The characters in this story are all under 18, but because of the age difference and the nature of the interaction, it belongs in the adult/youth section. I suppose you should assume that it is completely fictitious, and in any case names would definitely be changed to protect the guilty.

 

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By villager@hushmail.me

 

 

 

This was intended to be the last part of this story, but Frank made me change what I had originally intended to write, so I will have to write another part to relate the ending

 

Babysitting Frank – Part 5

 

continued from part 4...

Gosh, I had never seen this side of my father. Dad then nodded his head as if coming to a decision. "Wait there a sec, son." He left my room quickly.

A minute later he was back, carrying a rod-shaped object. "I ... um ... acquired this some time ago," he explained, "But your mum ... urm ... I mean I've never had any occasion to use it. I think you might find a use though. If not, pass it on to one of your mates who can."

I had no idea what it was as I took it. It had a rubbery feel. "Urm – what is it?" I asked.

"Oh, so you don't know everything!" my dad said. "What does it look like?"

I held it up and examined it – and realised with a shock that it was shaped like a big penis! "Oh!" I exclaimed, getting an idea as to its probable function.

"It can get things started," said dad, "And can also be handy if you – um – finish first."

I smiled at him, quite excited to be talking so intimately about sex with my own father! "What are these?" I asked, pointing to some rubbery flexible horns that were moulded on the side of the fake cock.

"Erm, they rub over the front and erm ... well if you don't figure it out I expect she will!"

I remembered Mark's startling revelation about girls' anatomies, and grinned at my dad, nodding in understanding.

"Right then, that's all settled." Dad looked relieved. "Your mum and I would love to meet her," he said to me, "but only when you feel comfortable about ... erm ... putting her on display." Then, as he stood up he announced incongruously, "Tea's nearly ready," and then, "Oh and Martin ... ?"

"Yes dad?"

"Make bloody sure you keep those things somewhere where your mum won't come across them. And next time you have a visitor, dry yourselves properly, make your bed and air your room a bit before mum gets home." He winked at me, "You don't want to frighten the horses, do you?"

I sat in a daze, flexing the dildo. "It's much too big for Frank, but Mark and Sue are gonna love this," I thought to myself.

 

 

It was not unusual for me to visit Mark in the evenings, and in fact we usually really did use the time to do homework together, so his mum and dad were unsurprised when I knocked on their door after tea that evening, clutching my school satchel. Mark shut his bedroom door after Frank, he and myself were inside. His mother shouted up a warning to Frank not to disturb his brother and I doing our homework. I wasted no time before telling Mark and Frank about the conversation with my father, and handed the condoms to Mark, saying that he was obviously not going to be short of protection from now on. I decided to keep the tube of lube for myself, figuring that Frank and I might find a use for it sometime! Then I produced the dildo, and Mark and Frank handled the unfamiliar device, giggling. "Christ, I can't believe your dad gave you this. Sue's gonna love it!" Mark declared.

"That's what I thought," I said, "I never realised our fathers would be so ..."

"Um ... understanding?" Mark finished. "Yeah, it feels really weird knowing my father knows that I'm banging Sue. He's not said anything to me though. So what homework you got?"

Mark and I were in the same grade at school, but did not share all the same classes, so we didn't always have the same homework. "I did all my homework during Religious Instruction," I told him, "How `bout you?"

"I just got a bit of Geography," Mark informed me.

"I think Frank likes Geography," I said, smirking at Frank. Frank realised instantly that I was referring to him getting a boner in class. He grabbed me and pulled me onto Mark's bed. We fell into an embrace, kissing.

Mark wrinkled his nose and turned his back to us as he sat at his desk, taking out his schoolwork. Mark worked on his homework while Frank and I worked on our tongue technique, with us now both prone on the bed, Frank lying on top of me with his hand down my pants as I fondled his balls up his trouser leg. Frank looked up as Mark took out his tin of colouring pencils. He jumped off the bed and walked across to Mark. "What you doing?" he asked Mark. Frank was extremely keen on drawing, and was a pretty talented artist for his age.

"I hafta copy this diagram of a volcano," answered Mark, showing Frank the illustration in his textbook.

"Can I do it for you please Mark?" begged Frank.

Mark knew how well Frank could draw. "Sure," he agreed, and vacated his seat so that Frank could take over. Mark came across and sat on the bed with me while Frank got busy with pencil and crayons, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration.

"So what's the red stuff in the drawing?" Frank asked after a while. Mark and I got up and stood behind him, either side of the chair. I could see that the picture Frank was drawing in Mark's exercise book was coming on really well – it looked better than the textbook illustration. Mark started explaining what a volcano was, and how it worked. I interjected at intervals embellishing Mark's explanation, and I took my geography book out of my satchel and showed Frank some photographs of erupting volcanoes that I had recalled it contained. Frank continued drawing, but asked us lots of questions, sounding really interested.

"I'm gonna like high school," Frank declared as he put a final few touches to his drawing. "Can I draw one of those photos as well?" He asked Mark, "I can draw a few people falling in to make it more interesting!"

"I don't think Mr. Clark would mind," Mark agreed, referring to our Geography teacher. Frank got busy, and Mark and I sat back on the bed. Suddenly the door opened and Mark's mum entered with a tray carrying two cups of tea for Mark and I and a glass of cordial for Frank. She took in the scene at a glance, and peered over Frank's shoulder.

"Now I can see why you want Frank with you!" she admonished smilingly. "That looks really good, Frank – I bet Mark will get a gold star!"

"Awww – you know we don't get stars in high school mum!" Mark said. "Frank asked if he could do it for me."

