Date: Sun, 21 Mar 2004 17:51:21 -0000
From: Storm <storm@talesfromastorm.co.uk>
Subject: Swings & Roundabouts

Swings and Roundabouts
By Stormwriter
www.talesfromastorm.co.uk

The summer holidays were always a curious time for Karl. Six weeks with no
school always started off as fun but the novelty soon wore off.
     Karl had one friend he would always hang around with, go to the park,
loiter round street corners or cause havoc in the local shopping centre.
But for the next two weeks, his friend, Jamie, was on holiday in Greece
with his parents.
     His parents moving round the house woke Karl from his sleep. It was
seven o'clock in the morning.  It was the usual routine, his Mum would pack
his Dad off to work then she would get ready for her little part time job.
They would leave Karl in bed and let him know when they left. Today was the
first day he would not have his friend to pass the time with. A fortnight
without Jamie, a fortnight alone was something he was not going to enjoy.
He supposed he would try and spend as much of the time in bed, asleep.
     He heard the front door slam. His Dad had left for work. He brought
his quilt closer and tucked it beneath his chin, determined not to get up
only his head showed above the yellow quilt cover. He heard his Mum moving
downstairs. It was her usual routine to clear up after breakfast and then
get ready for work. She would be disturbing his rest for another hour he
guessed before she would leave him alone in the house.
     At fifteen neither of his parents had any problems leaving Karl alone
in the house. He seemed to them a sensible boy, and besides, it was only
over the school holidays that they had to do this, and then it was only for
the few hours that his Mum spent at work, bookkeeping for a small local
firm. Most of the time his Mum was around. They also relied on Jamie's Mum
to keep an eye on him. She did not go out to work and, as they invariably
spent every last minute of the school holidays together, would more often
than not be around his house playing computer games or football in his back
garden.
     No matter how hard he tried Karl just could not drift back to sleep.
He just lay snuggled tight in his warm quilt with his eyes closed.
     His bedroom door opened and in walked his Mother, dressed in a smart
skirt and blouse, ready for work. She looked at Karl, who did not open his
eyes.
     "I'm off to work now, Karl."
     Karl's eyes flickered and he groaned.
     "You've got a key if you go out, haven't you?" She asked.
     "Yes." Karl elongated the word to emphasise his sleepiness and
annoyance at this daily ritual.
     "Ok. I'll see you around four. You'll be alright on your own today?"
     "Oh, Mum. I'll be fine." He opened his eyes to look at her.
     "Bye, then."
     "Bye, Mum."
     His mother turned and left his room, leaving the door half-open. She
always did this when she was leaving him in the house alone, that way he
could hear anyone who came to the door, the telephone or the post
clattering through the letterbox.
     Karl heard the front door close, more quietly than when his father
left, and breathed a heavy sigh.  He was alone.
     Lying on his side, he was happy to stay in bed a little longer. His
curtains blocked a lot of the daylight out but he was not really tired so
he could not drift back off to sleep. For the next few minutes he was
content to lie with his eyes closed and his mind empty.
     A loud crash broke the silence. It was the sound of glass smashing.
Karl jumped out of bed and ran to his window; sure the noise came from the
back. He opened his curtains and looked out.
     Karl occupied a back room in the house that overlooked their garden.
At the back of the garden was a tall wooden fence. Over the fence was a
back garden to another house on another street on the estate.  He scanned
the garden and saw nothing; then he looked at the house opposite. He could
see movement.  Looking more closely he noticed that someone was moving
in. The glass smashing he had heard had come from a large ornate gold
mirror that the removal men were carrying round the side of the house.  He
saw two men crouched on the ground clearing up the mess but were quickly
joined by a woman. He could not hear what she was saying, but she did not
look happy.
     Karl smiled to himself.
     The change from his warm quilt to cooler air suddenly made Karl
shiver. Standing in front of his open window in only his boxer shorts, Karl
could feel the slight draught. He always kept his window open slightly
during the summer months as the air would become still and stale during the
night.
     After going to the bathroom and washing his face, Karl went downstairs
to get some breakfast.
     He poured himself a glass of orange juice and a bowl of cereal and
went into the sitting room. He placed his bowl and glass on a side table
and turned on the television. Retrieving the remote control he sat down in
an armchair and picked up his cereal. Between each spoonful he would flick
between channels, deciding what to watch. In the end he settled for some
cartoons, as there was nothing really on he wanted to watch.
