Date: Mon, 13 Apr 2020 15:54:57 +0000 From: Al Peres Subject: Jim and Francis Part 2 JIM AND FRANCIS ================ By Al Peres PART 2 ------------- Chapter 8 ------------- Saturday was the sports day, so they joined Noel and Raphael. The four boys, after many jokes, wore the Speedos and went to the swimming pool where Jean Claude was waiting for them to continue their training, looking forward to the mid-December races. As soon as they entered, Jim spotted the two eleven-year-old boys swimming on the left side. They were diving; Jim jumped into the water and felt as he was in his element, he could not explain himself why he felt so good there. He dove and swam as easy as he was a fish. In one of his dives, he could see how the little boys were touching each other crotches, even they lightly kissed under the water; they saw him and immediately stopped, emerging to the surface. The boys were not shy, however, they knew he had seen them; on the other hand, they wanted badly to befriend that big boy. One of them approached Jim. "James, how can you swim like that? You look more like an otter than a man." Jim was surprised even that they knew his name. "Please call me Jim; I'm only a couple of years older than you are." The boys blushed and grinned at him. "I don't know boys; some persons are born with determined abilities, some run, some jump and some swim." "Yes, but you do it very well. Can you teach Mike and me? Well... my name's Paul." "Ok Paul, when we end our training we'll do some things. Now return to your exercises, otherwise, the coach may get upset. As soon as they finished Jim launched himself at the far corner, the boys immediately joined him with a lovely smile on their little rounded faces. He looked into those brown eyes and softly said: "Will you still be my friends if I said you something?" The boys got serious. "Of course, and thanks for considering us your friends." Then Jim bluntly said to them. "You love each other, don't you? The boys blushed and did not know what to say but they thought that if Jim was their friend they did not need to be scared. "Yes, we, we, we love each other, but we do nothing wrong." "Mike, Paul, I'm not arguing against it but it is too obvious that you love one another, my friends and I have noticed it. If we could detect it, some others could, too; let's say a teacher or a counsellor. I would suggest you take extreme care when you fondle or pet each other, you must do it when you are sure, and I mean, sure that no one can see you. You are too smart and I don't want they separate you." The boys were astonished but they were clever enough to understand Jim was giving them good advice. "Thanks, Jim, we'll take care." Mike then added: "Now I know why a boy of my class is always sobbing, to such a point that I have heard he may leave the school." "Why?" Jim inquired. "Because he was in love with another boy, they were like twins. With different arguments, they changed him to another room, then to a new classroom and finally in the sports team." Jim tousled their wet hair and said: "So, I'm not wrong, am I?" "Of course you aren't. Thanks again Jim, they won't catch us. On the other hand, we are not doing anything..." Jim stopped him because he knew he was going to lie. "Whatever you do is of your business and no one has the right to interfere in it, however, rules are rules and we cannot break them if we want to stay in this school." "You are right Jim, thanks again." "Ah! I forgot. Are you catholic?" "Yes, we are. Why?" "Then, if you go to confess, you must lie, especially about your relationship. Never admit you touch each other or kiss. You can say that you jerk off your wienie or similar but, I repeat, never admit that you do with another person." "But that would be a sin," Paul innocently argued. "It is a bigger sin to release what you have confessed." The boys opened their mouths in disbelief. "But it is supposed that a priest cannot release a single word about what you confess!" Mike argued. Jim again ruffled the boy's hair. "Mike, you can do whatever you like or want, but I'm seriously warning you. You will learn more when you grow up and are older; however, then it could be too late. Ah! Never try to do anything in the toilettes." Then Jim added: "How do you think they found out about your friends?" Saying that Jim jumped again into the water, leaving the two boys thinking about what he had explained to them. They ended their day training, as the little boys gazed at Jim and grinned. Paul said. "Thanks, Jim for your training." Jim laughed. They returned to their dorm and later to the dining room for lunch. They met Noel and Raphael, joked and laughed as any boy of their age, taking care not to show any signals of their mutual affection, which was his best tool to fight against that taboo. When they finished and were near the dorm building, Noel said: "Jim, here you are the dates and time the counsellor checked on our room. Sorry, we cannot give you better information; we can do from now on, if necessary." Jim looked at the paper. "I think it is enough. What are you going to do now?" "Well, we have some work to do for a couple of hours." "Ok, we'll wait for you in our room in two hours." The boys agreed to the displeasure of Francis that wanted to be free and alone with Jim in their room." "Jim, why did you invite them to our room? We also have things to do but most importantly, I like to be with you alone." He grinned to Jim and continued slowly. "I cannot feel your lovely eyes with witnesses." Jim pressed his lover's hand. "I know that, but I have something important to say. They are our best friends and I want to share with them my discovery." That even puzzled Francis more. They entered their room and before Francis could give a further step, he caught him from behind his neck and nibbled him passionately. "I'll explain to you right now, so please, lock that door." Francis grinned as he was returning Jim's caresses, grabbed his tracksuit trousers and yanked them down, Francis stepped out and he took himself his upper clothes off. Jim kissed him passionately with his right hand caressing his friend ball sack and cock. Francis' dick immediately got very hard. "Please Jim, let's go to the bed. I need you." Before they reached Jim's bed, he got stark naked, his cock jerking in needs. Soon their tongues swirled inside their mouths and their dicks started spurting precum. Francis then turned and adopted a 69 position, they impatiently took their dicks into their mouths, sucking eagerly them; they were moaning lost in their lust. A few minutes later Jim arched his hips and Francis pushed down his, as they reached their climaxes starting to spurt their little load of clear white cream. They sucked and swallowed their lover's nectar until felt their respective dicks were getting soft after another beautiful orgasm. Francis returned to his original position in front of his lover, but now completely relaxed and happy. "We needed this," Jim said. "I was missing it since this morning." Francis was hypnotized by those large black eyes of his lover. "I need you. I would like to be here only staring at you until I'm fed up of you but am sure it would take ages." Jim looked at his blond boy tenderly, put apart the locks on his forehead and kissed him softly on the lips. "You better get your haircut shorter, I like as it is now but isn't good for swimming." He paused as he cared the silky blond hair. "I don't know how, but we must do something to be together without being scared of someone all the time. "The same happens to me. I would like to keep you leaning on my chest until I am full of your smell, your hair... you are so beautiful." Their young dicks again were getting alive, however, they realized needed to do their homework, therefore, tenderly separated, got dressed and unlocked the door. They took some notebooks and after an hour, their works had finished. Jim then extracted a large paper sheet where he had developed a chart; on top were all weekdays and in the left margin numbers 1 to 50. He then said: "Please, come here, Mon petit Coeur." That made very happy to Francis that immediately surrounded Jim from behind and pressed him against his chest, nibbling his ears and finally kissed him on the cheek; jokingly said: "Do you want me to show this or shall we go to the bed again?" Francis smiled and caressed him again. "I'd do with pleasure, but Raphael and Noel will be here within some minutes. Please, let me know your discovery." "I know the time and the day when the counsellor will come to check in any room." Francis thought his friend was joking. "How's that possible? Are you a wizard? " "Well, there is a margin for error but very little. I have studied his daily checking in our room, so this morning I knew he would come at 7:00 as he did. Look, Francis, you are very good at maths and this is a logical chart. They don't randomly make visits as it seems to be. The director is a bright math professor and I'm sure he has developed a chart like this and maintains it secret. These people are obsessed with security, of course, they have reasons for that. This school has high prestige in France since the Middle Age. There are princes, sons of ministers and most of the boys come from wealthy and aristocratic families. They don't admit any private safeguarding in the school, the freedom inside is essential for a good education equal to all students. Furthermore, did you observe the high iron fence around the school and the night patrols with dogs? What's about the control at the main gate?" Francis was astounded with his lover's explanations, he never thought about this. "Yes, I did. But it is normal. They are responsible for all of us while we are in school." "Exactly!" Jim said. "That's the key question. This school produces a lovely dividend to the priests and they must keep their business running sure; therefore, they don't mind to leave a boy going out the school, whenever an adult takes that responsibility, so they always want to be in the safe side. However, still, they are not sure, so they have established a room-checking during the night time, so to be certain that all boys are onboard. Yet, if they did the checking at the same hour, like a bank's security guard, soon boys would have discovered and what is more important, strange people could find out. That was the base of many escapes from Nazis concentration camps; they were stupidly like machines, except in the Navy. A clever admiral did a similar chart to contact their submarine fleet, using a machine based on the high officer instructions. I have seen six of them in the Spanish War Museum; it was a present from Hitler to Franco." He paused. "The principal has developed a chart to visit rooms; apparently, it seems random, but it isn't. They built an electrical panel; only changing one contact it alters the new position of the lights on the panel." Francis kept silence during some seconds as his young brains thought about what his lover was explaining. "You are right, this is a sequential number, and so, knowing two of the digits you can know all the rest." Francis glanced at his friend's eyes and kissed him gently. "As you say, you're fucking clever." Francis blushed since he was not accustomed to using this strong word. Someone knocked on the door, Raphael and Noel entered. "Well, which is the aim of this lovely meeting? Jim stood up and explained all about his findings. They remained in silence for some time, Noel then said: "Does anyone know about this?" "It's only us," Francis answered. "It's fantastic! We can do whatever we like without caring about being caught," Noel said. "Well, we must take into consideration the errors caused by human beings. Though the Frenchs are not as square minded as the Nazis were, you will never be one hundred per cent sure; so I would suggest you lock your door; you may always find an excuse for it," Jim pointed out. "We must leave. Have a good time and goodnights. Ah! I forgot. I think you have a letter in your box, Jim." As soon as Jim heard that, he jumped from the couch and left. A couple of minutes later he entered, his eyes sparkling of happiness. "It is from home," Francis said nothing, he smirked and approaching his friend he kissed him on the neck, then he sat on the sofa waiting for Jim to finish his reading. He carefully observed with delight his loved boy how his face illuminated as sometimes he smiled. He reread the letter again and then kissed it. Francis could see the tenderness in his friend's eyes, as well as a couple of tears on his cheeks; however, he knew they were of happiness. He stood and still with the sheets in hand he said: "They all send a lot of love to you, especially Frankie and John. They have worked hard along with the rest of boys; the house is ready, so at these moments Frankie and John are having their first sleepover in the new home. Little Francis also wanted to be there, however, Joan said he also wanted to be with his granddad; therefore little Francis postponed it because he didn't want to upset his little brother. I can imagine what they are doing and will do tonight." Francis approached his friend, took his hand and tenderly placed it on his chest where the heart is. Jim, can I do anything to compensate you? I can't replace them but you have all my love." He looked at his beautiful blond friend and rubbed his smooth face with the back of his hand. "I know it Francis, but I still miss them a lot, this is the first time I have left them. Please give me as much love as you can. I have given all I have to "Mon petit Coeur." "Please Jim, lock the door." They locked the door and they made passionate love until their young bodies were exhausted, however, always scared thinking that someone could knock on it. They ended their lovemaking, had a quick shower and went under the bed covers. Francis felt fresh and did not want to sleep, he caressed Jim's hair: "Jim, you said that little Francis is blond and your elder brother, too..." "Yes. Joan is blond, too; and has curly hair; now is getting brown." "Sorry, I'm curious. You have said that you discovered had an elder brother when you were ten. How happens..." "Well... now we have time and I can tell you the story as he told me." He paused. "My dad and John's father are best friends since they were children. They grew up and became handsome young men. One day, during a village's ball, they met two girls that did not want to dance with anybody; however, my dad separated them and they started dancing. One was blond. To make it short, the blond girl fell in love with my dad and the other girl and Charles, John's dad, fell in love with each other; sometime later Charles married her. My father visited the blond girl and fucked her until she stopped the relationship, she was pregnant. However, she did not tell anything to my dad because she knew my dad did not love her. She quickly married another boy who always was trying to get her. She was honest and told him she was expecting a baby that would come about eight months later. My brother was born and his official father was glad because the boy was blond, so he could say the child was his. They imposed him the name of Tomas. The man fucked regularly his wife but she did not get pregnant. My brother grew up and when he was four y/o, his father started getting drunk and spanking his mother and some times his son. The man was frustrated because he could not have a son of his own and besides, the little boy features resembled my dad, except the hair and eyes." Jim then jumped from the bed, rummaged in a wardrobe's drawer, and extracted a large notebook. "Francis, please read it; I wrote it down as he dictated me." Francis took it and started reading, while Jim cuddled near his friend: ""The first time I directly contacted dad I was six. My mother took me to school as every child of my age did. I clearly remember him, very strong, tall and not dressed as a formal teacher's normal but as a wonderful and powerful man; covering his strong chest with a short- sleeved shirt, no jacket, moustache and beard; he was a man, not a teacher, I thought. He received us. My mother talked to him with her head down avoiding his sight, and then he said: "Please, Tomas, sit down on the first row, on that desk with Peter." My mother left and I looked at the door and then to the big man. I met his