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 27
As I think of what lies ahead tomorrow - seeing the guys at the beach, Will telling Amelia that he is gay and us re-visiting Jarrod at the Games shop, I feel tired, yet sleep doesn't come as easily for me as it does for Will. His regular, slow breathing indicates that he has already `dropped off'.
Many things run through my head - land, house, Karl & Kurt, Uncle Bill, Monika, Will's art, Will coming out to Amelia, guys at the beach, authorities arresting me, Chad the cop `fixing things for a price', Andy being abused, the mother's boyfriend, Mum's funeral, Jarrod, Sam, Marty, Kurt, cherubs.
Sweet dreams mixed with nightmares.
Am I awake or asleep?
Chapter 28 - Amelia Then Jarrod
I struggle to open my eyes. The conclusion to last night's wrestling match with Will, really took it out of me and finished me off. I don't think that I can go again with the guys at the beach today, besides, everything outside seems darker and gloomier than usual.
I am suddenly aware that I am cold. I've grown accustomed to the warmth and comfort of Will's body spooned up to me in the morning. I reach and feel for him, expectantly and hopefully, but he's not here.
I'm suddenly very awake. The bathroom door is open but there is no shower noise. There are no toilet noises either. He's gone!
I relieve my aching bladder, hurriedly pull on some clothes to go looking for him.
Much to my relief, he and Sis, Mum and Dad are all enjoying their breakfast, looking and sounding very chirpy - greatly at odds with how I'm feeling.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Mum laughs.
"He looks more like a troll, if you ask me," Amelia smirks, poking out her tongue.
"Yes, son. You look awful," Dad adds. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were suffering a massive hangover."
"Yeah, Tom," Will adds. "You had a really restless night. It was like you were in a cement mixer, or a washing machine, or riding in Marty's old truck, or..."
"OK, Will! Thanks! I get it!" My response is a little snappier than I had intended. Mum, Dad, Sis and, most of all, Will, all stop and stare at me, unaccustomed to this harsh tone from me.
"Are you OK, honey?" Mum asks.
I apologise. "Sorry, guys. I'm really sorry, Will! I guess I must have had a lot on my mind last night. So much has happened in the last week. Maybe my brain was just having trouble putting all the pieces together, and wouldn't let me rest until it was done."
I look at each of them in turn, and they nod in considered concurrence, given what they each know.
"Do you want to talk about it, son?" Dad asks
"No. It's OK. Really!"
Amelia comments to Mum and Dad specifically, but for Will's and my benefit too, "He's been acting really weird since he's been home. Even weirder than usual!"
I say nothing buy poke out the tip of my tongue to her. Then she adds, "Maybe he needs to see a shrink."
"I do not need a shrink, Sis!" I reply firmly. "I just need to settle a whole lot of new information in my head."
"Yeah! Exactly! I knew that's where the problem was!" she declares. Fully poked tongue!
This now has the potential to turn ugly. Will saves the day - again! "C'mon, Amelia," he encourages. "I'll give you that drawing lesson, if you want, while Tom catches up on breakfast. He'll be better with something in his stomach."
"Yeah!" she exclaims, jumping to her feet and then depositing her dishes into the sink.
I look at Will and raise my eyebrows, questioning whether he's ready for what he is going to tell her. He gives me a slight nod in acknowledgment, and stands to follow her to the sink and then up the stairs.
Dad rests his hand on my forearm. "What's really troubling you, son? I've never seen you like this before." Mum takes her dishes to the sink and runs the water to wash up, providing Dad and me with a measure of privacy.
"Dad, you've never seen me like this before because..., well, for a lot of reasons. My mind is just processing so much information. I've never had a brother before. I've never had two fathers before. I've never had my own land and house before. I've never told anyone that I was gay before. I've never been afraid of Mum dying before. I've never had the responsibility for the future of a bunch of kids before. And, on top of all of that, I've never been in love before!"
