Date: Fri, 7 Apr 2006 20:59:42 +0100 (BST) From: Veneration Subject: Empty vessel part 4 Your feedback is much appreciated and any comments are welcome. Send to veneration2003@yahoo.co.uk EMPTY VESSEL BY VENERATION PART 4 CHAPTER 17 The air is hot, humid, still. Thunderstorms threaten, but they would bring the relief of coolness along with the rain. The pedestrians on Beresford High Street gasp and complain about the weather, and earnestly discuss their varying favourite weather forecasters' predictions about what's to come. Yardley's bookshop is only a few degrees cooler than outside, but the quiet hush and relative dimness of the light makes it seem a haven from the oppressive atmosphere outside. Roger looks up from the counter at the sound of the bell over the door and sees Zack approach him. Zack's oval face under his short fringe of brown hair is pleasant, rather than beautiful, but his broad smile transforms it, making it almost luminous. Zack wears navy blue shorts, a light grey T and oversize trainers below slender ankles. They greet each other and exchange those commonplace pleasantries that are a normal part of social discourse. Roger has long since learnt the rules of social greetings, acknowledges that they are trivial and banal, but realises their value in getting along with others. Zack struggles a little with the social niceties of adults, in common with most teens, but willingly follows Roger's lead and in so doing, starts to learn. "I loved 'Jack of Shadows'," Zack says, "it was wicked." "Good. I thought you might enjoy it," Roger replies. "Yeah, the way that Jack can use shadows is so cool. The only thing is, at the end when he falls, will he be caught?" "Who knows," Roger shrugs. "Well I want to know. Why don't . . . er, . . um, the author just say if Jack's saved." Zack's frustration shows as he speaks. "That's why its such a clever ending. It's not actually important for the story, but makes the ending memorable, to leave the reader hanging in the air." Zack laughs. "So to speak." Roger grins back at the boy. "Yes, so to speak. Have you started reading 'Lord of the Rings' yet?" "No, it's still out on loan. I was just wond'ring, if you had another book you could suggest I read?" "Another book by Zelazny?" "Well, I would like to read more of his books some time," Zack replies, "but I think I would like to try something different now." Roger regards the teen thoughtfully. "Does that means something completely different?" Zack frowns a little. "Like what? You aren't going to sell me somethin' really weird, are you?" "Of course not," Roger chuckles, "I wouldn't do that to you. I was thinking of some hard Sci-Fi, such as Larry Niven's 'Ringworld'. It's also a pretty good adventure story" "That sounds cool," Zack agrees. Roger goes to the N section of the bookshelves to collect a copy of 'Ringworld', with Zack following him. He points out the other Niven books Zack could try if he likes the author and they complete the purchase. There is an awkward pause as Zack stands with the wrapped book in his hand. With book bought, he has no more business in the shop and so he should leave, but he appears reluctant to do so. Equally, Roger will be sorry to see Zack go, although he expects to see the boy back in the shop in the future. "Um, . . . Roger? D'you know Sam and Trevor, from school?" "I don't know about 'from school', but I do know a Sam and Trevor. They are about your age, with dark hair and brown eyes, good-looking boys." "Er, yes." Zack blushes slightly. "I was just talking to them the other day and they said they know you. They said they visit you at home." "Yes, that's right." Roger speaks calmly, but wonders how widely the two teens discuss their visits. It's not something Roger has thought about, but he's not sure how comfortable he is with everyone knowing about his friendship with Sam and Trevor. Society can be suspicious about the most innocent friendships between men and boys, and it's even harder when there are grounds for those suspicions. "Well, um . . ., they also said I could visit with them sometime?" "I would be very pleased to see you at home," Roger says. "You might also find it easier on your wallet than having to buy a book every time we see each other. Though I do have some old books at home I wouldn't mind getting rid of, that I could sell to you." Zack laughs. "You are also very welcome to visit anytime on your own, you know. You don't have to come with Sam and Trevor." Zack smiles shyly. "I would like that." "I didn't know that you are good friends with Sam and Trevor?" "No, I'm not. I know who they are of course, I see them round school. We talked when they helped out once when I was getting hassled, but I don't usually have anything to do with them." "Uncouth youth? Rough ruffians?" Roger suggests. Zach grins. "Yeah." "They're OK when you get to know them. They are nice