Schoolie

Life in The Village, through the eyes of Tom Grant, the only teacher at the remote school.

This is an original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
by Robert A. Armstrong (a pseudonym)
(re-written from my 2013 version)

The resemblance of the characters by action, name, location or description to any real person is purely coincidental.

If it is illegal, or offensive, for you to read stories involving interactions of a sexual nature between adults and youths, then what are you doing here?

 

 

From Chapter 14

Dinner is delicious and the three of us pass around my phone with the photographs, commenting on expressions, clothes, groupings, etc.

I mentally make a note of which ones to send to Mum and Dad.

Marty is drinking beer. Will's having lemonade and I'm into the caffeine. We all agree when it's time to `hit the sack'.

I don't know whether Marty falls asleep quickly, but Will and I don't. LOL.

 

My deodorant comes in handy, yet again, as an air freshener. I need to buy more of this stuff. I'm running out.

Chapter 15 - Time Apart

Saturday morning. On the trip into Big Town with Marty, it's only now that I feel comfortable in sharing the details of my `meeting' with Lilly on Tuesday afternoon, and my disgust at her appearance, her language and her behaviour.

I express very clearly my empathy for Will but do not share his darker secrets of her sexual abuse of him.

Marty reveals a lot more of his aunt's `antics' around The Village over the past years. Maybe Will is right. A single lightning bolt from heaven would be too quick for her! She really should burn and suffer.

After stopping at the store to hand over our list of grocery requirements, Marty and I head to the Acropolis.

I've been looking forward to this! My obligatory custard tart is consumed with gusto. 4 bites is all that it takes!

I wonder whether Jake could add custard tarts to his cooking prowess, alongside apple pies! We could invite him to stay more often. Who would object?

A number of people stop to chat with Marty about his recent encounter with the snake and he shares the details, and adds his `almost-complete recovery'.

I take the opportunity to use my phone to send mum and dad just two photographs - one of Marty (my landlord) with me, which Jane took, and one of all the `cherubs', which I took.

Amid the conversations, Chad and Sean drop by. Extra talking. Extra caffeine and an extra custard tart! This time, I pace myself - 5 bites. I think that there is only one other thing that I would rather have in my mouth. LOL. `Soon!' I tell myself. I've psyched myself up into going further with Will, almost.

My fears of discovery and legal proceedings have not materialised, and that likelihood seems to be fading. I don't know whether Marty would be sympathetic if he ever found out, but I suspect that he would be, as long as he and I could also continue to play together.

However, there's Anna. Who was it who said something like, `Hell hath no Fury like a woman scorned'? What should I do about her and her potential wrath? Should I play up my fidelity for `Karen'? I think, having considered many options, including a review of the vestiges of my `normal' instincts, and considering Junior's apparent willingness to cooperate with her, against my wishes, that feigned fidelity seems my only safe alternative to keep her at bay.

Just before we leave for home, I receive a reply from mum thanking me for the `lovely photos'. She thinks that Marty is handsome (I don't disagree) and that the one of me with the children is `delightful', adding that I look healthy and still very young!

Haha! She has mistaken Will in the group photograph for me with my cherubs. It's understandable, considering that in the photo with Marty, I'm wearing identical clothes to Will in the group photo.

I'll let Will know. I'm sure that he'll be greatly amused, just as I am.

On the following Friday morning, with all of my preparations complete for the day's lessons, I sit on the schoolyard bench and watch all of my charges playing. I notice that Karl and Kurt seem quite animated in their discussions with Will - excitedly animated.

Suddenly, like a conspiracy of food-hungry seagulls sensing a free meal, the three guys flock around.

The twins sit, one on either side of me. Will stands directly facing me and speaks first. "Mr Grant, Karl and Kurt have told me that their dad, who normally comes home from his work every night, will need to stay out at the farm tonight. He said that there is a vet travelling up to examine some of the animals, including a mare whose foal is overdue. It's a long trip for her and everyone would benefit if she stayed overnight and got as much work done as possible in the one trip. And it would be easier for Mr Andersen to stay the night too, so that he could discuss each animal as she treats it."

I wonder whether the vet might be as accommodating to his physical needs, just as Lilly has been. She certainly would be a lot more attractive - whatever her appearance!