smile and his large black eyes fixed on me, giving me strength in my new situation. Soon I forgot my fears and my mother and started my tasks likewise the other new students. That first day nothing else happened except when I tried to look at him, I always met his eyes and his smile fixed on me. After that day, I noticed he was affectionate with me, always trying to help me with my reading and writing, teaching me. He enjoyed ruffling my blond hair and my back when I left for the following day. I did not say anything to my mother, only that I eagerly wanted the next day to come to go the school; very unusual for a child of six. His caresses increased as he helped me, he sat down near me and I smiled; I felt comfortable and learning very quickly, he seemed very happy and proud of my presence. Our friendship increased and I always delayed my departure, leaving the classroom as the last one. As you know, we had classes even on Saturday morning. One of those days, as he was preparing to close the doors, I said: "Sir, I would like today was Monday and not Saturday." He kneeled in front of me and asked: "Why, Tomas?" I doubted but I dared to say: "Because... I enjoy the school and to be with you." Before he could react, I kissed him on the cheek and left running to the door. I rushed to my house without stopping; it was not far, only a few houses separated from the school. At those times, it was the last street on the road to John's farm, the school had only two classes, one for boys and one for girls. My little heart was beating into my chest, and I flushed thinking about what I had done but I felt happy, very happy. On Monday, I got up early to be in the school the first one to enter, I wanted the other boys did not see me blush when I met him. As soon as the door opened, I went in, he looked at me and again he kneeled, I kissed him and he kissed me saying: "Good morning Tomas." That was right at the beginning. When he needed a boy to order books, to clean a chair or anything, I was a volunteer to do the job. My heart wanted his caresses, to be with him. He always had little attentions with me, a pencil, a notebook, a tales book, little things that conquered my heart needed of a father's affection. After some months, I had learnt to read. I learnt during a few months what normally took almost two years to most of the children. Yet, I read with some difficulty. One spring day, near the summer, I wanted to read a tale; however, there were difficult words that I could not understand. During the break, I remained on my desk. He was sitting reading on a book and watching me. "Tomas, don't you go out for the break?" "No. It is more interesting this tale, but there are some words I cannot understand." "Come here and I'll explain them to you." I stood up and went to his desk; he took me from my armpits and sat on his lap. I felt so happy... When he thought other boys would return, he fondled my hair and said: "now you can continue by yourself." I sat on my desk and I looked at him; he grinned at me and I grinned back to him. At that moment I wanted to run into his strong arms hug and kiss him all around his face...but he was only my teacher. Time passed quickly and summer arrived, with the holidays. It was hot and I could not see him. Where is he? I asked myself. I played sometimes close the school and his house that formed a single building. I thought: "what does he do when there is no school?" I was seven; September came and again the school. I was the first to enter; I wanted to hug him but all new boys and mothers were waiting, so I looked at him and he looked at me smiling, as saying: "be patient, later." The first break came and all boys rushed outside. A door connected his house with the classroom and he disappeared thru it. When nobody was in the classroom I went thru the door, he was waiting for me sat down on the ragged and clean sofa. I launched myself into his arms and I hugged and kissed him as I wanted to do since the school had closed. He did the same; he ruffled my hair, my back and kissed my forehead and cheeks tenderly. "I love you, sir; I have missed you a lot." He tenderly separated me and looked into my eyes. "I love you too, Tomas, I have missed you heaps." "Sure you missed me?" "Yes, I did." He then caressed me again. "But if they see us together may envy you and think that I'm not fair to the other boys because I love all my pupils." He immediately added: "But not as much as I love you." I smiled satisfied and sighed; I did not want to share his love with anyone, he continued: "Since we love each other, you cannot call me "Sir" when we are alone, you can call me Frank; however, this is our secret little Tomas, no one, do you hear me? no one must know that we care each other. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sir." He looked at me grinning. "Yes, Frank", I repeated. We entered the classroom; the boys started to return from the break. Some weeks passed and we established the trick when the last boy had left at the end of the day, or in the break, I would enter his house. We then enjoyed our caressing and talked about many things a boy of seven could do. I was very happy and my mother could not understand why." "I was almost eight when one day I was trying to read a difficult paragraph and found some difficult words, but instead of start asking at that moment I waited until the break came: "Frank I don't understand these words, please can you..." I approached his desk, he lifted me on his lap to read with me, but I moved down again. He was shocked; I noticed the surprise and fears in his eyes, so I extended my arms and kissed his cheek. He then sighed and asked me: "Have you hurt yourself?" I doubted to answer but I said: "No, I haven't; my father spanked me last Saturday evening with his belt because I spilt some milk. I cannot sit down." I noticed how he gritted his teeth and the muscles of his face hardened, the pencil he had in his hands broke into two parts, I heard him saying: "Oh my God! Why? Why?" He wanted to comfort me because he saw my tears almost coming out. He hugged tenderly me; then said: "Take this cushion and put it on your desk, don't explain it to anyone, fortunately, your mate sitting near you is sick, when we finish you remain in your desk until I close the door." When he locked the door, e took me in his arms lifting me to his chest. I started crying as he caressed my back rubbing it repeatedly. "Take it easy, son, please don't cry", but that even made me cry harder. He sat on the large couch with me in his arms; he had already lit a fire on the fireplace that illuminated the room. When I calmed, he stared at me and kissed my cheek. "Please Tomas, turn around." He then took my shirt up, then my short trousers to under my buttocks and touched the large bluish bruises. I squirmed in pain. "Oh my God! How a man can be so...to do this angel? He caressed gently my back several times, replaced my clothes and turned around again; he hugged me very tightly. I could not stop crying; he kept me for several minutes leaning on his chest until he felt I was quiet and calmed. He tenderly separated and kissed me again on the forehead: "I love you, Frank," I said to him still with tears rolling on my face. "My father is always drunk on Saturdays." "I love you too, son." I liked that word that I had never heard from my father; he continued: "Tomas, I want you to hear me carefully. Listen: you should never argue your father, he used to be a good man, I wonder why he has become into an animal. If you think he is going to spank you, you must fly away quickly, your house isn't far from here and both houses have the rear yard facing the forest; so, if you run thru the back no one would see you neither find out where you are." He pointed out to a back door as he continued. "That door connects to the yard and I'll always leave it unlocked. You can easily access to the yard, you must run as much as you can and enter this house. If I'm here you will be safe, but if not, lock all doors, enter my bedroom and hide under the bed covers until I return. Is it clear for you?" "Yes, it is." Then looking at him very careful I took his face between my little hands and I kissed him on the lips. He was surprised and asked: "Why have you kissed me like that, Tomas?" "Because my mom told me once, we do it to a person on the lips when we love that person a lot and I love you that much. I would like that you were my dad..." I could not end the phrase. He hugged me very tight, and after a while, he tenderly separated me and did to me a on the lips. "I worship you, my little angel. I'll tell you what we are going to do: You will consider me as your dad and I will consider you as my son but only when nobody is present; if someone sees us, you will be Tomas and I will be your teacher." I hugged him as tightly as I could. "Oh dad, my dad, I adore you!" "My little son, my angel son!" he answered. I think there was not any part of my face that this memorable evening was not kissed. We remained on the sofa united watching the fire; then he said: "Son, you must go to your other home. Ah! Moreover, you don't need he spanks you to come here, you can come at any time that you want, but you must be very, very careful. Nobody must see you, otherwise, our secret will be known and we might get into trouble." "Don't worry Dad, I'll be invisible, I know how to do it. Then I said: "Dad, you have cured all my bruises, I feel nothing." He grinned; ruffled my blond lank hair and I took the back door to return home. When I arrived, mom asked me where I had been, I said: playing alone, as usual. Chapter 9 ------------- Time elapsed quickly, and I continued visiting him; I would say almost every day, except Saturday evening and Sundays. The procedure was always different, but I enjoyed being on my back on the old couch with my head on his lap; he always had something to read. We spent hours and hours reading; he brought me adventures' books. I eagerly read about Gulliver's journeys, Pirates on the Indian seas, Captain Nemo's submarine and many others. He taught me how to use a dictionary when I did not understand a word. Being nine y/o, I was too young for those sorts of books, but I could read easily anything. My dad was very proud of me showing as an example to the other kids, encouraging them to learn. He used to say: "You all are as intelligent as Tomas is, so if he did it you can also do it. You can be sure of this." He irradiated confidence and self-esteem. Many others followed his instructions and he received congratulations from the academic authorities for this. He never spanked or humiliated a boy; when he was forced to punish a boy, he would take him to stay into the classroom until all boys had gone, then he would tell him what his punishment was, but never in front of his pals and friends." Children sometimes can be very smart. I needed and enjoyed with my dad's caresses and love. I noticed that when my official father spanked me, my dad seemed to love me much more, especially when he saw my bruises he then caressed me more. Of course, I was wrong. One day that he noticed some contusions, he asked: "Tomas, has he spanked you again?" "Yes, dad." "Why didn't you run here? Did he force you?" "No dad, he didn't, I remained quiet as he dropped his belt on me, I could have run but I didn't." "But why, son?" I doubted for a moment. I could not cheat him. "Because I love you heaps, dad." He was taken aback as I continued "You love me more when my father spanks me, so I prefer to suffer his strokes because later I will be compensated with your affections." He hugged me very tightly; when we separated I watched how his eyes were blurred. I also was close to start crying because I noticed he was suffering. He stared into my eyes for a long minute; hugged me again, and said: "Tomas, please, you should never, never do it again. I esteem you the same and I will give you all kisses and hugs that you want. Don't you realise that when you suffer I suffer as well? When I see the bruises on your back I would have liked to receive them myself instead of you. You will fully understand this when you grow up and have your children. Listen, my son, a dad is not only the one who put seeds inside a woman and have a baby, but it is also much more than this; it is to love that baby and when he or she grows up even, if necessary, to give his own life to save his child. I would kill anyone to save your life, I would gladly give my life to save yours, do you understand?" He paused. I could not resist my dad explanations and started to sob inconsolably; he hugged me again and kissed me many times until I stopped sobbing. I did not realise at that moment he was also telling me that he was my true dad and therefore, he immensely loved me." I helped him to clean the house, to wash-up dishes, etc. He taught me how to make an omelette, to prepare toasts, to make coffee, to fry eggs, and many others little things. He was and he is very clean, the house was very tidy, clothes clean; I remember that the bed sheets were as white as snow. He used to say: "Tomas, you must take care of your body, a clean body is a healthy one, now that there are so many sicknesses. To prevent any contamination from lice and similar, clothes must be boiled out, this will kill anything." Those were the happiest days with him. I would have liked to spread the news saying everybody "This is my dad to whom I love and he loves me!!" That was the only dark point in my heart." He enjoyed hiking and mountain climbing, so secretly and when my father was out, he took me to the mountains showing me the trees, naming them, rocks and type of them, these short trips fascinated me. I liked the winter because I stayed longer with him; normally he would close the door and I remained inside with him, when we finished our cleaning tasks, he would set up the fire and extend a blanket near it, he would prepare a glass of milk and some biscuits for me. I laid on my tummy reading and he sat down near me with his back against an armchair, massaging my shoulders and caressing my hair that was a little bit longer because he liked it whenever it was clean; most of the boys had his hair very short to prevent lice. We stayed for hours chatting and reading, and then we kissed and hugged until the next day." "One Sunday evening, as usual, my father came drunk, he started calling mom whore and many other strong words, as I tried to defend her I told him: "She is not a whore, you are a bastard!" "Me a bastard?" He had his belt on hand and stroked me on my left shoulder and back, but he could not catch me as he proposed himself. Following my dad's instructions I ran. I hid near his house during a few minutes, I was scared and cold, when I realised no one could see me, I jumped into the yard, entered my dad's house and locked the doors. I went upstairs I put my boots under the bed and I lay under the covers trembling. I was very frightened, but I recalled the word of my dad "you are safe here." This comforted me, and after some minutes, I was asleep." "Some hours later, dad came and found me in his bed; he undressed me and himself and got under the covers protecting me. I woke up some hours later and I found his strong arm around me, warming me. I felt very happy and comfortable and did not try to move, so I got asleep again. I had a beautiful dream that I was running with him hand in hand thru lovely hills, we jumped from one hill to another as he giggled and I ran far and came back to hug him, then we flew from one cloud to another one, like the sea birds." At 6:00 a.m. I got up because my bladder was full of pee, after near eleven hours in bed. I was on my underwear, but the house was not cold, or at least I felt that. I was hungry, so, after peeing, I wore an apron as dad did, lighted the cooker charcoal fire and put some milk to heat, meanwhile, I washed my face and combed my hair in front of the mirror. I watched a happy boy there, I made a mock to him with my tongue and left. I prepared a slice of bread and dropped the hot milk on a bowl, I mixed the bread with sugar into the milk; It was fantastic how it tasted. It has been the first time that I had slept with my dad. Fortunately, I did it many times afterwards. Whenever I observed my father was drunk I flew into my dad's house, my home, until the next morning. When I finished, I