boys underneath." "I suppose." Zack doesn't look convinced, but he's not about to argue about it. "Um . . ." The teen hesitates. "Yes?" "Oh, nothing." The conversation has gone as far as Zack is prepared to take it and he decides not to continue with what else Trevor had said. "Anyway, I gotta go." Roger and Zack make their farewells and, after the boy leaves the shop, Roger's gaze lingers on the door as he thinks about their encounter. Zack is a sweet, somewhat hesitant and vulnerable lad, rather out of place in the rough neighbourhood in which he lives. Roger hopes that Zack can survive the local hoods as he grows up, until he can make his escape to a more sympathetic world. . o O 0 O o . CHAPTER 18 The boys perch on swings in the playground of Beaumont Park and gently rock back and forward as they snack on chips and fizzy drinks. The gentle breeze is cool and there are no clouds, but only a few of the brightest stars can be seen in the night sky. The sky glows in the direction of the centre of the city and there is a constant low background hum of city noise. The friends linger in the park as they don't feel free to visit each other's homes, but are not yet ready to separate and go to bed. "That was so cool, it was extreme," Sam says. He slurps down the last of his soft drink and drop kicks the empty can into the dark. "Yeah, welcome to the Rock," Trevor replies as he screws up the empty chips wrapping paper and tosses it over his shoulder. "Only one man has ever broken out. Now five million lives depend on two men breaking in." Sam intones. "Alcatraz must be the hardest prison in the world to get outta. Like, ya get over the walls an' yer in the harbour, an' the water's freezin', an' yer gotta swim fer miles." "Yeah. A few guys have escaped, but they niver seen again, prob'ly swept out to sea an' drown'd," Sam replies with deep satisfaction at the thought. "I can b'lieve Sean Connery escapin', though," Trevor says. " He's gettin' old 'n all, but he's still cool." "Well, he is a Brit." Trevor nods in agreement. "Wouldn't mind a hunnerd mill, though. The stuff I could do with that." "Yeah, but it's kinda shame General Hummel din't fire off the rocket." Sam's eyes sparkle at the thought. "Thousands a people dropping like flies, bodies all over the street, all twitchin' an twistin' 'n stuff with the nerve gas." "Yeah, an' cars with dying drivers ploughing into little old ladies with walking frames, and . . . an' babies in prams rollin' down the hill an goin' cross intersections, and . . . crash!, it hits a car comin' the other way, and . . . " Trevor pauses for breath as his imagination tries to catch up with his mouth. Sam laughs. "I'm cocked, locked and ready to rock," he quotes. "I'm fed up saving your ass. I'm amazed you made it past puberty," Trevor quotes back at him. Sam laughs and throws his screwed-up chips paper at Trevor, who bats it away. "Yeah, I'm glad the flicks brung it back, so we c'n see it on the big screen, even though it's years old, 'cos it still rocks," Sam says. The two youths grin at each other, then settle into silence as they gently sway on the swings. "Have ya been ta see Roger again?" Trevor asks. Sam glances at his friend and then gazes ahead into the distance. He had wondered when this would come up. "Yeah." "An' did he try it on?" Sam thinks about his answer, then he grins as he thinks that this will sure get Trev's knickers in a twist. "Not him, no." "What d'ya mean?" "It were me as made a pass at 'im." Trevor looks over at the other boy in shock. "Ya niver!" he exclaims. Sam shrugs and grins at Trevor. "An' did it happen, ya had sex with him?" Trevor asks. "Shore." "But that's so queer." While Trevor remembers their previous disturbing conversation on the topic, he had never thought that Sam would take it any further. "So?" Sam replies. "When wos the las' time youse had a blow job?" "Ya niver? Wow! What was it like?" "It were outta this world," Sam replies. "Ya know, the thing was, Roger got me so hot I was about jumpin' outta me skin. Trevor shifts uncomfortably and adjusts his pants to make room for his dick that has suddenly gone rock hard. "So, did he stick it up yer bum?" Sam notices Trevor tweaking his crotch. 