There's a few other `befores' that I have left out which Dad doesn't need to know about... Simon, Luke, Andy, Joey, Marty, Kurt...
"And, most of this has happened in just one week." I add.
"Son," Dad starts, "you know, most of the things that you've just mentioned are positives, but the one negative is also causing me great distress. Your mother seems to be taking her cancer much more calmly than I am. I think that you and I will need to be very strong for her, for each other and, also, for your sister."
Hugging me is something abnormal for him. But he does it. I feel his pain flow like a wave of negative energy between us. I've never, in my whole life, seen tears in his eyes, until now. He's right. I don't know how any of us is going to cope. And I will be so far away for the next 10 weeks!
"Hey, you two!" Mum interrupts. "Can we focus on the future prospect of us looking back on the miracle of me beating this thing? We all need to be positive."
"Mum, I want to be positive," I reply, "but it's hard when there is so much criticism of the effectiveness of chemotherapy, and, so much scepticism about any other treatment. Isn't there some middle-of-the-road course?" I ask.
"Thomas," Dad replies, "your mother and I have had this exact same conversation a hundred times. She firmly believes any good that the chemo may do, will be negated by its destructive effect on good tissue and her immune system. And any alternative treatment, while seeking to boost her body's own recuperative powers, may not address the spreading cancer soon enough."
"Well, we need to trust in something, instead of being negative about everything," Mum says, almost philosophically.
I add, "Yes, but how do we know what the correct `something' is?"
And so the conversation goes on for a few more minutes, until we hear hurried footsteps on the stairs. We all turn to look. Amelia heads for the front door and slams it loudly behind her as she leaves.
"What was that all about?" Dad asks, looking bewildered.
"I think I know," I say to them both, as Will slowly descends the staircase. He walks over to us and sits down dejectedly.
"Well, that didn't go as well as I had hoped," he says. "I didn't think that she would react like that."
I move behind him and massage his shoulders then, putting my arms around his neck, give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"You told her, didn't you?" Mum asks
"Everything was going so well! We were drawing and laughing. Then I asked her how she felt about Tom being gay. She answered, `No big deal. I have a friend with a gay brother and he's a really nice guy.' Then I said, `I'm glad you feel that way, Amelia, because I am gay too.' She stopped drawing, said, `What?', looked at me very strangely and just ran out.
"Don't worry, darling," Mum says, squeezing Will's arm and giving him a kiss. "I'll talk to her later. I suspect that she might have been thinking of you as a little more than her new-found cousin."
"She had a crush on him, you mean?" I ask. Mum nods.
"That's how it looked to me," she replies. "Maybe you have just short-circuited her fantasy, Will, darling."
"How could I not have seen that?" he asks, more I think, admonishing himself than seeking a definitive answer.
"She'll get over it," Mum continues. "Maybe she's jealous of you and Thomas being together, and seeing how happy you are around each other. I have some apple pie and cream left over from last night if you'd like a piece and a cup of coffee."
Will takes the bait.
I decline, and decide to have a quick look around the neighbourhood for Amelia. "Back shortly," I tell them.
Dad says that he must be off to work, leaving Mum and Will together. I'm sure that he'll appreciate a bit of motherly conversation. Real motherly conversation! I always did.
I go outside expecting to take a walk up or down the street - my guess would be towards the mall. However, I find Amelia, sheltered from the uncharacteristic Gold Coast drizzle, beneath the broad portico, sitting on the top step, clutching her knees to her chest. No sobbing. No wailing. No distressed rocking.
I sit down next to her and ask, with uncommon brotherly tenderness, "You OK, Sis?"
At first, she is silent. Then, sighing deeply, says, "Why didn't somebody tell me? Now I've made a real fool of myself!"
"What do you mean, you've made a fool of yourself? How?"
"I like him, Thomas. I really like him! He's fun to be with and he makes me laugh. And he's handsome, even though he looks like you." I detect a faint smirk on her face. I poke out my tongue in mock affront. "Why does he have to be gay?" she asks, heaving another very heavy sigh.
