Date: Sat, 10 Jan 2009 12:20:00 -0800 (PST) From: John Venn Subject: Tom Brown's Schoolboy Part 3 of 3 Disclaimer: This story contains scenes of a sexual nature between two boys, and a man & boy. If this is not to your taste, or is illegal where you live, or you find it morally offensive, then read no further and leave now! The story is purely imaginary and bears no resemblance to any living person or persons as far as I know, much as you or I might wish Comments are always welcome at johnvenn1945 ***************************************************************** Part 3 of 3 Chapter Twelve. As the days went by, Billy grew more and more comfortable with Tom and they built up a close friendship, not only because they had good sex together, but also oddly enough they actually liked each other and enjoyed being in each other's company. In fact, after two months had flown by, Billy had stopped seeing Tim altogether, apart from the odd occasion when Tim almost demanded they had some sex fun together. It was OK, but wasn't the same as he did with Tom somehow, just a hurried wank or quick jerk-off and that was it. Billy was secretly pleased when he noticed Tim had a new friend from school, a boy he knew slightly from one of his classes. From then on, he hardly ever saw Tim without his friend; whether they did 'it' together or not, Billy didn't care - but he hoped they did. Tom and he met at his house almost everyday, eventually coming to a sort of unwritten agreement in that Billy actually did school work at least three times a week, if only for half an hour, and as a result he started to use his brain and at Christmas was moved up a class. Tom was even congratulated by the other teachers on the remarkable improvement he'd obtained with Billy, ands was frequently asked how he managed to motivate him so well. He said he'd no idea, just hard work Billy's home life didn't improve any, in fact it got worse if anything. Slowly his mother realised he was spending less and less time in the house, and more time 'out playing' somewhere or other - not that she cared very much. He stopped going to see his father, much to his relief as he'd always considered the kid an encumbrance anyway, the regular Saturday visit seriously intruding on his so-called social life.. After a lot of thought, Tom offered to pay Billy for doing odd jobs around the house at week-ends, cleaning the car, doing the garden and so on. He liked having the lad around and knew the money would come in useful as well as having a reason to get out of the house for a time. Billy, knowing exactly what would happen if his mother found out he had money, no matter where from, took great care to keep it hidden in his locker at school. The first thing he did when he got paid was to go out and buy Tom a present, only a new pen, but it was given and accepted with a growing love the two were building up. The next thing he wanted to do with his money needed Tom's help - he wanted some new, clean underwear. Tom gladly went out to buy it for him, without Billy, imagining what would happen if anyone saw them together buying underwear It was after Christmas, and before school re-started for the Spring Term that disaster almost struck One Saturday after Billy had finished weeding the garden, they'd gone out and had a beefburger and Chips as they sometimes did, when walking back home they met Billy's mother and her current man-friend. She seemed to be sober for once and, feeling extremely frightened, Billy had nop choice but to introduce her to Tom. "You remember mum, he's my teacher from school, helping me with my homework." With an immense effort she vaguely remembered Billy mentioning it once, and smiled vacantly as she said, "Hello. Thanks for 'elping 'im." "That's alright," Tom said, every bit as nervous as Billy. "He's doing well." "That's good, 'cause he's as thick as pigshit and needs all the 'elp he can get!", she replied, laughing, but meaning it at the same time. "Well, he's not too bad," Tom answered carefully. There was an awkward silence for a minute or two as the conversation died, both sides feeling they aught to say something but not knowing what. Tom decided to mention something which he had been thinking about ever since Billy brought it up during one of their conversations in bed one night. "Would you mind if Billy came to my house sometimes at week-ends to help with the garden and so on. I would really appreciate it as there is too much for me to do by myself." Without a seconds thought, Billy's mother replied that she thought it was a great idea, and did it mean he would be there all day? Sensing immediately that it would suit her admirably if he was, Tom replied that it probably would. You could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she imagined how much better for her it would be knowing Billy was out of the house for the entire day. "Yeah, that's OK, it'll keep him out of fu .... err ... trouble anyway." Billy's mother now seemed anxious to get away home with her bored and impatient companion, so they said a quick goodbye and went their own ways, Billy walking away with Tom after telling his mother he wouldn't be home 'till later that night. Uppermost in his mind was that he could now visit with Tom all week-end, officially. The arrangement worked perfectly, Billy skipping out of the house as soon as he could in the morning, almost beating Tom out of bed most times. His mother became used to Billy being away for the day and soon found her time otherwise occupied and was just as keen as Billy was for him to get away. One particular Saturday about six weeks after he'd started going round to work with Tom, Billy woke up feeling especially horny for some reason or other and even had an expectant hard-on before leaving home to go and see Tom. Deciding not to do anything about it himself, he rushed to get out and see if Tom would help him take care of it. As he was searching for his clothes, he was thinking how brilliant it would be if he could actually spend the whole week-end with Tom, including the night-time. An idea began to form in his mind. Could he dare? What would she say? What sort of mood is she in? He knew she was hung-over, the empty scotch bottle on the table testified to that. But was she in a bad mood? "Mum?" he started tentatively. "Yeah?" she answered flatly. "We're decorating Mr. Brown's kitchen this week-end, and probably won't be finished until tomorrow. Do you think I could stay at his house tonight, 'cause I'd only have to go back early tomorrow and finish off, and I'll be covered in paint and stuff anyway." Her eyes stared blankly into space as she slowly absorbed what Billy had