Date: Tue, 02 Apr 2002 21:08:12 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad123@hotmail.com>
Subject: Flip's Tale:  Sequel  S5 to S8

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.


				Flip's Tale

				    By

				   Joel


			The Sequel:    Autumn 2000

Continued:...

			   S5:  Wayne's Whirled

     I did relent and put the record straight as we went into the bathroom
and tried to shower together.  He responded by unfairly kneeing me out of
the shower, dripping wet and still soaped up.  We were still horsing around
when the backdoor bell rang.  I hastily tied a bath towel round me and went
through to the kitchen.  A rather goggle-eyed short lad of my age stood
there, dressed in smart dungarees and carrying a bag.  Before I, or he, had
a chance to speak nosey Tom came up behind me, also attired in a bath towel
and rubbing his hair with a hand towel.

     "Oh, hi there, Wayne," said Tom, "Come to measure up for the shelves?"

     Wayne stared a moment longer, "Och, Tam, I heerd you'da moved across
here.  How ya, eh?"

     I stood aside and beckoned Wayne in.  His accent was more pronounced
than Tom's.  As he passed me I appraised him.  About five seven, slim,
dark-haired, blue eyes, ready smiling expression.

     "Ma aunt saw ya yesterday lumping ya stuff across and told ma sister
Marcie last night you'da staying here cos your dad is promoted and going
off."

     At least, the bush telegraph was alive and kicking.  Wayne, and
whoever had heard of a good young Scot called Wayne?, was well away.
Except that he was stopped in his verbal tracks by Tom.

     "Look, Wayne, I'll show you Flip's brother's room and you can measure
there while we get dressed and then you can measure in ours.  You know what
he wants in there, don't you?"

     I was rather glad Tom had suggested Stuart's room be looked at first.
At least the bed would be tidy.  I pictured our bed, duvet scattered and
evidence of the night on the sheets.  Not a sight for Wayne and his roving
tongue.  Tom ushered Wayne along past our room and the intervening bathroom
and Wayne disappeared into Stuart's room.  I looked at Tom, raised my
eyebrows and he grinned.  I felt my chin - no time for a shave today - and
went into our room.  As envisaged the bed was a mess.  Two largish patches
were evident on the bottom sheet.  I hurriedly pulled the duvet across as
Tom came in.  He saw the need and helped me cover the evidence.

     "Wayne was in my class at school," he informed me, "He left at sixteen
to work for his father who's got a builder's business near Fort William.
He's a great lad but mouthy.  We played in the same football team."

      I nodded at this intelligence and he said no more as we went back to
the bathroom to get rid of the soap.  We were back in our room just
finishing dressing when Wayne came to the door.

     "I've made a start," he said.  I listened carefully, translating his
accent.  "Six feet high do?  Then there's a bit across the other side of
the window, shall I measure that up, could make a nice cupboard there?"

     I was sitting on the edge of the bed tying the laces of an old pair of
trainers.  Wayne cast his eyes across.  I could almost see the cogs
turning.  One double bed, two large lads, Tom had said 'ours'.

     I stood up and went with him into Stuart's room.  He was quite voluble
about the improvements which could be done.  All the time, though, he was
taking in the attributes of the room.  I grinned inwardly.  This time: one
double bed, one boy.

     I agreed with what he proposed and then we processed back to our room
as Tom had been a silent witness to the flow of suggestions towards the
end.  Our room was then subjected to a close scrutiny.  Again, most
sensible suggestions were made of what could be done while mental notes
were made of rumpled cast-off boxers and shirts on either side of the
bed.....  I had also detected that slightly musty smell of new sex which
the newly washed would be aware of and I hoped young Wayne's nostrils were
not as cleansed as mine.

     Tom and I left him to his measuring and went through to the kitchen
where Aunt Margaret had left a note propped against the coffee pot.
'Please put washer on when filled.'

     I asked Tom what he would like for breakfast and we both decided on
cereals followed by toast so all this was in train when Wayne emerged,
tapped on the door and came in.

     "Can I set my measurements down in here?" he asked.

     I pointed to the stool the other side of the kitchen table and shifted
a space for him.  I must say he was most efficient.  Rapid, neat sketches
were made and filled in with the sizes.  Tom and I chomped through our
breakfast watching him.  I pointed to the coffee-pot, Wayne nodded and Tom
got up and poured him a mug.  Three spoonfuls of sugar were stirred in and
the sketching went on.  I thought I'd better start the washing off and one
item would be our bottom sheet.  I scurried off and came back with that,
plus a pile of tops, boxers, underpants and socks collected from both our
rooms.  There was already some of Aunt Margaret's things by the washer.
Wayne looked up as I opened the washer door and began to stuff things in.

     "You mustn't mix those coloured things with those whites," he said
authoritatively.

     I looked over at him.  I generally shoved all in and set the dial and
switched on.

     "What do you mean?" I asked, "How do you know?"

     "If you'd got three older sisters you'd soon learn," he said,
grinning, "I'd have my ears boxed if they saw me doing what you've just
done.  Take all that stuff out."