'Gotcha,' he thinks, 'that got ya stirred up.' "Not his dork, no." "Huh? Wot d'ya mean? What else?" "Well, first he stuck his finger up me arse, then he tongued me hole," Sam explains. Trevor screws up face in disgust. "Yeech, that's gross." "Yeah, it is, but ya know, it felt amazing, like ya wouldn't believe." "No way." Trevor is disbelieving. "Yes way," Sam insists. "Ya know how good it can feel back there when youse have a really good shit an' push out a big fat turd . . ." "Don't be disgustin', man. I do NOT want to hear this." "Well, it's even better," Sam explains. "Yor sick." Trevor imagines Sam and Roger naked, doing the dirty. His hard-on throbs, his face flushes and his mouth goes dry. "So, are yer goin' back?" "Too fucken right." "But he might want to do other stuff," Trevor says. Sam is complacent. "Whatever, it's all good." "He might want ta, you know . . . , fuck ya." "Just like a big turd," Sam says. "Stop. I'm not listening to this." Trevor holds his hands over his ears and shakes his head. He looks over at Sam speculatively as he drops his hands into his lap and starts to massage his stiffie. Sam laughs at managing to gross out his friend. It doesn't happen too often, but he's a master at this and he's pleased he can still do it. A car, vibrating with a bass beat and laden with lager louts, pulls up in the parking lot. A beer bottle is tossed out of a window and smashes against the ground. "Betta split," Trevor murmurs and the friends fade into the dark. . o O 0 O o . CHAPTER 19 "Hello," Roger answers the intercom. "Hey, Rog." "Oh, hi Sam." Roger releases the building door and a few minutes later Sam barges into the flat with his younger brother in tow. Sam walks up to the man, briefly bumps against his arm, back of hand brushing back of hand, and wanders away again. "Hello Bill, it's nice to see you again," Roger greets the boy, who has already started to shrug out of his clothes. " 'Lo," he replies with a wide smile that quickly disappears inside his T-shirt. "Bill's stayin' with us ternite," Sam announces. He pauses and reflects on what he has just said. "Um, is that OK? I mean fer both Bill and me ta stay?" "Yes, I would love to have both of you stay with me." "Good." Sam is relieved. "Ma's new boyfriend likes to hit us when he's drunk, which is 'bout ev'ry weekend. It don't matter about me, but Bill's too little for that shit." "Then you must stay. There's no excuse for that behaviour." Roger is stern and already hates the boyfriend. "Well, I dus get on 'is wick," Sam acknowledges, "an' Bill can be a real brat sometimes." "Oh, I don't know," Roger disagrees. "I think Bill's a little sweetheart." He looks over at the boy, who is standing in the centre of the disaster zone that is the debris of his clothes scattered over the floor. Bill, snub nosed, with mop of dark hair and dark brown eyes, wears only his undies, tattered and stained yellow in front. Roger holds out his arms and Bill happily patters over for a hug. The boy has a rank smell that assails Roger's nostrils and makes him recoil. "Whew, you smell a bit whiffy. How many days have you worn those underpants?" Bill shrugs. "Dunno." "Well, how about I wash your clothes, and you can have a shower as well." Bill smiles and nods in agreement. "I can find something for you to wear while your undies are in the wash, if you like," Roger offers. "Nah." Bill pulls off his briefs, unconcerned that his willy is on display for all to see. "Right, lets go and get you a towel," Roger continues, "then I'll put your clothes in the wash." "I c'n do it," Sam offers. Sam is old enough to develop some pride in his appearance and had to learn to do the laundry when his own clothes went unwashed for too long. Having to wear filthy tattered clothes at school would be too humiliating to bear. Sam has learnt to fend for himself and so had just assumed that Bill could do the same. He had not had the empathy to realise that his younger brother is a rather neglected little boy. But now, with his association with Roger, Sam was starting to become more aware of the people around him. "Thanks, Sam, that will be very helpful," Roger says. After sorting out Bill and his shower, Roger returns downstairs and sits on the sofa. Sam emerges from the kitchen and sits besides Roger. His knees splay out, so that one knee touches Roger's leg, and he rests a hand on the man's thigh. "Is everything under control?" Roger asks. "Shore." Roger is concerned about Sam and Bill's family life and the effect it might have on them. "Does your mother have lots of boyfriends?" Sam shrugs. "Yeah, I s'pose." "You know, I don't like the idea of you and Bill being mistreated. Are they all like the current boyfriend, or are some OK?" "They're all wankers, but it makes no difference to me. They's losers an' they don't last long. Just forgeddit, OK?" Sam is dismissive. In the typical male teen habit of avoiding discussion of those emotional matters that are most important, Sam can't see his home life changing and he doesn't want to talk about it. He removes his hand from Roger's leg and drops it into his own lap. Roger reluctantly accepts that this one part of his young friend's life that he can do little about and changes the subject. "I suppose you are staying in the spare bedroom with Bill tonight?" A slow wide smile spreads over Sam's face and he stretches luxuriously. "Fer a while, . . . 