cut two large bread slices and put on the fire; I prepared a wooden tray, took a clean bowl and I filled with hot milk. I put the toasts on a plate, carefully smeared them with olive oil and some sugar. All of this on the tray, I went upstairs. My dad was still asleep; he had come a few hours before. I put the tray on the nightstand and I jumped on the bed, I started kissing him repeatedly, he woke up, extended his strong arms and hugged me very tightly and dragged me near him; however, as he touched my back the bruise hurt and I moaned in pain: "My lovely and beautiful son, sorry I hurt you. Did he beat you again?" "Yes but only once because I called him a bastard." "Tomas! That's not a word for a little boy" I bent the head. "Sorry dad, but he called very strong words to mom and me, I could not help..." "Never mind, son; you ran here as I told you, that's what matters." "I adore you, dad." He then turned his head and watched the tray. He looked at me very happy, as his son had learnt his lessons. He ruffled my hair as he liked; I felt in heaven. "I must pee, but I'll be here in a second. Put off that apron, you don't need it in bed. I heard him peeing and washing his hands. "Did you have your milk, son?" He asked me. "Yes dad, I did." He ate all, cleaned his hands with a serviette and dropped again under the covers. "Still it is a little bit early, so we can have a nap." I cuddled facing him, my head resting on his strong shoulder feeling the warmth of his body. I was in the seventh cloud within my dad's arms. He caressed me softly, and then said: "Tomas, I don't think we can sleep anymore, but we can chat." "Oh yes dad, I have been sleeping for near twelve hours." He took my little palms, kissed both and carried them to my face, and then he kissed me a peck on the lips. I sighed as felt the most important boy in the world. Then he continued. "Tomas, I have given you these three kisses at the same time because I want to say you something very important, now that you are almost ten." I thought for a second he would say I must go or something else and my eyes started to blur. He guessed it and dragged me to his chest, and then he separated me a little and took my face between his strong hands. "No son, I'll never leave you, because a true dad never leaves his son." Now I understood his concerns. "Dad, do you mean that you..." I could not end the phrase because a bump formed in my throat and I could not stop tears dribbled from my eyes down my cheeks. I dropped myself on his chest and I noticed how he deeply sighed with a blur in the eyes. I felt his kisses on my hair many times as he continued: "Yes my son; you are not a bastard, I'm your true father and dad, and I will be forever. That man that spanks you has nothing to do with you, you are not his son. When you get a little bit older I'll explain to you why I did not marry your mom." I still was sobbing on his chest. He made a gap between both and caressed me repeatedly until I was quiet. Then between final sobs, I asked: "Daddy, does it mean that I can tell everybody that you are my dad?" He caressed me again. "I wouldn't mind at all; unfortunately we don't live in a large town like in the city. Your official father used to be a good man and he belongs to a good family, if we spread the news, he and all his family would suffer the mocks of the people; the same would your mom's family. Do you think it is worthwhile doing it? We would gain nothing except our satisfaction but we would hurt many persons to whom we cannot blame. Do you understand, my son?" "Not all but I don't mind if I can love you knowing that you are my real dad, so no one could say that I'm a bastard. I cannot understand why my father and mom's families would be offended; I have done nothing to them. I have only received spanks from him..." "They all love you too. Did any member of your family reject you any time?" "No, ever; on the contrary; when I meet them anywhere they kiss me." "Then, do you think we should hurt them?" "No dad, but I love you too much." I grinned. He then started tickling me. He began from my toes, my knees, my thighs, my tummy, my nipples: then raising my arms he did my armpits causing me giggling uncontrollably; finally, he kissed me a peck on the lips. "It is enough my little lad." He got out of the bed and I jumped on his back and he again dropped on the bed and started again tickling and petting me. I didn't know why but my little weenie had formed a tent on my underwear, he saw it and said: "Ah! Your little soldier also wants a kiss. Ok, I don't want any complaint." He dragged my underwear down and kissed my dick on the top, then covered it again. "I hope he is now satisfied." We laughed and joked for a while. I don't think any boy of my age could be at those moments happier than I was. It was time to open the school. We dressed and opened the door. Some minutes later the boys started to fill the classroom as a new week commenced." I was very happy when arrived home, mom watched me carefully and she was sad, very sad. She had a black eye and some contusions on her arms, I sat on her lap and hugged her; she hugged me back tenderly and kissed me. "You look very happy, my son. Why? Where have you been? Your dad spanked you before you could get away, however you are content." She had reminded me of the events; moreover, she called his husband "my dad." That made me near explodes in rage when I compared with the lovely wakeup of that morning in my dad's house. "He is not my dad and you know that, mom. I hate him! When I get older, he won't dare to touch you, I promise!" "Is that what your dad teaches you, hate?" I was astonished by her revelation; she finally had admitted who was my real dad. I approached and kissed her gently, hugging her not very tight, because I knew she had been seriously spanked and hurt." "Mom, please, don't say that, I love you and I love my true dad. He, on the contrary to what you may think, is always telling me that my father used to be a good man and, above all, I have to respect him and his family. You are not being fair... What do you think I do when he spanks me and call you those terrible words?" For an answer, she dragged me to her chest?" "You are too old for your age, my son; you have started to suffer too soon." "No mom, you are wrong. The pain I have received from him is nothing compared with the love I have received from my dad. I'm glad and very proud of having a dad like him. Only one kiss from him heals all my bruises, and he gives me all kisses that I want but mom, I also love you too much and I cannot bear to watch you being spanked, I can't." I started to cry on her lap and a happy day was being converted into a gloomy one. Between sobs, I added: "Do you know he never spanks or humiliates a boy? Even he convinces bad boys without touching them, to the point they apology other boys without my dad being present. They all love their teacher." She dried her eyes. "Well, my son, let's have lunch, we can enjoy and be happy at least until next Friday." I told my mom what we had done, the things we did in the school and how we learnt and read all those books. Yet I did not mention anything about the intimated moments with my dad, the jokes, caresses and happy times I had with him; that was our mutual life and I did not want to share with anybody, even with my mother. I recognize I was selfish but I loved and still love my dad very much." It was November 5th, Friday. That evening he shut the door and we started our mutual living activities free from any outsight; the normal ways of a son and his dad that loves each other and enjoys being together, jokes, tickling, laughs, etc. while he worked and I helped to clean the house. When we were finished and cuddled in the old couch in front of the fire he said: "Tomas, tell your mom, that tomorrow after the class, you will lunch here with me if she agrees," I answered him full of enthusiasm. "Oh, sure dad, it won't be any problem! I like being the whole evening with you; we will read a lot and must tell me some more stories." "Ok, son; now return home, I have seen some lighting in the sky and probably it will start raining within a few minutes. Come on, hurry up." I quickly ran home. Mom was sat writing something, I kissed her, and full of joy I asked whether I could stay for lunch with my dad the next day, as he had asked me. She nodded, yet, she seemed not very pleased. Next day was Saturday and my father would be there. He never asked about me but if he did and I was not there he might have the justification to start quarrelling. "Thanks, mom, I'll be here before nightfall." The following day I was anxious the classes were over to join my dad on the premises. He closed the door, opened his arms and as usual he hugged me. He had set up the table near the fire, with two plates and two candles that he lighted. It was very dark outside and we heard the thunders far away. I thought the display was special, he never did it before, but I liked enigmas. We ate in silence trying to guess the meaning of that special lunch. When it was over, we cleared the dishes and removed the table. He sat on the armchair and as he opened his arms, I sat on his lap with my head on his chest. I said nothing but my heart was beating inside my chest, finally, he said: "I suppose you are intrigued about the display for the lunch." "You can bet for it, dad; but you have told me many times to keep curiosity out of my mind. I can't but I try it." "Good boy. Do you know what day is today?" "It is Saturday. I'm not sure which day, I don't count them." "I have to do it for you. Today is 6th November and you are ten, my little lad. It is your birthday!" Before I could answer him, he kissed me on the lips quickly and hugged me very, very tight. "Congratulation, my son!" "I'm sorry, dad. I had forgotten it." I put my arms around his neck, hanged and I kissed him on the lips and around his face. Mom had also forgotten this day, however, my dad did not; only a dad that loved his son would do it. On the other hand, in those difficult times, birthdays were only celebrated by upper classes; however, we were something special." "Thanks, dad. No one ever told me." "As rich people used to do, I have a little present for you. I wonder if you will like it or not." "I'm sure I will. However, we are not rich, are we?" "We are very rich in affection, my son." He motioned to a chair "That little parcel is for you." I jumped and caught the parcel trembling with emotion as I opened it. It was a book, a lovely book that I had mentioned him many times: "The Treasure's Island." I left the book and I sat on top of my dear dad. I can't remember how many kisses I gave him, but a lot. You must realise I ever had a father and now I had one only for me to love. "Do you like it?" He asked. "You well know that I wanted it since I started to read. You are a naughty man, dad. Do you know that?" He hugged me and ruffled my hair, now too long, but he liked it because he said it was a beautiful silky hair and was a pity not to enjoy it despite lice contamination. I opened the book and on a blank page he had written: "To my dearest son Tomas on his 10th birthday." "I'll wrap it to prevent it from being soiled. "I have left a blank space in order your mom can write anything if she wants it." "Sorry dad, but it is your present, not hers, therefore, I'll keep as it is." He did not say anything, but I felt he disagreed. I lay on my tummy on the blanket and started to read the prologue. It was a big book but written with large printed letters for children. We spent that lovely afternoon ignoring the terrible storm that would carve our lives forever. We heard the thunders and lighting and some drops of rain; dad then said: "Tomas, you better go now before rain starts, it is very dark and within a few minutes will be night." I did not argue; he was right. I kissed and hugged him, took the book and ran to my house. I entered full of joy looking for my mom without noticing my father was there. "Mom, mom; look at this book; it is my dad's present; do you know that today is my birthday?" A strong hand took the book from my hands and threw it out to one corner of the room. "You are a bastard, and much more who gave you that stupid book." I faced him full of rage and shouted at him: "It is not a stupid book, you are ignorant, and I'm not a bastard because my dad gave it to me!" Full of hate and rage, he then took off his leather belt and started beating me saying: "I'll give you different books, son of the bitch!" I could not run away from him because I was in the corner trying to recover the book. He was furious beating me, I placed my little arms to cover my face and I received the strokes on them. Mom reacted from her prostration and tried to hold his hand: "Stop beating my son, you will kill him. He's only a child!" He turned around to her like a jailed tiger. "You whore and your bastard son. I'll kill both of you tonight! I was crying but I could not see that. I jumped on his back trying to stop him pushing my mother. Outside, started to rain heavily with thunders and lighting, as a prelude of the drama. He was drunk but had enough strength to throw away a child of ten y/o. He got me from the long hair with one hand and gave me a hard slap on the face; the blood started to run from my nose to my mouth and neck. I do not know how but I launched my leg to kick him and my boot reached his target on his balls. He yelled in pain, left my hair and bent himself. As soon as I felt free, I flew away looking for someone and help. I was terrified. I thought he would follow me up to kill me. I ran in the mid of heavy rain and thunders, all doors were shut, I could not see any light. I ran and ran thru the village's streets, crying and shouting for help, but no one appeared. One of my feet tripped against a stone, I stumbled and fell into a mud puddle. I got up in agony, I ran again. Suddenly, in my blur, I saw a light and an open door; I entered like a hurricane inside covered with blood and mud: "Help! Help! Please. Help me!" Two strong arms took me as I fainted." It was my dad that was arranging some books on a shelf. "Oh my God! If you exist, why do you allow this to a child?" He took me in his arms, placed me on the couch and closed all doors. He took off all my clothes, boots and socks tossing on the floor. He then wrapped me in a blanket and placed near the fire. My body started to spasm, trembling, he dragged me against his chest trying to give me all his life and warmth, while he cleaned my face of mud and blood; my nose had stopped bleeding, however, it was purple. I reacted with his warmth, opened the eyes still shivering and scared, but I heard my dad's soft voice: "Tomas, my son, you are safe, you are safe!" I opened the eyes and watched his face; I started to cry. I barely could articulate a word among sobs. "Dad, dad, where were you? I was looking for you and I couldn't find you..." He put me even closer to his chest; I could feel his warm tears on my face. We remained like that for what seemed me a long time. He comforted me feeling his face near mine. He did not ask me anything, but when I stopped crying, he said: "You are safe my little son, I love you; my heart is very hurt." "I love you daddy. He was so dreadful..." "Don't worry my child, now it is over." He had placed two large pots near the fire to hit the water to bathe; so, he left me near the fire and dropped the water into a wooden tub. He filled it again with cold water and replaced it. He took off the towel that wrapped me and dropped in the warm water. I felt very comfortable as he squeezed the sponge over my head; he started removing all mud and dirtiness from my hair and face, however, when he touched one of the many bruises I squirmed in pain. "It hurts, daddy; it hurts!" He kissed my wetted forehead and continued, taking care of where I had been stricken. When the water was very dirty, he lifted me from my armpits, emptied the tub and put clean warm water. Then as I was inside the tub, he carefully soaped and rinsed me. I stood up, he wrapped me in a large white towel and dried my body; and then thus wrapped he lifted me and placed near the fire. I could notice his sighs. He took the dirty clothes and put them into the warm water. I asked my dad: "Please daddy, sit near me" I pleaded. He sat down and slowly combed