     He got up and came over to me.

     "You've got plenty of whites to do on a hot wash," he said, picking
out the sheet and holding it up.  Oh, sod it, I thought, he'll see.  "Then
there's these as well."  He held up two of Aunt Margaret's white coats she
wore in the surgery.  "And all these hankies, they need boiling really."

     "You'll make someone a lovely wife, Wayne," Tom said, laughing.

     "Fuck you, Tam McLaren, you wouldn't last a morning with those sisters
of mine."

     He continued deftly to pack things in the washer.  He closed the door,
put washing powder in the holder and turned the dial.  He came over and sat
down again.  He continued to fill in the sketch, now of our room.

     "And I tell ye," he continued, without looking up, "You mustnae do all
those knickers and boxers and things on a hot wash or they'll shrink and
they won't fit round anyone's arse."  He pronounced the last word in the
delightful Scots way as 'erse'.  "I got a right slapping for doing that
with my sisters' bits and pieces and I telt them they wouldnae fit anyone's
erse afore anyway.  They slapped me again for that.  I'm always getting
slapped."

     He sighed.  "All they think and talk about is boys.  They want doing
sae bad I telt them if I was'nae their brither they'd a had ma breeks round
ma ankles years ago.  I got slapped for that, too."  He looked up at me and
Tom slyly.  "You wouldnae want to take a coupla off ma hands, would ya?  I
know he's got enough and I expect ya have too.  They're begging for it but
they've nae got near it yet for all their trying."

     What was Wayne fishing for?  Both Tom and I laughed, me a bit
hesitantly.  Tom came to the rescue.

     "No good, Wayne," he said, chuckling, "We're off to Edinburgh and we
can't take excess baggage, or baggages."

     Wayne did have the grace to laugh too.  "But what about his brother.
He's a braw lad, I saw him this morning with that rogue Archie Ferguson
waiting for the school bus."  He looked at me, "He's like you.  What about
him?"

     "It's no good, Wayne, he's not fifteen yet for a couple of months and,
anyway, he's worried whether he would be big enough."

     Tom shot me a sharp look and, of course, I'd let Stuart's worry out
and where would that gobbet of prime gossip get to now.

     Wayne sniggered.  "I'd say as long as it's stiff and greasy they'd sit
on any pole.  Mine's only five and a half as he'll tell you and no one's
complained yet!"

     I looked at Tom who closed his eyes resignedly.  Something I would
have to ask him later!  By this time Wayne had completed his drawings.  He
held them up for inspection.  They were very good.  Not a rough sketch but
a very detailed depiction of what he was planning.

     "They're very good, Wayne," I said, "You're quite an artist."

     His eyes met mine.  There was a recognition of something in his look.
What I'd said had sparked a memory.

     "I know where I've seen you before," he said.  "The laird's son's got
you drawn on his wall."

     The laird's son?  Pete Douglas!

     "Oh, yes," Wayne went on, "My dad got the job of repairing the roof
over that side of the house and I've been doing the woodwork inside.
That's were I've been for the past three weeks.  I saw the drawings and
talked to the lad, his name's Pete isn't it?"
  I nodded.  "I took some of my drawings and paintings in and we had
several chats.  He's a bonny lad isn't he?"

     I explained I'd been at school with him and he'd actually stayed here
for part of the summer.  He nodded.

     "Have you seen that one of you?"

     I said I had.  He smiled.

     "Not the one in the frame."  His eyes travelled down my chest.  I got
the message.  I had seen the ones of his pals at school that were on
display.  "It's very good,." he averred, "Pity you can't have one of my
sisters you'd be just right for her."

     Tom had sized up the situation and got up and went and stood behind
Wayne.  He crossed his arms and caught hold of Wayne's ears, one in each
hand.  He lifted Wayne up from the stool and, by uncrossing his arms, Wayne
whirled round to face him.
  Tom held him at arms length.  He spoke slowly and deliberately.

     "You'll get a bloody good slapping from me, Wayne, if you don't behave
and I'm bigger than your sisters.  In fact, if you're not careful I might
start right now."

     Wayne looked quite scared.

     "OK, OK, I know, I wouldnae say anything 'cause you did help me at
school."

     "Too true, you deserved being beaten up after what you said there but
I did stop them, but it was mainly because we needed you in the team."

     Poor Wayne, a deep blush rushed neck upwards.

     "You should never have said what you saw Willie McBride and Charlie
doing in the boiler-room.  You had a dirty mind and a big mouth then and if
I hadn't stood up for you you'd have lost even your less than five and a
half inches at that time.  Don't worry Wayne, I also stood up for you
'cause we were friends as well!"

     He let go of Wayne's now bright red ears and he dropped back
thankfully onto the stool.  Tom patted him on the top of his head and
winked at me across the table.

     "When we want an example of a short dick in our studies we'll get him
as a prime exhibit, eh, Flip?  You could have come and examined him when I
was holding him up just now, he always had it hanging out at school!"

     Poor Wayne, he went even redder.  Put the poor lad out of his misery.