just said. "Stay all night?" she queried, he voice flat and monotonous. "Yeah," Billy answered, completely unable to guess what she was thinking and assuming he'd blown it. As the light dawned, it struck here that for the first time in years she would be alone in the flat all night, without Billy being here to ruin things for her. "Yeah, I suppose so," she drawled, "But don't come back here at some god-forsaken hour of the night and expected me to get out of fuckin' bed to let you in, 'cause I won't." Billy's erection suddenly got harder, and with the greatest difficulty hid his excitement. Ignoring her last comment, he simply said, "Thanks, mum. I'll see you tomorrow, then." "Yeah. Whatever," she replied, the conversation already forgotten. Billy raced to Tom's house in record time with the good news. As Tom opened the front door, he was besieged by a very excited Billy, who hugged him tightly almost before the door was closed. "Got some brilliant news for you!" Billy gasped out, kissing his man on the cheek. "What?" Tom laughed, picking the youngster up and spinning him round, pleased to see him in such a good mood so early in the day for a change. "I'm staying the night! All night. Just me and you!" he laughed. It took a moment for this to sink in. Then he became serious as he realised what Billy had said to him. "Staying the night? But how? Why?" Tom listened as Billy explained his idea about decorating and how his mother had agreed to his staying with Tom for the night. He took some convincing that she'd actually agreed to let Billy stay, but once he thought about it, and against his better judgment in some ways, agreed that Billy could stop. Tom sighed inwardly as he realised that the boy's mother cared even less about his welfare and safety than he thought. Ten minutes later when they were seated on the sofa, with Billy settled as usual in his lap, Tom said, as gently as he could that he didn't mind Billy stopping the night sometimes, but next time could he please ask first! "After all," he added, "I might've been going out, or be having friends round." It hadn't occurred to Billy that Tom might have a social life of his own, or even had friends other than himself. He took this new thought on board and apologised as much as he could for being selfish and thoughtless. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't think." "That's OK, just this once, but please make sure you ask the next time." Billy grinned, 'the next time' was all he heard, and that was enough. He nestled down on his lap, hugged Tom gently and relaxed - it was going to be a fantastic week-end. "Can I do something?" Billy asked after a while. "What?" Tom said, looking lovingly at the boy. "Can I get dressed up in my best clothes and pretend I live here?" he said, wistfully. Tom felt desperately sorry for the lad, what he was asking for in a round-about way was what almost every other youngster takes for granted, a warm, caring home and a family, if only for the week-end. "Yes, of course. I think it's a brilliant idea, I'd like that too." Together, they went upstairs to the wardrobe where Tom kept a spare set of Billy's 'best clothes', the uniform he'd salvaged from the school lost property, and his new underwear. He was laying them out on the chair when he was brought to a sudden stop. "Wait!" Billy, said, "I'm not ready yet." Bemused, Tom watched as Billy rapidly stripped off, kicked his discarded clothes under the bed where they wouldn't be seen, and climbed into bed. Tom, dropping into his unexpected role as his father, left the room for a moment more than willing to play along. A minute or two later, he tapped on the door and entered his bedroom. Billy was laying in bed eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. Tom went across shook him awake. "Good morning, Billy!" he said, "Time to get up." Rubbing his eyes and pretending to yawn, he tumbled out of bed, stark naked, and for once without an erection. "I gotta have a shower," he said seriously. Tom wrapped a towel round him and led him to the bathroom. Much to his surprise, Billy stopped at the bathroom door and pushed Tom away gently. "Thanks. I can manage by myself from here." Now that was unusual, Tom mused, he enjoys showering together; he really is serious about this week-end. Shrugging his shoulders, he went downstairs and prepared a late breakfast for them of bacon sandwiches and tea. Fifteen minutes later, Billy came downstairs, dressed in his white shirt and black trousers, freshly scrubbed and hair combed for once. There was even a slight odour of deodorant, Tom noticed amusedly. Tom took a long look at the new, shining, Billy, feeling a lump grow in his throat. He really is handsome when he is given the chance, Tom thought, a really good-looking young man, someone any normal person would be proud of . How is it humanly possible for anyone to treat him like........... his somewhat morbid thoughts were interrupted. "Morning, Dad," the youngster said, looking sideways at Tom to see how he reacted. "Morning, son," he said. "Sleep well?" "Yes, thank you." he replied formally, pleased that Tom hadn't taken the piss out of him and was obviously willing that the game continue. He sat down to eat, acting the part perfectly. Once the meal was finished and the clearing-up out of the way, the pair retired to the living room. Tom sat in his usual easy-chair, Billy sprawled out on the floor watching the Saturday morning cartoons on tv. Despite the two shocks he'd had today so far, Tom was amazingly calm all things considered, in fact he was really starting to enjoy the game. 'This isn't a game,' he startled himself by thinking, 'not to Billy anyway.' Looking round the room, it was amazing how Billy seemed to fit into it, not only the room in fact, but the whole house, it seemed to come alive whenever he was around. "I think you should have a new name," Tom said to the youngster laying on his carpet. Billy turned over, staring at Tom. He hadn't thought of that - he'd always been called 'Billy' and it had never occurred to him to change it. But now it just seemed the right thing to do. "Yes, I'd like that." He thought deeply for a couple of minutes before saying, "I like Tom, but we can't have two Toms, can we?" he giggled. "Do you have a middle name?" "Err, yes, I do as a matter of fact." "Well?" "It's James." "Brilliant! I like that!" From now on, I'm James. Not Jimmy or Jim though I don't like those, it's got to be James." "Fine, James it is then. Welcome home, James." Billy, now called James, leapt up from the floor and jumped into Tom's lap, wrapping his arms round him. He kissed him on the cheek lightly at first