Frank's mother again went across and looked down at the work Frank was producing.

"Mark and Marty just told me how it works," Frank said to his mother enthusiastically, and proceeded to give her a surprisingly accurate lesson in volcanology.

"I was going to tell you to get to bed," his mother said to Frank, "But I think you're now old enough to stay up till Mark's bed time."

Frank was beaming. "Mum," he asked, "Could you make me a cup of tea as well please?"

She ruffled Frank's hair, "Why of course," she replied, "I'll make you one right now." As she left the room she gave Mark and I a big smile.

"I wasn't allowed to stay up late till I was thirteen!" Mark complained. Then he suddenly looked shocked, "Shit," he exclaimed, "Mum usually knocks before she comes in my room. I s'pose she figured that because all three of us were in here there was no need. What if you and Frank had been ... you know ..."

I suddenly went cold. It had indeed been a close call. I could see that I would have to be a lot more careful. Then I spotted something and pointed a shaky finger at Mark's desk. Standing proudly next to his pencil holder was the big red dildo! Mark sat with his mouth agape. Then Frank giggled. Suddenly we were all giggling uncontrollably. Whether Mark's mum had not noticed it at all, or whether she had seen it but not registered what it was amongst the other clutter we would always wonder. Mark got up and quickly hid the offending object out of sight before his mum came back with Frank's cup of tea. "Don't spoil it by getting up to mischief you three," she said, seeing us in fits of giggles, but she was smiling, and I saw she was looking at Frank particularly affectionately. Unseen by her, so was I.

Mr Clark was indeed highly impressed with Mark the next day.

 

Mark and I walked together after school back to Mark's house. Primary school finishes earlier than high school, and Frank was waiting for us when we arrived. Mark disappeared upstairs immediately, saying that he had to hurry to have a bath and change before Sue arrived. After Frank and I had given each other a quick hug and kiss, Frank looked at me somewhat awkwardly.

"Um ... Marts," he said, "Gary spoke to me at school today, and he was upset with me."

"Oh," I said with sudden understanding, "He must be feeling like I did with Mark. What did you tell him?"

"I said that mum was worried about my bad maths report," said Frank, "And that she was making me take extra lessons after school and that's why I couldn't see him so much."

I was pretty certain that Frank would not have made up such a story on the spur of the moment. I guessed he had been thinking of an explanation before Gary had actually tackled him about his absence.

"I felt really bad about Gary," Frank continued, "So I told him I would see him after school today. But I wanna be with you, Marts." He looked upset.

"Hmmm," I thought. "I'm not sure how we deal with this." I mused. "I really don't want Gary to be upset." I was beginning to understand what Mark's position had been. What I did not realise was that Frank had been about ten steps ahead of me all the time, the little bugger!

"I told Gary that I knew someone who would take us swimming," Frank said, "Gary's mum won't let him go unless there's someone older with us. So if you don't mind Marts, could we both go to Gary's place so his mum meets you, and then go swimming?"

On the way to Gary's place after stopping at mine to change and collect my swimming stuff, Frank's dropped another surprise.

"Umm ... and we're gonna pick someone else up on the way to the swimming bath," announced Frank, "But I ain't told Gary yet because I didn't know if he'd want to and I didn't want him to be able to say no." The devious little urchin!

"Who are we collecting?" I asked.

"It's a new boy at school in our class," said Frank, "He started two weeks ago, but he ain't got no friends `cos nobody wants to be with him `cos he's different – but I think Gary will like him if he gets to know him."

"What's different about him?" I asked, but we had arrived at Gary's house and Gary had just opened the door excitedly, so Frank couldn't talk.

I didn't know Gary's mum very well, but we knew each other by sight. She knew I was Frank's brother's friend and so had no concerns about me taking the two younger children swimming. She gave me some money for the entrance fee even though I assured her that I had enough for all of us, and fussed over Gary making sure he had his costume and towel, then kissed him goodbye. The three of us walked toward the swimming baths, Frank having said he wanted to go via the park, where I guessed he had arranged to meet the mysterious other party. "It's Marty who is teaching me maths," Frank lied to Gary.

"Oh," said Gary, "That explains why Sally saw you coming out of Marty's house yesterday. I was wondering. Is he a good teacher?"

"Oh YES!" said Frank, "Definitely!" I punched his arm when Gary wasn't looking.

"Hey Phil!" called Frank suddenly as we got to the park. Frank turned to Gary, "I told Phil he could come along," he announced, "'cos he's got no friends. Hope you don't mind?"

"Umm ... no of course not," said a surprised Gary, and I saw that his face had in fact lit up a little.

Phil trotted up to us, smiling apprehensively. He was obviously a similar age to Frank and Gary, being in the same class at school. He was slightly taller than Frank and Gary, but not by a lot. He was dressed in a jumper and grey shorts that were clean, but were a tad small for him and had seen far better days. His shoes had been polished as much as was possible, but were more worn than anything my parents would have allowed me to wear. I had had no real experience of poverty – everyone I knew had parents who were comfortably off like Frank's and mine. This was my first experience of its effects, and I was a bit puzzled as to why anyone would want to wear such threadbare clothing. Phil's dress was not however the first thing I noticed about him. The part of England we lived was, in those days, extremely parochial. Anyone who came from a town more than a hundred or so miles away would be regarded as a foreigner. Consequently that was the first time I had ever seen a black person, apart from on television and in magazines. Phil and his mother were, I later found out, the first people of African race to move to our English county.