Will continues, "Mr Andersen told Karl and Kurt that I could spend the night with them if I wanted to, and that it would be good for the guys to have a more mature person with them, just to make sure that they don't get into any mischief."

Will looks from one to the other with a knowing smirk. I don't even have to see the twins' faces to gauge their enthusiasm for Will's sleepover - I can simply feel the energy emanating from each of them. They are not exactly hyperventilating but their breathing is audible and they are having difficulty sitting still. Also, Will is shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, and his eyes betray his anticipation.

Will doesn't need my permission to stay with the twins, but I thank him for the courtesy of letting me know that he won't be travelling home with me, and tell them all that I hope they have a lot of fun. They know that I'm aware of exactly what mischief they will surely get up to. I'm certain that this makes it even more exciting for them - tacit approval from an authority figure.

I check whether they will be OK for dinner and Karl tells me that `it's all good' because they often prepare the evening meal for their dad.

I ask Will whether he needs to collect anything from Marty's. He replies that he doesn't think so, but if he needs anything he can always duck across to his mum's place as he still has a few remaining `odds and ends' there, despite having moved most of his clothes and essentials to Marty's place weeks ago.

I instantly imagine the three of them romping around the house naked, playing all manner of grabbing games to satisfy their adolescent urges. Will might even `get lucky' and get to go a bit further with them, like he does with Jake. I suspect that this is one of his fantasies and hopes.

At the same time, I smile and contemplate myself being at home, alone, with Marty, who might `need a hand' with something as well.

Before I dismiss the children at the end of the day, I wish them all an enjoyable and safe weekend. My words are directed to everyone generally but are aimed at Will, Karl and Kurt in particular as I eyeball them. Then the senior boys all perform their `lock-up' duties, bid me a `good weekend' too, with smirks, winks and giggles, and they walk along the verandah before jumping off and breaking into a sprint, after Kurt has paused for his now-obligatory `helping hand'.

I sit at my desk, spinning a pencil in my fingertips. Alone. Well, almost. My thoughts are as intrusive upon my solitude as if somebody was with me and quizzing me on my life. Every second thought is about Mr William O'Brien - my Will - Interspersed with detailed memories of meeting the children at the weir and then meeting Marty, all on the same day.

Ah, yes, Will - the inappropriately nicknamed `Little Willie'! And there are thoughts of Marty's `Mum' and sister, Anna, who spent most of her time chasing Will - my Will, but who now seems intent on chasing me!

And then there are conjured visions of Jake masturbating with Will - my Will!

And the handsome blond, blue-eyed, melon-butted twins, Karl and Kurt - my Kurt.

Shit! Where did that thought come from? Enough! I need to get home to Marty.

I lock everything except the gate, which I simply pull closed as an indication to the sheep that `school is out for the weekend'. I smile when I see that Will's new `P' plates are still attached to my car, and decide that it's easier to just leave them there since I won't be travelling very far. I slide in and think about the boys having fun already - probably playing their first grabbing game, conjured to some imaginative scenario.

I drive, with thoughts of my once-boring, now-complicated, life flashing through my brain. I am relieved when I pull up at Marty's and see him with the dogs.

I walk over to them and when Marty looks up at me and then at my car, he comments, "All alone, eh?"

I can't help joking with him about Will. "Hi Marty. How's your day been? Yeah, the good news is that we only need to cook half as much food tonight. The big, hungry, smart-arse kid is staying with Karl and Kurt."

Marty knows that I am joking but this sort of roasting of Will may, hopefully, keep him off the scent of the true relationship between Will and me. Marty smiles at my reference to Will's appetite, then I see his expression alter. His smile broadens into a huge goofy grin. Perhaps the penny has just dropped that he and I will be alone together for the night. He's about to get lucky.

He gets up and slaps me on the back. "Well then, let's get started!" I can't tell whether there is any innuendo in his words or whether he's just referring to dinner. But, knowing Marty, there's bound to be more on his mind than pizza - two round potatoes and a plump piece of meat would be much closer. He smirks. "How do you feel about sausages, veg, mashed potato and my special gravy?" I knew it! I let the `special gravy' thought come and go without comment.

