.

     He nuzzled my face.  "Oh, Jacko!" he murmured.

     We lay just caressing each other's backs.  No longer the frenzy but
the quietness of intimacy.  This process went on for uncountable time until
I knew he was ready to find pleasure in me.  Slowly and deliberately I
found the jar.  I put his fingers into its contents.  He copied my previous
actions, tenderly anointing me, then seeking my compliance to his probing
finger.  I knew I wanted him, his finger entered me easily.  The
exploration was slow, deliberate, intentional.  One finger, two fingers,
probing, questing.  I was ready very quickly and moved him between my legs
and lay on my back.  My knees were raised with my feet on the ground.  His
slim, lithe young body fitted between my legs perfectly and I was an easy
target for that long, steel-hard rod of his.  I was so ready he had no
difficulty in pressing the whole of that mushroom headed monster fully into
me with a few thrusts of his muscular buttocks.  His needs were urgent.  I
doubt if he made forty desperately intense thrusts before he came a second
time that evening.  His whole body seemed aflame as he jerked and forced
his spunk deep, then deeper, into me.  He collapsed on top of me groaning
and clutching at my shoulders.  I put my arms round him to show he was
safe.  He lathered my face with kisses, ardent, fiery, hot-blooded,
passionate.  He was lost in sensations which I had experienced myself
before, but this was his first time.  Hot tears dropped on my face. I
hugged him closer and I could feel his hips still jerking uncontrollably
against me forcing the remains of that gift of himself into me.

     His all-consuming raging ardour died down.  I kissed his eyes, his
cheeks, his ears, his lips.  We nuzzled and nipped, caressed and stroked,
gradually reducing the heat and fervour of those two all-consuming displays
of unrestrained passion.  His hard prick softened and fell away from me and
he moved so we could lie side by side again.

     "You...?" he whispered as he realised I hadn't come a second time and
my prick was still hard. "For you...," he murmured as he ringed my cock and
slowly wanked me until I spurted, filling his hand with my boy-cream.  "Oh,
Jacko...," he whispered, as we lay so still willing time to stop.

     Slowly, gradually, we recovered some semblance of sense.  He still
held me tightly having rid himself of my load onto the edges of the
blanket.

     "Oh, Jacko," he said, with such feeling, "Please don't think I'm silly
but I never knew I could feel so safe and secure with someone since I heard
that dad had been killed.  I want to tell you things I haven't been able to
tell anyone else.  I know mum loves me and Andrew loves me and I'm sure
Edward and Nanny do, but I'm not at home, I'm with friends at school, and
there's always this feeling, who am I?  I worry and wonder if things are
alright.  I'm nearly seventeen, I should be nearly grown-up but I've never
had anyone to talk to like this."  He looked into my eyes.  "You
understand, I know you do.  You couldn't share such things as we've done
tonight if you didn't care and know....  That wasn't just an experiment,
was it?  You wanted the best for me and I did for you."

     There were so many ideas and thoughts here I was a little bewildered.
I was only fourteen, no, almost fifteen, and Lachlan was so much older and
although I knew I was thinking much more deeply about things and having
unfamiliar thoughts at times, Lachlan hadn't been able to resolve his
doubts and worries which I had a feeling were mounting up for me as well.
I realised our lives were different.  I was at home with a loving mother
and father.  He had never really known a continuous home-life.  School was
home to him, other boys, a constant discipline of watching every move you
made in case....  In case what?  I dimly perceived his quandary.  What
could I say?  I was an inexperienced boy but I knew I could think.

     "Lachlan," I said meditatively, stroking the back of his head, "You
can only be who you are.  No one can take that away from you.  I've only
known you a week but it seems as if I've known you all my life.  I mean,
you have shown me how good, kind, thoughtful, considerate you are.
Everyone knows that.  Even that imp, as you call him, knows that.  I was
quite frightened at the thought of meeting you.  I knew the first time I
saw your smile I was safe and secure, too.  Perhaps all those worries are
inside us to make us think.  I know I have to think.  I know my friends
have to think.  Tom and Matt have confided in me.  We all have worries and
we have to think to help solve them and perhaps be brave enough to confide
in someone else."

     I was getting to the limits of how I might express myself but Lachlan
knew and I knew we had both crossed a kind of hurdle tonight.

     "I think you could talk to Uncle Edward.  He may seem jokey but he's
wise as well, my cousins think so and I think so too.  You're going to be
lucky to have him for a dad.  He wouldn't treat you and Andrew as he does
if he didn't love you."