my long dry hair. I extended my arms to his neck and kissed him, starting to cry again as I remembered the images of the scene in my house. "Please son, try to forget; you are safe now and I promise you, he will never touch you again." "Daddy, I don't mind he spanks me if you love me." Again my words made the emotion to appear on his face. "Tomas, please try to relax, you are exhausted and seriously injured; I must call the doctor to examine you." I started again sobbing on the perspective that an MD examined me. "Please, please, daddy¸ don't call anyone. I'm alright, only a little bit pain on the bruises, that's all; please daddy, don't call anyone." He hugged and kissed me tenderly. "Alright Tomas, but are you sure you feel well." "Well daddy, I suppose I have my nose like a clown's." He smiled, I smiled, and we hugged. "I suppose you are hungry" "Not much, I'm very comfortable here." "Never mind, I'll prepare you a bowl of milk and bread, you must replace your strength." He did and as I was finished, he took me in his strong arms and wrapped in the towel; he carried me to his bed and tucked me in there, covered with an extra blanket. "Now my son you need to sleep and rest, I have to do something." I guessed what was in his mind and I did not want to be left alone, still, I was very frightened. "Please daddy, don't go anywhere, don't leave me alone. I'm scared." "Alright son, I'll be downstairs, I need to wash and dry your clothes. Tomas, you have demonstrated to be a brave boy that have kicked the balls of a grown man, how can you be scared? I don't believe you." He grinned at me, and it was so sweet and so lovingly that I reached my arms out of the covers and kissed him on the lips taking care not to touch my harmed nose." "I love you a lot, dad." "Ok, my beautiful son. Now, please, sleep and rest." I put my arms under the cover, he kissed my forehead and left, leaving the door ajar. I heard the rain beating the roof. This sound, the warmth of the bed, and the rest provided by my dad's kiss made the miracle. I felt all my pains gone as I flew over the skies in a nice child dream. My dad arranged things downstairs and still, he remained some time sat thinking his next steps, cooling out his temper and the storm inside him since he saw me entering his house. When he was sure I was asleep, he thought I would not wake up, he had put in my milk a little portion of a liquid made from purple poppies as he had learnt from his dad. He left, locking the door and walked up the street with his umbrella covering him, it was pouring rain. Without knocking on the door he entered the house he had never been; he watched my mom on the floor whining from pain, my father was sat on an armchair snoring. He entered the kitchen, took a jug of cold water and dropped the content on my father's face. "Wake up, bloody crap! Wake up fucking bastard or I'll kill you as you are drunk!" My father opened his eyes now not very drunk and got white as he watched my dad determination. He mumbled something that my dad did not understand or wanted to understand. He took him from his clothes and lifted him like a ragged doll. Full of rage, he was ready with his fist closed to hit him on the face, but at that moment, he heard my mom's voice: "Please Frank, don't hit him, he doesn't deserve even your rage, after all, he is my husband." My dad stopped and with his arm still ready to punch him he said: "You must thank your wife and to your family, to whom I much respect, because I came to kill you for what you have done to my son. However, listen to me very carefully, crap, because I won't repeat it twice: This time I'll leave you, but if you touch my son again, I will look for you until the very hell, if necessary; then you will regret to have been born. You are warned." My dad looked at the corner where mom was, he saw my book on the floor and picked it up and then he left the house blaming the door. My father sat again white and humiliated by his wife's words. He thought deserved Frank's words, and still, he could not believe why my dad had not hit him to death as he would have done himself. Dad walked a little bit more relaxed thru a couple of streets up and knocked on a door, the rain had stopped; a woman dressed in black opened the door. "Can I help you, Frank, it is a terrible night." "It is, Maria; but it could have been even worse. I don't need your help; your sister needs your aid. She is probably seriously injured by her husband and need your assistance." "Oh my God, when will this get and end?" She murmured. "The crap of your brother in law is still there near drunk, but lucid. Please tell your sister that Tomas is in my home happily sleeping. He seems well, apart from many bruises and his little nose almost broken. I'll return him to his mother as soon as she asks me. Goodnights, Maria." He left without hearing the thanks of my Aunt Maria. The following morning and a few more days I remained with my dad, we made many jokes with my nose until it healed and everything settled down wonderful. My father never touched me again; he scarcely spoke me directly, he always did thru my mom until six years later, when he passed away from a liver sickness. In those years, I felt sorry for him and told my mom that I did not hate him because I had my dad with me. Those years were the best ones of my childhood. There are many events from that time up today which I'll tell you if you want, brother. Chapter 10 --------------- It was close to the time the Counsellor would come when Francis finished reading Jim's brother story. He went to his bed and waited, and at midnight, he could observe how their door was open and closed again, as Jim had calculated. He smiled. Then he returned to Jim's bed and cuddled in his front. Jim felt the warmth of Francis' buttocks and hugged him. "I like you here, Francis." Turning around and facing Jim, Francis caressed tenderly him again. He wanted to make many questions to his friend and lover but Jim was almost asleep. They joined their bodies as one. One minute later, both were rock asleep. Saturday was the sports day; however, they were not subjected to discipline as the rest of the days, so they woke up at the same hour cuddled in the warmth of their bodies. Jim felt his dick hard against his friend buttocks, then extended his left hand over Francis and could feel the morning erection of his friend. He lapped Francis on the neck. "Do you know you have the most beautiful buttocks in the world?" Francis turned around and faced Jim with a sly smile on his lips. "I have noticed how you look at my ass." Francis extended his arm and started caressing Jim upper legs. "You also have a lovely childish ass, Jim, I like all of you." He again kneaded his friend's buttocks. They were on their elbow staring at each other. "Jim, my soul and my whole body belong to you; if you want any other part of me I'm ready to offer it to you." Francis blushed as he knew he had touched some unspoken taboo, but he liked to be free in front of his lover. Jim glanced tenderly at his friend and kissed him a long kiss of love. "Thanks, Francis, you are the most honest and desirable boy on the earth. I care about you too much and I wouldn't be fair if I say I don't like it. I would love to be inside you and you inside of me, if you like it. That would be the most beautiful act between us, but this is neither the time nor the place to do it." Francis blushed, again and hugged Jim, as their erections were rubbing together. "Why Jim? I haven't any experience of that. Have you fucked a boy before?" "Yes. I have fucked and I have been fucked a couple of times. That, my loved boy, take some time to do it, especially the first time. It is like breaking a girl's virginity; it requires a nice and quiet surrounding if we want not to hurt each other. I can tell you it is the supreme happiness between two persons in love." Francis sighed and caressed his friend's face. "I trust you Jim; let's do it. I want you inside me and become one body, one soul and one love. If you don't mind, I can find that place and the right time." Jim stared perplexed at his friend. "How and where? I wouldn't do it in school." "I'm not saying in school. What about a weekend in Paris? Paris in the night is a dangerous place, but during the day is the most beautiful city in the world." "You surprise me every moment. We cannot leave the school and take a bus without a special requirement." Francis grinned to his friend and pecked him lightly on the lips. "Jim, would you like to spend a couple of nights together with me in Paris? Please, tell me, yes." Jim looked at Francis pushed him on his back and then straddled him, their rock hard dicks together rubbing. "Yes, Francis. Please do it. But you must think that most of the time we'll be together doing whatever you have in your mind; I want all your dreams to come true." "You are great, Jim!" They started petting and rubbing their bodies until that fantastic orgasm overwhelmed them, taking their souls to the highest point in the universe. When relaxed, they caressed, cleaned and got ready to go to the dining room. They had breakfast and went to swimming. They wanted to be fit one hundred per cent. Mike and Paul approached Jim as soon as he jumped into the water. After some laps, Mike followed him to a corner where only Jim and Francis were having a good time diving. He smiled at then and Jim noticed that the little boy wanted to talk to him; however, he did not dare because Francis was present. "Jim, can, can, can we talk?" As he saw Francis started swimming to the other side so he left them alone, Mike approached him. "Please, Françoise, don't go, you are also my friend, don't you?" Francis grinned and tousled the boy's hair: "Yes, I'm your friend, too, but if you prefer..." "Please, Françoise." When they were together the little boy continued: "Jim, yesterday I told you we had two unfortunate boys, friends of us, but now I must tell you we are very close friends; we are best friends. We live in the same town, went to the same school, in summary, we are much closed. Paul and I suffer as much as they are suffering; we support and console them, but Christian cannot hold his tears. Noah is different, he is stronger. When both are together, Christian is the greatest boy you can imagine, he becomes into another person, I fear he might get sick if he continues like that." Mike felt how his eyes blurred, so he bent his head, he did not want Jim to notice his tears. "Jim, can we help them?" "What do you mean, Mike? I don't know what we can do now to help, even I don't know them," Francis said. "Mike, we are always in the swimming pool, tell them secretly to join the list of boys who want to swim, there is an open list for newcomers to form the teams. Meantime, we'll try to think about what we can do to console them. Next Monday, after classes, they must be here to join the rest of the boys. The coach has asked us to prepare a selection to choose a team of younger boys, so they can join us." Jim smiled at his lover. "That's a good idea. Tomorrow, try to sit near us in the mass, you must tell me who they are because I don't know them." Mike looked at them with an imp smile. "All boys in love should help each other." Then he jumped into the water and swam to the other side. Jim and Francis stared at each other grinning. Jim then said: "Well, if we found out they were in love, he is not a silly boy, he has also done the same about us." Both laughed and continued their exercises. Jim's brains started to work, he formed some ideas in his mind but soon he discarded them. At that moment, Raphael and Noel approached. "Hi boys! You are still happy, don't you?" "Yes, why not?" "Jim, you are a genius, everything happened as you told us." "I'm glad for you, however, you must keep yourself in guard, sometimes, a person can change without expecting it." Jim thought for some moments while Francis was talking to their friends, he then interrupted their conversation. "Raphael, you are nearly four years in this school. Do you know about the discrimination of those little boys? They had been separated because someone found out they loved each other." "Yes, I do. As far as I know, and I have questioned older boys, it never happened here before. I must go back to this school's history." They sat on the pool border and Raphael started: "The institution was created more than four hundred years ago. The aim: to educate boys who later would carry out roles as ministers, army officers, cardinals, etc. You must realize that only an aristocrat could perform those tasks, normal citizens were discarded; even Upper Bourgeoisie was banned unless they married an aristocrat girl. However, as from the 17th century, Bourgeoisie, bankers, merchants, and businessmen, became too powerful until the French Revolution. Until that time, the Church imposed their rules; however, with the new changes and ideas, they found themselves forced to change, too. Sexual discipline relaxed, and boys could love each other without much interference, whenever they proceeded privately and without harming Church's prestige. Since then, this school always had been very tolerant with such conducts. They knew this type of conduct was transient in the majority of boys. Nevertheless, this new situation is happening for a couple of years ago. I associate it with the strict moral imposed by the fucking Irish priest and supported by his bosses. We wonder why the Head Master consents it. He is a reputable hero and patriot; decorated with the "Legion d'Honeur" that lost his wife and his fertility at the hands of the Nazis. As you may know, these little boys are separated from their families and it is normal they try to find some relationship with other boys to replace the emptiness caused by their separation. It affects also to some older boys." "I understand. It isn't strange you are so highly considered in this school; you are a real historian." Francis and Jim spent most of the afternoon and the evening in their room, petting, joking and doing their home works for the next Monday. When finished, they sat on the large sofa, Francis was lying on his back with his head on Jim's lap. Jim gently started caressing the smooth of his friend's face, then bent and caressed him tenderly on his hair. Francis sighed happily, took Jim's hand and placed a kiss on his palm. "Francis, you know almost everything about me and my family, however, you have never told me anything about yours, only you made a light reference to your mom when you were sad." "It is a little sad, nevertheless, you must know about it, eventually you will meet them, and therefore, I should have said something about it. Let me show you something." He got up and went to his cabinet, extracting an album with some photos. Jim browsed the pages slowly stopping on one of the photos. "Who is she?" "My mom when she was young; those babies are my sister and me." "You were already a beautiful child, however, you are more beautiful now than then." For an answer, Francis grinned to his lover. "Thanks." "Who are these elegant gentlemen?" "They are Uncle Carl and my dad. They live as a couple, love each other since they were of our age. I never saw two persons more united than my dad and Uncle Carl. I can tell you they have been our mom and dad, despite being both men. Uncle Carl is one of the best lawyers of France, he is specialized in economic matters; he always rejects cases related to crimes. Since we are in boarding schools, he travels, attends to the University in Paris for conferences. Dad is also a good lawyer, he helps at home Uncle Carl, but he never goes away, he has a lot of business in hotels and restaurants." "They are rich men. Aren't they?" "I suppose. I never asked anything regarding their business. Uncle Carl had not close family, so he has been our mom since we were five. I love him a lot; I always find him when I have a need, he never disappointed or failed us. "If they are together since they were at the University, how to happen you and your sister were born?" Then pointing to one of the pictures Jim asked. "Is this young girl your sister?" "Yes, she is." "She is fucking beautiful. Oh! Sorry for the word Francis, but she must be a lovely girl." Francis smiled with pride. "Yes, she is even more beautiful than looks on the picture. I love her with all my heart. We are very