Date: Wed, 20 Sep 2017 07:53:13 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Lion-King Chapter 26 Lion-King by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with fresh young lads then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. This is the final Chapter of Lion-King, the second part of the trilogy which started with Fourteen Again. The final part will appear soon. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 26 I woke in my own bed in Harlow on 31 August 1957. I saw 'I woke', but since I was whisked here on the dot of midnight I haven't slept a wink. There's so much to experience today. For the first time since they died I'll see Ace and Jack again. They won't see me, or know I'm there, but there's a bit of me that hopes they'll somehow sense me. I'll be there as well - the real King, that is. I think it'll be easier for both of us - that's me and you - if I distinguish between the King that was really alive then and me, the time-travelling King. Perhaps if I use King for the real one and "I" for me - the one who's writing this. Sorry if that sounds complicated: believe me, it's a bloody sight more complicated being inside this story. I have to be in Oxford before Ace and Jack meet me at the professor's. I need to set off about 8, because if I'm late I haven't a clue what the consequences might be. The only worry I have, and it's one I've had all the time, is whether my bike will be as invisible to everybody as I am. I'll only be invisible to people I've actually seen before - Ace, Jack, the professor and some passers-by in Oxford - so all the motorists on the road will see me. I'm hoping that means that the bike'll be visible, otherwise riding it to Oxford and back will be tricky, to say the least of it. I have a last look round. It's been a long time since I was last here. The last thing I did before leaving was to put the papers Jason had given me in an envelope and leave it propped up behind the kitchen clock where it can't possibly be missed, together with the 25 hand-written accounts I had made about my 31 August experiences since 2017. There would be no Nifty for decades yet. I put a card on the table as well, which I hoped would explain everything. It's horribly hot for Harlow. Nothing like as hot as Tangier, of course, but that's a long time in the future (or is it the past?) and I'm not accustomed to it any more (or yet). There will be a thunderstorm before the day is out. But of course I'm perfectly well aware of that, as you are. I reached Oxford well before we were due to meet the professor. Since he and I had met I would be invisible and undetectable to him. As I rode across from Harlow I wondered how I was going to get into his house. I thought of slipping in immediately behind Ace and Jack - they wouldn't see me either - but if the professor shut the door quickly I wouldn't have time. In the end the solution was really obvious. I rang the bell. If the professor answered he would see no-one on his doorstep and his momentary bewilderment would give me time to slip in. If no-one answered all I had to do was wait until he came home and slip in behind him. If a servant opened the door I would be visible and would have to ask for Dr So-and-so, to be told that I was at the wrong address. I wasn't sure that my bike would be invisible, so I parked it round the corner. There was the professor, startled by the ring on his bell. I slipped in, and went to the dining room, sitting on the floor in a corner out of the way. The professor came in and fussed about the table, setting out the many glasses and items of cutlery that Jack would tactfully guide us through. Oh, yes, I'd noticed his hint to Ace, and I was grateful. Ace and I had never experienced gracious eating, but now of course I knew that Jack had had many decades of adult life in which to learn such things - as I now had. The bell rang again, and King came in. "I" was used to this by now, but nevertheless it was very strange to see myself like that in these circumstances. King and the professor spent a few minutes discussing the building contract, neither of them completely at their ease. Last week when King has thrashed out all the details there had been a customer-tradesman attitude to which both of them were accustomed. Had King been offered a mug of tea the social niceties would still have been familiar, but King was in the room where he would be invited to sit down to a lunch, and a splendid lunch at that. However, as you know, all went well in the end. The bell rang. This was it. "I" had not seen these two people for 60 years. I knew "I" would be invisible, but if "I" made a sound, would they hear? 60 years is a long time, and though Leo had filled my heart and my life for the last 45 there had been a terrible gap before that Gay Pride march. In they came. Ace - oh, dammit, "I" was weeping already. Thank God no-one was aware of this 88-going-on-28-year-old losing it in the corner. And Jack, not 14 at all, but 70, full of guile and wisdom and sexual energy. And love. Love for Ace, but quite a lot of it shared with "me" - no, with King. But remembered by me with joy: joy rekindled now as "I" sobbed in my corner. Soon, boys, soon. They had their lunch and since "I" now knew that any sound "I" made was undetected "I" allowed myself the out-loud laugh King had denied himself at the wine moment. Cheeky little bugger! Jack, like "me" thanks to Leo, had led a rich life if he could distinguish a '52 from a '53 Chablis. The professor was all over him after that. A few days earlier, "I" remembered, he had been unhappy with Jack being under his roof when he saw how old (or young) he was. Now he seemed to be less unwilling for his reputation to be put at risk by having, as he put it, a catamite as house guest. "I" chuckled as "I" remembered the ephebe remark from last week. Jack really had been out to tease the poor man. When they went through to the study for the identical twins conversation "I" slipped in too, again sitting on the floor in a corner. Jack was priceless, and the bit about the 2 inches had me in fits. It's never bothered "me", in my King days, that Ace's cock was bigger than mine: he was Ace and "I" was King and that was all that mattered. His cock was Ace's cock and "my" cock was King's cock. They could both piss and they could both fuck, and they were both available for being sucked: what else mattered? "I" was very intrigued by the fact that, unless one of us was touching him, the only way he could tell us apart was by scent. You learn something about identical twins every day - no doubt the reason why we were there in the first place. They agreed to take part in the research, and only "I" knew that it would never happen. "I" knew that King never carried out the professor's conversion. We were leaving. As soon as the door was opened "I" slipped out and ran to the bike. Ace and Jack rode off with King a bit behind. We stopped to eat - "I" stayed outside on the bike. After they left the food place at 10 "I" followed 50 yards behind King. Ace was 70 yards ahead of him. We were about 500 yards short of where it would happen. Fingers crossed, Rex. "I" drew up right next to King and smiled sadly at him. "I" leant towards him and, as if by magic, "I" blended into him, just as I'd hoped. "My" brain, his body. "I" had had a wonderful life with Leo and "I" needed to join him: it was Ace's turn for happiness now. I accelerated as hard as I could and passed Ace and Jack. I was just in time. The car pulled out in front of me and I cras ***** Extract from Essex Constabulary files. Officers attended a road traffic accident near Harlow on 1 September at 0008. A motor-bike swerved to avoid a car, but the rider lost control on the wet road and collided with the car at high speed. The rider, Mr Rex Perry, 28, was unconscious when the Ambulance Service arrived. He was pronounced dead by medical staff at 0025. The motorist, Mr Peter Brown, 70, was thrown through the windscreen and killed instantly. The motor cyclist's twin brother, Mr Adam Perry, who was riding some 70 yards behind, witnessed the accident and ran to his brother's aid. Witness reported that his brother, severely wounded but still conscious, said "Is the boy OK?", but lapsed into unconsciousness without saying more. A 14-year-old boy, coincidentally also called Peter Brown, riding pillion behind Mr Adam Perry, was shaken, but unhurt. =============================================================================== That concludes the second part of the trilogy. badboi666@btinternet.com I'd love to hear your thoughts.