'til he's asleep. Then . . ." He gropes Roger's crotch in promise of what was to come later that night. Bill returns from his shower, naked, clean, still damp after his slap-dash ineffective attempt to dry himself. He stands in front of Roger and Sam, sitting cosily together on the sofa. Bill frowns at what he sees as he feels a little left out, so suddenly and without warning he jumps on top of them. "Oof," Roger grunts at the weight and sharp elbows that jab him uncomfortably. "You little monster," he complains and he tickles the boy's ribs. "Nooo," Bill objects with a giggle as he squirms at the touch. Sam laughs and joins in the fun. Bill shrieks with laughter as he writhes at the assault. He twists around until he is lying on his belly in an attempt to protect himself from the tickles. Sam takes this as an invitation to spank his bum, so Bill twists onto his back again, panting with laughter and exertion. Eventually Roger and Sam relent from their torture of the little boy and Bill subsides into soft giggles. He is stretched over Roger and Sam's legs, with his head on the sofa. With his back arched, Bill's ribs are clearly visible and his wee willy, soft as it is, juts into the air. Roger rests a hand on the boy's chest and gently strokes it. Sam regards his brother's dickie bird, which he had seen all of his life but never thought anything of, and gives it a little tweak. "Rudey nudey boy," Sam says fondly. Just as the puppy, who rolls onto his back, expresses his trust in the master he loves by exposing the most vulnerable part of his body, so Bill is blissful as he relishes the caresses of the two most favourite people in his life. He sighs in contentment. "Okey, dokey, matey," Sam says as he gives Bill a little slap on the leg. "Get off, it's time fer supper." Sam disappears into the kitchen, the sound of preparations can be heard, and a few minutes later he reappears, laden with supper for the three of them. Bill is curled up in Roger's lap, head resting against chest and with the man's arms wrapped around him. "Betta watch it," Sam observes as he puts the supper tray on the coffee table. "If'n Rog spills his hot drink, he'll burn yer balls." Bill giggles and reluctantly slides off Roger's lap to sit besides him. "Thanks, Sam, You're doing a great job there," Roger says. "No probs," Sam replies as he sits on the other side of Bill. He briefly grasps Roger's arm before picking up his mug of hot chocolate. ************* As they get ready for bed, they jostle for room, around the sink to brush their teeth, and in the toilet to pee. Sam proudly picks up his toothbrush from its accustomed place in the rack and starts to brush. Bill is given a new toothbrush, which he inspects rather dubiously as if it is an unfamiliar instrument of torture. "You want your mouth to taste nice and fresh for when I kiss you goodnight, don't you?" Roger says. Bill nods and loads it with far more toothpaste than necessary. He is happy to copy what Roger and Sam do. "Goodnight Sam." Roger kisses the teen on the cheek, as Sam wraps his arms around the man and squeezes tight. Bill raises his head for his goodnight kiss and wraps his arms around Roger's neck as the man bends over to kiss the boy on the lips. "Hmm, yummy," Roger murmurs and he ruffles the lad's hair. ************* Sam appears at the bedroom door, bare torso firm and hairless, sultry eyes peering out from under his untidy fringe, luscious lips in a half-smile. "So, Bill went to sleep OK?" Roger asks. "Yeah, he nivir takes long to drop off." Sam advances into the room. His smile twitches a little larger as he slips off his boxers. Roger admires the sight of the teen's hairless balls, sturdy cock, and thin strip of pubes across the base of his dick. "Perv," Sam chuckles at Roger's stare. The boy happily displays himself, proud to be desirable and desired. Roger's gaze and Sam's anticipation of what's to come soon has it's effect and his dick starts to stir and swell a little. Sam's cock sticks out only a little from it's normal dangle, but this is enough for the tip of its head to peek out from the concealing foreskin. "Right, then," Sam murmurs, his voice husky with lust, as he slips under the bedclothes and into Roger's welcoming arms. Sam lies half on Roger and rests his head on the man's chest. He sighs in content, kisses Roger's nipple, then raises his head, grins and clambers up on top. Sam's dick, now fully hard, presses hotly against Roger's belly. The boy lowers his head to kiss Roger, mouth open and tongue ready to invade the man's mouth. Their tongues meet, caress and explore. Roger's cock stiffens and presses against Sam's legs. The teen parts his thighs to let it between his legs and closes them again to trap Roger's hard-on in the warm crevice under his balls. Roger strokes Sam's back from shoulders to buttocks, lingering on his butt cheeks, exploring his crack, and rubbing against his hole. "Mmm," Sam murmurs and he raises his bum a little to meet the invading finger. He breaks off the kiss. "Ya know, this kissy stuff