united, though she's the stronger part." "Francis, if I make any stupid question, please ignore it." "Your questions will never be ignored. You have been honest to me, besides I like you too much to do it." He continued: "My granddad had a large fortune; he knew my dad had no intention to marry a girl, so he said that if he had not a grandchild he would leave his fortune for charity. They did not mind, because they were more than capable to live without my granddad's money, but hated the Church might receive their fortune. Uncle Carl and dad studied the problem and decided to face it, so Uncle Carl was commissioned to look for a bride for my dad. They were young and that seemed more a play than a serious matter. Uncle Carl knew many institutions with orphan girls, especially one that he had defended, it was run by nuns. He paid a visit to the orphanage and explained his problem to Mother Jessica, the nuns' boss; she understood and kept the secret." Francis then made a pause trying to remember every detail that Uncle Carl had explained to his sister and himself. Then he continued. "He interviewed candidate girls between 17 and 20 y/o; telling them he was looking for young ladies for future models, it is very common in this country. He met my mother and after the meeting, he was impressed with her beauty and way of thinking. He could have decided at that moment, however, he met my dad and then both took her for lunch and explained to her their plans." "What were the plans, Francis?" Jim asked. "They explained to her she would marry my dad and have a child with him. She then would be Mrs Lambert with all the prerogatives and money she needed, only under the condition of not producing any scandal that would undermine my dad's prestige. She was a clever girl and knew was young and could have anything she had missed in her life, so she accepted. She thought, eventually could divorce him if things were not as she had planned. They got married and to my granddad's surprise, ten months later, my sister and I were born." "She also was a Normand, as blond as my dad and the ninety per cent of the people. From time to time, she travelled and made her own life, however, most of the time she stayed at home with us. I scarcely can remember her. Suddenly, when we were five she left us. She asked dad for a divorce and he immediately granted it to her without any mess. He thanked her for her help, advising she should call him or send a message if she needed of money or help. Also that she could come to see us as much as she wanted, even to take us for holidays. However, he clearly stated to her that we were her children as much as his and his house was open to receive her as Mrs Lambert any time she wanted." "I think your dad acted like a gentleman. Have you heard about her, Francis?" "Let me continue, Jim." Francis was sad again but seemed he needed to open his heart to him. Jim caressed his friend with all the tenderness he could muster. "Francis, please, you don't need to go ahead, maybe sometime..." The blond boy looked at Jim and caressed him back. He then continued. "Dad always told us the truth. She was young and honest and needed to live her life; he never censored her, on the contrary, dad and Uncle Carl tried that we kept a good memory of her. I never saw her again until three years ago. We received a message from a judicial authority in Los Angeles, telling my dad that a lady named Mrs Margarita Lambert had died in a road crash. He kindly pleaded my dad to travel to the USA to recognize the corpse and to take the necessary steps to return it to France if he wanted. Dad answered that her family would travel to the US as soon as we got the related visas. A few days later we flew to California." "Francis, you don't need to continue if that makes you feel sad," Jim insisted. "Well, I like to tell you this, it seems as if I get a relief telling you; I never did to anyone else before." Jim took Francis in his arms and hugged him softly as to give him the strength he needed to continue. "We flew directly from Paris to Los Angeles. It is a long flight and we arrived very tiredly. My sister and I remained in the hotel sleeping because the time and food were different and we felt bad. My dad went to see the Judge and the French Consul, they named a policeman to accompany him for everything he might need, though my dad speaks English fluently. He recognized the corpse at the morgue and arranged the funeral within a catholic church that the Consul recommended. Two days later, it was a Saturday of July, we assisted to a mass, we had the Holy Communion in her behalf and before she was placed into the grave, they opened the coffin and we saw her. She looked beautiful but very white. I didn't recognize her. I don't know why, but my sister and I started to sob; my dad kept us beside him." "There were a lot of large and luxury cars and many people dressed y black that we did not know; they kissed us on the cheeks and shook my dad's hand. When we were almost finished and ready to return to the hotel, an elegant tall man that had assisted to the funeral, approached dad, he looked apparently, he was as affected as my dad was. He introduced himself as Patrick McLain, a lawyer; and he told dad that he had been a close friend of our mother. He invited us to take something in a restaurant, dad rejected it, but he did not want to look impolite. "Sorry Mr McLain, my children do not feel well after this long journey; however, we'll accept refreshment, today is a rather hot day." He took us to an elegant place where we asked for an orange juice and sat in a corner of a lovely place surrounded by gardens. Then my dad asked him. "Did you know her well?" "Yes, I did." "In that case, please, I would like to know whether she had left debts or anything. I had planned to see the Judge in order the Police can investigate anything related to her. She was my wife and mother of my children and I want her name clean of anything." I could observe how Mr McLain sighed. He kept silence for nearly one minute, and then he said: "Mr Lambert, you are a lawyer and so do I, however, before you do anything I must tell you something very important. I know you and your family very well. Please, before I continued I would like to apology for what I did; nevertheless, you may understand my position." He paused in silence for a few moments, probably expecting my dad would argue, but he said nothing. He then continued: "I knew Margarita seven years ago in the South of France. She was lonely, to make it short, I fell in love with her. Our encounters progressed and we shared the bed many times, yet I must say she always seemed absent when we made love. Some months later, she told me she would join me on my voyage back to the US, so we met at Southampton on board of the Queen Mary. She had spent some time saying goodbye to someone in the North of France. I knew she had been married, but I ignored she had children." Francis stopped his telling, sighed and added. "As I have told you, Jim, I almost could remember her; only as in a cloud I saw her hugging and kissing my sister and me. However, my sister could remember those moments clearly, she guessed what my mother was doing and did not drop a single tear. She hated mom for all these years. At those moments my mother was four months pregnant. I'll continue what Patrick was telling us." "We spent lovely days onboard until we arrived in Baltimore where we disembarked. A few days later she settled down in a beautiful flat in Los Angeles. I introduced her to our society and she was welcomed in it. After a happy week, I found out she was pregnant. I informed my family that I wanted to marry her. I made a discreet investigation about her family, of course including you. My family frontally opposed to my marriage, Margarita found out and quietly and without any fuss, as an educated person that she was, bluntly told me she would never marry me under any circumstance. She argued she did need neither my money nor my family. She was very proud to be named Mrs Lambert. Now I know acted like a coward because she was expecting my son and I did not insist on it. At least, I got from her to live in my house and work in my office, I wanted that baby growing within my family, hoping the view of him my family would change their mind, but they did not." "Jim, last year we knew more about those days thru Maria, her maid in Patrick's house. They became close friends. She was her confidant, spending many hours together alone while Patrick was at work or travelling on business. My dad recognized Maria within a group of Americans visiting Paris last summer, though she explained had the intention to find my dad. She told dad and Uncle Carl more or less as it follows:" ""Margarita was the greatest woman I ever knew. In such a way, she had deceived Mr McLain because she was a month advanced in her pregnancy than she had told him; however, she was that kind of woman that it is difficult to know by her womb, I have a sister with the same body structure. She came to the US, not because she dearly loved Mr McLain, but because she wanted to be faithful to her promise of not hurting you with a scandal. She told me if she had been one hundred per cent sure that her baby would have been blond she would have gone to Normandy, but she feared not. We prepared everything for the baby and during a trip to Florida of Mr McLain she had a beautiful baby boy. The next day was Friday and the Register Officer came. I can repeat you the conversation because I was sat attending her but in short, she explained to the officer she was spending some time in the US and that her husband was in France: "My husband is a well-known lawyer, you can ask about him in the French Consulate." "The officer answered that her task was to register babies and not other business. Because of her passport, she asked the name, clearly she said: "He is Charles Joseph Lambert, for his father and grandfather." The officer said nothing, she filled and signed a sheet, with the MD and I as witnesses, the officer gave her a copy. "You can obtain an original within a week at Central Register Office," she said leaving the room. A few hours later Mr McLain arrived, he was glad she was well, but I observed he was a little bit disappointed because the baby was blond. I picked the original the following week, and she went to the French Consulate and inscribed the baby, to be registered at Cherbourg Office in Normandy."" Jim then said: "She was determined to protect her son against that stupid family, preventing they could force him to change his name arguing about his real father." "Probably you are right," Francis added. He did not want to add that his family was ten times wealthier than Charlie's father. "Let me continue with what Patrick McLain was explaining." "As he grew, the boy conquered the heart of the rest of my family. Last Christmas, my father personally came home and asked Margarita for her forgiveness, he said he would do anything she asked them to obtain her pardon. As you well know, she had a sweet great heart. She forgave my family and with joy we programmed our wedding for this month. She said she wanted to go to France to see you and her children and obtain your consent." "Why? She did not need our consent, at least mine. She had a document by which she could divorce me at any moment." "I'm sure that if you would have changed your... relationship she would have been very happy to rejoin you, she loved you." "I told her that I could not love her, at least, in the way she liked, and you know why." "I insisted on it; however, I respected her too much. She had already applied for flying tickets to go to France since her children would have been at home on summer holidays." "Why didn't she come to see her children? I told her she could come to see them any time; furthermore, she could take them on holidays. The only restriction was not to travel out of France with them without us knowing it." "I'm afraid, Mr Lambert, I can't answer your question." "Please, call me Charles, will you?" "Thanks. Please call me Patrick. "Patrick, if I am not wrong, she was Mrs Lambert when that boy was born, and since you did not get married, legally the boy is my son rather than yours." "That's correct, Charles. My son is your son and I have not any right on him. Bluntly, he should join his brother and sister and I can't do anything to keep him. We know the Law and it is a silly thing to discuss otherwise." "Patrick, you are being too honest and acting as a father would; therefore, we must seek the best solution with the only aim of the boy's happiness. I know it is cruel, but I don't care a dime for your father's feelings or anybody else if that goes against the boy's future life and happiness." "I'm sure, Charles, those would be the words of any Judge in this country, so I must leave it to your conscience. Eventually, I would fight as a father, yet I know I'm on the weak side." "Patrick, before we reach any conclusion, can we see the boy? In any case, he has one sister and one brother and he should know them. Does he know that his mother has passed away?" "Not yet, I have neither the strength nor the moment to tell him. Still, I'm not brave enough to tell him; even I don't know how to proceed." My dad looked at that man that was going thru the worst time of his life." "Can we go now?" My dad asked. "Yes; I want to get over of these moments as soon as possible." Then my dad told us. "Françoise, Margarita; I know you are tired, but we have found a little brother of yours and we must see him. Please don't ever forget he is your brother. Let's go Patrick," The man paid the bill, went out and motioned a man in uniform; he immediately came with a large luxury car that took us to a residential area in the outskirt of Los Angeles. It was an old Victorian house that had been restored, big but not bigger than ours in Normandy; it did not surprise us. We entered the house and soon came a maid; she was visibly affected because I could see her red eyes, probably she had been crying. "Maria, where's Charlie?" "He's in the back garden playing with his neighbour friend; he is leaving just now." "Please, call him. Tell we are here." About one minute later we heard the yields of a little boy running. "Dad, dad, you have come back! As he approached I watched a beautiful blonde boy dressed in long trousers, I can tell you, Jim, he was my duplicate when I was five, same hair, same rounded face... He was a truly Norman boy. As it is traditional in France, I was wearing shorts trousers to my half thigh, however, in the US all boys wear long trousers; mostly jeans. He was surprised to see us, so he stopped in the middle of the large room staring at us carefully, then and before his dad could say anything, he turned into French exclaiming: "Margarita, Françoise, vous est ici!!!" He jumped on my lap and started kissing us." "Oh! It is you, my brother Françoise. Mom will be very, very happy to see you." I could not resist his expressions and hugged him to my chest very tight as if had know him since he was born. "I love you", I muttered on his ear. He then left me and went to Margarita lap and did the same. He separated from her saying: "You are prettier than in the pictures." We all looked at each other amazed, then his dad asked him. "Charlie, do you have pictures of your brother and sister?" "Yes, I do. Mom showed me. They are dressed in lovely Holy Communion clothing. When I make mine I want to be dressed liked my big brother. Would you do that, dad? Mom told me she would." Then looking at me said: "Françoise, you look a little bit sad, aren't you happy to see me? Wait mom comes; she's always talking about you and Margarita and had promised to take me to France this summer to see you." For an answer, I extended my arms and hugged him again. I felt tears coming to my eyes. Margarita then said: "Charlie, can we go to your room? I suppose you want to show us all your toys." His little face beamed and said: "Yes, come on, let's go upstairs, sister." Patrick wanted to say something to my little brother, however, my dad stopped him. "Patrick, leave the children to do their job, they understand each other better than we do. I know my children and, as per what I have seen, Charlie is not different. I never thought he resembled so much to his brother." "That's something