and then more passionately. "Can I call you 'Dad' when we're alone?" he whispered. "Yes, I'd like that," Tom said, hoping fervently that the lad wouldn't forget and call him dad at the wrong time - that could be a little embarrassing James remained on Tom's lap for another hour or so, for once actually keeping his hands to himself apart from a hug once in a while, accompanied by a broad grin, thoroughly enjoying himself. "How would it be if we went out in the car to do some shopping, son?" Tom asked James. "Not here, but in another town where nobody knows us." "Excellent!" James cried out, "Can we, honestly?" "Yes, I don't see why not." An hour later they were wandering down the High Street window-shopping when Tom noticed James had slipped his hand into his and was holding on tightly. They smiled conspiratorially at each other. "Let's do some shopping!" Tom said brightly. "I think my son needs some new clothes." James stopped suddenly, open mouthed. "Really?" he gasped. "Yep. Come on, let's go and explore." They hit the nearest department store and spent a glorious hour sorting out two sports shirts and two pairs of jeans for him, one set of which he insisted on wearing. James even insisted that Tom bought a matching shirt for himself, which he had to put on as well. The shopping was completed when James, using his own money, bought himself a toothbrush, toothpaste and face cloth, ceremoniously handing them to Tom, thus wordlessly establishing himself firmly as a full member of the household. >From the shop they went and had a meal in a cafÚ, both happier than they been for a very long time. James behaved with perfect decorum all the while they were out, surprising Tom with his ability to act so grown-up and mature for a lad his age and background. Even his language had somehow changed; he'd lost that sort of common street-wise edge to it. He was getting to like the feeling of having a son around already. Once in the car though, James dropped the facade and broke out in a huge grin, leaning over and giving Tom a big kiss on the lips once he'd checked no one was around to notice. "Thanks, Tom," he said, "This is my best day ever." "Mine too," Tom replied, looking at him and smiling. The odd thing was that he meant it. Once back at the house, they hurried indoors to unwrap and put away James' new clothes and toiletries. Now he really was home. They kept up the father/son game for the rest of the day and into the evening, having a tv dinner and watching a comedy film together on the sofa. Once the curtains were drawn on the lights turned on, the four walls of the room provided all the world they wanted, and both were well satisfied with their amazing day. What's more, sex hadn't even thought about all day, much less acted upon, despite their proximity to each other. Not until bed-time that is. It was almost midnight before they switched the tv off and yawned simultaneously. It'd struck them both during the evening that the father/son diversion they'd so much enjoyed had to come to an end at bedtime as there was only one bed. Admittedly, there was another one in the spare room, but that hadn't been used for months and months, and in any case the room hadn't been aired or the bed made. Tom was willing to go along with James, whatever he chose to do, even sleeping on the sofa if James wanted his 'own room'. James had already decided what he was going to do. Fun though their game had been, it had to stop when they went to bed - together. He didn't know for sure, but guessed that most fathers and sons didn't sleep together as a rule, and most certainly never got up to the sort of things that he fully intended to do with Tom tonight. He had been as randy as hell in the morning, and hadn't even jerked off once today, having other things on his mind. But now the feelings came back with a vengeance and he was more than ready to make up for lost time. As they turned off the lights and went upstairs, James stopped, turned to face Tom and said with as much meaning as he could, "You can call me Billy now." Tom just nodded in answer. James had had a wonderful day being a son out with his dad, but now Billy wanted the physical contact and loving from Tom, 'his man', and the only person in the world who gave a toss about him. One quick wash and brush-up later and they were in bed, cuddled up together with the radio playing softly in the background. "It's good being James Brown," Billy whispered, "At least during the day it is, but at night I think I'll go back to being Billy. It's more fun." With that he took hold of Tom's penis and squeezed it lovingly. It rose to an instant hard-on, matched by Billy's prompt and satisfying arousal as Tom cupped his cock and balls in his hands and fondled it just as lovingly. Being father and son was fantastic, but did have its disadvantages they both acknowledged to themselves as they kissed deeply, lips and tongues meeting in mutual love. Knowing that, for the first time, they were going to spend the whole night together they cuddled up together, Billy resting his head on Tom's chest, his hands resting on his shoulders. He loved just laying there listening to his heart, the slow steady beat somehow comforting him. Even just holding each other's dicks was in a way comforting; there was no one else he could do it with, or wanted to for that matter - it was something special between themselves, confirming their closeness. Billy sighed, perfectly at peace with the world. Tom was in much the same frame of mind; he'd had a strange, exciting day, one which he knew had changed him in a big way. The beautiful boy laying happily in his arms and in his bed was filling a gap in his life he never knew he had. Six months ago he was happy enough doing his job, coming home to a comfortable house and living an easy, but solitary existence. He wasn't precisely sure how Billy had managed to change his life so much, but change it he had, and very much for the better. He now had a reason to get out of bed in the mornings and go to work, looked forward keenly to any time he could spend with Billy, no matter how brief. And what's more, it appeared Billy felt the same. Gently stroking his back, Tom's mind turned to Billy and thought how much he'd changed too. His school work, his appearance and even his attitude to life had improved, he could almost see him standing taller and gaining self-confidence and self-respect every time they met. He devoutly hoped that nothing would ever happen to change things. Billy sighed and stretched himself, awaking from a short doze. Still bleary-eyed, he lifted his head up to look into Tom's eyes. "I thought it was a dream," he said