Frank grinned up at my surprised expression. Phil however had seen the same look on my face and misconstrued what it meant. His smile disappeared and he cast his eyes to the ground. They started welling with tears. Gary of course saw Phil at school every day, and so was not at all taken aback by his appearance. I became confused, and then dismayed by Phil's reaction. I later discovered that Phil and his mother had moved because of a fair bit of nasty racist behaviour in the more Northern English city they had lived, and Phil had concluded just by my brief expression of surprise that I hated him. In fact I was neither a racist nor a non-racist, because I had absolutely no concept of the term. The idea that anyone might dislike a person because of their skin colour had simply never occurred to me. But Phil's bad experiences made him jump to what was for him an obvious conclusion.

Gary looked at me accusingly, and to my surprise rushed up to Phil and embraced him. Frank was also looking aghast. "Oh Phil," Frank said, "I'm sorry - that was my fault. I played a trick on Marty by not telling him you are from Africa, so he didn't know."

Phil looked up, "He wouldn't have wanted to meet me if he knew," Phil stated dejectedly as if a fact.

I stepped forward with a sob, picked Phil up, and surprised all of them by giving him a big kiss on his cheek, and rubbing his short peppercorn hair. "Don't talk bloody rubbish, Phil," I chided, hugging him to me, "You surprised me, that's all." He looked into my face, and I am sure he saw that I was sincere. He had typical African features. The whites of his eyes, still presently filled with tears, stood out in stark contrast to the flawless ebony skin around them. His nose was broad and flat, and he had full lips, which to me seemed sensual. I had a sudden but very brief desire to kiss them. His cheekbones were well defined, and despite my unfamiliarity with his race of people, I thought he was a handsome young lad.

I put him back down on his feet. "Do you know that you are the first guy I've ever met who comes from Africa, Philip? What's it like there?" I was imagining lions wandering across the back garden.

To my relief Phil smiled again, "I was born in Watford, actually," he said, "And `Phil' is short for `Philimon' not `Philip'." Frank and Gary burst out laughing at my stupid expression, and after a few seconds Phil joined in.

"Aren't I the bloody fool?" I asked rhetorically.

 

 

"Where are we going?" Phil asked as we resumed walking.

"We're all going swimming," replied Gary, puzzled, "Didn't Frank tell you?"

"No I didn't," Frank said, "That's was a surprise for Phil."

"But I ain't got a cozzie," protested Phil, "And it costs lots of money to get in."

"I brought you a spare cozzie and towel," Frank informed him, "And Marty will pay to get in, don't worry." Then Frank obviously thought of something he had not considered, "Um ... can you swim, Phil?" he asked, "If not don't worry `cos we can mess around in the shallow end."

"Yes, I can swim," Phil answered, "Gosh, thank you, I've not been swimming for ages!" I was pleased to see that he was now looking lively and happy.

It was about a fifteen minute walk to the baths, and on the way we all chatted with Phil and got to know each other. Phil lived alone with his mother in a council house. He had never met his father, and did not know who he was. His mother worked in a café until nine in the evening every day except Sunday when she worked until early afternoon, so Phil was by himself pretty much all the time, cooking his own food. Phil was also expected to keep the house clean and wash the clothes because his mother worked such long hours. They did not have a TV at home, and Phil had very few toys. Phil described his life as if it was perfectly normal, and Frank and I gave each other several meaningful glances. Frank had known that Phil could use a friend or two, but had had no idea how he lived.

"Would it be OK if you came back to my house for tea after we swim?" Gary asked Phil just before we got to the pool.

Phil's eyes lit up, and then he looked worried, "Wouldn't your mum mind?" he asked.

"'f course not," Gary assured him, "Mum don't mind me bringing any of my friends home for tea."

Phil looked puzzled, "Do you mean ... err ... are we friends, Gary?"

"Well yeah, I thought ...," Gary answered, then frowned, "Sorry, Phil, I didn't mean ... I mean only if you want to be my friend."

"Oh YEAH, `f course I do!" Phil answered forcefully. As we entered the door of the swimming bath, I saw that Gary and Phil were holding hands! Frank looked at the pair of them, then looked up at me and smiled contentedly.

As was the norm in those days, the swimming baths had two large communal changing rooms, one for men and the other for women. The individual changing cubicles that are found in most pools in the UK today were practically unknown. There was a low wooden bench along two walls of the changing room, and a row of showers along part of a third wall. The remaining wall held open boxes for people to leave their clothes and towels in – security was not considered to be necessary, possibly because in the days before mobile phones and portable music players, there was little of value that anyone brought to a swimming bath. The only cubical was at the end of the row of showers, and it contained a single toilet.

We four entered the empty changing room and headed for the far corner to change. Frank threw his spare swimming costume to Phil, and without further ado stripped off all his clothes. I was also undressing rapidly, but Phil and Gary were slow. Frank stood in front of the other two, completely naked holding his swimming costume. He made no move to put it on however as he urged the other two to hurry up. "Last one naked is a rotten egg!" he taunted.

I was soon standing next to Frank in my birthday suit, also making no effort to put on my costume. Phil looked at the two of us in surprise, and grinning at us redoubled his efforts to get undressed. I must admit that I had heard a few rumours regarding black men, and was quite keen to see what Phil had between his legs, though it was more curiosity than anything else. Gary decided to join in the race, and his clothing was soon flying off him. Gary and Phil pulled off their underpants at about the same time, and stood up facing each other, naked.

"Well, who was first?" Phil turned his head toward Frank and I.

"I'm not sure," I answered, "Did you see, Frank?"