     As he slowly ate he would occasionally chuckle at the television.

After finishing his breakfast, Karl sat curled up in the armchair staring
at the television. He let out a sigh. If his friend, Jamie, was not on
holiday, he would have come round by now and they would be planning what
they were going to get up to. But not today, he had to decide what to he
wanted to do by himself. It was pointless playing football as there was no
one to play with.
     In the end he got bored just sitting round the house and thought he
would just go out and see if he came across anybody he knew.
     Karl went back to his bedroom, put on a clean pair of boxer shorts,
stepped into his track pants and threw on a t-shirt. Downstairs, he slipped
his feet into his well-worn trainers, picked up his keys and left the
house.
     For the next half-hour, Karl wandered around the estate but saw no one
he recognised. He was feeling a little tired and stopped off at the local
park. He settled himself on a swing and gently rocked back and forth.
     In the distance, Karl spotted a figure walking along the pavement. He
thought nothing of it and let his head drop so that he stared at the moving
ground as the swing kept swaying. The next time Karl raised his head he
noticed the figure looking around, up and down the driveways and through
the front room windows of each house he passed. Karl got suspicious and
watched. It appeared to be a youth dressed in denim jeans and a t-shirt,
his hands in his pockets shuffling his feet as he walked.
     As the youth got closer, Karl thought he did not look much older than
he did. He had straight, short mousy hair, the fringe forward but not
covering his eyes. Karl was sure he had not seen this boy before and
wondered what he was doing around his estate.
     The boy glanced over at the park and noticed Karl through the tired
iron railing. Karl instinctively dropped his head and looked at the ground
again, not wanting to be caught watching, not knowing what the boy was up
to or how he would react. Without raising his head he strained his eyes
upward to see what he was doing. His heart pounded for a moment as he saw
the boy cross the road and head toward the park. He was coming over.
     Trying to look nonchalant, Karl kicked his feet on the ground and set
the swing in motion.
     As the boy walked through the gate, Karl looked up again and met the
boy's gaze. In response the boy smiled, dimpling his cheeks. Karl half
smiled back, he looked quite friendly.
     "Hi, what you up to?" The boy asked Karl, detecting a slight southern
accent.
     "Not much." The boy sat down on the swing next to Karl. "I ain't seen
you round here before."
     "No, we just moved up from Kent."
     "Oh, right. So I s'pose you'll go going to the local comp."
     The boy paused, considering his response. "Not exactly. My parents are
sending me to the High School." This could be social suicide, he thought.
There was always a them-and-us divide between the kids who went to the
local schools and the privileged few that went to the High School. It was a
private school that offered a few scholarships to admit the brightest kids
in the area, very prestigious and very highly thought of.
     Karl stared at him. "Oh."
     "Hey, it's my parents choice. They made me sit the entrance exam when
they found out my Dad's job would coming up here."
     "So, who's paying?"
     He detected a tone in his voice. "I'm not some spoilt rich kid, I got
in with this." He tapped his forehead with his hand. "They gave me a
scholarship." He paused. "And it wasn't my choice. I went to a normal
common-or-garden comp back home. They arranged the exam first and then told
me."
     "Sorry," Karl became friendlier. "I really shouldn't jump to
conclusions. I'm Karl."
     "Scott."
     "You haven't just moved into a house on Barton Avenue, have you?"
     "Yeah, why?"
     "Hey, I live at the back of you. Your back garden backs onto mine.
Besides the removal men got me out of bed earlier dropping that mirror."
     "Don't remind me, my Mum went ballistic and has been in a mood ever
since, that's why I got out.  Just couldn't stand it, so I though I would
get out of her way."
     Scott and Karl chatted on the swings for a while, telling each other
about themselves. Scott noticed Karl would occasionally slow his movements
down, he would blink slowly and his breath would become shallow. It always
happened when he smiled, showing his dimpled cheeks.
     Scott looked around the playground and got up off his swing. "Come
over here." He said to Karl and began walking towards the slide. He waited
by the metal ladder and waited for Karl. When he arrived Scott placed his
hands on Karl's shoulders and moved him so that he was leaning against the
vertical ladder. He raised his right hand and ran it through Karl's black
hair.