"Sis, he was gay when you met him and he's been gay all week, even when you were having fun with him. He enjoys being with you. You're not a threat to him and he's not a threat to you. Can't you just enjoy his company? He'll only be here for a few more days, and then we're heading back to The Village, to his home."
"But I was sort of hoping to, umm, kiss him and hoping that he'd kiss me back." Is she blushing?
"Go right ahead. You can't catch `gay germs', you know. He would probably appreciate it now, more than ever, to let him know that you're not rejecting him."
"Really?" she asks incredulously. "You think so?"
I just nod and hum in agreement, then add, "Hey! I really like him too. I know how you feel."
In typical female teenage manner, her mood changes in a flash. "Thanks, Thomas," she chirps, then turns and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Ewww!" she complains, wiping her lips. "Gay germs!" I give her a swat on the tail as she giggles off back into the house. I ease myself up off the steps and follow.
I enter just in time to see her throw her arms around Will and kiss him. Then, taking him by the hand, she says, "Come on! We have a drawing lesson to finish."
He is as compliant as a little puppy. He looks at me inquiringly as he passes. I simply give him a wink.
"What on earth did you say to her?" Mum asks.
"Oh, nothing much, just a little bit of brotherly TLC," I respond. "I've changed my mind; do you have any more of that apple pie, or did my voracious little brother eat the lot?"
When I next see Will and Amelia, they are both as happy as I've seen them all week.
Sis is eager to show Mum and me her drawings. I try to muster some enthusiasm as I reach for them. However, I am amazed at what I see. I look at them more carefully and can tell that Will has drawn the heads, with hair, ears and a nose on each one. Amelia has added the mouth, eyes and eyebrows.
The result is a set of faces with discernible expressions - `happy', `sad', `surprised' and `frightened'.
"Did you do these?" I ask her. She nods. "They're good. They're actually very good!" She's beaming.
"Thanks. He's a good teacher," she says and feeling a new freedom, throws her arms around him.
"And she's a great student," Will adds, reciprocating with a hug.
She's glowing.
"Hey. Can you teach me to draw too? You've made her better than I am, now!" I put to Will. Amelia giggles either at the compliment or in seeing me take a lesser position to her.
"Nah!" Will says, shaking his head. "She, at least, has some artistic talent." He pokes out his tongue and Amelia cracks up with laughter. He continues, "Anyway, two artists in the family is enough!"
I'm not sure which part of his statement to be insulted by, but I accept it all good naturedly."
"Besides," Will adds, "you have your own talents!"
I cannot believe that he has just said that in front of my sister and my mother! They both look at him then at me. There is a `pregnant pause' then he says, "You make great pancakes!" Everyone lets out their breath in nervous laughter, especially me!
Before we go to see Jarrod at the Games Shop, I think that I'll take Will to see some of the largest malls on the Gold Coast. One is so expansive under the one roof that it actually has street signs. It has more shops than everything in Big Town combined - many times the number, in fact. The clothing stores and hairdressers alone would collectively outnumber the total of Big Town's assorted shops.
After a less-than-ideal McDonald's lunch, hurriedly-eaten amid what seems like a hundred chatty mums with prams and wet umbrellas, ignoring a thousand squawking children, we decide to stroll, lemonade-in-hand.
It is easier to go with the pace of the hordes of sheep-like `shoppers'. Where one moves, the others follow - reminiscent of my encounter with the woolly mob on the way back from Jake's place to Marty's.
Will and I become sheep, stopping only to defy the masses outside the `odd' shop that catches Will's attention, or to regard some curiosity. We see over-priced suits, useless knick-knacks, flamboyant hairdressers, Facebook-obsessed shop assistants, custard tarts and other tempting carbohydrate-only delicacies.