"I think it was a tie," Frank answered. Nobody had made the slightest move to put on their costume.

Both Frank and I were looking at Phil's crotch. Phil's dick was developed more than Frank or Gary's, but was certainly not the huge thing the stories had told me I would see between the legs of a black guy. It was hanging flaccid, and was probably about two inches long in that state. His scrotum was hanging quite low, but I saw that his balls were not that large – probably smaller than Frank's in fact, though that could have been an illusion of scale. He was uncircumcised, and all his equipment was jet black. I was surprised that I could see only a very small sprinkling of pubic hair, but perhaps it was because they so closely matched his skin colour.

Having satisfied my curiosity about Phil, I glanced at Gary, and saw that he was gawking at Phil's dick, and unlike Frank or I, he was sporting a three inch erection! It was a fact that had not gone unnoticed by Phil, who was staring avidly at Gary's arousal. I then saw Phil's cock give a small twitch, and Phil quickly turned away from us and faced the wall.

"Hey Gary," Frank said with a giggle, "Your willy's stiff!"

Gary glanced down unconcerned, and gave it a tug with his hand. "Yes, it goes all funny like that sometimes," he said nonchalantly, "I dunno why."

"Oh, we'll have to explain it to you some time," declared Frank, "Anyway, I think Phil's got one as well now, that's why he turned away, isn't it Phil?" Frank said wickedly.

"Let's see yours Phil!" begged Garry excitedly.

Phil knew he had been caught out, and turned back to face Gary looking embarrassed, his penis now sticking up straight, probably about four inches long. In that state his balls were pulled up, and a small area of purple head was peeking through the tip of his foreskin, making a very marked contrast against his dark skin.

"Oh," I observed, "You're the same colour underneath as we are." Damn! I really had not intended to say that out loud!

"Am I?" Phil was no longer embarrassed as he saw that we were interested rather than concerned. "I've not seen anyone else's willy properly, so I don't know."

Gary reached down and pulled back his own foreskin, "I can't see under yours very well," he complained, and then reached his hand across and pushed Phil's foreskin back! "No, it's a little bit darker than mine," he decided, pushing his dick against Phil's dick to better compare, "It only looks light against your black skin. And I think your willy is even more black than the rest of you!" The way Gary was talking made it impossible to read any offensiveness whatsoever into his observations.

Seeing Gary do that made me bone up straight away, and I saw that the same had happened to Frank. "Looks like we are all in the same condition now!" I announced.

Gary and Phil looked across at us. Gary stared at mine. "Yours is huge," he said, "And you got hair round it."

Phil was grinning broadly. "You shouldn't touch my willy like that Gary," he admonished, "Marty and Frank will think you're wanking me off!"

"What's that mean?" asked Gary, puzzled.

"You know," said Phil, "When you rub it and `get the feeling' and shoot spunk." He then looked up at me, worried that I would disapprove of such talk. I smiled and winked at him to show I was OK with it.

"Huh?" frowned Gary, obviously not having a clue what he was talking about.

Just then we heard voices as a group of men headed toward the changing room from the pool area. We all quickly turned our backs to the entrance and scrambled to don our bathing suits.

"I'll tell you later," Phil whispered to Gary.

We ran out to the pool area, and all dived into the cold water together. We splashed and played, and Phil especially was having a whale of a time. Phil and Gary were spending most of the time with each other, and Frank and I frequently left them and watched them together from the side of the pool, commenting on how often they were finding reasons to touch each other with their hands, or rub up against each other with their bodies. "You seem to have been quite the matchmaker, you devious sod!" I remarked to Frank.

"I want Gary to be happy," said Frank, "But I also want to spend all the time I can with you. I saw at school that Gary and Mark would look at each other all the time, but I couldn't get them to talk to each other at school, because the other kids would look at them and they both got shy."

"Let's hope they get good enough friends that they stop caring what the other kids are looking at," I said, "Um – you realise that you are doing exactly what Mark did with us, don't you?"

"Of course. That's where I got the idea," Frank said.

It was not a particularly warm day, and while it made little difference to the temperature in the indoor swimming pool, swimming was not a popular activity on colder days, and there were very few other people in the pool. When an hour later I decided that we had better think about getting Gary and Frank back for their tea, we were sharing the pool with only four other people – three women and a young girl. Phil looked disappointed that we had to leave until Gary said, "Are you still coming back to my house for tea?"

As soon as I entered the changing room, I skinned off my costume and walked across to the showers. Phil was right behind and took the shower next to mine. Then Frank took off his costume and Phil looked in surprise as instead of taking a vacant showerhead, Frank got under the shower with me and started rinsing my chest down with his hands. Gary was behind Frank, and seeing what Frank was doing, he immediately joined Phil under his shower. I saw that Gary's penis was solidly erect, and Phil's had twitched and chubbed up somewhat immediately Gary joined him under the shower. Frank and I were by that time familiar enough with each other's bodies that we were still both soft.

Frank and I were standing slightly apart, stroking each other's chests under the guise of rinsing off the chlorine. Phil and Gary began doing the same to each other. I saw Phil's dick twitch again, and he got a pained expression on his face. I guessed that he was concentrating hard on other things to avoid getting an erection. Gary was of course completely ignorant of the implication of having an erection, and so remained blissfully unconcerned about his state, and was briefly grabbing it and pushing it down every now and then – which I don't think was helping Phil at all! Taking pity on Phil, I thought very briefly about the young lad in front of me as I caressed his chest, and my rod dutifully stood to attention. I nudged Frank and glanced down. Frank either got the message or was influenced by my state, and his shaft grew as well. Phil noticed our arousal almost immediately and looked at me, surprised. I shrugged and said, "It takes too much willpower to keep it down when I'm with anyone like this. I think most boys have the same problem." Phil smiled and nodded, and as his face relaxed I saw his ebony rod distend and grow in size.