     Lachlan put a hand between my shoulders and stroked me, I knew,
tenderly.  "Thanks, Jacko.  Thanks for everything."

     We lay quietly for a few more minutes but knew then that time had
passed.  We folded the blanket and stowed it in the roof cavity and
discovered a horde of soft boat cushions and other paraphernalia up there.
We pulled on our shorts, shirts and plimsolls and strolled side by side
back to the house.  All was quiet.  We both had a quick wash in the
downstairs lav and then Lachlan slipped up the stairs and came back to
report that the Imp of Satan was fast asleep and looked like a holy cherub
now.  We raided the kitchen and were eating a hunk of pork pie each in the
drawing-room and trying to play Snap at the same time when Nanny came back
looking as if she'd gained the secrets of the universe.

     Lachlan looked up, a mischievous grin on his face. "And what did
Auntie Flo have to tell you? Lots of shaking of old heads and tut-tutting,
I expect!  Georgie told me that Peggy Finch is expecting.....  Is it true?"

     Nanny Saunders looked at him, she was used to him.  "Young people like
you shouldn't discuss such things and when I see young Georgie he'll feel
the flat of my hand for spreading such gossip.  His Grandma didn't know
about it until yesterday so how did he know?  Anyway, poor girl, she isn't
any better than she should be and it's all that sailor's fault..."

     "Who's spreading gossip now?  Who's the sailor?"

     "Don't ask such questions - just because I go and see my cousin
doesn't mean we spend all night discussing things like that."

     "Most of the night, then?" queried Lachlan, moving sharply out of the
way of an advancing Nanny Saunders.

     Before she got to him she stopped.  "And where is that Andrew?  Up to
no good somewhere I'll be bound.  Where is he?  He's not messing about in
your mother's room putting things in their bed...."  She stopped.  A truth
had been revealed.

     Lachlan looked at me and winked. "No, Nanny, the poor little thing is
asleep in his bed, dead to the world.  You must have dosed him up well with
that stuff for his runs 'cause it's knocked him out completely."

     "So you've had a quiet evening without him, eh?  And what have you
been doing?  Why do you keep grinning at each other?  You haven't been
putting things in my bed, have you? I haven't forgiven you and that imp for
that toad!"

     "Gosh, Nanny that was when I was ten, that's seven years ago.  I
thought only elephants...."

     He dived for cover, his arms protectively round his head as she put
two strong hands round his neck..  "Lachlan Cameron, you may be nearly
seventeen, but you know who's in charge and Nanny's never forget.  I
remember...."

     "Please don't, Nanny, you'll tell him about...." came a muffled plea.

     "....I could tell him everything from the moment you were born to this
very day.  How...."  She looked at me and smiled, "I could tell you about
his father...." She took her hands away.  There was a faraway look in her
eye.  "It would have been his father's birthday tomorrow.  Edward has taken
his mother out to celebrate that as well as her birthday on Tuesday and his
promotion.  We didn't celebrate that awful September the third, that day
this war started, as he'd been called to duty in London....," She shook her
head.
  "....and we couldn't celebrate his next birthday with him because he had
gone.  But his memory is with us.  Never forget that, Lachlan! ....And I
shall go on remembering you, too, and that brother of yours!"

     I could see that Lachlan's family had been her whole life.  Lachlan's
father had been born in Scotland but I'd learned that his parents had moved
to another house nearby when his father came to England for work shortly
afterwards.  Nanny Saunders as a young girl come into the household as a
nursemaid and had stayed.  He had married Della, the daughter of close
neighbours, and they had inherited this house when her parents died.  Nanny
Saunders stayed on.  Over forty years! She was entitled to her memories!

     She went out of the room saying we would need something more to eat
and drink before bedtime.  She produced some cheese and pickles - cheese
specially made at the farm as a little, keeping in practice, activity for
her cousin.  She said cheese before bedtime made you dream but ours would
be happy ones she was sure.

     She said she was having an early night and went upstairs.  We sat
together and ate the tasty food, took the plates and cups into the kitchen
and went to the bedroom.  The cherub was still asleep.  We undressed and
washed quietly so as not to disturb him.
  We lay facing each other just looking into each other's eyes.  "Thank
you," he whispered and I repeated it, "Thank you".  We slept.  I did stir
much later.  The noise of a motor.  I thought it was another attack.  No,
it was the ancient cab returning the celebrants.  Lachlan roused slightly,
grunted and was asleep again.


To Be continued:...................