Date: Wed, 8 Nov 2006 10:22:28 +0000 (GMT) From: Nathan Me Subject: James 28 'James' by Nathan Email address nathan7new@yahoo.co.uk My stories are archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/nathansstories/. This story contains material of a sexual nature and describes sexual acts between adults and children. If you find this kind of material offensive, if you are under the legal age to read such material or if it is illegal in your country, please do not read any further. My stories may contain some factual or autobiographical elements, but they are works of fiction and any apparent similarities of my characters to real people are not intended. This story is protected by copyright. It may not be downloaded, copied, printed or otherwise reproduced in any way other than for your private enjoyment and may not be changed in any way without express written consent of the author, me! I hope you enjoy this story. James: Chapter 28 James threw the ball to Darren, but Darren dropped the ball, because he wasn't concentrating, he was looking towards to outside door. James followed his line of sight just in time to see three men leave. One looked back over his should and caught his eye. James froze. No. It couldn't be. Here? How? Why? Tom? The whistle blew for the end of the game, but James had already stopped. He didn't understand what he had just seen. Was that Tom? If so, why was he here? Had he tracked him down and if so how? His head spun and he almost fell. Darren thumped his back as he passed. "Good game, James." "Thanks." James struggled to move. As all the others were now halfway across the gym and he hadn't moved, the teacher shouted at him to get a move on or he wouldn't have time for a shower. Chris had seen the last few moments of the play from the other side of the gym. He was guarding a huge lad called Cameron who kept on scoring. He also saw James stop dead, staring after the men who had been with the headmaster. James had discussed Tom with Chris and Sam, but not gone into any great detail. Chris didn't get a good enough look at either of the men with the Headmaster to assume it was him, but something had obviously spooked James. By the time James caught up with him, some colour had already started to return to his cheeks. "You alright?" Chris asked. "Yeah, just that last play." "That all?" "Yeah, why?" He watched to see if Chris had really noticed anything, or whether he was just being a friend. "No reason. You just seemed to freeze up and star into space." "Just knackered." As they walked through towards the boys changing room, the noise of 18 energized boys invaded the corridor long before they reached the door. Many of the boys were already naked and moving towards the communal showers and the pungent aroma of sweaty boys hung in the air behind them. There were no privacy walls here, just a long line of showerheads down two facing tiled walls with a gap for walking down the middle. James peeled of his sweaty t-shirt and sat down to untie his trainers. As he bent over he closed his eyes, trying to capture that briefest of moments as the men had gone through the gym doors and one, the one who could have been Tom, turned and caught his eye. Did he catch his eye, or was he just taking a last look around? Was it deliberate or accidental? Was it Tom, or just someone who looked like him? No matter how accurately James tried to recall what he had seen, the face always morphed into a clear and close image of Tom: Tom in front of him in the shower, Tom lying face to face with him in bed, Tom sitting on the sofa cradling James' head in his lap and leaning down to kiss him. He slipped off his trainers and tugged at his sweaty socks, eventually deciding to roll them off instead. He stood up and slipped down his gym shorts, kicking them up onto the bench. He slipped first one and then the other thumb into his waist band and began to slip down his under wear, but as the waistband reached his young tool, he realised that it was standing to attention, stiff and erect. He immediately blushed. Was that thinking of Tom? "Come on, slow coach." Chris patted his back as he passed. James slid off his underwear and followed Chris down to the showers, hoping that by staying close, no one would get to clear a look at his hardon. "James!" Chris was smirking at him. "You please to see me or what?" "What?" "You got a stiffy." James looked down and it was still sticking out. He faced the wall, turned slightly towards Chris so that the boy on his other side wouldn't get a clear view. He was blushing, but as he looked up he saw that Chris too had an erection. "Look who's talking." "Yeah, but I wasn't trying to hide mine by shoving in my mates back!" he said laughing. James blushed again. "Ok. Sorry. Just not used to showering like this yet." "Get used to it. We could be here till we're 18." James' erection began to disappear at that thought. He hadn't though about what was going to happen to him in the long-term, just the next few days or weeks. The home was nice, but did he want to spend the next 6 years here? He again thought of Tom and his London apartment. Did he want to spend the next 6 years with a man, living somewhere like that, doing that? He let out a huge sigh. "What's wrong?" Chris asked as he lathered up his chest and stomach. "Hadn't thought about the next 6 years." James reached out to the soap dispenser on the wall between them and began to slowly rub soap into a lather on his own torso. "I hadn't really thought beyond the next few days." "Not like they're gonna give us much say in what happens anyways." Chris ran the lather down from his shoulder to his fingertips and then back underneath to his armpit. Then he repeated on his other arm. "They won't let me and Danny go back with dad, or Sam with John, even when they get out of prison. Pretty shit really." James watched Chris lather his thighs and knees, as he started on his own hair. "Do we get any say at all? Could they just put us up for adoption or leave us in some other rotten home till we're 18 and forget about us?" "Reckon so." Chris lathered his balls and dick and ran his fingers through in between until he felt his crack. His hands then went round in circles on his butt. Then he stood in the flow of warm water and washed all the soap lather off again. Some of the boys had already started moving back into the changing area. Darren was immediately opposite James, staring into space. James watched the water part the boys black hair on his forehead, run down the straight nose and over the ruby red lips to the boy's chin. From there a small waterfall twisted and arched back, until it