     "Come on, Wayne," I said, "Let's have some more coffee and I'd like to
see some of your drawings as well sometime.  Young Pete wants to go to Art
College, what about you?"

     He shook his head.  He said he was quite happy working at his
carpentry and drawing and painting in his spare time.  He said he liked
working with his hands and he was quite content.  When he was ready to go
he promised to make the best job he'd ever done and said he would bring
some of his work with him when he started on Monday.

     After he went I got the confession from Tom that he and Wayne had been
guilty of the same act of mutual stimulation as Wayne had blabbed about
Willie and Charlie so he was covering himself and several others in their
group of friends.  I taunted him about having to slap such a wee cock but
we just ended up in fits of laughter imagining what Wayne had deduced from
his visit.  At least, with his advice, our knickers would still fit our
`erses'!  We then went and spent an informative hour with Stuart's
print-out before starting work in the garden and on the bungalow.

                    S6: Action Stations for Archie

     Stuart was actually quite cheerful when he arrived back from school.
I think he was much relieved that it wasn't too different from his previous
one.  He said a couple of the boys had called him a Sassenach and had
started to say something about his accent but this had stopped once Archie
said something to them.  Tom said it was best to ignore ignorance and he
should find boys were boys anywhere.  God, what that boy eats, too!  I had
to put away the tin of scones after he'd devoured three with the two mugs
of tea he had while telling us all this.  He wanted to know if we had seen
the print-out and we said we had.  We also told him Wayne would be starting
on his room on Monday.  He wanted to know who Wayne was and we said we'd
arranged for his three sisters to come to tea on Saturday which scared him
sufficiently to wash up the tea things without being kicked and pummelled
which he then tried to do to us when we disabused him of the plan.  He went
off to his room saying he was going to read the print-out and if we wanted
a copy we would have to print out our own.

     On Friday afternoon when Stuart arrived home from school I was alone
in the sitting- room reading an introductory textbook of General Medicine I
had found on the shelves in Aunt Margaret's study.  I was fascinated and
knew I was going to enjoy studying.  The main thing worrying me was
learning all the long Latin names and so on in the anatomy text I'd looked
at previously.

     Stuart looked a bit sombre as he walked in.  I asked how school had
gone and he said it was OK and he'd the first batch of homework to do and
would I check it for him when he'd done it.  Then he came and sat by me on
the sofa.

     "Can I ask you something, Flip?" he began.

      I immediately said he could and he continued.

     "I think there's something wrong with Archie," he said slowly.

     "What's wrong?" I asked, realising Stuart was truly anxious.

     "He's got a lump on his testicle and there's a poster at the school
the boys were laughing at saying boys should test for lumps 'cause they can
be dangerous."

     My usually telegraphic brother was obviously worried.  I'd seen a
telly programme about the same thing one holiday time and had that night
surreptitiously felt my balls very carefully after undressing ready for
bed.

     "How do you know and does Archie know?"

     "I felt it and told him last week," was the straight reply.

     "What, were you looking for lumps?"

     He shook his head.  "Please, Flip, don't get angry, but it was when we
were doing things.  He wanted me to hold them and I was feeling them and I
said he'd got another ball growing cause I could feel this pea on his left
one.  He laughed and said he needed three balls.  But we saw that poster
today and he's worried and so am I.  D'you think I should tell Aunt
Margaret?"

     Wow!  What to do?  I thought for a moment.

     "Where's Archie now?" I asked.

     "He went home all upset and there's no one there 'til his mum comes
home."

     "Go and get him and I'll talk to him and say he should see Aunt
Margaret as soon as possible, OK?"

     Stuart nodded and went off.  Both boys arrived in less than five
minutes.  Archie's eyes were a bit red.  I made him sit beside me.

     "Look, Archie," I said, "Stuart's told me what he found.  Don't worry
I won't say how you found out but you should see my aunt as soon as
possible.  Can you wait until the morning because she's got evening
surgery."

     Poor lad, two tears welled up in the tough guy's eyes.  Stuart sat
beside him and held his hand.

     "Come on, Archie, it'll be alright.  They'll do something for you."

     Archie nodded and I got up and went to the kitchen to make a pot of
tea as I had put the kettle on as soon as Stuart had gone to fetch Archie.
When I got back with three mugs of tea and a plate of scones Archie was
sitting with his head on Stuart's shoulder and Stuart had his arm round
him.

     "Here you are, Archie," I said, "I know it's worrying but my aunt will
deal with it."

     Archie nodded and took the mug I handed to him.

     "I don't want to be ill," he said with a tremor in his deep voice,
"There was a boy last year who had to go to hospital and he didn't come
back."

     I said he wasn't to think things like that and we managed to get him
off the topic of illness and sat and chatted and drank tea and ate scones
until just before six when he said he'd go home.  I said he needn't say
anything to his mum and dad but that I would talk to my aunt and he should
come across next morning at nine and I expected she'd examine him then.  He
did look a bit apprehensive when I said this but I said aunt was a doctor
and examined everyone, including him at least, I expected, when he was a
baby.  He did grin then and Stuart went off across to his house with him
promising he'd fetch him in the morning.