sleepily, "I thought it was too good to be true." Tom looked back into Billy's face and stroked his cheek. "It's not a dream," he replied softly and kissed him on the forehead. "Good," Billy answered, now fully awake and wanting some fun. Playfully he stretched out full length, covering Tom's body as much as he could and arranging their slowly hardening cocks so they were side by side. He leaned down and kissed Tom on the lips, softly at first, but quickly devouring his tongue passionately. Tom, sensing the boy's urgency returned the kiss and cuddled him closer, enjoying his warmth, his sensuousness and his passion. They stayed like this for ages, getting to know each other even better in the privacy of their own bed, discovering those little things which made two people lovers and not simply ships in the night. Billy, giving Tom one last kiss, grinned at his partner and disappeared under the bedclothes. Seconds later Tom felt his dick engulfed in Billy's warm, moist mouth, his tongue rapidly getting to work on his throbbing shaft. It was unbelievable how quickly Billy had become adept at sucking Tom's cock, using not only his lips and tongue, but also his feather-light fingers as well. Tom, unable to reach Billy's dick as it was being squeezed between them, stroked his back and head, allowing himself to be totally immersed in the phenomenal sensations emanating from his groin. Dimly he became aware that Billy was gently sliding his dick up and down his chest, masturbating himself in perfect unison with the intense sucking he was giving. Billy was as completely lost in his own world as was Tom, both united in love. As far as Billy was concerned, what he was doing now with Tom was the ultimate demonstration of the love he felt for him. Tom had taken care of him ever since that first day when he appeared unannounced and unbidden in his office, begging for help. From that moment on, they'd grown together both physically and mentally, finding a friendship he wouldn't have believed possible between a man and a boy. And now he was sort of unofficially his son; they'd been shopping together, eaten together and were now spending the night together. This was a world which until now he'd only seen from afar, dreamed of, never once thinking it would happen to him. Billy felt Tom's prick swell and his balls contract slightly. He sucked harder and fingered his balls, waiting for his prize, eagerly he swallowed the pre-cum in his mouth, aware his reward was only seconds away. Tom moaned ecstatically, bucked his hips and forced his dick deeply into Billy's throat, and spasmed the biggest load of hot, passionate cum he'd done for years. Without hesitation Billy took the lot, swallowing every last drop eagerly, anxious to get as much of his man inside him as possible, only slowing down when he sensed Tom's dick beginning to wilt. He was completely unaware that he too had shot his bolt, the cum welding the two together in a bond of absolute devotion. Tom was devastated, hardly able to breath let alone talk or move. He threw his head back, mouth agape gasping for air, unseeing and unfeeling. It wasn't until Billy leaned into him and kissed him tenderly, his breath cummy and warm, that he began to revive, staring glassy-eyed at his exuberant young lover. Billy, his dick still rock hard, felt wonderful: it was the perfect end to a perfect day. There was only one more thing he wanted, and he would get it first thing in the morning: of that he was certain. Once again nestled in each other's arms, they kissed and cuddled until, worn out with spent passion, they drifted off to sleep, heads touching and sharing the same dreams. Chapter Thirteen. Billy awoke just after seven the following morning, the sunlight streaming in through the big windows. Opening his eyes slowly he discovered he was still curled up with Tom, in more or less the same position as he was when he went to sleep. He smiled to himself, remembering yesterday with immense delight and kissed Tom lightly on the chest, mentally thanking him. Then he had to move, his bladder demanding relief. With infinite care he wriggled out of the warm bed without disturbing Tom, and braving the chilly room scampered to the bathroom, cupping his penis and testicles against the cold air. Thinking ahead, he also gave his teeth a quick clean with his own brush and toothpaste. He also grabbed the tub of cream they'd used before and carefully placed in under the bed where he could reach for it when the time came. Just as carefully as he climbed out, Billy got back into bed and curled up against Tom's back. The sudden coolness woke Tom up, and he turned over lazily to see Billy smiling at him. "Sorry," he said, "I needed to use the toilet in a hurry." "Mmmmm, that's OK," Tom replied, still only half-awake. His erection also reminded him that perhaps a visit to the bathroom might be a good idea. "Damn you," he grinned, "I didn't need to go until you mentioned it!" Billy giggled, and watched as Tom rolled out of bed, wrap a dressing gown round himself and disappear towards the toilet. Tom soon returned and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, one arm under Billy's neck. "What time is it?" he asked, sure it was far too early to be up and around. "About half-past seven," Billy said, throwing an arm across Tom's chest and hugging him. "Much too early!" Tom sighed dramatically and turned his back on his bedmate. "Wake me at Christmas!" Billy sniggered, kissed Tom between the shoulder blades, moulded himself into his back and let his hand snake its way down towards Tom's groin to find his dick. Once found he took it between his fingers and playfully squeezed, waiting for it to harden. His own cock, already hardened by Tom's mere presence, he pushed between Tom's thighs. Tom, aware of what Billy was doing, was quite content to let him do what he wanted. Apart from anything else, he was enjoying the gentle stimulation Billy was giving him, and the feeling of his cock between his legs was extremely erotic, rubbing against that magical area behind his balls. It wasn't long before they were both dripping pre-cum, Billy helping his by slowly thrusting his hips to and fro, effectively fucking Tom between his legs. The sensation he had was phenomenal, his entire dick was being massaged wonderfully, and unless he stopped soon, he was sure to cum, and Billy didn't want that, not just yet anyway. He had other plans. Mischievously he ran a finger over Tom's delicate cock- head, swiping up his pre-cum and spreading it all over his dick. "You awake properly yet?" Billy whispered, nibbling Tom's ear. "Mmmmm. I am now!" Tom said, amazed once more at Billy's