met a muscular chest. Although Darren was only twelve, he was well developed and spent a lot of time playing sports. His chest and abdomen were defined by tight muscles. The water rippled over his six-pack and down to the small patch of black hairs that were just beginning to define his burgeoning manhood. James noticed that Darren too was sporting an erection. It wasn't full on, but enough to show that the boy had at least a four or four and a half inch dick. The water ran through the few black hairs, flattening them and down the firm shaft to its end, where it once again twisted off in a miniature waterfall. Chris prodded James in the side. "Be more obvious, why don't you?" "What?" "I know he's fit, but staring at him will get you a name." "Already got one, thanks: James." "Nice to meet you, James. I'm Christopher." James flicked soapy water at Chris, who backing off too quickly, slipped and landed hard on his rear in the middle walkway. James stepped forwards to help him recover, but Darren got there first and reached out a hand. Chris looked up, smiled and took it. Darren's grasp was firm, solid and reassuring. Their eyes met and something, Chris thought, for just a moment, something connected. "You ok?" James asked. "Fine." Darren still had hold of his hand. Slowly, he let go, but held eye contact a little too long to be coincidental. Chris blushed. James pushed him gently from behind and the three boys, the last three, walked back to dry off and dress in the changing room. The rest of the morning was uneventful. James was lost in his own private dream world. When Mr Arram, the history teacher, asked him who the man in the picture on the screen was, Chris had to kick him under the table to get his attention and whispered, "Winston Churchill" to him. At lunch he almost tripped over Darren and by dinner Mr Spiller had a note on his desk that James seemed out of it today and might need someone to check on him. The counsellor climbed up to the common rooms, hoping to catch James there, but quickly established that no one had seen him. He climbed up to the senior dorm corridor and along to the boy's room. James wasn't there either, but Sam was. "Hi, Sam. Everything all right with you? Any more problems?" "No, I'm fine." "How are you and the others settling down now the main police interviews are out of the way?" "I just wish I had called the police sooner and stopped it all." "What you did, Sam, was very brave. No one blames you and we can only imagine how hard it was to do that, with your father being involved too." "But I always knew it was wrong, so I should have done something before." "Sometimes it takes a long time for us to see what we should do. Afterwards, with hindsight, it all seems so clear, so black and white, but when you're in the middle of it, it can be a lot harder to know what to do. You really are the hero here, Sam. I'm sure the others know that too." "I don't feel like no hero. And now, well, what future do any of us have." Mr Spiller pulled out a chair and sat facing the young teen, "Sam, I am not going to say that everything will be wonderful. I guess you might be missing your father and confused because although you love him, he was also involved and partly responsible for all this mess. What I do know is that once the things that are holding you back are removed, other things, other possibilities eventually present themselves and life becomes pretty much what you make of it. Your teachers tell me you are a bright, intelligent and thoughtful boy with great potential. Add to that brave and resilient, which you have already proved, and I think that is a recipe for a bright and fulfilling future. You can achieve and be what you want to be in the future. I was an orphan and grew up in a children's home and look at me know: I'm married with children; I have a degree in child psychology and doing a job I really enjoy." He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know that just now everything seems so difficult, but I have also noticed how close you and James are. It seems that although you met in difficult circumstances, the two of you have become firm friends." "I guess." "So already, positive things are beginning to happen for you. If stuff really gets on top of you, come and see me. I really mean that. I don't want you to have to struggle through this alone, not talking or sharing. I will always listen and Sam, I know that some of the stuff that went on you didn't like, but I also know that a lot of it will still be in your head and confusing you. If you want to talk about that stuff too, you can. I don't get embarrassed by sex talk or difficult questions." Sam went red, but nodded anyway. "Ok, so really, anytime." "Why do I have to talk to that psychologist?" "Sam, the truth is that although I can discuss anything with you, what you boys have been through could have done real harm to you not just physically, but to your belief about who you are and your relation to the world around you. Sometimes, it needs someone with expertise in that area to help you get past those experiences. Dr Harcross is only there to help you all do that. We want to help you as much as we can, so we asked him to have a chat with you all and see if there was anything else we needed to do to help you. He is very good at helping people get over bad experiences. He even spoke to my kids when their granddad died last year." "It just seems like everyone wants a piece of my life. I have to tell it over and over and over." "Not if you don't want to. I am sure Dr Harcross won't press you to talk about anything you really don't want to." "So if I don't want to see him I don't have to?" "Well, I guess." He watched the boy pick his nails nervously. "But, please, give it a couple of sessions first, just to see if it could be any help to you. Will you do that?" "I guess." The young teen shrugged and offered the man a week smile. He was actually starting to like Mr Spiller and that was unusual. Sam really didn't like men much at all. "Oh, by the way, have you seen James anywhere? I need to talk with him too." By adding the 'too' he hoped he had disguised the fact that he hadn't really come to talk to Sam at all. He knew how fragile the boys were after everything they had been through and the recent problem at the school only made it worse. This was supposed to be a safe place, not where they suffered even more. He was feeling very bad about it, even though it was not his fault. "I think he went for a walk in the gardens." "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow, Sam, and remember, absolutely anything at all. Ok?" "Ok." More to come...