     Tom came home soon after Stuart got back and we told him the sad
story.
  He didn't question Stuart's tale but just accepted the straightforward
account which Stuart gave of discovering the lump.  He nodded in agreement
when I said I'd talk to Aunt Margaret as soon as she came home.

     As soon as Aunt Margaret came in and demanded G's and T all round, I
asked if I could speak to her privately.  We went into the fourth bedroom
which doubled, or trebled, as her study and emergency consulting room.  I
told her exactly what had happened, even to the fact that Stuart had
spotted the lump.  She looked at me quizzically.  I shook my head.  I knew
what she was wondering.  I grinned.

     "No, it's not that," I said, "He's straight, as the terminology goes.
It was just boys together."

     She didn't bat an eyelid.  I wondered if girls were just girls
together in the same way.

     "Right," she said in her usual brisk manner, "You did the right thing.
I'll see him at nine in the morning.  He doesn't have to tell his parents
yet."  She smiled at me.  "You'd be surprised the number of girls I see who
daren't tell their parents certain things.  With boys it's much less often,
usually they're frightened they might have picked something up and they
generally ask to see Jimmie Henderson.  Anyway, I would like you and Tom to
be there when I examine him.  I'll ask his permission but it'll be for two
reasons.  It'll be better for him to have male support and it'll be
experience for you two.  Can't start your training too soon, can we?"

     Nothing more was said that evening and I told Tom what Aunt Margaret
had said as we lay in bed.  Sex that night was again slow and very intense.
It was strange.  Both yesterday and today we only came once each but I know
for me it was quite sufficient.  I shall have to discuss this with Tom to
see if it's the same for him.

     We were all up bright and early.  Aunt Margaret was pleased with our
progress in the garden and the beginning of the painting of the rear of the
bungalow.  Over breakfast she told Stuart that she would like him to wait
in his bedroom while she examined Archie and, if he was agreeable, then Tom
and I would be in with her as potential medical students in training.  I
knew Stuart wanted to be there as well but he didn't say anything and just
said he wanted Archie to be alright.

     Stuart went off about ten to nine and came back with a rather pensive
looking Archie.  >From his fairly frequent sniff I knew he'd had a weep
during the night.  Stuart disappeared off and Aunt Margaret asked Archie if
Tom and I could be present when she examined him.  A look of some relief
crossed his face and he nodded.  We went along to the makeshift consulting
room here Aunt Margaret had laid a sheet of absorbent paper over the single
bed.

     "Will you take your shoes and trousers off and lay down, please?" she
asked.

     Archie slipped off his, I noticed, new trainers and rather hesitantly
dropped his jeans and stepped out of them.  Tom picked them up and put them
over the back of a chair.  He lay on the bed which was raised up like the
couch I remembered in the doctor's surgery where I'd been examined once.

     "Now I want you to pull your shirt up and push your pants down because
I've got to feel for any lumps."

     Archie did as he was told, sniffing a bit more as he did.  Stuart was
right.  Archie had a bigger cock than he had.  Even in its quiescent state
it lay fatly and lengthily across his thigh.  Aunt Margaret rubbed her
hands together.

     "Can't have my fingers cold, eh, Archie?"

     With that she lifted the right hand side of his ball sac and felt
round the quite substantial testicle enclosed in it.  Archie winced a bit
and I put a hand out and held his hand nearest to me.  He grasped my hand
in response and gripped it hard.  As Aunt Margaret continued running her
fingers round she looked up and across at Tom and me.

     "This is called palpating," she said, "I'm feeling to see if there is
anything which shouldn't be there.  I'm not going to say anything and I'll
ask Archie if he will allow you two to examine him as well.  That's the
right one done, now the left one."

     She let go of his right ball and began the same procedure with his
left.  It was over in a few moments.

     "Now, Archie, would you let Tom and Flip do the same?  They are going
to be medical students very soon so they have to learn very quickly how to
do things like this."

     Archie looked up at me.  I gripped his hand and he nodded.

     "Right, Tom first."  She turned her attention to him.  "You've seen
what I did, now do it carefully and very gently and don't say anything
until Flip has finished as well."

     Tom went round the bed and copied the movements he had just witnessed.
He looked very gentle as he felt poor Archie's balls.  Then it was my turn.
It was odd.  If I'd been feeling Tom's, or Ghazi's balls in the normal way
I'd have been immediately stiff as a poker.  Here it was different.  The
boy on the bed was a patient to be examined, carefully and clinically.  I
felt his right testicle and felt it slide in its sac.  It was smooth except
for a bit of roughness on the underside.  It was a different story when I
moved my finger around the surface of his left testicle.  On the side I
felt a distinct little lump, about the size of a small pea.  I carefully
lowered his sac.

     "OK, Archie, you get dressed and go and see Stuart in his room, we'll
be out in a moment," Aunt Margaret instructed him.