skill in arousing him. "Good. I want to try something," Billy said seriously, kneeling up now and pushing Tom onto his back. "What?" Tom replied, replacing Billy's hand with his own on his dick and masturbating both his and Billy's boner gently. "I want to ... to, you know, do it with you." Tom, assuming he knew what he meant, was more than willing to oblige the seemingly insatiable boy. He pulled him down and kissed him on the lips, running his fingers down his back and kneading his butt cheeks, slipping a finger into his waiting hole as he did so. Billy returned the kisses fervently, now fully aroused and looking forward to having his long-for wish granted. Their tongues entwined as they desperately sought to please each other, once more thinking how lucky they were to have each other. Somewhat anxiously Billy stopped what he was doing, gave Tom a quick peck on the cheeks and aid, "Come on then, unless I do it now, I'm going to cum too soon." To Tom's astonishment, Billy pressed down on Tom's chest and re-adjusted his position, kneeling between his spread-eagled legs. "Lift them up for me?" he whispered, putting his hands under Tom's knees. It hit him like a thunderbolt; what Billy meant when he said he 'wanted to do it', was not for Tom to make love to Billy, but the other way round! There was only an instant's pause before Tom, acceding to Billy's wishes did as he was asked, looking forward immensely to it. Billy, now with the pot of skin cream in his hand, took a big handful and carefully smeared it all round Tom's anal ring and with little difficulty even managed to lubricate the inside slightly as well. Once his own dick was well and truly covered, he inched up towards Tom and holding his dick between his finger and thumb, touched it against Tom's already spasming muscle. They looked each other in the eye, each seeing an urgent need in the other, and an unspoken signal of love passed between them. Tom took each of Billy's hands and kissed them gently on the back, their eyes still remaining locked. Billy inched forward just enough to put a little force behind his dick as he guided it into Tom. He watched as he thrust his hips forward and pushed. Twice he tried without success, his dick somehow managing to bend, despite its apparent rock-solidness. For the third attempt he grasped it firmly in his closed fist and pushed hard, but this time it slipped away completely, causing Billy almost to lose his balance. The was a mouthed, "Fuck it!" from a severely frustrated young man and a look of determination set on his face. Tears were starting to run down his cheeks with his apparent inability to do the one thing in the world he desperately wanted to do: demonstrate his love. Tom felt completely helpless, unable to do any more than he was to assist Billy in achieving his goal. Once more Billy gritted his teeth, willed his dick to get harder than it'd ever been before and lunged forward viciously, not caring for a moment how much pain it would cause either himself or Tom. There was a split-seconds hesitation before the resisting muscle gave up and the sheer force suddenly allowed him entry. Both Tom and Billy winced with the agonizingly sharp, sudden pain, which faded away almost as suddenly as it arrived. "Done it!" Billy gasped, his brow shining with sweat. "I'm in." Tom knew. His butt was filled with the most awesome feeling: it seemed Billy's five-inch dick had instantly transformed into a yard-long instrument of pleasure, his whole body filled with warmth and lust. Billy gave an enormous sigh and smiled to himself, relieved and inordinately proud of his achievement. He was actually making love to a man, to his own man. It was impossible to describe how he felt just then, he was in heaven, his whole being seemingly centred around his groin and the fantastic way in which Tom was gripping his cock. Slowly he eased it further in, surprised at how easy it was now compared with the monumental effort it'd taken to get as far as this. All pain, all worries and all feelings of frustration evaporated as he slid further and further down, not stopping until he felt his balls touch Tom's body. Balancing himself carefully, he quickly wiped away the tears from his face and smiled down at Tom as if seeking his congratulations and approval to carry on. "That's fabulous, really fantastic," Tom said honestly, "You feel bloody marvellous!" Billy felt immensely proud of himself when he heard this and letting his natural urges take over, began to fuck Tom with slow, easy strokes, his face contorted with delight as he savoured every micro-second of his first real fuck. In and out he slid, every fibre of his body responding to the almost supernatural stimulation he was receiving. Up and down, up and down he moved, eyes closed and all breathing suspended. His dick was throbbing, his balls had pulled up tightly to his groin and he ached, pleasantly ached, all over. Then he felt the tingly feeling start somewhere down by his toes, rapidly working its way up to his dick, making it swell even more if that were possible, and continuing on to his chest and head. Stars bust, angels sang and fireworks burst in his brain as with a final, triumphant drive he ejaculated a geyser of white-hot spunk deep into Tom's bowels. Six or seven times he spasmed, completely out of control, before he slowly came down to Earth, the whole of his young body glistening with perspiration. He'd done it! He'd actually done it! The feeling was unbelievable, he was soaring high in the sky with delight, looking down on a wonderful, sexual, sensual, utterly fantastic world Easing himself down between Tom's legs and wriggling his way up his body, he gazed at Tom's face, his eyes twinkling with elation. He kissed Tom passionately and exuberantly, trying to pass on some of his euphoria to his lover, trying to let him know just how fucking amazing he felt. Tom felt the tears dropping onto his face and, pushing Billy away slightly, stared at him, worried that somehow he'd hurt himself. He needn't have been concerned though, his young lover was grinning broadly: the tears were of happiness and joy. He wrapped his arms round him and hugged tightly, kissing him on the eyelids, whispering how much he loved him over and over again. For another hour they lay together, their combined sweat and spent sperm sticking them firmly to each other, and neither giving a damn. Then, deciding the bed was getting uncomfortably hot, they got up, Tom helping Billy to his feet, smiling gently at him. "Time for a shower," Tom said quietly. Billy nodded, borrowed Tom's dressing gown and headed for the bathroom, giving Tom a very slight shake of the