against me. He is a true Norman rather than a Gaelic." We rushed upstairs into my little brother's room. Scattered of toys and tale books, he then happily said: "Françoise, mom will be very happy when she sees us together. Will you stay here and go with me to school? I'll show my friend I have a big bro, he did not believe me when the older ones teased me." I gazed at Margarita as he continued, she then said: "Charlie, you said mom showed you our pictures..." For an answer, he stood and went to a large wardrobe, rummaged and came with a large photo-album. In the first page was that picture I have shown you and other with her and Charlie with the same age. He proudly pointed out the next page where Margarita and I were dressed in our first holy communion. In the following pages, we watched pictures of our every birthday, except for the last one, when we were ten. I didn't feel anything for my mother; she had deserted us as she had done now with my little brother. Tears came to my eyes, but not for her, but for the little cherub that was on my lap. I looked at Margarita and we promised ourselves to look after him. I heard his pitchy voice. "She told me we would go to France." He then with a little pout on his lips continued: "She had promised to take me with her to France to fetch you, and now I think she went alone leaving me here. You have come here and it is almost two weeks that I have not seen her. Did you meet her?" Margarita is emotionally stronger than I am; she motioned him to sit near her and he did on her lap. "Charlie, she didn't fail you, she never went to France." Charlie got sad: "If she has not gone to France, where is she? Did you see her?" "Yes, we did." Margarita could not stop a couple of tears coming down her lovely cheeks. "But she'll never come back again." Charlie guessed something because he got very serious. "Why isn't she coming? She is my mom and I have been a good boy lately." We hugged our little brother as he placed an arm around my left shoulder and the other one of Margarita's. He watched tears in my eyes and started to sob quietly. Then he asked: "Françoise, why mom isn't coming? Doesn't she love us anymore?" I tenderly separated him from my chest, and staring into his beautiful blue eyes I said: "Charlie, you must be brave. She loves us a lot, but she's gone to the "Ciel" with little Jesus Christ." "But Maria says that only good boys go to Heaven when they die." Margarita and I hugged him tenderly. "Charlie, she is dead, she died in a road accident and his soul flew to the Ciel to look after us; that's why she couldn't come." He started to sob and hugged us very tight in a bunch; his little body convulsed with his cries. After some time, he said: "Now, now... I'm alone, an orphan, as my friend Jones is." Margarita caressed his silky hair and said: "No little brother, you are neither alone nor an orphan. You have us, we are brothers, we have lost mom but still, we have our dads." "But, but you will leave for France and I will be alone again." "Perhaps you could come with us to France. We have a beautiful large house near the seaside and horses, and many things to enjoy. We can play together and be together." "I would love that, and I would not feel alone if I'm with you. But I love my dad, he'll also be sad if I leave him alone. Perhaps you and Margarita can stay here with me, and then I would be very happy." His face beamed with his solution. "But, what's about our dad?" Margarita said. "We also love him." "You are right, what can we do, then?" "I'll tell you what we can do," I said. We can now spend a week of our summer holidays with you, then you come with us and you would stay as much time as you like in France. From now on, one year we will come to spend our holidays with you and the next you would go to France with us." His beautiful eyes sparkled in delight. "Would you do that for me, big bro?" "I'll do that as my name is Françoise Lambert." He, with pride, said: "I agreed with you, as my name is Charles Joseph Lambert." In a bunch, we hugged and kissed that beautiful cherub. Then Margarita added: "Let's say it to our dads." That was a fair solution; we stayed in his home as Patrick's guests, until all passports were ready, then Patrick and Charlie came to France and they spent three weeks with us. We ended being real brothers. He returned at Christmas and we enjoyed a lot together. We love him very much. Since then, alternatively, we go to the US one year and he comes next to France. These Christmas he will come home again; now he is nine going to ten." "It is a sad but wonderful story of fraternal love. But still, I don't understand why his dad consented on leaving his son with another surname, rather than his." "My dad and Uncle Carl are the most wonderful persons you can imagine and entirely unselfish. Above all, and right from the beginning, they wanted Charlie's and our happiness. Therefore that was a concession from our part. He had not the minimum opportunity since there was not any evidence he could prove Charlie was his son. Our photos, together with one of Charlie and my mother's, were shown to the Judge. Moreover, my mother had not applied for her divorce, though she had my dad's confirmation; besides, she had kept our names and photos in her passport. The US judicial authorities did no accept any argument, they sentenced that the only place for Charlie was together with his family, his sister and brother. Astonished, after my dad and Patrick pleading, the Judge reluctantly changed his sentence: Since the boy is a US citizen and his family consents on it, Charlie could continue with his name until he is eighteen, under Patrick's custody as his tutor, not as his father; once he is over this age, he would decide by himself whether he would want to continue with his surname or change into his physical father's, in that case, he must adopt him. Nevertheless, he, undoubtedly pointed out and warned Patrick, that in the event of him getting married, a minimum complaint from Charlie or my dad, related to the boy being rejected by Patrick or his wife, would cause the removal of his custody after an investigation. With this, he prevented Charlie from being abused by a future stepmother. Fortunately, as far as we know, it has not been necessary. Patrick got married a year later and he has a couple of twin's girls; it looks like Charlie loves them." Chapter 11 -------------- Sunday came, after breakfast, they prepared to go to church to assist at the mass, it was compulsory for all students remaining in the school. Jim hated that but he wanted to please his lover, and besides, they had planned to meet Mike and Paul there. As soon as they entered and sat down, Mike approached and sat near Jim, Paul near Francis. The little boy gazed at Jim in complicity and he made a light motion pointing out to a boy that was on the other bench with the head on his chest, they could see some tears dribbling on his smooth cheeks; he was sobbing in silence and from time to time, he glanced at other boy sat in the same place but a bench further. They observed how the sobbing boy very carefully extended his hand and touched the other boy, trying no one could see him. Mike, in a low whisper, said to Jim: "This is Christian; that is Noah." The mass went over and as they were returning to the dorm, Mike and Paul ran and got the other two boys together in a group, so that Jim and Francis could see them. They greeted them as occasionally and continued to their room. "I'm really worried about these two little angels, Francis; it is more than cruel to keep them separated. Why have they been punished? Because they love each other! It is an injustice. We must do something and quick. Look, Francis, this is my plan." Jim exposed Francis the plan, it was well conceived, however, it was dangerous. "Jim, it is a good plan but if it fails we may see ourselves into a serious problem." "I don't think so; though we must be prepared for that eventuality. There's not any connection between these boys and ourselves, we must keep this distance. Let's me prepare it in details; after tomorrow we'll secretly meet them." "How would you do that?" "Jean Claude told me we need to put some order in the basement's store, if he mentions it tomorrow, we can ask for some help within the younger boys, if necessary, we can suggest him these two boys, though the best would be he agrees we can ask to any of them, then I'll take the chance to meet the boys there." Francis took Jim's hand and pressed it. "I must forcedly love you, Jim. You are risking your own career only to help two unfortunate little boys." "May I remind you that you are more implicated than me, my dear blond?" Francis smiled in complicity. Sunday passed with the normal quietness. In the evening Jim was sat down on his desk writing his weekly letter to his family, Francis approached him from behind, extended his arms around his friend and hugged him hard. Jim extended his arms and grabbed him to his lap, his left arm around his back and the right on his thighs; slipping his right hand into Francis' crotch. They usually did not wear underwear on Sunday, only their tracksuits. When they broke their union Francis said: "We better finish our home works and do something, I'm very hard and you more or less the same." "Yes, you are right, "Mon petit Coeur." "What are you telling to your family?" "Do you want to read it?" "Of course, not." "I'm telling them that I have passed the most wonderful week of my life. Since I found out that you loved me, my life is entirely new." Francis smiled sweetly and hugged Jim again. "Jim, to have known you are the best thing that has happened to me in my life; up to now, I was a rich sad boy. You would never know how I envied those children playing soccer in the streets when they embraced happily and free of any obsession regarding their life. Money probably facilitates life but believe me, it doesn't give the happiness that people think about. "Probably you are right. But I have known many boys and girls that didn't eat bread because their parents have not money to buy it, so it is difficult to separate money from happiness." "Yes, you are right, too. It is very easy to think as I do when I have all that I wish. I know many persons in the world have nothing to eat and die from hunger. Many times I have thought if there is a God why he does permit it and there is no more justice in the world." "Perhaps we are selfish, Francis, but I prefer not to talk about this problem, we are only young boys and unfortunately we can do very little to change the world for justice." "It is time for me to talk with dad and Uncle Carl." Saying this, he jabbed Jim and left the room. In a few minutes, he was in the telephone box talking with his family. "Hullo Françoise! How are you? "Hi, Uncle Carl, where's dad? "He will be in a minute on the phone; I did not want you to wait; besides, I was anxious to know about your feelings." Francis sighed. "Oh, Uncle Carl! I'm the happiest boy in the world! This week has been the best in my life, as far as I can remember." "Françoise, you are surprising to me! Is he so good to you? How did it happen?" Francis told them all about, his fight and the posterior mutual love declaration. "Dad, he's so good and honest... I love him and what is more important, he loves me." "Are you sure, Françoise? Our friend, the Principal called me yesterday regarding your qualifications; well, we are so proud of you... I asked regarding Jim and he told me it is amazing how a boy could have settled down so quickly in a short time. You have never fought before anyone. I'm astonished!" "I was too, especially after the fight but at that moment I felt so strong and brave, with him punching that big boy, I dared with the other two. It was great!" "My God, I can't believe it! Does he love you, my son?" "Beyond any doubt, Uncle Carl; I would like you knew him. He is so honest, so trustful..." "Françoise, you are a good boy and better hearted, does he deserve you?" "Dad, believe me, you should say: do I deserve him? He is one of the cleverest boys in the school, number one in maths in my class and most likely in the school. Add to this he is handsome and honest and you get the perfect picture." "I suppose he has negative things, like everybody else." "Yes, he has. He is a poor boy, a street boy sponsored by a rich man; and very proud of himself." "Those are not so negative if we are sincere." "I know it, Uncle Carl, but he is like that. There is only one problem dad." "What is it, my son?" "Well as you can imagine we are young and..." His uncle Carl interrupted him. "You don't need to go further. We know the restrictions imposed since a couple of years ago in that stupid school, I had to decide I would have taken you to a different one, however, that institution has the highest prestige in France." "Dad, we would like to spend a weekend out of here together. Can any of you come here and pick us up? We cannot leave school, unless the Principal has written confirmation from you." "We know it, son, uncle Carl has to travel to Toulouse for a judicial problem that cannot be postponed. I'm very busy but I'll try to help you. If I'm right, what you both want is to be together and free from any of your teachers. I understand it and rely upon you. I'll tell you what we can do. I'll prepare everything in order you both can travel on the bus to Paris next Friday, and to meet you at one of our hotels." "That would be great, dad; can we meet at the Champs Elysees Hotel? I would like to meet Mr Jenkins, he had been always so kind to my sister and me..." "Of course you can. I'll talk Mr Jenkins. Normally weekends are very quiet at this time of the year, I'll instruct him all about. If you don't hear from us you go directly there next Friday evening." "Thanks to both of you, I'm sure you will like him. Sorry dad, but we love each other." "I know son." They continued talking about this subject and many others for near an hour. They sent mutually kisses and hugs and hanged up the phones. When Francis finished, returned to their room full of joy. Jim had ended his letter and was signing it. He heard the door open and looked at his loved friend. Françoise jumped in happiness and hugged his friend from behind. "I adore you, beautiful Latin. You must get ready; we are having a short weekend in Paris next Friday." Jim looked surprised but happy. "Jim, everything is ready, we'll stay at the Champs Elysees Hotel. I'll show you Paris, I'm sure you'll love it, it is a great and beautiful city." "I don't need any beauty, except you, Francis. Whenever you are with me everything will be great, even if Paris is an ugly place it will look radiant, if we are there together." Francis could not help and kissed his lover tenderly on the cheeks. "Jim, why are you so lovely? They hugged tenderly. "We'll depart as soon as classes end on Friday on the bus, and have dinner there. You'll meet Mr Jenkins; he's the kindest person I ever met. He knows me since I was a little child. He is English, however, is in love with Paris. "You look happy Francis, and that makes me feel wonderful." Jim reached him and nibbled his right ear. "I would love to be alone with you, but that costs a lot of money and you know I have nothing." "Please Jim, I told you I have that money, besides, we'll stay in a marvellous hotel where we have to pay nothing, it belongs to Uncle Carl's company and he owes me a lot of money." "He owes you money? I can't understand it." Francis stood and went to his desk, then extracted his little photo album. He showed him a picture of his uncle Carl and his sister Margarita. "What do you think about Uncle Carl and Margarita dresses?" "Well, he is very elegant and his dress must be from a high standard fashion-designer. On the respect of your sister, well... I can imagine she must have all the boys around her. She is impressive beautiful and wore also a lovely and expensively dress." "You are right in what the cost is expensive, but they paid nothing because I have designed both of them." "You?" Jim was dumbfounded as Francis grinned. "Yes, me. You are very good at cooking. Why can't I be good for designing?" "I know you can do that and much more, but you are not a fashion maker." "Well, I do the designs and the fashion-designer modifies them if he thinks it is necessary and sells to his customers without