is pretty faggy." "So, why are you kissing me?" Sam shrugs "Dunno, it's cool." He pauses, then smirks. "Aksherly, it's pretty fucken hot." Sam grasps Roger's cock and gives it a squeeze, then looks down as if surprised at what he has in his hand. He slides down the bed, inspects the weapon in his hand and kisses the head, moist with pre-cum. Roger shudders at the sensation of the boy's soft lips on his cockhead. Sam sighs. "S'pose ya gonna spunk in me mouth agin. Oh well, may's well get it over and dun with." "It's OK if you don't want to. I'll tell you when I'm about to come and you can take it out of your mouth and finish me off with your hand." "Nah, not ta worry. I made a president, no point in gettin' picky now." "President?" Roger asks. "You know, dun it before, no reason not ta do it again." "Oh. I think you mean a precedent." "That's what I said, president. Jeez." Sam shakes his head impatiently at Roger. The teen focuses his attention on the man's erection. A flush appears on his cheeks and his lips curve in a slight smile. Sam looks eager, not reluctant in spite of his words, to feast on what's before him. Sam rasps the cockhead with his tongue, then plunges down on the shaft until it presses against the entrance to his throat, He pulls back, just a little, and sucks vigorously. Roger buries his hands in the hair at the back of the boy's head and moans quietly at the intense sensation that is almost an exquisite pain. The stimulation to his cock becomes the centre of his being that his attention and sensations circle around and disappear into like a black hole. "Uh, Sam, I'm gonna come," Roger gasps. Sam ignores the warning, just withdrawing a little so that only the head of Roger's cock is in his mouth. Roger spurts powerfully and his cum hits the back of the boys mouth and coats his tongue. Sam swallows the salty, slightly bitter emision and vacuums out the last drop of spunk, then reluctantly lets Roger's cock slip out of his mouth. "Yor spunk's disgustin' stuff," he complains, but his satisfied smile belies his words. Sam climbs back on top of Roger, looks down at him, kisses him and thrusts his spermy tongue into Roger's mouth. "There, ya can take your own revolting splooge back," he says with a devilish grin. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful," Roger laughs. "I can't think of any better way of tasting my own cum than from your mouth." Roger wraps his arms around Sam and rolls him on his back. He caresses and kisses the boy from his face, to his chest and lower torso until he reaches the core of boyhood. Roger admires Sam's proudly upstanding prong for a moment, before cupping the youth's balls in his hand and kissing the shaft from base to head. Sam sighs as he accepts the worship of his dick. Roger wets a finger in his mouth and wriggles it between the boy's legs; and Sam opens them to give better access to his arsehole. Roger's finger reaches the boy's little rosebud and he pushes it inside at the moment he engulfs the head of Sam's swollen dick. "Ohh," Sam moans at the double assault. His attention focuses on the double stimulation, while everything else fades away into irrelevancy. Roger feasts on Sam's love organ. He relishes the boy's spongy dickhead as he massages it with his tongue. He swallows Sam's hard-on whole until his nose is buried in the boy's pubes. Roger inhales the funky aroma of teenboy and essence of Sam. Sam has the hair-trigger response typical of teens and the sensations is quickly too much to bear. "Ungh, . . . aah, oh Rog," he groans and he comes. The pulsing of Sam's dick gives Roger an instant of warning and he withdraws a little to receive the teen's deposit on his tongue. The muscle of Sam's ring spasms and tightens almost painfully on Roger's finger. Roger lets Sam's dick slip out of his mouth and looks up at him. The boy's eyes are closed, there is a slight sheen of sweat on his face, and he has a beatific smile as he recovers from the intense emotions. Roger wiggles his finger, which is still inserted in Sam's bum. Sam opens his eyes and grins down at the man. "Ya know, yer likes to stick yor finger up me arse, youse may as well stick yor cock up there." Roger looks at Sam in surprise. "Are you sure?" "Yeah, why not. I want to see what the big deal is. You gays seem to like the whole arse fucking thing, so it can't hurt that bad." Sam tries to look offhand about his suggestion, but he licks his lips and his face flushes. Roger's heart beats a little faster at the prospect of penetrating the teen's arse and his cock twitches and starts to harden once more. He takes the lubricant from the bedside table drawer and greases his cock. "Lift up your legs, lad," Roger instructs. Sam obediently folds his legs onto his chest, wrapping his arms around them, exposing his arsehole. Roger greases the magic muscle and his finger slips in effortlessly as