     Tom handed him his jeans after he'd pulled his pants up.  He picked up
his trainers and went out sniffing.  Aunt Margaret shut the door behind
him.

     "Well, Tom, what did you notice?"

     "A small lump on his left testicle, about pea-sized."

     "And you, Flip?"

     "The same, just by that roughness you can feel."

     Aunt Margaret nodded.  "Yes, very noticeable.  That roughness is his
spermatic cord and the growth is just beside it.  I have to tell you it
could be serious and I want you to go and sit with him while I make a
telephone call, then I'll go across with him to see his parents."  She
smiled at us, "You did well, very professional.  I liked the way you both
dealt with that because it was quite a test for you.  A bit more
interesting though than looking down someone's throat, eh?  You'll find you
have to be rather detached and you coped with that most competently.  Now,
you go and just talk to him.  Don't say what you found, I'll tell him in a
few minutes after my call."

     We went to Stuart's room.  He and Archie were standing together with
Stuart hugging Archie and Archie sobbing.

     "Come on Archie, Aunt Margaret's on the phone and she'll be out in a
moment."

     Stuart guided Archie to the bed and they sat side by side, Archie's
face buried in Stuart's shoulder.  Stuart looked as if he could weep at any
moment.  We all sat in silence for a few minutes until Aunt Margaret came
into the room.

     "Now Archie, please listen.  I've made arrangements for you to go down
to Edinburgh to hospital on Monday.  I know it's a long way but I've just
spoken to a friend who is a consultant there and he'll see you at half past
two on Monday.  All being well you'll only be in hospital a few days."

     Poor Archie really did begin to sob then, his shoulders were heaving
and tears were also forming in Stuart's eyes.  He looked helplessly at me.
I went over and knelt by them and put my hand on Archie's shoulder.

     "Look Archie, I'll tell you what, Tom and I will take you to
Edinburgh.
  We'll drive you down in my car.  It'll be good for us as we both want to
see where we'll be living and we've got friends at the Medical School.
What do you think?  Would that be OK?  I know your parents are very busy
and it's a long way for them to go and take time off work."

     Archie's sobs and sniffs grew less.  He turned his tear-stained face
to me.

     "Please, I would like that, but I don't want to be a nuisance."

     "You're not a nuisance, Archie.  We want to help our brother's best
friend."

     Aunt Margaret came up and stood beside Stuart.

     "That's a very kind offer, Archie, I'll talk to your parents now.
Let's go."

     Stuart helped Archie stand up, towering over him, held him and handed
him a clean hankie.  Archie wiped his eyes and then put on his trainers
which Tom handed him before he followed Aunt Margaret out of the room.  As
soon as we heard the back door shut Stuart burst into tears and rushed over
to me and hugged me.

     "He won't die, will he?" he sobbed, "Poor Archie, I don't want him to
die."

     "No," I said quietly, putting my arms round him, "He'll be OK but
they'll have to do something about that lump."

     We sat Stuart down and Tom hugged him too and said he wasn't to worry
as he was sure whatever it was could be cured.

     Aunt Margaret was gone nearly an hour and when she came back she
wasn't her usual bustling self.

     "I've talked to his mum and dad," she said after she had sat down in
Stuart's easy chair with us three lads ranged along the bed.  "They are
worried just as Archie is.  I explained to them what will happen and after
that he should be quite alright.  As you three are all involved I'll tell
you everything, but," here she looked at Stuart, "none of this goes beyond
this room.  What a doctor knows is confidential and I think you'll be
making a decision soon, won't you?"

      Stuart nodded.  That was the first I knew he'd been thinking about
his future.

      "What Archie has got is likely to be serious if left.  Thanks to
Stuart it's been caught, I would guess, at a very early stage.  If it's
what I think then Archie is very young to have it but it is something that
young teens can develop though the two cases I've seen in the past five
years one was nineteen and the other twenty-five.  It's probably because
Archie developed young, he said his voice broke when he was twelve, but
that's not the cause, it's just that he's very mature for his age."

     Stuart nodded again, he was about to say something but stayed silent.

     "I'm afraid the treatment is rather drastic," Aunt Margaret continued,
"They'll have to remove his left testicle and I guess they'll give him some
chemotherapy after they've done the biopsy.  The biopsy will tell them all
about the growth."

     She saw the look of horror which must have passed over three teenage
faces in front of her.

     "Don't worry, you only need one!" she smiled, "There's lots of boys
who are very singular for all sorts of reasons but he may have problems if
he has to have more chemotherapy.  They do have a solution for that as he
can have a sample frozen in case he wants children later."

     Stuart twitched against me.  Here was his aunt calmly telling him and
us about such things.  Then he relaxed as she went on.

     "His mum and dad would be very grateful if you would take him down to
Edinburgh.  They suggested you went by train but I think you would be OK by
car.  They want to pay for the petrol and you must accept that.  I'm going
across to see his granddad in a moment.  He'll need to be told as he and
Archie are very close and his parents don't feel up to it at the moment as
they want to be with Archie.  Luckily Archie's other sister is training to
be a nurse and she'll be home this afternoon and tomorrow so I'll chat to
her as well.  Archie wants you to go across after lunch, Stuart, and I rely
on you not to say anything to him.  It'll be a test, not only of
friendship, but of trust."