I enjoy bandying words with Marty. I reply, "Hmm. That sounds good. I haven't had a decent sausage in... I don't know how long." He looks at me strangely. I just smirk and wink. He raises an eyebrow, and I know that we are now on the same wavelength. There will be a bit of action after dinner for sure! I feel my sausage start to heat up. "I think I'll have a shower first," I say.

Marty heads to the kitchen and I head into my room. I put my things on Will's bed. I miss him already. I strip naked and grab my towel.

I adjust the taps until the water temperature is bearably hot - just how I like it. I luxuriate in the combination of heat and soap and I clean myself from head to toe.

I look up and there he is, Marty, leaning on the door frame, watching and making no pretence about it.

I say nothing but decide that this would be a good time to really soap up my cock and balls. Some swelling is inevitable - mine and, I suspect, his too.

I turn and face him directly, hiding nothing but trying to appear nonchalant.

"Need a hand with anything?" Marty asks hopefully.

"Nah. It's all good." I reply. He looks mildly disappointed. Then I add, "at least not before dinner." Smirk. "What about you? Can I give you a hand with something?"

"Any time you like," he smiles back with a devilish leer, suggestively lowering the zipper on his cut-offs to half-way.

"OK, then. I'll come and set the table," I reply, teasing by not looking at his hand, and staring directly into his eyes.

He wrinkles his nose at me, child-like, and heads back to the kitchen. I decide to dry off and just wrap the towel around my waist, expecting that it will be coming off sooner or later.

We enjoy the meal and continue our banter and suggestive inferences. Sausages figure prominently. Marty forks an entire sausage to his mouth, licking its length and sucking it in and out. I nod. It's all smirking-good fun.

We clean up then sit down again with a mug of coffee. "What about a hand now?" Marty puts his right elbow on the table and lifts his hand to an arm-wrestling position.

It's not at all what I was expecting but I match him and grasp his hand firmly, telling him "any time you're UP for it!" That elicits another grin and he starts to exert pressure on my arm.

I resist and push back against him. His arm yields a little. "Looks like that snake really took it out of you!" I goad.

He grits his teeth and increases his effort. "If I win, you lose the towel!" he grins playfully, obviously expecting me to be fully naked in a matter of moments.

He's strong, but so am I, maybe a lot more than he anticipated. I may not have his muscular `guns' but the gym workouts at home have not been wasted!

"Not before you'll be forfeiting those cut-offs." I throw back at him.

"We'll see about that, Mr City-Slicker Schoolie!" he retorts and pushes hard. The comment, while not derogatory, is intended to be both provocative and challenging. I accept.

For two or three minutes, it's an even contest but my arm is getting sore. I contemplate `throwing in the towel' when I sense him ease off, so I put everything into a final thrust, and he's beaten.

"Yes!" I pump the air and then massage my aching arm and shoulder. I raise both eyebrows, incline my head to one side and give him an open-palm gesture towards his jeans; all of which say, `OK, you lose; take them off'.

"Oh, well. It's nothing you haven't seen before," he shrugs. He stands up and drops them. The sudden freedom that his cock experiences causes it to expand and rise to horizontal.

He smirks. "Two out of three!" It's not a question. He settles himself back down with arm at the ready.

I know that this time I'm going to lose, whether he beats me or whether I just yield intentionally.

I resist enough so that we are both sweating. Ultimately, when I sense some despair in his strength and body language, I allow him to get the better of me this time.

I feel my already-plumped-up cock stiffen in anticipation of what will follow. Standing up, I release one corner of the towel and leave it hanging on my hard peg.

Marty reaches for the towel and pulls it slowly to one side across my cock until gravity does the rest and Junior jumps free. "Now what? We need a decider," I suggest, trying to appear to be ignoring our highly aroused states as best as I can.

"On the cow skin," Marty replies, indicating the rug in the middle of the living room. "Full body wrestling. First to pin the other's shoulders on the ground for three seconds will be the champion."

"What's the prize?" I ask playfully.

"Winner's choice. Anything goes. OK?" I nod my agreement and smile because I haven't let on to Marty that I used to wrestle a bit at college. Nothing serious, but I did learn a few moves.