head as he made to follow him. Apparently it was time for James to appear again. Downstairs in the kitchen a little later, Tom was standing over the cooker watching the breakfast when he became aware of James standing close behind him, looking over his shoulder. James slid his arms round Tom's waist and held him lightly. Tom turned his head slightly and half-smiled at him. "You OK?" he said. "Fine, thanks, dad," James said. "You?" "Perfect." Tom replied, "Who wouldn't be with a beautiful, handsome son like you?" "Love you. Lots," he said very softly, and gave Tom a nip on the neck with his teeth before scampering out of the way of any possible retribution. They ate their breakfast sat on the sofa, James skimming through a pictorial history book of Tom's and Tom just gazing at Billy/James wondrously, acutely conscious that he'd got another erection. He pulled James to him, nestling him against his side and folded his arms round his slim waist. Casually he let his clasped hands drop to James groin to come to rest on his soft dick. Without giving him a glance, James put a hand under Tom's, forming a barrier preventing any contact. Other than that, he made no effort to move. Understanding his action, Tom kissed James on the earlobe and gave him a little squeeze. "What are we going to do today?" James asked. Tom replied that Sundays were usually housework days when he did all the washing and ironing and so on. "But today, we'll go out if you like," he finished. "No. We'll stay in and do it together. We mustn't let the house get into a mess otherwise it'll never stay looking nice." Oddly, neither of them gave Billy's normal living conditions a thought. Usually Tom found housework a chore and did it only out of necessity, but today it was actually fun with the two of them scurrying round the house dusting, polishing and vacuuming. As James pushed the vacuum cleaner round upstairs, Tom gathered together the last pile of dirty laundry, including the sheets off their bed, and took them down to the laundry room. There was only one major job left, and that was the one he liked least - pressing and ironing his shirts and things; that was usually left until the evening when he often did it whilst watching television. He was folding the shirts up ready when James came in to put away the vacuum cleaner. "I've finished upstairs," he said, out of breath after fighting with the cleaner, "And I've made the bed as well." This meant that James had had to search through the cupboards for the clean sheets; but Tom didn't mind. Apart from the fact that there wasn't anything to hide, especially from James, he rather admired the youngsters initiative and thanked him. "What about the ironing?" James enquired. "Are we going to do that as well?" "No, not now. I usually leave that until tonight. Let's have something to eat and drink." They sat in the kitchen having a sandwich and cup of tea, both satisfied with the mornings' work, but there was something niggling away at James and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Glancing round the kitchen he spotted the pile of clothes waiting to be ironed, and at the bottom of them he could see his school clothes. It hadn't crossed his mind until now that he always had cleaned and pressed clothes to change into at school, and that someone must have arranged it. He looked at Tom questioningly, realising that he was the only one who could have done it, and he'd never said a word. "Will you show me how to iron my shirts?" James asked. "It's not fair that you always do it for me." Tom smiled at James and nodded. Half an hour later, James was thoroughly enjoying himself, surrounded by freshly pressed shirts and trousers, wondering idly why his mother never seemed to find time to do this simple, relaxing job. The remainder of the day was spent lazing about, James and Tom chatting and watching television; the time came however when James had to think about going home - or rather to the other life he led as he was already thinking of it. Reluctantly he dragged himself off upstairs to find his 'home' clothes and put his school things away. Tom had followed him, sorry to see his departure and wishing that the week-end would last longer. James stripped off down to his skin, folding his clothes slowly and carefully before putting them away. After they were stowed away, he scrabbled under the bed for the jeans and T-shirt he'd discarded a life-time ago, throwing them on the bed and staring at them in disgust, hating the idea of having to put them back on. Tom saw the hesitation in Billy's face and completely understood his feelings. "Never mind, Billy," he said softly embracing him, "It's only until tomorrow morning." Billy stared up at his man and started to tear up, the warm salt drops running down his cheeks and dripping on to the carpet. "I don't wanna go," he sobbed, the tears falling freely now. Tom let him cry until he heard Billy sniffle and wipe his face with his hands. They looked at each other, neither one of them able to put their thoughts into words. Tom bent over slightly and pecked Billy on the lips before hugging him tightly and kissing him deeply and passionately. If he wasn't careful, Tom thought, he'd be in the same emotional state as Billy - then he had an idea. "Come on, son," he said, a lot more cheerfully than he felt, "Let's get you dressed. I've got an idea." Billy cheered up a little, but was still seriously pissed off with the thought of having to go 'home'. Picking up the boys underwear, Tom held them out at arms length and ceremoniously dumped them in the waste bin. "Put your other ones on; these are foul." Billy did as he was told, curious as to what Tom had planned for him. As they walked down the corridor, Billy paused by the spare room, looking longingly at the unused and unmade double bunk beds through the half-open door, imagining how he would fit into it. Shrugging his shoulders, he dismissed the impossible idea, pulled the door closed and went downstairs. Back in the living room, Tom told Billy to sit down for a minute as there was something he had to do before he dropped him off at home. Going to his desk, he picked up an envelope and wrote Billy's name on it before putting a ú20 note inside. "There you are, your wages for the week-end decorating. May I suggest that on the way home, we stop off at the supermarket and invest your wages in a new pair of trousers and a shirt? That way you won't have any cash for you to ... err ... lose, and you'll have some new clothes into the bargain. Your mother can't complain at that, especially if you give her the receipt and tell her you bought them with your own money." On