We do, however, spend considerable time discussing mobile phones and tablets in the retail outlets of three different telecom service providers. Advantages. Issues. Features. Costs. I progressively narrow our options in terms of functionality and value. We have a few days remaining to negotiate prices before we have to leave, so I don't rush into any of their offered `today-only' special deals.
Late afternoon finds us back at our local mall. I suggest to Will that he go to check out the games while I seek to compare any comms packages against those which we had seen earlier.
While I am sure that he really wants some games, they're not the only attraction in that shop! I cut him some slack, to simply `be himself' without any `supervision'. He smiles and says, "Thanks, bro!"
I tell him which shops that I intend to visit and that I'll catch up with him when I'm finished.
I enter the first telco shop with my `short list' of requirements. I leave confused; the customer `service' person's `better alternatives' still playing with my head.
The second shop gives me no satisfaction either. While the sales guy agrees with most of what was on my original list, when I put alternatives to him, he is able to offer no clarification one way or the other, for or against.
Then I think, `why have I not asked Uncle Bill?' If he doesn't know, he'll know somebody who does! And I'll bet that it's a female. I inwardly snigger.
I thank the salesman for his time (not for his `expertise') and leave. I bump into Will. He's not looking overly happy.
"Hey, what's up? I thought that you were going to spend some time with Jarrod talking about games that you could play."
He looks at me and knows that there was a hint of double meaning, but just matter-of-factly replies, "He was happy to see me, but the shop was full of customers. He asked if I could come back about 30 minutes prior to closing time because it is usually pretty quiet by then. He said that, in the meantime, when he has the opportunity, he will load some games onto one of the shop's systems so that he can demonstrate, rather than show me the packaging and just tell me about them."
We find a coffee shop. Will surprises me by ordering a strawberry milkshake instead of coffee to go with his custard tart. Then I stun him by requesting one of their oversized vanilla slices (it's still custard!) plus a mocha.
"Full of surprises, aren't you?" he grins at me.
I reply with a very suggestive, "Hey, I know what I like but a bit of variety can be fun too."
"But only to a point, right?" he asks, tuned in to what I was thinking.
"Right on, bro!" I reply. "Especially if his name is Jarrod!"
Will laughs. "There's not much he can do in a shop, you know," he answers.
"That would depend on whether he's in the shop or in the storeroom, and also on what the security cameras can see."
"Security cameras?" Will asks.
"Yes," I reply. "Didn't you see them? One above the door and one above the main counter? The little blue domes on the ceiling?"
"What? The things that look like half of a plastic ball?"
"Yes, that's them." (I know that I should have said, `that is they' but who talks like that, really?)
"I wondered what they were."
"They're video cameras that record everything that they can see. The two that Jarrod has in there can scan most, if not all, of the shop."
Will concentrates on his custard tart and I can see that he is thinking. Hopefully he has taken the warning not to do anything with Jarrod that he doesn't want the security people to see.
I phone Uncle Bill and explain my comms dilemma, and reiterate our needs.
"No problem, Thomas. Leave it with me," he says.
It's one of those moments when I truly appreciate his experience and a non-humorous response. Not that they have been common!
We manage to fill in the time and I notice the `crowd' thinning considerably. Soon Will and I probably comprise almost 50% of the number of people remaining. I say to Will, "I'll come and say hello to Jarrod then I'll leave you two to talk for about 15 minutes or so before coming back to pay for whatever you've chosen."
He smirks.
Jarrod smiles politely and shakes my hand. He brightens when I tell him that I'm not staying, but will return later to complete his final sale for the day.
He flips over the `Open' sign to `Closed' and tells me that he will leave the sliding door closed but not locked so that I can let myself in. He also points out the knee-high electronic beam that will trigger a loud `beep' when I re-enter, so that I (meaning, they) won't be startled.
He shows me where he has the games set up to demonstrate to Will and for him to try them out. They are behind a narrow partition adjacent to the counter that screens off a small back section of the shop. I can tell that it is obviously not covered by the security camera above the counter, and wonder whether the one at the front door can `see' it.