"I see what you mean," grinned Phil. I grinned back at him.

Frank looked at me and jutted his chin quickly toward Phil and Gary. I nodded to him quickly. We were both of the same mind! I then moved my hands over Frank's shoulders and ran them down his back. Frank's shorter arms went around my waist, and he pulled me closer toward him. The change was not lost on Phil and Gary, and they copied what we were doing. After a few seconds of `cleaning' each other's backs, Frank stopped his hands at the base of my back and kept them still on the top of my buttocks. I ran my hands down Frank's body and held him in the same way. Phil and Gary were still slowly stroking each other's backs, but both were watching Frank and I as we held each other still in a loose embrace. Frank pulled me gently toward him, and my stiff shaft touched his belly. I moved my hands down and cupped Frank's bum, and he stood on tip-toe as I lifted him slightly so his cock pushed in between my scrotum and upper thigh. The showerheads were closely spaced and I was near enough to hear Phil gasp over the noise of the splashing water. Phil looked at Gary and, holding his bum, pulled him toward him. Being more equal in height, Gary's shaft squeezed up against Phil's longer rod. Gary took his eyes off us, and stared into Phil's eyes as he grabbed his buttocks and pulled him tighter into him. Gary's bum clenched instinctively. Phil moved his face close to Gary's, and their lips brushed. I could see Gary's chest heave as he breathed in deeply. His eyes closed and he pressed his closed lips against Phil's mouth.

Phil squeezed Gary's bum again, and Gary again clenched, pushing his hips forward. Gary was completely lost in his own World now, his eyes closed and his hands running all over Phil's bottom as he sought a release he did not yet understand, and began humping slowly against Phil. Frank started rubbing himself against me, but I bent to put my mouth close to his ear and whispered, "No sweetheart, this is their time now." Frank nodded in understanding. "Besides," I added in a whisper, "You make far too much noise!" Frank grinned up at me.

Phil looked at me in alarm as he heard Frank's quiet chuckle, realising that it was obvious what Gary and he were doing right in front of us. Smiling, I leant across so my mouth was close to his ear, and whispered, "Teach him, Phil, he needs you to show him how."

Reassured, Phil moved his arms up around Gary's back, hugging him tight with the side of his face pressed against Gary's cheek, and began thrusting his hips. Gary moved his arms up to hug back, and began humping faster, his eyes still closed.

Phil abruptly stepped back and moved his hand quickly to Gary's straining small cock and began wanking him. He looked at me as if for permission, and I smiled and nodded encouragingly. Gary opened his eyes and gasped, suddenly looking up at Frank and I apprehensively. "It's alright, Gary," Frank assured him quietly as I smiled at him in agreement. Phil had stopped moving his hand as Gary became alarmed, but as Frank nodded and Gary looked into Phil's face and then closed his eyes once more, Phil began sliding Gary's foreskin slowly up and down again.

I realised that Frank had never reached climax whilst standing up. I bent close to Frank and instructed him quietly, "Get behind Gary," I said, "His legs are gonna get weak soon and you might need to hold him up."

Frank moved round behind Gary, and I stationed myself behind Phil, though I thought Phil was probably experienced enough to cope on his own. Frank gently took Gary's right wrist and moved it towards Phil's cock. As Gary's hand touched Phil, he understood what was required, grasped Phil's rod in his fist and began copying what Phil was doing to him. I heard Phil moan, "Oh yes," as he thrust into Gary's hand. Feeling Phil's thrust, Gary began moving his hips strongly as well, and Frank reached his arms around Gary's chest from behind, holding him steady. Phil had now bent his legs at the knees, and I took his weight in my arms also. Phil seemed to sense Gary's needs, and was wanking him much faster now. Gary was breathing in sharp breaths, and his bum was clenching madly. Frank was now supporting almost his entire body weight. I knew that Gary would not last much longer, and I was correct. Frank whispered something in his ear and I saw Gary nod in understanding, and then a look of total astonishment came over his face. He grunted, "Oof, oof, oof" and bucked his hips strongly, then completely collapsed as Frank lowered him gently to the floor of the shower where he lay, exhausted. If anything had come out of him, it had been undetectable in the water from the shower.

Having cum for the first time in his nearly twelve year life, Gary was completely out of it now, staring up contentedly at Frank who was kneeling beside him, smiling down at his red face. I realised that Gary's collapse had left Phil on the very brink but unsatisfied. Holding Phil's weight with my left arm under his ribcage, I reached around with my right hand and grasped Phil's rod to complete the job. As my hand ran rapidly up and down his shaft, I felt how large his head had become under his tight foreskin. Almost as soon as I touched it, Phil's cock jerked strongly and three milky white jets erupted from him and landed on Gary's chest below. Then Phil also buckled up completely and I lowered him next to Gary on the cement floor. I gently wiped away the couple of dribbles of cloudy milk that clung to Phil's foreskin with my fingers, and Frank cleaned off Gary in the running water.

Gary sat up as Frank was finishing his cleaning work. "What just happened?" he asked in amazement.

Frank chuckled, "That's what I was like after my first time, Gary!"

Phil was taking notice once again and I smiled into his eyes, "You've just made someone really happy, I think." I stated.

Phil smiled broadly and looked toward Gary with a soppy expression on his face, "That was different ... better than any other time," he said wondrously.