paying me anything. He charges to my dad for my sister dresses, but nothing to Uncle Carl." Jim laughed moving his head from side to side. "My God, you are a box of surprises." He stood up and ruffled Francis' hair. "I like you my young Norman. It is near time for bed and tonight we must sleep separately." Francis opened his beautiful eyes saying jokingly: "Why? You know I'm very scared and I can't sleep alone." "Because night check will take place around 3:00 a.m. and that isn't time to be awaked, nevertheless I'll satiate your needs before we drift to sleep." With that, Jim locked the door and grabbed Francis to the carpeted floor. They wrestled and soon their cocks were hard as rocks; undressed and started their lovemaking as every night since they declared their mutual love. After three great orgasms, they showered together, kissed good nights and went under the covers on their respective beds. Monday was a key day, according to the scheme they had prepared. Jim knew the swimming store was a mess, so that afternoon when they were in the pool, he said to the coach: "Jean Claude, the store is a muddle; it needs a little work to put some order in it." "You are right, Jim. As you well know yesterday we had that visit and the boys who came were not regarded as neat, they left that mess. Since you do not have an especial interest in today's training, could you, please, take a couple of those beginners and arrange that?" "Of course coach, I'll do it just now." "Thanks, man, you are always so helpful..." "You deserve it." Jim glanced at Francis that was swimming near the border expecting his signal, also two young boys were. He then, showing as casual, said to them. "Please little lads, you and you, come with me to the basement. First, dry yourselves and follow me." The two younger boys jumped from the swimming pool and a couple of minutes later they were dried and with their sports shoes on. The three boys left to the basement without saying a single word; however, as soon as they were in the long passage under the pool, Jim could observe they were hand in hand and staring at each other. They stopped in front of an iron door, Jim opened it and all entered, locking it again behind; then he said to the couple: "Now little guys we have not much time left, on the bottom, there is a mattress, do whatever you want while I arrange this mess." The two 11 y/o boys flushed but one of them, less shy took the other in his arms and kissed him tenderly on the lips long, the other boy deeply blushed but he did nothing to prevent being kissed. They separated and ran to the bottom of the room and started caressing each other. "I have missed you a lot, Christian." "Me too, Noah; I can live without your caresses." Their lovely dicks were tenting their swimsuits and their hands reached their crotches, massaging each other's dick. Soon they released from their single clothes and got naked, lay on the mattress and started grinding their dicks. Jim could not avoid hearing the sound and moans produced by the two little boys as they expressed their mutual love so long restrained. He approached them, watched how they were rubbing each other dicks, and at the same time, their lips locked; however, it was obvious they were not using their tongues. Jim's dick was not hard, he then touched the boy who was on top, the boy reacted scared looking at him. "It seems you love each other a lot." Noah, the prettier of them and less shy said: "Yes Jim, we love a lot each other, we had never being separated for so long and we needed this." "I see... but I think you don't kiss properly. Let me show you if you don't mind." "Please," Noah said. Jim took the cute boy in his arms and placed his lips on his, after rubbing them he pushed his tongue, the boy was a little reluctant but finally,º he opened his mouth and their tongues met. Christian noticed how his friend's dick jerked to his stomach and was harder than ever before. Jim was tenting his swimsuit, so the boy decided to help him by dragging his cloth to his knees, freeing his large cock. He took in his hand Jim's penis and started jacking him off slowly, Jim thought to stop the little boy but he was immersed in great pleasure, at the same time he was jerking Noah hard little dick with his palm against his belly. Soon he noticed the boy in his arms how he got rigid and moaned in pleasure. He assumed the boy had reached the climax of his first dry orgasm of that morning. He separated him tenderly and Christian stopped masturbating him. "How was it, Noah?" Christian asked. "Fantastic, Christian. Please, Jim, show him the same as me. The other boy blushed, however, he soon found himself in the arms of the big boy and their tongues exploring each other mouths. They kissed passionately as Noah resumed Jim's dick jerking. Christian excited as he had seen his friend, he too, got rigid, his hard dick poking against Jim balls as he reached his dry orgasm with a loud moan. Jim pushed the little boy body against him as he also moaned. Noah felt the large dick was close to explode and start spurting so, he pointed it straight to the floor. He was tempted to put it into his mouth but Jim had demonstrated to be his friend and perhaps he might not like it. Jim shot his small load; the first shot landed a metre far and other near his feet and on Noah's fist. He then reached Noah and kissed him on the lips. "Please, bring that dirty towel; I'll clean my mess while you continue your exercises." Both boys grinned and soon they were on the mattress kissing passionately, but this time their tongues mixed, exploring each other's cavity. Jim continued his task, he heard the moans and gasps from the two young boys as he could observe now they were in a 69 position sucking eagerly each other. He felt again how his dick got hard; yet, he turned his head and concentrated on his job. Some minutes later, the boys approached and both, at the same time, hugged him on the waist. Jim caressed their heads and could see the beauty of Noah and the sweet and sparkling eyes of the shy Christian. "Thanks, Jim for this marvellous time. We would like to be on the mattress for a whole day, but we realise we have come to do a job and that need to be done," Noah said. Jim ruffled their hair again saying: "If we succeed, you will have all the time you may need, once you have done your homework, of course." "Of course." Both lads repeated smiling. They went to the mattress, put on their swimsuits and sat down, and then Jim said: "Boys, this is a very serious matter, and before I go ahead explaining to you what we have planned, I need you to swear that nothing of what we talk here will be released to anyone, we face being expelled from this school if someone out of our gang knows it." Noah very serious said: "Everybody thinks I'm a catholic and behave as such, but Christian knows I'm half a Jew, so I can swear by the Sacred Torah that my lips will be sealed." "Do you want me to swear on the Bible? I'm ready to do it, if necessary," Christian added. "No, it isn't necessary, only I want you to know that this is a grave matter and I gain nothing in it. We want you and some other boys to be happy enjoying your lives together, as used to be in this school; not separated." "Thank you very much," Christian said with a blur on his eyes, pressing Noah's hand. We love each other and we want to be together as we were until we came to this fucking school." Jim grinning said: "Mind your mouth, little one. Okay, now listen to me carefully. Look, this school has been very tolerant during the past five hundred years. Many of its students have been ministers, princes and even head of government. The love between boys was tolerated whenever it was restricted to their rooms; however, this rule practised for nearly five hundred years was broken two years ago, with the arrival of this priest, therefore, we will aim to remove him and his policy from this institution." The little boys stared at each other amazed. Noah then said: "How can we do that? We are only poor boys and they are adults?" "We aren't as poor as you said, at least you; we are clever and we have developed a plan. We need two things, a pretty boy and a good actor. Who of you is the best performer? Christian chuckled and immediately answered: "Noah is the best, even he can cry at the stage. You can't believe how good he did last year in our previous school; he received an offer from a filmmaker but his dad rejected it." "Is that true, Noah?" Jim asked. "Yes it is, but perhaps I'm not as good as he believes. He always exaggerates about me because he likes me." "You are a liar." Christian angrily argued. "Okay, Noah, you will carry out the most important role of your life, I'm sure you'll do it perfectly." Chapter 12 --------------- The little boy grinned as Jim continued and Christian kissed his cheek with love: "I'll explain to you later. You Christian, next Monday, once we finish swimming and have dinner, you will go into the chapel and hide behind the provisional confessional tab; it must appear you are praying. If someone asks, you must say that you are shy and don't want anybody watching you praying. The priest will lock from inside the main door entering the sacristy, most likely together with Noah; once they enter there, you'll proceed to open the door and make a signal to Françoise that will be outside waiting for you to open. Once in there, you'll accompany him. "How will I know that Noah is there?" "Noah, during the swimming you must clearly show us, your palms open followed by a deep dive means you continue. If you think we must postpone our action, make a "t" with your hand and deep, that will mean postponed for the following day; and finally, your fist clenched and twice deep will mean everything is ok and we must proceed as agreed. With that, nobody will suspect on any of us, as they cannot see us together or talk. Is it clear?" "Yes." The young boys answered at unison. "Now Christian, you can return to the pool, I cannot say you just now how we'll carry on, later on, Noah will explain it to you in your bed and your room." They smiled and did not make any question. Christian then said: "Jim, I won't make any question, I'm sure we will succeed. Can we? ..." Jim grinned. "Yes, but be quick." The little boys did not wait for a second, they dragged the swimsuit to their ankles and immediately started sucking their dicks in a 69 position. Jim turned his head and went to finish his task. Soon he heard the low moans, especially from Noah, as they reached their mutual climax. Still, with their dick erect they kissed tenderly and Christian left. Jim then made a motion to Noah to sit down near him, he still was hard, and however, he did not want to lose a single minute. "Jim, do you want me to suck or jerk off your dick?" Jim stared at him with a tender look, then ruffled his curly brown hair and said: "I would like it a lot, Noah, but we have no time to lose. We may do something all four together if we reach our objective." "I'm sure we will." "Now, Noah, this is our plan." Jim explained him in detail what they have discussed that would happen, depending on the interpretation of his role. When he finished, the boy seriously said: "It is a good task; however, you know I'm not catholic." "I know that, but think that you are performing, and you are an excellent actor." The boy grinned as he hugged Jim. "I'll do it, Jim. I'll do it," He said sternly. "Jolly good. By the way, your dad is a newspaperman. Isn't he?" "Yes, he's more than a newspaperman, he's director of the most influent newspaper in the South of France. He owns most of the shares of the company which runs the newspaper." "Excellent! I hope we don't need his help." "Why? He loves Christian and me a lot, and would do anything for us." "Please, don't think about that by now, Noah. I'm sure we won't need him, we are more than able to carry out on our own, it is supposed that this school has the cleverest boys of Europe." They grinned, stood and went to the swimming pool, jumping into the water from one of the corners. It was Monday and Noah decided to start representing his role. After dinner, the chapel was open to allow the students and teachers to pray. There were two groups of benches separated by an aisle in the church. Noah went in and sat down on a bench three rows to the bottom on the right group, near the confessional box and the main gate. He looked sad; he kneeled leaning his arms on the next bench, his hands like a little praying angel. He did not move; yet, thru the corner of his eyes, he was watching the priest. Soon the boys and teachers started leaving the chapel; he remained moving his lips as if he was praying. He could observe how the priest sat down on another bench on the left side of the aisle watching him. Noah sighed and produced some tears that dribbled down his smooth cheeks. The priest caught that and after a few minutes, he decided to approach that beautiful boy; however, Noah was prepared, so as soon as he noticed the priest moving, he stood up, signed and before the clergyman could approach, he left the church. He smiled to himself and thought: "Good start." Next day, Tuesday, Noah, dressed in a tracksuit, went in and sat on the same bench, he could observe how the priest spotted him and as soon as all persons left, he sat near Noah. The boy was with his head bent to his chest, seeming he was weeping. "Can I help you, little boy?" The priest asked. Noah did not answer, he moved his lovely head looking at the priest, and this could not help but melt in love with the beautiful boy, his eyes watering. "Are you homesick? Noah returned his head to its previous position. "Oh, no, I'm alright, father." "Then, why are you crying?" He kept silent and then with a cracking voice answered the priest: "Because... because I'm not a good boy. I... I have offended little Jesus in spite he's being very good to me." "What did you do to offend God? He is our father and I'm sure He will forgive you because you aren't as bad as you may believe." "Are you sure father? I did bad things, and..." "Please, little boy, I am your priest and His representative, besides, you are in his house and anything that you do or say here He will forgive you." "But I didn't do bad things here, but at home with a friend of mine and my cousin Marcel." The priest immediately knew what the boy feared about, he extended his right arm over Noah's shoulders and dragged him to his side; his left hand was on the boy's thighs rubbing them slowly. "If you want, you can tell me now, either here or in the confessional box, none will be released and only God will know them." "But will He forgive me?" Noah asked apparently in an innocent way. "Of course, He will." Noah then rested his head on the priest's right shoulder, the man could smell the boy scent thru his nostrils; it has been more than two years he had not been so close to a boy, especially so pretty as this one. His dick was hard, very hard. He knew he had to be very careful, as he had always been. "I... I... did sex things with my friend. We... we..." In view on the boy doubts the priest encouraged him. "You can trust me, little soul." Noah again moved his head and looked to the priest with his large brown blurred eyes. "We lay on the bed and rubbed against each other until a nice feeling came to... to... " "Your penis." The priest asserted. The man had left the boy's thighs and his left hand was now gripping his hard cock, slowly jacking himself off under his robe. "Yes." The man now almost with his climax and stammering, asked the boy." "Do you want to confess and tell me everything?" Noah smiled to himself. "I'll do the day after tomorrow for the next Sunday's holy communion. Now I feel much better and relieved. You are so good, father... You have helped me a lot; I'm now more comforted." The priest moaned, at that moment he reached the high point of his orgasm and started spurting his load into himself. He thought it was safer not to push the boy and said: "Come tomorrow and I will confess to you, I'm sure you will feel a lot better." "Thanks, father, but tomorrow I can't come because I have swimming, and now I have a lot of homework to do. I must go. Thanks again." Noah stood and kissed the man's hand. The priest rubbed lightly the boy's cheek and he felt how his dick was again hard. Noah sighed, smiled at the priest, and as