     Stuart nodded and Aunt Margaret got up, smiled at us three solemn
looking lads and went off to see the elder Mr Ferguson.

     If this was what being a doctor was like it was going to be difficult
but I knew I wanted that career.  Stuart was sitting between us.  He put
out his hands and took one of each of ours and squeezed them.

     "Thank you, you've been so kind.  I hope Archie will be OK and I
promise to help him any way I can."

     Friendship and trust.

                    S7: Before the Great Day

     After lunch Tom suggested we went for a run.  It was something we'd
never done before but we changed into shorts, rugby shirts and trainers and
set off.  It was just what we needed.  It released a lot of tension just
loping along in silence along the track beside the loch.  After about four
miles or so we slowed down and sat watching the ripples on the loch
surface.

     "I really want to be a doctor," said Tom softly, "So do you."

     Nothing to say.  I put my hand out and covered the back of his which
was resting on the grass.  After five minutes of silence and getting our
breath back we set off again and must have done a good seven miles before
reaching the bungalow again.  The feelings I had as we entered the back
door were just the same as after an intense loving sex session with Tom.
We showered together.  No nasty kneeing this time.  We soaped each other
and then retired to our bed where we lay and brought each other to a very
satisfactory climax.  We were as one.

     We mopped each other with our handy towel kept purposely under the bed
for such occasions.  We dressed leisurely and went into the kitchen and I
made some tea while Tom looked in the pantry for food.  Aunt Margaret came
back as I was pouring a second mug of tea.  She sat opposite us as I passed
her a mug.  She smiled.

     "I feel as if I've got three good sons," she said, "I may be an old
maid but you're just like my own.  I wish your mother could see you now,
Flip.  I hope when you feel you can you'll contact her."

     I thought about that last statement a lot while I helped Aunt Margaret
get supper.  I couldn't quite steel myself to write just yet.  I wondered
if Stuart was missing Mum?  He never mentioned her and definitely not the
Creep.  I knew he'd sent a couple of cards to her but I hadn't seen any
replies.  Perhaps she was still away licking her wounds having got rid of
Ray.

     Tom laid the table and was instructed to open a bottle of red wine to
go with the rest of the pheasant casserole we were having for supper.  Both
he and I were getting a liking for the wine Aunt had stored away.  She said
the bottles were mainly gifts from grateful patients.  I hoped I might have
such generous patients!

     While the supper was heating up Tom and I had shown Aunt Margaret the
duplicate sketches Wayne had left behind.  She thought they were very good
and she was confident he would make a good job of the improvements to the
two rooms.  I told her about his encounter with Pete and that he would be
bringing some of his work to show us.  Aunt Margaret laughed when we told
her it was now common knowledge about Tom's move.  Tom asked her if she
knew the three sisters.  She said she most certainly did as she had brought
the younger two into the world and Wayne as well.  Tom said the three girls
were known as the Vampires by the lads around because if they got their
teeth in you they wouldn't let go.  Tracey, Marcie and Sherrilee were the
three and I had noticed them prowling in concert at the Ceilidh and had had
a brief encounter in a couple of the reels as they flung themselves around
giving one the glad eye all the time.

     Stuart came back and still looked rather sombre.  He said Archie was
much better now and he was very glad we were taking him to Edinburgh on
Monday and would we go and see his parents in the morning.

     Things did liven up a bit as the wine flowed and Aunt Margaret told us
about some of her more spectacular patients.  We all went to bed early and
I wanted to talk to Tom about the meeting tomorrow with his parents at
lunch-time when we were going to tell them officially of our resolve to
make a commitment to each other.  However, Stuart was still a bit down and
as he came along the corridor as we went into our room Tom asked him if he
would like to come in with us for the night.

     Stuart's face lit up.  "Oh, please, if you and Flip don't mind, I'm
still worried about Archie," he said.

     Our double bed was very full as Stuart spooned himself in between us
and, I think, we all dropped off to sleep very quickly.  I know I did.
There was no sex, just three lads helping to comfort each other with their
company.

     I woke up quite early and felt my brother's erection planted firmly
between the cheeks of my arse.  He was still fast asleep and had his arm
flung over my shoulder to keep himself close to me and, again, it was very
comforting knowing he was as sexy and randy as we were.  I dropped off
again and woke to find him turned away from me and whispering to a still
comatose Tom, "You taste lovely, Tom, salty and nice", and then he crawled
out of bed across me.

     I caught hold of his arm.  "What did you mean by that?" I asked.

     I could see him grinning in the half-light.  "Nothing, Flip, I just
kissed his neck and then licked it," he explained, "But, I've got to go to
the bathroom now, it's rather urgent!"

     I knew why as when he turned his boyish rod was still as erect as it
was when I had awoken first.

     There was quite an interval before he returned, clad only in a pair of
tatty shorts, but bearing a tray with steaming mugs of coffee.