Predictably Gary had many questions as we walked back to his house, which were answered by Phil, Frank or myself - or sometimes all of us at once. This time I made certain that the two of them knew that the episode was not to be mentioned outside the four of us. So much for my vow to be more careful!

"Hey," I overheard Phil saying to Frank musingly as we got close to Gary's house, "My last report was not very good. Perhaps Gary and me could have some lessons with you and Marty sometime?"

"Hmmm," I heard Frank reply, "That might be fun. I'll ask Marty. But not too often ..."

 

 

"Hi mum!" Gary called as we all clattered through his back door, "I've brought my new friend home for tea, OK?"

Gary's mother came down the stairs and into the kitchen where we had congregated. She saw Phil standing next to her grinning son. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, momentarily flustered, then quickly composed herself. "Yes of course that alright, dear. Pleased to meet you ... I'm Gary's mum," she added unnecessarily.

Phil was more prepared to see a reaction that was simply surprised, and this time he did not immediately assume any hostility, but was nevertheless looking at her apprehensively. "I'm Phil," he replied, holding out his hand for her to shake, "I'm pleased to meet you, Gary said you wouldn't mind, but I can get some tea at home if you would prefer."

"Oh don't be silly," Gary's mother assured him, "You lot go and sit down in the dining room, tea is almost ready, and there is enough for all of you if you'd like to stay as well?" She addressed the last question to Frank and I. "You could call your parents and let them know you'll have tea here?" she suggested.

Frank and I looked at each other. Frank gave a small shrug and nodded to me questionly. I nodded back, "That would be very kind, Mrs. Wheeler, Frank can phone Mark to tell his mum when she gets back from work, and I could phone later after my mum gets home."

Frank went off to use the phone and we all trooped into the dining room. Gary's mother turned to Phil, "Do you need to call your parents?" she asked.

"No," replied Phil, "Mum doesn't finish work till nine. We don't have a phone in any case."

Mrs. Wheeler then noticed the state of Phil's clothing, and again appeared to get flustered. "Oh my," she said again, quietly, and went to prepare the food in the kitchen.

Frank joined us and confirmed that he had spoken with Mark. Then Gary's mum started bringing in the plates of food for tea. Phil looked at Gary, surprised. "Is it your birthday, Gary?" he asked.

"No," said Gary, "That's not for another three months. "Why?"

"You didn't tell me you were having a party," explained Phil, "What's it for?"

"What are you talking about?" said Gary, puzzled, "We're not having a party!"

"But this food!" said Phil, "It's for special occasions! You even have fruit and jelly!"

"It's just tea," said Gary, "We often have jelly for afters, don't you?"

Gary's mother had been listening, and she bustled up to the table. "Not everyone has a big tea, Gary," she said, "Some people only have biscuits or sandwiches." She then turned to Phil, "I'm pleased to see that Gary has made a new friend," she said, "So when did you move to the area?"

While we ate, Gary's mother chatted away to Phil, telling him all sorts of things about Gary, but I noticed always asking for information in return. She learned all of the things that Phil had told us about himself on the way to the swimming baths, and a lot more besides. We learned that while Phil had indeed been born in Watford and lived in England all his life, his mother had been born in Uganda. Phil did not know any of the details, but it seems that his mother's parents could not afford to feed their large family, and there had been some sort of arrangement whereby she went to live with an important Ugandan official. He moved to the UK to work in the Ugandan embassy in London when she was about 8 years old, and he brought her with him. For some reason he left to return to Uganda just before Phil was born, and she was left behind in the UK. Phil has no relatives in the UK apart from his mother, who had raised him completely by herself.

After we had eaten, Phil insisted, against Mrs. Wheelers protests, in helping her clear the table and wash up. Feeling guilty, I also went to the kitchen to at least give the appearance that I was helping as well. Gary's mother was praising up Phil no end about how polite and helpful he was. "I am so pleased you have made friends with Gary," she told him, "I think you will teach him to be more responsible – you are very grown up, young man!"

"I'm only a month older than Gary," protested Phil, "I'll be 12 in two month's time. Then I'll be exactly half the age of my mum!"

I think it must take Gary's mother around two seconds to work out a simple mental arithmetic problem. At least that was the period of time between Phil's offhand observation and the crash of the plate Mrs. Wheeler had been drying as it shattered on the kitchen floor.

Gary's father arrived home just as Phil was sweeping up the broken pieces of plate for Mrs. Wheeler. It reminded me that my own parents would be home, and I asked to use the phone to call them. While I was telling Mum that I had had tea and would be home much later after seeing Mark, I saw that Mrs. Wheeler had bustled her husband into the living room, and from my vantage point at the phone I could see her in animated conversation with him.

"Hey you two," he said to Frank and I a short while later when we were all back in the dining room, "I'm going to see Jack – er – Frank's dad if you want a lift back? We said our goodbyes and were soon with Mark and his parents after the very short drive.

I was surprised to see that Sue was also with Mark, apparently having stayed for tea at Mark's house. Frank's mother was on the telephone when we arrived. Gary's dad took Mark's dad into the kitchen, and I could hear a quiet but intense conversation taking place. They both then left in Gary's dad's car, and as they went out the door I heard Mark's mother say, "Good luck."

Mark's mother then thanked me for taking Frank and Gary swimming, saying she had just been on the phone with Gary's mum, so knew all about it. She then asked us about Phil, and we told her all about the day – leaving out a few of the activities of course. When she heard that befriending Phil had all been Frank's idea, she said, "You sometimes make me so proud, Frankie." And then she burst into tears and ran upstairs! Mark dashed up after her, asking her why she was upset, and she told him she was not upset at all, but was very happy. Females are a very strange species! Mark and Sue questioned Frankie and I in more detail, and we all commented on what a crap life Phil must have.