if sinking into quicksand. Sam sighs, smiles, and his dick, which never went entirely soft after his blowjob, instantly goes rock hard as it lies along his belly. Roger positions his knob against Sam's hole and applies a steady pressure. Sam's face frowns in concentration. Roger feels resistance to entry, then Sam's ring surrenders and relaxes and lets his shaft inside. Sam's back passage is hot and tight and squeezes on Roger's cock, but it slides in steadily until his pubes are pressed against Sam's body. Sam gasps. "Are you OK?" Roger asks. "Oh, yeah, I shore am." "It doesn't hurt too much?" "No. It's feels weird, almost like it should hurt, but it don't. Nah, it don't" Sam smiles. "It's all good." Roger pulls out a little, then thrusts back in again, probing as deep in the boy's body as his cock will reach. Sam gasps. "OH, Jeez." Roger pauses. "Are you sure you're OK?" "Yair. I jest had the most amazing feeling, like sommat outta this world." "That was probably your prostrate I stimulated." "Yeah? Well, get on with it then. Niver thought I'd have to beg a fag to hurry up an' screw me," Sam says in mock disgust. He looks up at Sam, hard-on throbbing, bright-eyed, eager, accepting of what was happening to him. Roger draws back and slams his cock home with full force. "Be polite when I fuck you," he instructs. "Ouch," Sam winces, then he laughs. Roger bends over and kisses Sam. The boy wraps his arms around Roger's neck to hold him close. Their tongues fence and caress as Roger thrusts slowly and gently, keeping his cock buried as much as possible and moving just enough to massage and sensuously stimulate Sam's prostate. Sam gurgles and moans at the sensory overload that is almost, but not quite, at the point of pain. Roger realises that he cannot last any longer and, breaking Sam's hold, he straightens up and, with two last strong thrusts and a groan of release, he comes. Sam's ring tightens around the man's cock, his dick quivers and spits out a little squirt of spunk that lands on his belly. Roger's cock softens and pops out of Sam's hole. "Oh," Sam sighs in disappointment at the loss. Roger wraps the boy in his arms and tenderly kisses on the lips. "Are you OK, then?" he asks. "Oh, yair, am I ever," Sam sighs, contentedly. Sam feels safe, secure, at home in a way that he never is with his mother. Roger's love is a balm to his soul. It is not just a teen's obsession with sex, as he eagerly surrenders control in a way that is against all the normal instincts of a hardened street-wise youth. Perhaps Sam's friendship with Roger will teach him how to be open and trusting with some life-partner in the future. . o O 0 O o . CHAPTER 20 Roger dreams that he is in a sideshow in a fair, wrestling with a greased piglet. It wriggles and squirms in his arms, until it finally lies still. Roger wakes and opens his eyes, to find Bill lying in his arms, brown eyes gazing into his from a few inches away. Sam sleeps on the other side of Bill. Roger lazily strokes the boy's back and cups one of his buttocks, caressing it. "Good morning, little man." "Mornin'. Sam slept with ya las' night," Bill announces. "Well, yes he did," Roger admits. "Are yer in the nuddie?" "Yes." Bill's small hand wriggles it way between their two bodies until it reaches Roger's bush. "Youse hairy," he announces as he explores this novel new toy. Roger instantly becomes hard at the sensation of the boy's hand in his groin. Bill's hand bumps against the hard-on, but he ignores it as he runs his fingers through the man's pubes and tugs on the hairs. Finally, his explorations complete, Bill grasps Roger's erection. Roger's cock becomes even harder, if possible, as he feels the boy's small warm hand squeezing it. "Youse gotta stiffy." Bill grins at the discovery. "It's big." Bill strokes his hand along the shaft, down to the base and up to the head, down again and up again. He rubs his hand over the opening to Roger's cock as it oozes precum. This is too much to bear and Roger grips Bill's bum and groans as he comes into the lad's hand. Bill frowns and brings out his hand to inspect it and the slime that covers his palm. " 'Zhat your sperms?" Roger relaxes and his heart beat slows as he recovers from his orgasm. "Yes, it is." Bill sniffs at the deposit, he tests it with the tip of his tongue, he thinks about the taste for a moment, then licks his hand clean. "Tastes funny." Bill is thoughtful for a moment as he runs his tongue over his lips, then breaks into a wide smile. "Likes it, tis yummy." Roger hugs Bill, who buries his face in the man's chest, holding tight with an arm draped over his back. Roger lies peacefully, with the bony little body in his arms, Bill's warm breath on his chest, and the sound of Sam's gentle snores in the background. Roger stirs, regretful at spoiling the moment. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have to piss." "Me too." The naked boy pads after Roger into the toilet and stands besides him at the toilet bowl. Roger lets his piss flow with a sigh of relief and looks with interest at Bills willy peeking out from between the boy's fingers, the foreskin pulled back to reveal the tip of the head, and the stream of piss emerging from the slit. Bill directs his pee in the path of Roger's with a giggle, then gazes with interest at the man's cock and balls. Bill had sometimes had glimpses of his Mum's naked boyfriends, but he had never had a close inspection of a man's genitals before. Bill is fascinated with the difference between Roger's hefty hairy man cock and his little hairless boy prick. Roger starts the shower running and, when the water warms up, gets into the shower cabinet. Bill follows him as if it is the most natural thing in the world to do, like a pilot fish staying in close attendance to a shark. Roger looks down at his little pal. "Are you having a shower? You had one last night." "I'se likes showers. We only 'as a barf at home, 'n I hates barfs." Roger soaps himself, while Bill stands in the deflected splash of the shower from the man's body, watching. Bill stares intently at Roger's cock. "Willy's 'uge." "It's not so large." "Much bigger'n mine." "Well yes," Roger replies, "but if a small boy your age had a fat four or five inch cock, it would look very peculiar. And think what it would look like when it got stiff and got even bigger." Bill considers this for a moment and starts to giggle. His hands mime the size of an enormous rod jutting out from his groin. Roger laughs and finishes rinsing the soap off his body. "Aren't you going to wash yourself?" Bill shrugs. "No wonder you're a smelly boy. Washing requires soap as well as water, you know." Roger shampoos the boy's hair, then washes him from top to bottom, kneeling to reach the lower regions. He tenderly washes Bill's willy, pulling back the foreskin to wash underneath. The boy's dick stands to attention in response to the man's gentle hands fiddling with it. Roger admires the little stalk proudly upstanding before his face, then slips a soapy hand between Bill's legs and up between his buttocks, cleaning the entrance to his hole on the way. Bill is blissful, with a constant smile as he soaks up the attention and affection that he's been starved of for all of his short life. Roger stands, to rinse the shampoo from the boy's hair, his cock hard and jutting into the air, the splash of shower water running down the shaft. Bill reaches out and grasps the weapon before him. "Hey, play with your own toy. Leave mine alone." Bill giggles, but keeps a firm grip of the man's hard-on, enjoying the solid feel of the shaft, so much larger than his own, as it gently throbs in his hand. "Now you're as clean as a new pin," Roger says as he shuts off the water and leads the boy out of the shower. Roger drapes a towel around Bill's shoulders, then dries himself. Bill stands quietly, watching, making no attempt to dry himself, so Roger takes the boy's towel and rubs him down. He starts by vigorously rubbing the boys mop of hair, then works his way down his body. Roger kneels to dry Bill's lower regions. "Rest your hands on my shoulders," Roger instructs. Roger lifts one leg and dries the small, narrow foot, then he lifts the other skinny leg to dry the left foot. He gently pats dry the stiffy waggling in front of his face, stroking it a little with his fingers as he does so. Roger looks up into Bill's face. "There, all done." The boy leans forward, pecks Roger on the lips, then leans back to see the man's reaction. Roger smiles up at Bill and pats him on the bum. "It's time to get dressed." Roger returns to his bedroom, small boy trailing in his wake, and looks down at Sam, who is still sleeping in his bed. Roger dresses as he smiles fondly at the teen, tousled hair on pillow and curved over neck, long eyelashes protecting closed eyes, lips slightly parted as he breathes quietly, bare shoulders emerging from the bedclothes. "Are you ready for breakfast?" Roger asks Bill, who has been standing silently, watching the man's reverse strip tease with interest. "Yeah." Bill clambers onto the bed and jumps on top of the sleeping youth. "Sam, wakey wakey, it's brekky time." Sam groans. "Ger' off," he complains sleepily. ****************** Roger and Bill sit in the morning sun at the breakfast table. Roger feels a fatherly concern towards Bill's well-being in a way he doesn't for Sam, with the older boy's sturdy independence. Bill is still a small boy who needs an adult's protection to shield him from the world, and male role model to learn how to become a man. Bill's comfort and ease when with Roger reassures the man. Roger hopes and believes that the lad regards his flat like a second, more welcoming, home. Sam stumbles down the stairs, sleepy-eyed and droopy, but he has managed