As I leave, I stand directly below the front-door camera, turn to them both and say, "Back in 15 or 20." I walk outside and across the shop front and cannot see the computer area, even though the back corner is now partially visible.
So, there is a small `black spot', a `private space', eh? I'm sure that Jarrod intends exploiting it well, judging by the considerable lump that I saw in his pants. The young schemer! He's as bad as Will!
After only 5 minutes, another quick lap of the closed and closing shops, I return to the Games shop. I stand outside and peer in. From no angle can I see anyone. I think, `should I alert them, or not?'
`Not' wins. I silently slide the door open enough to enter, step over the beam then close the door fully.
I pick a game from the shelf so that on the security video it may appear that I want to make a purchase. I move silently towards the desk when a movement on the opposite wall catches my eye. When I look towards it, I see a 30cm strip of floor-to-ceiling mirror between two display cabinets. Reflected in it are Jarrod and Will.
Will is holding a game controller in both hands with Jarrod looking over his shoulder. I can hear Jarrod giving him instructions. Hmmm. Innocent enough!
Then he says, "Keep holding the controls and I'll help you to get the hang of it." He reaches around Will with both arms, placing his hands over Will's.
In doing so, he leans his body against Will's back. Will doesn't flinch, even though it's obvious, to me, that Jarrod would have his now-hard `lump' firmly against Will's backside.
Then their hands and bodies move as one, sync'd to the game. There is some noticeable rocking and swaying, but their bodies never part. I can tell by the way Jarrod occasionally leans his head back and closes his eyes, that he is being thrilled by this closeness, and by Will's compliance.
Jarrod says, "Do you reckon you can do this hand by yourself, now?"
Will grunts out a `yep'.
I see Jarrod slide his hand off one of Will's, up his arm, rest it momentarily on his shoulder before continuing slowly and deliberately down Will's side, before resting it on his hip.
Will remains focussed on the game. Jarrod's hand `slips' to Will's thigh, first at the side and then to the front, and continues across the front of Will's trousers. Will doesn't react at all. Jarrod takes this as approval of his touch and begins to manipulate the alternative game control stick - Will's hard-on.
"This game is really good," Will sniggers.
"Glad you like it!" Jarrod replies. Then, gaining confidence, I see him take down Will's zipper. Still no reaction. He inserts his fingers.
Their eyes remain focussed on the screen, as if they were unaware of, or ignoring, what was happening `down below'. They haven't detected my presence either - too engrossed in something else!
Will says, "Can you take over this hand again? I need to rest my fingers."
Jarrod takes his hand out of Will's pants and takes hold of the controller. Will takes the opportunity with his unoccupied hand to fish out his stiffness and let it poke free. Then he reaches behind him and places his hand between him and Jarrod, with his palm on Jarrod's `lump', and begins to give it a good massage.
"Let me try the controls on my own," Will soon says, thereby intentionally freeing up both of Jarrod's hands.
"Great!" Jarrod replies. He firstly feels for Will's cock. Then, finding it `on the loose' and taking this as a signal and invitation from Will, uses both hands to quickly free his own. I see a seemingly thick sausage emerge. He gives it a couple of quick jerks to stretch it out and returns one hand to Will's.
"How long do we have before your brother comes back?" Jarrod asks huskily in Will's ear.
"I don't know," Will replies. "Maybe 10 minutes. Maybe more. He puts the controller down and turns to face Jarrod. They each take hold of the other's `meaty' game stick and begin to play in earnest.
While they are distracted, ogling and fondling each other, I back off towards the door. I wait a few moments and hear some contented groaning. I want to alert them to my return, but I also want to catch them `in the act' as well. Haha.
I intentionally trigger the beam and then step quickly to the back of the shop, in time to see Jarrod struggling to his feet, a strand of saliva and precum still connecting his mouth to Will's cock. Such is his terror and focus on me that Jarrod forgets that his own is sticking out.