principal, Tom disliked the idea of having to buy clothes for a 12-year old boy, he should be given toys and books and things, but under the conditions, he knew they were the best thing he could buy - toys could come later. Luckily there were very few other shoppers in the 24-hours superstore: Tom would have preferred not to meet anyone either of them knew, but at least he had a plausible excuse for shopping with the lad who'd been working with him all week-end if they did. They managed to buy his trousers and shirt very cheaply; a lot cheaper than Tom would have liked, but then again he couldn't let him buy anything much more expensive otherwise questions might be asked. It also meant Billy had a few pounds of his own in his pocket. Feeling a great deal chirpier now, Billy sat back in the car and thanked Tom profusely for the gifts he'd had given to him this week-end. He would have liked to have thanked him more physically, but as they were in a car park, that didn't seem a good idea. He did manage to steal a quick kiss though as they pulled up at the end of the road where Billy lived, just before he said 'goodnight', even managing a weak smile as he did so. Chapter Fourteen. Billy was late for school the following morning, and Tom was worried. Worried primarily because he assumed they'd been found out and the first visit he would have would be from the Police or the Headmaster and not Billy. Even if that weren't true, there must be a very good reason for his lateness, which almost certainly involved him in some way. Fifteen minutes later, the door opened to admit Billy, sullen-faced and obviously upset about something. "What's wrong?" Tom asked, pleased to see him, but still very worried. Billy closed the door slowly and walked across to Tom, dropping his school bag on the floor. Without opening his mouth, Billy sat on Tom's knee, wrapped his arms round his neck and started crying; heart- rending, heavy sobs, his body shaking with emotion. It took Billy fifteen minutes to calm down sufficiently to explain what had happened. Apparently when he got home last night, his mother still had her boy-friend with her and they were both drunk. He managed to get to his bedroom to hide his new clothes before going back into the living room to say hello, knowing if he didn't he'd be dragged out anyway. The first thing that his mother asked was how much money he'd got, and where it was. Billy, now expecting a fight, went and got the shopping bag with the receipt in and showed it to her. At first she stared at it, disbelievingly, before telling Billy in no uncertain terms what she thought of him and to go to his room and wait there for her. Billy, after making sure his new clothes were well hidden, got undressed and got into bed, nervously awaiting her arrival. Eventually he heard the front door close as the man left, and shortly after she came in to his bedroom in a blind rage and started to slap Billy until he told her where the few pounds he'd got left were. She grabbed it, stuffed it in her pocket and really lay into her son, screaming abuse at him. By now, Billy was speaking calmly and coldly, as if relating a series of events which didn't concern him in the slightest. "What happened this morning, then?" Tom asked, his anger only just being kept under control. "I put my new clothes on to come to school and she went apeshit again, bollocking me about wasting money on clothes. She hit me again, but I wasn't going to let her ruin my new things, so I hit her back and ran out the house." Tom was at a total loss as to what to do next, at least with regard to Billy's mother. He could, and would, take care of Billy somehow. "Did she hurt you much?" he asked, still holding on tight to him. Saying nothing, Billy pulled his shirt out of his trousers to reveal hand-shaped bruises across his kidneys. "Any more?" Tom asked, his voice now coldly quiet. Billy nodded, "A couple." "Get undressed, and let me see." Billy stripped off. His entire upper body was covered in bruises, none of which were too bad in themselves, but the anger and ferocity with which they'd been inflicted were more than self-evident. "OK, thanks, Billy." Tom said. "Do you want a shower or not today?" He knew that putting anything other than a soothing cream on the bruises would only cause him more pain. Billy said that he didn't want to shower, but he wouldn't mind some skin cream on his back. While Tom was applying the soothing ointment to the one person he was beginning to care about most in the world, his mind was turning over. It wouldn't do any good reporting her to the authorities, at least not yet. That would only result in Billy being taken into Emergency Care, and things being what they are, returned home after 24-hours after his mother had agreed not to hit him any more. No: it needed something more permanent than that. Tom explained what they should do. "Listen, Billy. I want to take some photographs of the bruises you've got now, and I want you to write down, in your own words, exactly what happened, and why, including where you got the new clothes from. I'm certain that that won't get us into trouble, after all everyone including you mother knows you've been coming to my house to work. Once we've done that, you must keep a diary of every time she swears at you, hits you, or anything else she does to hurt you. That way, if ever you need to prove what she's done, then you can show them your diary. It'll be a big help." "But what about us?" Billy said, "I can still come and see you, can't I? It wouldn't be fair if I couldn't." "Yes, of course. What I'll do is write to your mother and tell her that the school have seen these marks on you, and made a record of them as we're supposed to do by law. I can say that you wouldn't tell us where you got them, but we think you're being bullied - which in a way is true. That way, your mother won't know you've told us, but hopefully she'll be too frightened to do it again." Billy nodded in agreement and even managed to raise a small smile in gratitude. "Only one more thing," Tom said, "If ever she does it again, and you feel like running, come to my house, or telephone me straightaway. You've still got the number?" Billy repeated the number perfectly from memory and promised to do as he'd been told. They let it go at that for the time being, promising to talk about it later, either after school or at Tom's house that evening. Billy was just leaving to go to class when Tom said, "By the way, have you got PE today?" Tom knew full well he had, after all he taught him. "Well, in that case I must write myself a note excusing you." He managed a cheeky grin, stuck his tongue out and