Although we are both sweaty, Marty suggests using a bit of oil as well, `just to make it a bit more interesting'. He retrieves a bottle of cooking oil from a cupboard, pours some into his hands and smears it on his chest, abdomen and legs. And then he gives his cock a quick lubrication as well.

I take the bottle and do likewise. I pour a little more into my hand and spread it down his back and across his butt cheeks. I hand him the oil and turn my back to him. His touch, as he rubs my back, is exciting.

I think of Will and wish that it was his hands rubbing me. However, I feel different with Marty. There is not the guilt that I have experienced playing around with Will or in touching the twins. This is just plain sexy fun.

Marty kneels, upright, on the cowskin and I assume a position facing him.

I follow Marty's lead and copy what he does as he runs a hand across my chest and shoulders. He cups one hand behind my neck and then slides his other hand around my erection, giving it a few firm and playful pumps. It's obvious that this is more about the impending sex than about wrestling, which has just been Marty's contrived way of initiating some tentative foreplay.

Be that as it may, I want to pin him, to prove a point. Bragging rights!

It doesn't begin as a contest - more like mutual massage and body exploration, helping to spread the oil all around. However, when Marty tries to catch me off guard and push me over sideways, it's on!

He flops on top of me, thinking that he's about to win straight up. Despite enjoying the feel of his body and erection pressed against me, I lift my knees and push up with my pelvis, rolling him over my head. He looks surprised.

I stand up and he comes at me with a bear hug, gripping me low and lifting me high. As he lets me slide slowly down his oiled body, his cock slips between my thighs under my balls and he takes the opportunity for a few pelvic thrusts.

While he's enjoying himself, I bring my hands up under his arms, pushing out and releasing his grip. I spin him around into a full Nelson. My sausage now is firmly wedged up the length of his crack and I enjoy a few thrusts of my own. We both laugh.

He crouches tightly, forcing me to release him and roll over him.

With me on my back and Marty at my head, he puts both knees on my shoulders. I can either push him off or let him win. His pendulous, bull-like balls are suspended directly above my face. I lift my head and give them a lick. He becomes motionless, relaxes and moans.

I let my entire body loosen up and he knows that he's won.

But, rather than celebrating because he knows that I've purposely let him triumph, he simply leans forward, licks my nipples and moves lower to my navel, then follows my wispy treasure trail downwards.

"Winner's choice," he reminds me. He begins to copy what he did at the dinner table, sucking the sausage in and out, and takes my meat directly into his mouth.

The sensation is electric and my cock stiffens to maximum rigidity. With one hand, he pushes his own cock towards my mouth and I oblige. Fuck, how I would love to do this with Will!

We roll onto our sides and while we passionately exercise our mouths and tongues, we use our free hands to explore each other's body - pecs, nipples, abs and glutes. We even brush over each other's hole.

We continue to enjoy each other until I feel the tension build quite suddenly. I pull my mouth off him for a moment and warn him, then suck him back in. He keeps sucking. I don't know who comes first, but we both end up with a mouthful.

What an orgasm!

And what a load! Do I swallow or spit? Marty rolls off me and I can see my abundance of cum escaping from his mouth onto his chin. He simply opens his mouth and lets the rest run out - over his chin and onto his chest. I watch as it streaks its way lower. Very hot.

I copy his dribbling.

"Shower?" Marty asks, without commenting on the sex.

We come down from our highs by holding and washing each other all over, very thoroughly.

"Want to sleep with me?" he asks straightforwardly. I can't believe his lack of inhibition! Now how do I decline without appearing to reject his offer outright? I want to reserve what I think that Marty has in mind to share with Will.

"I'd like to Marty, but I'm not ready for anything further... just yet. I hope you understand." He nods, smiles and simply expresses that it was a long shot.

Then I add, "...but I might be happy to see what that feels like some other time."

I encourage him to think that us `doing it' might eventuate while, at the same time, conveying to him my relative inexperience. He appears satisfied with that.

He gives me a hug and pats me a few times on the backside. "Very nice," is all that he says.

As I lie in bed, pondering what has just happened with Marty and how much I enjoyed the release, I mentally compare him and Will.

Marty is a very youthful man and Will is quite a manly youth - nice balance, eh? Both are fun to be with.

Marty is self-assured; Will needs assurance.