     "How about a welcome gift." He leant in close and whispered into
Karl's ear before placing a gently kiss on his lips.
     Not responding, Karl stood motionless.
     Scott lowered himself to his knees and placed his hands and the smooth
nylon of Karl's track pants.  He gripped the waistband and pulled them down
just enough to reveal the gift he wanted. Scott stared at Karl's smooth
dick that hung limp. He ran his right hand through the thick bush of pubic
hair enjoying the touch of his wiry black hair through his fingers. He
opened his mouth and slipped the silky five-inch dick into his mouth, his
tongue playing with foreskin. With all five inches inside his mouth, Scott
inhaled deeply and began to feel the organ engorge. He pulled away and
licked the head.  With the dick now half hard he went down again and felt
the tip tickle the back of his throat. He glanced up at Karl, who stood
stock still with his eyes closed. He backed off again and heard a low moan
come from Karl, whose dick was now hard.
     With his hands on each of Karl's exposed buttocks, Scott began to
rhythmically blow Karl. He kneaded his buttocks and pulled them apart. His
fingers crept closer and closer to Karl's tight hole to gently massage
it. Karl sighed at the first touch and Scott felt his dick-head throb. He
pulled away and sucked on the angry red knob.
     Karl began to breathe heavier.
     Scott placed his index finger over Karl's tight hole and plunged it in
as he plunged Karl's dick deep into his throat. Karl opened his mouth and
gasped.
     With his chin resting on Karl's low balls, he detected them retract
slightly. He pulled back before relentlessly sucking on Karl's dick, his
finger fucking him from behind and teasing his prostate.
     "Argh" Karl breathed heavy and laboured. He was about to cum, but
Scott kept sucking his dick and ramming his finger up his tight hole.
     Scott's lips felt the shaft begin to throb and then the taste of salty
cum his the back of his throat. He pulled back to leave just the head in
his mouth and let each squirt hit the roof of his mouth and pool on his
tongue. As Karl, relaxed and released his last few drops of cum, Scott
swallowed. He released Karl's spent dick and gave it one last lick on the
tip. He pulled his finger out of his arse and then pulled up Karl's track
pants to cover him up, tucking his half-hard dick into his boxers.
     He raised himself up from his knees and looked into Karl's
eyes. "Thanks for the house warming."  He said and placed another gentle
kiss on Karl's lips.
     Scott then lowered his eyes and placed his hands on Karl's crotch. He
gave it a squeeze. "Hope to see you around."
     Scott then walked out of the park, going back home.
     For a moment Karl stood, staring into space. As if he had forgot to
breathe, he suddenly took in a deep breath and licked his lips.
     They tasted saltier than usual. He presumed it was the taste of his
cum. He had never tasted it before when he wanked alone in his room, he
just cleaned himself up on his underwear before discarding it to the dirty
linen hamper.
     After a while he began to walk home. His head reeling from his first
blow job.

When Karl got home, he headed straight up to his bedroom and lay on his
bed, staring at the ceiling. He tried to make sense of what had
happened. There was no doubt in his mind that he had enjoyed it but he felt
guilty. He had not asked for this and had not even actively
participated. He felt a twinge of shame that he let Scott leave without
saying a word to him. He was not angry with him; he was just shocked.  Now
it had happened he was glad and imagined Scott's encouraging smile. But
what scared him the most was the dawning realisation that he enjoyed the
sensations only another boy could give him.  These thoughts were not new to
Karl. He had spent many days thinking long and hard about boys and
girls. But it was only boys that gave him the warm feeling that came from
deep within him.
     He never heard the front door open and his mother shout up the
stairs. His thoughts had overwhelmed him and he drifted off to sleep. He
woke when his mother burst through his door.
     "Karl!" She saw him on his bed and did not look too happy.
     "Sorry, Mum. I must have fallen asleep."
     "It's ok, I just got a fright with the door unlocked and you not
answering."
     She left his room; glad he was fine but slightly annoyed.
     Karl sat up on his bed. He felt ravenous, having been so distracted by
Scott, he forgot all about lunch. He looked at the clock. How could it be
four o'clock already, he thought?