Sue then said, "Thanks for that red thing, Marty."

"Oh," I replied, "Does it work OK?"

Mark and Sue burst out laughing. "It certainly does!" Sue affirmed.

When she came back downstairs, Mark's mum had a large box of clothes. "Could you go through these and see if there is anything you want to keep?" she asked Mark.

Mark looked in the box, bewildered. "These are all my old clothes," he said, "They are years old, why did you keep them?"

"I was keeping them in case Frankie might want any of them," his mother explained, "They will fit him in another 6 months or so, but I doubt that Frankie would want your hand-me-downs, so I kept meaning to throw them out. But now I just thought they might fit Phil, seeing that Gary's mum says he's a bit taller than Frankie. Some of them are things you never wore."

"I should have thought of that," Frank chided himself.

As Frank (rather than Mark) was going through the clothes, commenting on the ones he thought Phil would like best, the door banged open and Mark's father stormed in, seething with anger. He went straight to the phone, slamming the door behind him. "Fucking arsehole," he cursed.

We had all cowered back as he stormed through, and Mark and Frank looked astonished. Frank began to cry. "I didn't know dad swore," said Mark incredulously.

"He doesn't" said his mother. "Frankie, don't cry, your dad is not cross with any of us. He'll calm down soon." She then said, "God I have never, ever seen him so angry!"

We could hear only a few scraps of the conversation. Mark's dad seemed to be talking about road safety at some point, because he was saying something about a child and traffic, but it didn't make any sense to me.

Fifteen minutes later Mark's dad came into the room, considerably calmer. "Mr. Wheeler was right," he said to Mark's mum, "But I've just had a chat with Jim, and it's going to be completely sorted. I'll pop out and tell them the news."

"Who's `Jim' dad?" asked Mark.

"Jim Callaghan," his father replied going to the door, "He works with me. You've not met him. He owes me a few favours."

Mark's dad went out to the road, where I saw Gary's dad's car was parked. He spoke through the window for a few seconds, and two people got out of the car and came to the house. One was Gary's dad, and the other was a tall young African woman.

"This is Rosie," Mark's dad introduced the black woman, "She is Phil's mother."

"Hello, very nice to meet you," I said to her, "Um – I thought you worked late?"

"Not any more," Mark's dad said bitterly, "She's just been fired. But not to worry because we are about to sort that out – and a few other things."

I then saw that Rosie had been crying. Mark's mother had been on the phone again, and came in the room and introduced herself, then went out to make cups of tea. "Do you want tea or cordial, Frankie?" she called.

"Tea please mum," answered Frank.

"You kids go upstairs while we sort a few things out," asked Mark's dad.

Marks mother came in the room. "Jack, I think they should stay and hear what's going on. After all, if it hadn't been for Frankie ..."

"What's going on, dad?" Frank asked, "Why is Phil's mum here?" Frank looked worried.

Mark's dad replied, "It's all OK, Frankie. Gary's mum figured out that Rosie has had a ... difficult life, and probably needed a break."

"So she told me," Mr. Wheeler took over, "And I decided to speak with your dad, because he works for the government and might know what to do."

I hadn't known what Frank's dad did for a living.

"We didn't know exactly what the situation was, though," continued Mark's dad, "So we decided to go to the café that Phil said his mother worked, and have a chat with her."

"We just went in and ordered some coffee at first," Gary's dad said, "Rosie was our waitress and we guessed she must be Phil's mother. We just watched her for a while. You work exceptionally hard," he said to Rosie.

"The owner of the café is a fat barst ...um ... gentleman, and he was treating Rosie worse than dirt," Mark's dad's jaws were clenched and his face had gone dark at the memory. "We managed to get Rosie to chat with us and we managed to convince her eventually that we were friends. She told us about her life – and that part I am not going to tell you. Rosie does not want Phil to know and I don't blame her."

Rosie was looking down, clearly distressed.

"The big problem was, and it was not at all Rosie's fault, but she is not allowed to live in England."

"What? – Why ever not?" Sue cut in.

"She never had permission to come from Uganda to live here," Mark's dad explained, "But she was only a young child at the time so it was not her doing at all. That meant that she could not get a proper job, and had to work illegally. The people who employ illegal immigrants pay very, very little money, and Rosie has had to work extremely hard just to afford food for her and Phil. She is an exceptional person to have raised a child in such circumstances – and has done an extremely good job of it if I understand correctly from Gary's mother"

"And Phil?" I asked.

"It's a bit more complicated with Phil," Mark's dad replied, "Because he was born here, but under the current laws he is also not permitted to stay."

"NO!," shouted Frankie, "He can't be sent to Ooboogoo!"

"It's Uganda," Frank's dad corrected, "But you are quite correct, son. Rosie has lived here most of her life, and Phil for all of his life, and it would be completely wrong to deport either of them now. But I cannot permit them to stay here illegally. Not only is it against the law, but it has made Phil's life a complete Hell. So I have arranged for them to be made citizens of the United Kindom"

"I still don't understand how you can do that," Rosie said, "It is just too good to be true, and I stopped believing in miracles – well in fact I have never believed in miracles." She finished.