     "This is getting too much of a habit," he said as he set the tray down
on the bedside table.  He sat on the bed beside me.  "Oh, Flip, I do thank
you two for looking after me last night.  Poor Archie, I hope he will be
alright."

     I leaned up in bed and held him round his torso and drew him down to
me.

     "Whenever you need us, we'll be here and you are not to worry about
Archie.  You have probably saved his life."  I put a hand down and felt up
the open leg of his shorts.  No underpants on so I tickled his balls.  "Do
you think we ought to examine yours?"

     He giggled.  "Have done this morning.  No problems."

     The end of his limp prick was still a bit sticky against the back of
my hand.

     "And you took care of another thing as well, eh?"

     "Of course.  I expect I'm just like you were at my age, eh?"  He
leaned down and pecked me on the nose.  "Brother!"

     I turned and poked Tom in the back.  He grunted.

     "Coffee's here, Tom," I said, "Your little brother's a good slave,
isn't he, except he didn't wash his hands before making it."

     Tom grunted, "What d'you mean?", as Stuart poked me hard in the ribs.

     "He's a horny little sod, so he made our coffee with his sticky
wank-stained paws."

     "Leave him alone," said Tom, "I wouldn't mind him as a real brother,
even if he's like you and sex-crazed!"

     Stuart scuttled round the bed.  "I'm your real brother, now, Aunt
Margaret said so and so did Flip before he turned nasty."

     "Punishment, eh?" said the devious Tom, now wide awake, sitting up and
scratching his incipient hairy chest..

     The pair grabbed me and subjected me to a most intense tickling with
me shouting and hollering until Aunt Margaret banged on the door.  This
only set the bastards off on a renewed onslaught with Tom very effectively
shutting my mouth with one of his large hands.

     "Go on, Stuart, tickle the old fella's balls," mouthed Tom, who was
going to get a damn good going over when I got him alone!

     Stuart was giggling as I was squirming and, as Tom tickled my very
sensitive chest, so Stuart ran his fingers lightly round and round my ball
sac and up and down my rigid shaft.  Stuart giggled even more as my cock
started to drool.  This was something I'd noticed in the past year or so.
When I got really sexually aroused I produced quite a few drops of
colourless liquid which I'd found out, from Ghazi's and my perusals of some
of the more forthright Internet sites, was what the Americans called
pre-cum.  Well, be it on their head, or more likely their hands, if they
continued with their ministrations much more.  It didn't take long.  Stuart
was giving my tool a fingering as if he was playing the flute and I just
let fly.  My cum flew out in gobbets all over Tom's arm and hand and landed
in great drops all over my stomach and chest.  Stuart giggled even louder
and Tom shook his head in his usual mode of disbelief over the amount I
habitually came.  He flicked the trusty towel over to me after wiping my
spunk off his arm.

      "Look at that Stuart, he just can't control himself.  I don't know
what we can do with him.  Get up and clean yourself up you randy bugger."

     They let me up and I wiped up the evidence of my randiness.  I was
very much aware of the readiness of Stuart at any little signal to help Tom
to the same type of climax.  The signal never came although Tom was
sporting seven inches of hardness.  I wondered why?  I wouldn't have
minded.  Tom was my property but I thought it was something which would
have made the bonding between the two new brothers even firmer.  It was
something I would have to discuss with Tom when we had a quiet moment
together.

     Anyway, Stuart and I had released our tensions this morning and I was
glad that Stuart felt he wasn't letting Archie down by indulging in
something that perhaps poor Archie would not be doing for some time, if at
all.  Again, I would take the opportunity at some point to find out more.

     We were up and about so we shooed Stuart off to his room as soon as we
finished the coffee.  He insisted he had already washed before he made our
coffee so the bathroom was free for us.  I went in first and had a shower
making sure I rid my chest and abdomen of any lingering traces of spunk.
As lunch was going to be rather formal I decided I'd better have a shave
and really look tidy.  I then relinquished the bathroom to Tom who went
through the same procedure, except for any spunk removal!

     I dressed carefully and as I got out my father's kilt and buckled it
on I wondered what he would have said to my announcement I was making
today.  I hoped he would have approved.  I still didn't know if my mother
had any inkling, either.  Tom came back in as I was tying my tie.

     "I love you, you know that, Flip," he said, coming up beside me as I
stood admiring myself in the long mirror.  "You're a vain bugger, but I
still love you."  He put his arms round me and we kissed deeply.  As he
only had a towel round his waist I was very aware he was still erect.

     "Let me, Tom," I said, untied the towel and flung it on the floor in
front of me.  I stepped behind him and we watched in the mirror as I ringed
his lovely thick shaft and pulled back and forth slowly until, with a great
contented sigh, he shot the load which had been welling up in his balls
waiting for my loving hand.

     He turned to me.  "I won't hold you, Flip, I'm still leaking a bit and
I don't want to get anything on your kilt.  Wait until night and we'll love
each other properly.
  Today we are going to make a move towards our vows so it will be a
red-letter day for both of us."