to wake up enough to slip on some boxers, that are tented out slightly with the boy's morning wood. He drops into the chair opposite Roger and grunts when the man wishes him a good morning. Roger goes to the kitchen and when he returns with the teen's breakfast and sits back at the table, Sam has woken up a little more. "Ta, Rog," Sam mumbles with a sleepy grin as he picks up a slice of toast. Sam leans back in his chair, stretches out and rests his bare feet on Roger's as he starts to eat. The three breakfast in quiet domestic peace, with Sam slowly coming to life, Bill engrossed in his meal, and Roger observing the boys. The air wafting in from the open window is mild and promises another hot day. The sounds of the city form a background noise that is so much part of the life of the urban dweller that he no longer hears it. "Oops," Sam murmurs when he drops a fragment of toast and marmalade on his smooth bare chest. He scoops it up with a finger, sticks his finger in his mouth and licks it clean. Bill giggles and moves his last remaining bite of his last piece of toast so that it is poised over his own bare little torso. "Don't even think about it," Roger warns. "You've already had your shower this morning." Bill's eyes sparkle and he grins mischievously, but he pops the morsel into his mouth. Sam finishes the last sip of his tea, stretches his arms and yawns widely. He is now ready for another day. He glances at his little brother, then returns his attention to Roger. "Right, time fer meditation." Roger and Sam settle on the floor and enter their familiar trance. Roger can now sense the changes in Sam's spirit; the reservoirs of anger are starting to dissipate, and the larger knots and distortions of his spirit are starting to unravel. Roger helps direct Sam's attention to these tangles in the boy's spirit and lends his energy to smoothing them out. By doing so, the effects of previous hurt and pain to Sam's spirit are healed. This is a long-term work in progress and when they begin to tire, they finish their meditation. Just as Roger can observe Sam's spirit, so is the teen aware of Roger's. Sam senses Roger's gentle nature and his love and concern for the boy. Sam knows that he can trust the man and can feel comfortable at exposing his vulnerability, as Roger will not abuse this trust. But Sam can equally observe that Roger's spirit is not perfect. There is a minor pettiness, selfishness, meanness that is reflected in minor distortions in the man's spirit. There is tendency to take advantage of a friend's good nature. Also, the effects of traumas earlier in Roger's life have not been fully overcome. These imperfections are a comfort to Sam, as they reassure him that he doesn't have feel bad about the state of his own spirit. On his journey through life, his spiritual growth will continue until the moment of his death. Sam's eyes open and a slow broad smile spreads over his face. He leans forward and kisses Roger on the lips. "Gonna take a shower," Sam says and he disappears upstairs. Bill sits on the floor close to Roger and observes with intense interest. "Watcha doin'?" "We are practising our meditation." "Huh? Can I hava go?" Roger agrees and guides Bill into a state of meditation. He detects the boy's spirit, that is largely different from Sam's, though with some similarities. While Bill's character is distinct, it is still malleable and in the process of becoming fully fixed. This is reflected in the instinct of a young child to trust adults and to accept the cruelty of parents as simply part of life and something not to be questioned. It is with the onset of puberty that the youth fights for separation from the parental bonds, to become an independent, self-contained spirit. Roger can see how the hurts of Bill's young life is affecting his spirit and feels an almost irresistible urge to start repairing those hurts. However, Bill's spirit is still a fragile, developing entity and, with the trust the boy now places in him as a parental figure, Roger fears that his intervention would mould Bill's spirit in a way that would not be natural for the boy. This would be a violation of selfhood, as bad as any physical violation, that Roger cannot risk. Regretfully, Roger withdraws his awareness of Bill's spirit and leaves the state of meditation. Bill opens his eyes with a puzzled frown. "How was that?" Roger asks. "Nuffink happened." "Well, that's what meditation is, the chance to have a peaceful time." "Oh," Bill replies blankly. He shrugs, then gets to his feet and wanders away. Roger is deliberately misleading so that Bill is not encouraged to meditate. He decides that the best way he can help the boy in the meanwhile is to provide a safe loving haven for him. Perhaps when Bill enters puberty he might introduce the lad to active meditation and its benefits. . o O 0 O o . End of Part 4 To be continued . . .