Marty is comfortable; Will needs comforting.

Marty has a mischievous sense of humour. Will is easily humoured.

The two of them are extremely well built and both obviously enjoy being sexual with me, as I certainly do with them.

I want more with both of them. However, I perceive Marty as a passing, but exciting, dalliance; I foresee Will as long-term - very long-term!

 

It's Saturday morning and I am in my usual place, at my desk, preparing the lessons for the ensuing week. I glance out through the western windows and watch as Will makes his way, almost skipping and capering, from the twins' place across to the school. He slows down to walk along the verandah.

As he approaches the door I call, "Come in, buddy."

It is obvious from the grin on Will's face that my next question will be superfluous. "So, did you get lucky?" He is about to open his mouth and answer, but I stop him. "Stupid question! Let me just put it another way... how lucky did you get? Can you tell me? Or not?"

He pauses. "Tom, you know about house rules," is all he says while looking directly into my eyes.

I can tell from his smirk that he is toying with me, just waiting for a reaction, maybe for me to beg him to tell me.

He really does want to tell me about his fun with Karl and Kurt. It's obvious.

I think to myself, `Two can play mind games, you cheeky smart arse!' So, I reply, "OK. No problem. I respect that."

I look at him, wink, pick up some books and stand up to go into the store room. He's almost bursting with excitement, yet he's suffering torment because he knows that it's his `duty' not to divulge anything.

"BUT... the guys won't mind if I do tell you, Tom."

I up the ante. "No, Will. I wouldn't want you to break a confidence. Secrets are important, right? Like you and me."

I walk into the store room.

He follows closely behind me, stops at the door and blurts, "BUT... you already know what we do. You've seen us at the weir and you even mucked around with us."

"Will, that was then. It doesn't entitle me to the privilege of knowing each and every private thing that you and Karl and Kurt do when you're alone. You have to think of them too."

The smirk drains from his face and leaves him looking seriously downcast, almost guilty. Shit! This is not what I intended. I feel like a real heel. I have to fix this, quickly.

"Will, buddy, come here." I motion him towards me. He takes a step and I move to meet him half way. I wrap my arms around him - one over his shoulder and the other under his opposite arm and around his back. He slowly slides his arms around me. Despite the fact that we are now the same height, Will rests his head on my shoulder, nuzzles into my neck and whispers a heart-felt apology.

Playing dumb, I ask, with feigned innocence, "Will, do I sense that you actually want to tell me what you guys did together?"

"Uh-huh," he nods quietly, lifting his head to lock his eyes on mine. His desire melts my attempted stoicism.

"Was it as good as you hoped it would be?"

"Better!" he smiles weakly.

"You do know that if you had Karl and Kurt's permission to tell me about last night, I'd be more than happy to listen."

"Really?" He is quickly regaining his earlier perkiness.

"But I'm not sure they would understand exactly why you might want to talk to me about it. Wouldn't that make them suspicious about you and me?" I put to him.

"Nah! I don't think so Tom. I've steered their thoughts down a different path. I've mentioned that I `secretly' found out that you have a girl friend at home and that the four of us mucking around in the weir must have been just fun and guy stuff. I haven't even told them about Jake and me. I tell them that whatever I talk to you about at home, good and bad stuff, that you listen to me and that you give me any advice that you think is appropriate.

I can tell that he's excited when he runs his sentences together and forgets to breathe.

"I tell you what, Will. If they say it's OK to `talk to me' about you and them - just `guy stuff', then I promise to listen and offer you any advice that I think you might need."

I wink at him hoping that he understands the excuse of seeking and giving of advice.

His smirk tells me that he twigs to my meaning then he suddenly takes off, running.

I step out onto the verandah and watch him rapidly retrace his steps to the twins' house.

He is only inside for less than a minute and, when I see him on his way back, I retreat inside. This time he doesn't slow down - he clatters along the verandah and bursts into the classroom, slightly breathless.

"OK. I have their permission," he pants.

"Will," I laugh, "I really didn't think that you would rush over there and actually ask their permission. What on earth did you say to them?"

"I just said that I wanted somebody's advice about what we did and, seeing that I don't have a dad to talk to, like them, would it be OK with them if I talked to you." He stops.