     Karl spent the rest of the evening with his head in a fog. He drifted
from room to room, doing whatever his mother asked. Tidy up the front
room. Wash the pots before I make dinner. It was out of character for him
to do anything with doing it begrudgingly but today his mind was on other
things. His mother never noticed, she just thought he was being helpful,
not realising that Karl was not his usual teenage self - just grateful.
     The family ate dinner together when his father came home and then
retired to the front room to relax. Karl sat in his usual seat and just
stared blankly at the television, not caring what was on and not
complaining when his mother turned over to watch a soap opera.
     As the closing credits rolled up the screen Karl said he was tired and
was going to bed early. He got up and climbed the stairs. On the way out of
the room he faintly heard his father ask his mother if he was alright. Not
that he was interested in the reply, he just climbed the stairs, slow and
heavy footed.
     Karl shut the bedroom door behind him and went over to his window. The
evening was finally beginning to draw in and darkness was dampening the
light of the day. Karl pulled himself up and sat at the corner of the wide
windowsill. He looked over the back fence at the house opposite.
      The removal men had long left. Karl could see stacks of boxes through
the dining window. He supposed this was where they put most of the stuff
while they got themselves straight. Through the kitchen window he saw a
woman standing at the sink washing pots. On the first floor he noticed a
light shone through the frosted window of the bathroom, he could
occasionally make out a dark shadow moving. The light went out and the
window went black. A few moments later a light went on in a bedroom next to
the bathroom. He looked in and saw a bed in the far corner and many boxes
littering the floor. The light was stark, no lampshade had been put up yet
and no curtains hung to filter out the harsh naked bulb, making the walls
shine brighter than usual. He watched as he saw Scott, with only a damp
white towel wrapped around his waist, move over to his bed.
     Karl felt an ache in his groin as he saw Scott's smooth skin glimmer
as the small water droplets that covered him reflected the light. He
watched as Scott removed the towel, instinctively holding it front of him
before raising one end and rubbing it through his hair. Karl watched
engrossed as he rubbed the towel through his hair, then down to his arms
and chest. His eyes catching the fleeting glimpses of Scott's groin and
small dick that grew from the light brown pubic hair. Scott hung the towel
in from of his groin and began rubbing. He spread his legs slightly and
clutched his balls though the towel to dry them before pushing the towel
passed to thoroughly dry himself. Not even getting a twinge of guilt, Karl
carried on watching as he turned and showed him the smooth globes of his
backside.
     Now dry, Scott threw the towel to the side of the room and lay down on
his bed. Karl watched as he saw Scott move his hand down to his limp dick
and begin to pull the foreskin over the head. He saw Scott's dick slowly
grow and point to the ceiling. Scott moved his hand slowly up and down the
shaft, grinding his hips into the mattress and his other hands on his chest
playing with his right nipple.
     Karl now felt his own dick, straining against his clothes, wanting
release and the same treatment Scott was giving his own dick. But Karl just
placed his hand over the bulge and squeezed, his eyes not moving from
Scott, writhing on his bed and pumping his dick.
     He saw Scott pump harder and faster and then suddenly stop. He had
come. Karl did not see anything squirt from the tip, he was too far away,
but he knew and orgasm when he saw one. Scott relaxed his muscles and
released his grip, his hand falling to his hip. His dick slowly deflated to
flop on his stomach, his chest rising and falling.
     He watched the satiated Scott naked on his bed, his eyes closed and
his breathing reverting back to its normal shallow state. For ten minutes
we watched, stared, at the naked body. He blinked when Scott finally
moved. He twisted his body on to its side, facing the wall. He slowly
brought his knees up. Scott was asleep.
     Half an hour later, Karl still had his eyes glued on the boy
opposite. Neither boy had moved. Karl watched as a shadow moved and Scott's
mother came into view. She saw her son lying asleep, naked on his bed. She
looked round the room, retrieved a thin bed-sheet and draped it over
Scott's naked body. The heat of the night would keep him warm but she
covered him up to keep him secure. Flicking off the light, she left the
room and Karl was left staring into a dark room of shadows.

Karl could not remember taking himself to bed, but he woke tucked tightly
beneath his quilt wearing only his boxer shorts. He listened to see if
anyone was awake yet but heard nothing. Glancing over at his clock he knew
why, it was only five o'clock in the morning. Feeling urge to pee, he got
up and went to the bathroom.