he was leaving the priest insisted. "I'll be here, you can see me anytime." Noah looked at him with an innocent glance and bent his head with respect, leaving the church. "You bastard..." He thought. He went to the library to pick up a book and as agreed, he met Jim and Francis, in a couple of seconds he looked at them, winked his eye and clenched his left fist; with that, he was telling them everything was going as planned. On Wednesday, he went to swimming and he saw the priest watching all boys, Noah dove in a corner and rubbed his dick so it got erected and tenting his short swimming speedos, then with his bulge, he went to jump into the water near where the priest was watching the boys. Their eyes met for a fraction of second and he smiled at him, no doubt, the man had fixed his eyes on that part of Noah's body covered by the fabric. Suddenly the coach approached the priest. He slowly but with determination said: "This is not the time you can be here; if you want to swim you must come properly dressed and when the boys end their practices, so please, abandon these installations just now." The priest looked at the strong man with hate. "I am the priest and..." The coach did not allow him to continue. "I don't care whether you are the priest or Jesus Christ, you must leave or I'll push you out." The priest was red of anger but he could do nothing, in fact, he was transgressing his authority. He argued: "You are offending the Church." The coach smiled. "That's up to you. Fortunately, we leave in a free country and the Inquisition disappeared a long time ago." The priest walked out containing his rage. He looked back and watched Noah playing with his friends. As the coach returned, after locking the door, he heard the boys applauding him. He looked satisfied with his pupils. He knew most of the boys in the school supported him. "Let's continue our task." On Thursday Noah was wearing the school's uniform, as is traditional in Europe, shoes, woollen socks to under the knee, shorts well over the knee and a pullover. The boys normally used long trousers after entering puberty, in this school 13 y/o. He wore old pairs that were even shorter. He went to the chapel and kneeled in the usual bench, he bent his head and motioned as he was praying. Only a few boys and a teacher were present; soon they started leaving. Noah sat down exposing near all his thighs to view. The priest approached and, as the previous days, he sat down near him on his left side. Seeing the boy sadness he placed his right arm around Noah's shoulders and asked: "Why are you so sad, my boy?" "I... I... I am still ashamed, father. I only feel good when I'm here in the church with you." The priest watched those beautiful white thighs and could not help but put his left hand on them and started rubbing softly from the knee up. Noah noticed how the priest could not stop silent moans; he closed his eyes, his dick started to grow as he imagined his beautiful friend Christian's hand was approaching to his dick, as many times they had done. "Why, my son?" He woke as he heard the priest' words. Noah made an innocent pout. "Because when I leave I start remembering what my friend and my cousin did on the bed, I'm sure little Jesus is offended and I regret it a lot because I love him." The priest's hand crawled up and down and pulled the boy to his side. Noah rested his head on the man's shoulder and could observe how excited the man was and speaking in a husky voice, nearly stammering: "Don't worry my son; Jesus forgives you because you are an honest and good boy. I can absolve your sins right now and you can have the Holy Communion tomorrow." The man could not resist anymore as he reached his climax and started spurting his semen inside his underwear. Noah then insisted. "I want to take the communion at the Sunday mass, so I'll confess on Saturday because I think these thoughts will continue and I don't want to offend little Jesus any more." The priest continued kneading Noah's thighs, now near the boy's loins; the man's cock continued hard as a rock even after he had had a strong orgasm minutes before. "I don't know why, but I can't put away from my memory those moments when we were nude all three rubbing against each other until the nice feeling came. Only here, near you, I forget everything." Noah noticed again the man excitement and he knew he was close to spurting his semen again. He then stood up slowly; the man's hand rubbed for a second his dick and sighed. "I must go, father." The priest near in a quiver said: "Please, stay for a little longer." "I would love to be here the whole night, father; you are so good to me... but I don't want to break the rules of our school. Besides, I have a lot of homework to do before the lights are off." The priest understood the common sense of the little boy and he reluctantly admitted it. He had touched for a fraction of second the boy's dick and he gladly noticed he was hard and enjoying his touches. He thought it was advisable to take things slowly and not to push the situation. He had a large experience on little boys like this one. "You are right, my son. Rules are rules and we must meet them." The priest could observe the bulge on the boy fly, he was sure the boy was as hard as he was. What a marvellous thighs he has!" He thought. Noah smiled at the priest and then he hugged him on the waist. "Thanks, father for your help to me. I am very happy to have someone to whom I can trust and talk about my problems." He kissed the priest's hand and walked out. The man stared at the beautiful boy's legs and his rounded butt cheeks that wiggled as he left the church. He wanted this boy; he had not any close contact with a boy for two years. He only enjoyed when he jacked himself off during the boys' confessions; most of their sins were related to sex. He had started his sex experiences at Ireland, his home country, when he was ten, with his parish's priest and another altar boy. With the priest's recommendation, he entered the Seminary, and there he found some other priests and boys; he sucked and fucked and otherwise. When he became a priest, they sent him to a French Seminary in Paris, as an English teacher. The time spent at that school was the best of his life, thru the confessions he found many boys with whom he shared the bed and all sort of sex experiences in that close surrounding. He had to pay back for those enjoyments, a couple of times per month, he secretly visited the bishop's palace and fucked him and was fucked by his superior. He was promoted within the Seminary school and he was a strong candidate to become a bishop in the future; still, he was too young. A new archbishop replaced the old one recently deceased. He called him, as recommended by the bishop, and was appointed priest and moral inspector at a school with high prestige in Orleans; there, only rich and exceptional bright boys were admitted for the last five hundred years. Traditionally, that school permitted sex relationships amongst boys whenever it was in private; many of the boys educated there were the sons of government ministers, bankers, lawyers and very rich people, especially from Paris area. He was instructed by the bishop to get an end with that practice that for him was perverted and aberrant. He gave him full power to do whatever he needed, the Head of his Order in France agreed on that. He did not like the task, but if he succeeded, it would mean an important step in his church career. As the little boy had promised, Saturday evening he sat down near the confessional box waiting for other boys ended their praying; he was the last one, as they carried out with the imposed penitence and left the church. Noah was dressed in a tracksuit, as usual, was sad, almost sobbing when he approached the confessional box by the front. After the preliminaries, the priest said: "Which are your sins, my son?" "Oh father, I don't know what's happening to me. Only when I'm here I feel very comforted." "Are you offended by someone?" "No father, I'm the one who continues offending God, because I... I... well my penis is hard most of the time and thinking in what I did with my cousin Marcel and my friend." "What did you do together?" "It is hard to say, father, I'm really ashamed." "Don't worry, son. Jesus loves you and He wants the honest and brave boys... like you. So you can confess your sins because he will forgive you." "Well... mostly we lay on the bed, kissed and rubbed against each other until the nice feeling came; we used to do this during a long time." "Weren't your parents there?" "Yes, but we did it in my room or his during our sleepovers." The priest was hard only thinking about what these marvellous boys did together. His thoughts came as when he was a boy in the Seminary and visited the priest's cell. "You did that when you were with your friend and what did you do when you were alone?" "Well, I rubbed my penis against the sheets." The priest smiled and reminded him of what he did when he was a boy like this precious one. "And now, do you continue doing the same in this school?" Noah smiled for himself, he thought: "this fucking priest wants to catch me as he did with a few others; including my innocent and loved Christian." "This is my problem. I cannot do this because my roommate is a full boarder and I'm not acquainted with him, we are just pals. That's all." "It is a sin, but most of the boys commit masturbation." "Masturbation... what is it? I heard sometimes other boys talking about that, but I don't know what it means." The priest was slowly masturbating himself as his dick was hard as a rock. "Well, masturbation is a way to get rid of your hardness. I can show you if you like." "But you said it is a sin." "Yes it is a sin if done out of the church, but here Jesus is watching us and anything not hidden from him is not a sin, besides you are confessing and that demonstrates that you are a good boy." Noah grinned. "Please show me, I'm now very hard." The priest sighed trying to hide the tent formed in his cassock. He stood and said: "Please, follow me to the sacristy." The priest came out of the box and went to a door near the altar; however, before that, he closed the church main entrance. "No one will come, you were the last one." He opened the door and motioned Noah a large couch: "Please, sit down comfortably." Noah sat down stretching out his legs. The priest kneeled in front of him, stared at the bulge of Noah's trousers and sighed, close to ejaculated; he then said: "Show me your penis." Noah grabbed the elastic of his trouser and underwear and dragged down to his knees, popping out his lovely uncircumcised dick, as it is normal in Europe. The priest fixed his eyes in that beautiful boy cock, he was well endowed for his age, he thought. The man dragged the clothes to the boy's ankles, exposing those lovely thighs that he had touched a couple of days before. He rubbed them, put his hand under the boy's ball sack and fondled them. Noah closed his eyes as he also was feeling a lovely sensation, thinking in his loved Christian. The priest gripped his right hand around the boy's cock and squeezed it, them he said in a cracked voice: "What I'm doing to you is masturbation." The priest closed his eyes as he started spurting his semen in his underwear." Noah then said: "Please, father, don't stop, please, please!" With his thumb and two fingers the priest started jacking the half-Jew boy off, some seconds later Noah arched his hips, stopped breathing and moaned loudly: "Agh!" Noah groaned. "That was great, father. Please, don't stop until my penis is soft, I like it very much." The priest was in heaven and his mouth drooling. He left Noah's ball sack and took the boy's shoes off, then dragged his trousers and underwear off, leaving only his socks; he then arched the boy's knees and started caressing his inner thighs. Noah could not resist this new action and soon a second climax hit him, again moaning loudly. The priest continued his caresses without stopping the strokes on the boy's dick. Noah was breathing heavily moving his lovely head to both sides of the coach. The expert priest's hand rubbed the space between the boy's ball sack and his anus, which made him scream in delight: "Oh, thanks to little Jesus for..." He could not end the sentence; arched again his hips trying to meet the priest's hand as he again experienced a strong dry orgasm. The priest also was close again to spurt his semen; he rubbed the boy thighs and balls and could not help but to stop jacking Noah as he received his second orgasm and started spurting his cream inside his clothes. "Please, father, don't stop, please, please." The priest had stopped masturbating Noah to caresses the boy's chest, pinching his nipples and rubbing his smooth tummy. He would have liked to kiss those sweet lips and suck the boy's cock; however, he thought he might have time to do that. Despite the abundant precum that the boy's penis was producing, he spat his saliva on the boy's dickhead and resumed his strokes. The priest thought that Noah had to be close to his 12th birthday. Now the boy was more relaxed and took him near two minutes more to send the boy to orbit. The orgasm was so powerful that the child screamed in pleasure; the priest observed how the boy's penis softened, then he left Noah to recover and asked him: "How was it? As you can see I got rid of your hardness." "That was fantastic, father. Thank you very, very much for your help. Only my cousin Marcel did to me something similar, but he did not mast..." "Masturbated." The priest pointed out. . "Exactly. He didn't masturbate me. When can we repeat it?" "You liked it, didn't you?" "Oh yes, a lot." "We can repeat it anytime that you want, however, you must keep it secret otherwise, all the boys may want to enjoy it, too. By the way, what your cousin Marcel did to you?" "Well, it is too weird, he... he..." "Come on, don't forget you are confessing with me and you shouldn't hide anything to little Jesus." Noah got serious and said: "Well... Marcel became a baby and he sucked my penis as it was a teat. It was so great that I near fainted." The priest smirked. "Do you want me to do it to you just now?" "Oh yes! I would love it." The boy exclaimed. "But now my penis is satisfied and my hardness has disappeared." "We can do it tonight; I'll go to your room with an excuse and bring you with me to my cell." The priest could observe that the boy was not ready to accept and he thought about another alternative; after having masturbated the boy, he wanted above all to take him to his bed. "Or tomorrow after lunch, I can do it to you." "Oh no! I have a lot of homework to do tonight, and tomorrow is Sunday and I will take my communion; besides, little Jesus won't be there and again I'll be ashamed because I did something on his back, he might be offended and I love him." The priest smiled at the apparent innocence of the boy. "In that case, get dressed and I'll give you the absolution." "You are not mad at me, are you father?" "Oh, surely not, I just want to please you." The boy grinned. "What's about on Monday evening? Monday is a quiet day and I must come for my prayers. Would you do it to me then?" The priest thought it was a good idea; they could do anything here in the sacristy without anyone disturbing them and with the boy's belief that Jesus would not be upset. "Yes, it is a good idea. After that, we can pray together." "I love Jesus and I like you, father; you are also a good friend." Saying this Noah hugged the priest. He had already dressed; then he kissed the priest's hand and kneeled. Then the priest said: "Now, as penitence, you must pray three times the Hail Mary and tomorrow you can get your holy communion." "Thanks again, father." Noah left the sacristy for the church; he did his penitence and left the building. Once outside he smiled, "You lascivious and bastard, you like doing me what I want to do with my Christian, that's not justice." The boy's eyes blurred with impotence and rage thinking in his beautiful friend and how he had suffered since they came into the school, only Jim, risking his future, did something for both. "How I would like to be on a bed all three together! Or four, including Françoise, because I know they love each other as we do Christian and me. Oh, my Christian! I love you too much," He murmured. End of Part 2