"And...?" I prod.

"And, they said that it was OK, because they know you will be cool about everything and won't say anything to their dad. And, they said that they definitely wouldn't be telling him either." Grin.

"So...?" I know that once he starts, it will be hard to stop him, and I really am keen to know why last night was better than Will had expected. "Just tell me whatever you want me to hear. I'm all ears."

"Well," he starts, "when we first went inside their place, Karl grabbed me and then ran off to hide. Of course, I ran after him. He was under the bed, so I reached under and scrunched him. Before I could get up again, Kurt did the same to me and hid in the bathroom. We spent a lot of time, chasing, grabbing and hiding."

"Then Karl suggested that every time somebody got `tagged', they had to take off a piece of clothing. Hell, I only had two shoes, two socks, underpants, shorts and my shirt. I wasn't going to last long with the two of them after me, was I? After I lost everything, I told them to be a little gentler in the balls department, or I'd get even, and that my grip is stronger than theirs. They took the hint and we just had a lot of fun."

"We put our undies on to have dinner and after we cleaned up, things got really exciting. Instead of running around the house, we agreed that we would just sit on Karl's bed and play with each other. I was in the middle. They both liked feeling all my hairs. They had to take it in turns to play with my cock and balls but I had one of them in each hand, just jerking them like I do to Jake. Haha. They copied, on me, what I was doing to them, and I suddenly felt the urge to spurt. I warned them, then let fly all over my chest and stomach, groaning and telling them how great it felt."

He continues, "I couldn't believe that they didn't know what had happened. They told me that they had never done that, or seen that, before. But they did tell me that sometimes lately each of them has woken up wet and sticky and they didn't know why. We talked about it and I asked them what they were dreaming of during the night and they both said playing with you and me in the weir."

"I reckoned that I could make them spunk, like I do to Jake... and you, haha. So, I just told them to relax and I would try to do for them what they had just done for me, and that they would really like it."

"Karl let me do him first. I jerked his fat cock up and down for a while and then spat on my hand and rubbed him with it. He closed his eyes and said that it felt terrific. Then he said, `Something's gonna happen but I don't know what. I think I'm gonna pee or something.' Then he let fly three strong spurts. He kept saying, `OMG. OMG. How fantastic!' Then Kurt was really anxious for me to do him too. He closed his eyes and kept pushing his cock into my hand, and came a lot faster that Karl did."

"I asked him what he was thinking about with his eyes closed. He said, `having Mr Grant feel my cock under the water.' He even said how great it would be if you were there too, so Karl could play with me and he could play with you. He even made up a game. Because you and I look so much alike he thought it would be fun if we sat opposite each other, like in a mirror, with Karl next to me and him next to you. He said that whatever Karl and I did, he and you would copy us exactly - pretending that it was us in the mirror."

"He told me, `When Karl grabs you, I would grab Mr Grant, and when you were doing that spunk thing to Karl, Mr Grant would do it to me, at the same time'."

I told them that you wouldn't do that. What happened at the weir was a one-time thing. Although... it would be hot, don't you think, Tom?"

I say to Will, "Thank you for sharing that, buddy. House rule. My lips are sealed. And yes, you did the right thing, telling them that the weir was a one-time thing. From what I've seen and heard, Kurt doesn't need any additional encouragement!"

We return to Marty's. Will does some painting. I catch up on my Harry Potter.

After dinner and `lights-out', with Marty in in his room, Will and I lie together in his bed. I'm spooned up to him. Our legs are bent, just like he's sitting in my lap, only we're horizontal. We chat softly about Karl and Kurt and `getting lucky' before we doze off, with Will wrapped in my arms.

In the morning, I wake up in my own bed, wet and sticky. Realising what has happened, I recall my dream - playing `mirrors' with the three naked boys, and I remember that it included much more than just grabbing and jacking off!

I recall snippets of my vision - Will sucking Karl; Karl lying on Will's back making thrusting movements with his pelvis along Will's backside; Will and Karl swapping places and repeating everything; Kurt and I mirroring their every move.

 

OMG! These boys are going to cause me significant problems!

 

(to be continued)

There is a parallel version to this story, told through the eyes of Kurt.
Find it at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/kurt-series/

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