"Now that looks like an interesting game, guys," I say, stepping across to them. "But it looks like a hard one to me." I grasp Jarrod's thick, hairy piece of steel and give it a friendly tug, or two, or three. It is only at this moment, looking down, that he seems to realise his exposure and predicament.
With a face that blushes through all the shades on the red sector of the colour wheel he stammers, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Tom. Please don't tell anyone. Please. I'll lose my job and my dad will kill me and my friends will ..."
"Whoa, Jarrod!" I say consolingly. "No harm done! Take it easy! My dear little brother has been looking forward to seeing you again for days. I think he was hoping for something like this. And, I was kind of expecting it too, especially after seeing how quickly your pants both started to bulge the other day when you were flirting with each other. You should have seen Will's face light up when I told him that I'd leave you two alone for a while. Yours too! As we say, `what happens in private, stays private!' Is that OK with you? You don't tell: we don't tell."
"Really? Yes. Thank you," he says, relaxing noticeably. Then he looks down at my hand, still gently squeezing his cock, and at Will's dripping member. Will reaches for Jarrod's balls and gives them a little jiggle, and smiles.
"So...," I say to him, "...would you like to finish the blowjob that you started on him?"
"Yes," he replies coyly, smiling at Will and reaching for his cock.
"Hell, Yeah!" Will replies.
"One condition," I put to Jarrod. "When he blows, I want to see you swallow it. Then you let him do you."
He nods.
"Then, after that," I smirk, "you have to do me too."
He looks at me as though I'm Santa Claus!
"You're OK with all of that?" he asks incredulously, trying to contain his excitement.
"Hey, we're only here for a couple of more days. Who knows when you'll get another chance!" I smile wickedly at him, "Or us!"
I reach for an office chair that is standing close by, and suggest that he'll be more comfortable sitting instead of kneeling. "Thanks," he says and sits, legs apart, `flag' flying straight up. Will moves in close between Jarrod's thighs and feeds his meat back into his waiting and eager mouth.
I decide to turn up the heat. I move in behind Will and he allows me to undo everything to enable his pants to drop to the floor. Then, I lower his undies, giving Jarrod total visibility of, and access to, Will's naked lower body.
Jarrod instinctively reaches for Will's butt cheeks and pulls him in close as he suckles on him. Will plays with Jarrod's hair, giving him a scalp massage.
I move around behind Jarrod and begin to unbutton his shirt, slowly, from the top down, revealing a thick mat of light brown hair. On my way down, I cup and fondle his pecs and gently squeeze his nipples. He pauses his action on Will momentarily to savour my touch.
With his shirt fully open, I continue to play with his hair, pecs, nipples and abs. He begins, what sounds like, purring. He allows me to remove his shirt.
Will begins thrusting. Jarrod appears to be handling it well. He pulls off Will, takes a deep breath then slides back down on Will's pole. Will's breathing rate increases. I know the signs - he's close. "Look out," he tells Jarrod, then freezes as his cock explodes and spasms. Jarrod spills not a drop and gently milks him dry, with the aid of his fingers, from the balls up.
I can see that Jarrod has produced a copious amount of precum that has enveloped his cock and flowed down to his balls, saved from spilling onto the floor by his hairiness.
I offer to lick him clean and Will cuts me off, "Oh, no you don't! That's mine! Swap places Jarrod." The guys exchange places and Will, from his seated position gets to work, licking and sucking the sweet nectar from Jarrod's body and out of his hairs. "Yum," he croons. "You taste good!"
Jarrod moves in close, between Will's legs and he, too, allows me to release his black trousers, then his sexy red jock strap. He is one hairy young dude! I see Will's eyes widen at Jarrod's total nudity.
I'm so horny now that I need to have some of this action. I move behind Jarrod, drop my gear, rest my pole into his crack, grip his hips and begin a few sliding movements. My own precum soon slicks up his hairy cheeks.