     Coming back into his room, Karl went over to his window. He peaked
through the curtains into Scott's bedroom, opposite. The day had already
begun and the birdsong sounded deafening in the absence of traffic or the
daily grind of the people. The early morning light shone into Scott's room,
Karl saw him still lying on his bed. He still lay on his side but had moved
to face into the room. The thin sheet his mother had used to cover him had
dropped slightly to reveal his shoulders and chest.
     Feeling a slight chill, Karl went back to his bed and drifted into a
light sleep waiting for the day to start properly.
     Still uncertain of what had happened and how he felt, Karl stayed in
the house all day. He did not want to bump into Scott again, just yet, not
until he was sure about how to deal with it.

The following morning Karl went downstairs as usual after his mother had
left for work. He was fed up with staying in the house and thought it time
he got out. If he bumped into Scott, all well and good, he wanted to speak
to him. He was not sure what he wanted to say, but he wanted to speak to
him.
     After eating breakfast, Karl dressed in the same clothes he had been
wearing all week. He left the house and dawdled around the estate.
     As usual he found his way to the park. Today there were a couple of
young boys hanging round.  They only looked about seven or eight and were
messing on the swings, their bikes lying on the ground. Karl made his way
over to an old wooden roundabout and sat down, his legs dangling to the
floor slowly pushing him round.
     The two young boys kept watching Karl, just sitting on the roundabout
not apparently doing anything. They could not know he was waiting around,
just in case Scott turned up. Karl kept noticing the looks he was getting
and fixed the boys with a stare. They soon turned away but it had the
desired effect as they picked their bikes up shortly afterwards and rode
out of the park.
     Watching the two boys ride through the gates he saw Scott coming round
the corner. Karl felt an empty pit grow in his stomach and his heart race.
     "Hi, there." Scott smiled as he came over.
     Karl nervously responded. "Er, Hi."
     Scott sat down next to Karl and let the silence continue between them,
hoping Karl would speak to him.
     He waited, but Karl just shifted nervously. "You alright, Karl?" He
paused but did not wait for a response. "I hope you're not mad with me." He
placed his hand on Karl's leg but sensed him flinch at the contact.
     "Look," Scott said determinedly, "if you're not ok with what happened,
then say so and I'll never bother you again. I think you know how I feel."
     "It was a shock, no-one has ever." Karl stuttered the words out.
     "I am sorry, Karl. I should not have come on so strong. But when I saw
you I just felt so much. I wanted you then and there. I've been on my own
so long; I couldn't hold myself back. The way you looked at me, I thought
you were attracted to me, if only a little."
     "I'm not sure, Scott." Karl looked at Scott for the first time.
     Scott looked back at him and smiled. "We can just take it slow, if you
like, start out as friends."
     "I don't think we can. Every time I see you I think about what
happened and how it felt."
     "So how did it feel?"
     Karl paused, thinking. "It felt good. No, better than good. I have
never felt anything like it, not even when I touch myself."
     "Do you want to feel like that again?" Scott teased.
     "It made me feel guilty. It shouldn't have happened. We're too young,
and you're a boy. It's not normal."
     Scott was not understanding. "Why don't you just throw off the
conventions you have been brought up with. You said it felt good and there
is nothing wrong in feeling good. You have obviously been thinking this way
for some time or else why are you still talking to me or why didn't you
push me away when I first kissed you."
     Karl hung his head.
     "You are not alone with these feelings you know, surely the other day
proved it to you. I'm new to this too, why don't we just help each other?
You don't know how long I spent thinking I'm the only one. But I learnt to
see the clues. I saw those in you."
     "It's not obvious is it?"
     "Only if you know what to look for, but it's not obvious."
     They sat in silence for several minutes.
     Scott carefully placed his hand on Karl's leg again. This time he did
not flinch but slowly placed his own hand over Scott's. He turned to Scott
and smiled. Scott moved closer and placed a tender kiss on his lips. This
time Karl responded and kissed him back.

Thank you for reading. Comments are welcomed and gratefully received.
Please email me at storm@talesfromastorm.co.uk or visit my website
www.talesfromastorm.co.uk 
The author retains copyright.