     He picked up my right hand, the hand that had brought him to that
stunning climax, and kissed my fingers.

     Tom was dressing when Stuart knocked on the door.  He came in and said
he'd finished his breakfast and was going along to see Archie.  We said we
would be there about ten o'clock to make arrangements for the journey.  As
Tom and I were having our breakfast Aunt Margaret came into the kitchen
with a map and said that Edinburgh was about a hundred and fifty miles and
we should do the journey in four hours at the most, if we took the A84 and
A85 route.

     I knew that Simon and Big Dick were staying in their flat.  They had
moved out of student residence and were living in a house which belonged to
some Trust that Dick's father had set up as he was a property developer in
a big way.  I phoned Simon who said we were to stay in their spare room and
not come back until at least Wednesday.  This suited us down to the ground
because it would give us a chance to explore where we would be studying and
where the residence was.  In fact, Simon had managed to get us a two
bedroom flat in the particular block and said it was the same one he and
Dick had had during Simon's first year.

     We called at Archie's house just on ten o'clock.  His parents looked
very worried but were very relieved we would be in Edinburgh while he was
being examined.  They made it quite clear they would pay all our expenses
and I said that would probably not be much more than the cost of petrol.
Aunt Margaret had already explained that Archie would most likely be in
until the weekend and we said we would find out all the details.  Poor
Archie sat beside Stuart and looked most woebegone but he said he was
thankful he would have us there at least until Wednesday.

                    S8: Announcing our intentions

     The next ordeal was lunch and our announcement.  The four of us made
our way over to the Police House just before one o'clock.  Mrs McLaren
opened the door and enveloped me in a big hug then did the same to Tom.  I
couldn't have been more welcomed.  Tom's father came up and shook my hand
and said he hoped we would support each other in whatever we decided.
Well, I felt so relieved and Tom's face was a picture as Stuart very calmly
said he was glad he'd inherited another brother.

     We'd rehearsed a bit what we would say and I'd volunteered to say the
little speech.  It was very simple.  I just said we realised soon after we
met four years ago that we wanted to be together and that desire had never
wavered.  We showed Aunt Margaret and Tom's parents the rings and told them
the story.  As Mr and Mrs McLaren had met Ghazi when he had stayed with me
they knew what a good friend he was.  I said we had decided that we would
make a commitment to each other at Christmas but we would have to plan how,
where and exactly when.  Mrs McLaren gave us each a box and inside were
identical silver kilt pins.  She said she hoped they would help to pin us
together as well.  She was so proud of her son and wanted him to have the
best and she knew I was the best for him.

     It was all rather emotional and poor Stuart burst into tears.  He said
he was so happy for us but he was so worried about his friend Archie.  So
what with all of us feeling happy in one way and sad in another it was
quite a heart-rending occasion.  Luckily Mr McLaren came to the rescue with
a bottle of champagne and we were toasted and wished all the well for the
future.  Aunt Margaret then proposed a toast to Inspector McLaren and great
things for him in the future as well.  What was also great was that Tom's
father said quietly to both Stuart and myself that if we wanted to call him
Dad he would be pleased and Stuart was welcomed into his family as Tom's
young brother as well.

     Sunday lunch was a stupendous affair.  I'd had venison at the
Campbells but I don't think it was so succulent and tender as the huge
piece Tom's mother had cooked.  What was also most intriguing was that it
was a present from the terrible twins' father because Tom's father had
somehow got them out of some scrape.  That was a story to find out about
sometime!

     My worries about how our announcement would be taken were quite
unfounded.  Tom and I were seen as part of his family and certainly Aunt
Margaret and Stuart had no problems either.  My mother was still an unknown
quantity.

     That night in bed I asked Tom why he hadn't signalled to Stuart that
he might toss Tom off.

     Tom was quiet for a moment.  "Flip, I'm afraid that if I get nearer to
Stuart I shall fall for him as well as you.  He is so like you when you
were his age it's almost like you having a twin.  I love you too much and I
love him too.  Sometime, perhaps, we will be intimate but for him I think
it would be a passing experiment. It wouldn't be for me and I think it
would be too much for me at the moment.  I want you and I need you all the
time.  I don't want to become confused."

     I knew what he meant.  I also loved my brother dearly and I could see
he was very, very fond of Tom but his love for Tom was not the same as
mine.  He wanted to experience the power and force of that seven inch tool.
I knew he wanted to compare it with his brother's and to find what it would
be like when he was also so fearsomely equipped.  But, I wanted and needed
Tom in quite a different way just as he wanted and needed me although we
were both boys.  Stuart would find someone to love and have children with
at some time, a different sort of love which I knew I could never
experience.

     We lay in silence for a minute or so then began that slow prelude of
loving each other's bodies, minds and spirits which reached the ultimate
with the release and enjoyment of each other's gifts of love.  There was no
loudness about our love that night.  Gently and slowly we laved and sucked
on each other until we released our separate tokens which we then shared as
our lips met and our tongues softly stroked and so fused our love.

               To be continued...............