"Hey, you're not going to fuck me, are you?" he says somewhat apprehensively. "I'm still a virgin back there."
Will pulls his mouth off Jarrod's thick pole and responds with, "He'd better not! He's only allowed to do that to me." Then, realising the implications of what he has just said and revealed, says, "Oops!" and goes back down on Jarrod.
Jarrod laughs, "So, you two brothers are also fuck buddies, eh? That is so hot!"
"Ever done it with anyone?" I ask, enjoying my slide up and down his crack.
"Nah, tried it with a girl once at a friend's party when I was thirteen. It freaked me out. After that I knew that I was gay. And I haven't found anyone else willing to play with me and teach me how to do it properly, so I just look at porn and jack off."
"Hey," Will butts in. `Stop thinking about that girl. You're going soft! Think about this..." And with that, Will manages to swallow all of him.
"OMG," Jarrod cries. "That feels fantastic. Do it again." Will complies, multiple times, then he starts humming and Jarrod squeals. I can feel the vibrations from Will's voice all way through Jarrod's body. Did I teach him that? "Fuck. What are you doing in there? That's sooo amaz..." He doesn't finish. He rapidly starts pumping then freezes. He spasms.
Will almost manages all of it. Some sneaks past Jarrod's thick plug in Will's mouth and leaks out.
I reach down and scoop it with one finger then suck it in. "Nice," I say. "Next time, I'd like it direct!"
Jarrod giggles, "Next time?"
I hug Jarrod's body back against me while Will cleans him up, then I reach for, and play with, his gear - jiggling his balls and squeezing his slackening cock.
"Righto!" Will says to Jarrod. "Let's see you do the big brother!" He corrects himself, "I mean older, not bigger!" and he laughs at his own joke.
Jarrod sits and I move in close. He wraps his legs around mine, grips my butt cheeks and pulls me into his mouth. I decide to give him a couple of lessons. "Lick my balls first." He does. "Lick up my shaft and around my head." He does. "Hold my cock with one hand and pull down towards my body - it makes my cock head really tight and sensitive. Now suck." He does. "Wow, that is so good! He repeats everything until... I groan. I moan. I spurt.
"You're good!" I compliment him. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
"Only a few times with a high school friend. I don't see him any more since he went to uni." Then he says, "We'd better get dressed and I'll close up before the security guard does his rounds."
I ask Will, "Did you get to see and play enough games? Do you know what you want to buy?"
"Can we have HIM?" he says to me, giving Jarrod a squeeze on the bum. Jarrod and I both look at him. "Only joking!" he adds, laughing.
I wonder!
I ask, "Are you in tomorrow, Jarrod?"
"Yes," he replies, "but there will be other staff here too, a girl," implying that he'd like to do more with us, or just Will, but won't have the opportunity. [check the days of the week here]
"I tell you what..." I say, thinking quickly. "We'll both be busy all day tomorrow. Is there any chance that you can make up a bundle of stuff for us - console, plus an extra controller and half a dozen games?"
"Yes. No problem!" he replies.
"And if you have any maths or reading games, I'll have some of them too."
"Sure!"
"Can you take a credit card over the phone?"
"Yes, why?"
"Ring me tomorrow when you have a list of everything and the final cost. We'll talk and I'll give you the details then."
"OK. Thanks."
Then I look directly at Will when I ask Jarrod the next question. "Is there any chance that you might be able to drop everything off at my place after work, and show us how to set it all up, and make sure that we know how to play everything?"
I smile. Will smirks. Jarrod mentally processes my request, grins broadly then says with enthusiasm, "Sure thing!"
To ensure that he gets the message, I add, "One of us, or both, may need some extra personal assistance. Oh, and I have a very private attic room." I give him my address and mobile phone number.
"Thank you so much, for everything," he says, and hugs us both.
Dressed respectably again, we all leave with smiles on our faces.
(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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