"I am reasonably certain that if you were to apply via the normal channels an application for residence and then citizenship would be treated favourably under the circumstances," Mark's dad told her, "But I understand why you distrusted that process and decided not to take the gamble. However, I can assure you that I am in a position to arrange such things quite a bit more expeditiously than the normal channels allow when I believe it is necessary. And I can also assure you that there are going to be certain other wheels set in motion – though they need not concern you." He had a hard, determined expression.

"So why did you get fired?" Frank then asked Rosie.

"Your father became very angry with my boss," said Rosie, "And he fired me."

"In fact," said Mr. Wheeler, "The café owner first berated Rosie in a highly offensive way for chatting to us, your dad objected to his language, the café owner approached your father rather aggressively, and your father punched the café owner in what I thought was a most satisfactory manner!"

"What?" shrieked Mark's mother, "Jack, you didn't!"

"He hit him right in the nose!" Rosie said with a very satisfied smile on her face, "He was knocked down cold – there was blood everywhere – his nose is certainly broken!"

Gary's dad chuckled heartily, "And I thought that what you suggested he do with his café, Jack, was very imaginative," he added, "Anatomically impossible, of course, but highly original."

Frank was looking completely awestruck, and was smiling proudly at his father. His mother on the other hand was looking horrified.

"Now," said Gary's dad, "It appears that you are back in the labour market Rosie, and seeing that I am quite certain that you will soon have all the necessary documents, I was wondering whether I could offer you a position in my company? We are looking for young ladies to train to do typing and other secretarial work, nothing particularly exotic, I'm afraid. The hours will be Monday to Friday, 9 to 4, so Phil would only have to look after himself for an hour or two after school. You will get a qualification and experience that should secure a hard-working woman such as yourself a pretty good position in a year or two"

"I would love that," Rosie said, "But I really need more hours than that, the rent is very high."

"Your rent is indeed high," interrupted Mark's dad, "That's because you are illegally subletting a council house from a person who thinks you cannot complain – I believe the same person who suffered a broken nose recently, in fact. From tomorrow however you will be renting the same property completely legally directly from the council, and you will find their rent is a bit more reasonable."

"Even so," said Rosie, "I'm not sure we could get by on those hours."

"Well," said Gary's father, "Our weekly starting wage for the position is ..."

He named a figure. The cup slipped from Rosie's hand and smashed on the table. It was obviously a bad day for crockery.

After some more talk regarding a few practical details, Gary's dad suggested that he run Rosie home in the car, picking Phil up along the way.

"Oh," Mark's mum piped up, "Mrs. Wheeler said that Phil would like to stay at their house tonight if it was OK with you, Rosie."

"I think we have imposed on you people quite enough," said Rosie, "Besides he needs some clean clothes for school tomorrow"

Gary's dad said, "Rosie, from what I can gather it was my son's idea, and so it is no imposition whatsoever – Phil can sleep on the camp bed in Gary's room, it will be no extra work for us whatsoever.

"And I have some clothes that I was wondering if Phil would like here," Frank's mum added, "So he can take what he wants from those in the morning if you drop them around on the way."

Rosie looked around as all of us, and burst into tears.

 

I announced that I had better get home, and said sotto-voice to Frank, "I bet that camp bed doesn't get used much!"

Sue said she had to go as well, and as we left Frank's house, she said she would walk home with me as she lived only a short distance away from my house. I offered to walk her to her house first, but she declined.

When we reached my house Sue walked up the path with me to my front door, and said to me, "Marty, I'm gonna say hello to your mum and dad. Call me "Sarah" instead of `Sue' and just play along with me, OK?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Never mind – just do it!" Sue insisted.

I opened the door as usual and shouted, "Hi." Sue also shouted a greeting. That brought mum and dad out of the living room like a bolt! "You must be Marty's mum and dad," Sue announced. "I'm Sarah, I expect Marty has told you about me?" I realised that Sue had grabbed my hand and was holding it conspicuously.

"Well, err ..." began mum

"Yes, of course Sarah," said my father quickly. "Please come in!" I saw him nudge mum. "You remember Marty telling us about his new friend Sarah?".

"Yes of course, Sarah," said my mother, "Come in and sit down. Do you drink tea?"

"Just a quick cup, thank you very much," answered Sue, "I have to be home soon."

Sue pushed me toward the sofa as we entered the living room, and sat close, pushing her body into mine and holding my hand on her lap. My mother entered and dished out cups of tea, and then sat on the vacant armchair. My father was on the other armchair, Sue and I were scrunched up in the corner of the sofa.

"I want to apologise for yesterday," Sue said, "It was my fault that Marty filled the bath too full." She looked lovingly into my face and added, "I guess he didn't realise that the water would come up more with two people in the bath."

My mother suddenly spat her tea over the carpet. Dad seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh.

"It really is lovely to meet Marty's parents at last." Sue started stroking my hair. "You must invite me to meet your mum again when I have more time, sweetheart," Sue continued, and she pulled my hand over her breast, "We can compare notes to see whether Marty takes after his dad," She said to mum. Mum seemed to have developed a problem breathing. "Anyway," she said, draining her cup, "I am really sorry this has to be such a quick visit." Then she rubbed her hand over my inner thigh and said, "I hope you won't get too lonely tonight, sweetheart" as she stood to leave.

My father showed her to the door, because mother did not seem to be able to stand up.

"Be a gentleman and walk Sarah home, Marty," my dad called to me as he was opening the door for Sue.

"Thank you so much for that naughty red thing," Sue said to him quietly. "I hope they don't wear out too quickly!"

As soon as we were out of earshot, Sue said, "I don't think your mum is going to be pestering you to bring me to see her any more, Marty."

 

To be continued ...

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