mouthed, "Dickhead!" to his man, feeling infinitely better than he did when he first walked in the room. They didn't get chance to talk seriously until Billy got to Tom's house that evening. Not surprisingly, Billy's mother didn't remember too much about last night or this morning, but she knew enough to know that she'd beaten her son, not that she regretted it in the slightest. What she did remember clearly was that he'd hit back this morning for the first time, and it'd hurt. Dimly she realised that he was no longer a small child, he was a big boy now, and growing up quickly - and growing independent. That couldn't come soon enough for her she thought, the sooner he was old enough and big enough to get out of her life, the better for all concerned. Thankfully, the school didn't know it was herself who'd bruised him, the stupid idiots thought he was being bullied, not that he didn't deserve it. Billy and Tom spent the evening talking about Billy's home life and what, if anything, they could do about it - which in fact wasn't very much unless they involved the authorities, which neither wanted to do unless they absolutely had to. The one thing they agreed on was that Billy could spend as much time as he wanted at Tom's house, with the proviso that Billy should try not to become too much of a frequent visitor that it became obvious he was spending more time there than at home or out playing with his friends. It wouldn't be too difficult though for Billy to spend his week-ends there, as well as the usual three or four hours a week having his extra lessons. The conversation ended on a cheerful note, with Billy asking Tom if he could have the shower he missed this morning. Together they went up the stairs, Tom stepping into the bedroom first just in case Billy wanted to be left alone for a while. "Where are you? You coming to do my hair?" Billy shouted from the shower not long after, "Come on, I'm ready." Smiling broadly, Tom walked quickly to help Billy. As soon as he walked in the room, he knew things were getting back to normal. Billy was standing under the water facing Tom, shampoo in one hand and his boner in the other, grinning evilly. "Come on, get undressed and come in here with me, I'm feeling really dirty!" he smirked playfully. Seconds later, Tom had Billy in his arms, clinging on to him tightly, letting the hot water soak them both. "That's better," Billy sighed, "That's tons better." Gradually their erections rose to meet each other as they caressed and cuddled, driving away the memories of a bad day. Whatever may happen outside Tom's front door, once in the house the two could comfort and console one another just as they wanted - and this was by far the best way. In between cuddles, hugs and gropes, they somehow managed to wash each other, despite getting fits of the giggles every so often. Turning the water off, Billy stepped out of the shower and handed the enormous bath towel to Tom, intimating that he should dry him. Gladly he did as he was asked, taking care to pat him dry over his still tender bruises. Kneeling down to dry his legs, Tom watched as Billy began to push his hips to and fro, his erection pointing enticingly at Tom's face. He looked up questioningly into the boy's face: the slightest of nods confirmed his thoughts. Letting the towel fall to the floor, Tom put his hands round Billy's butt cheeks and drew him forwards, opening his mouth. Billy, his hands resting behind Tom's head, sighed contentedly as his cock was engulfed. "Can we go on the bed?" Billy whispered, his voice trembling with emotion, still thrusting his cock in and out slowly. Tom led Billy to his room and lay down on top of the bed, waiting for Billy to join him. Billy stood by the side of the bed for a moment, his face glowing with adoration. He would take all the beatings in the world, just so long as he could be with Tom once in a while, doing what they were doing. Grinning, he leapt onto the bed, twisted himself round and thrust Tom's cock deep into his mouth, sucking on it desperately. Tom gasped in awe as he felt his dick besieged by Billy's tongue and throat with an urgent and intense desire. It was a while before he managed to take Billy's leaking cock into him and lovingly massage it with his tongue, swallowing with delight all the pre-cum he was dripping. The two wriggled and writhed together ecstatically, extracting every ounce of pleasure from one another, showing their relief that what could have been a serious threat to their love-making had been thwarted. Billy tried as hard as he could to hold off cumming, but the combination of his compelling need and superbly erotic tonguing from Tom had their effect and he felt his balls contract. "I'm cumming, Jesus!" he just managed to yell out as his dick throbbed and spasmed out the seeds of his love. "Christ!" he gasped as the last throb deposited its load into Tom. Tom's dick, now released from Billy's mouth, shot its gift violently onto Billy's chest and face, covering it with gobs of hot, glistening cum, lovingly given and gladly accepted by a well and truly exhausted boy. "That was ace!" Billy said once he'd regained his composure, "Really, really good. Thank you!" Tom giggled at Billy's thanks, amused by his politeness, given the situation they were in. "Thank you!" Tom replied formally. "You feel alright now?" "Yeah. Fantastic," his erstwhile son replied, laying back on the bed alongside Tom. "Can we do it again?" "Jesus!" Tom laughed, "Give me a chance will you? I'm not as young, or as randy, as you!" Billy sniggered. "Not now, silly. Tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and ......" Tom stopped him with a kiss, "Yes, of course. Whenever you want if it makes you happy." "It does," Billy said, still smiling. "And another thing," Billy said a little while later, "James has gone. It's much more fun being Billy I've decided, James was no fun." "Good. I prefer Billy anyway," Tom laughed, pleased that the boy had no more need of his temporary alter ego. "Now, much as I love having you, it's time you went home. You can have too much of a good thing you know." He swatted Billy on his rump and gently pushed him off the bed onto the floor. Billy pulled a face and leapt back on the bed, laying full length on Tom and pinning his arms over his head. The happy, cheerful grin disappeared as he looked seriously into Tom's eyes and whispered, "I love you." Then kissed him tenderly before leaping back off the bed, saying "At least when you're in a good mood and not being a teacher!" He scampered off to find his clothes before Tom could think of a reply. Chapter Fifteen. There were no repercussions from the episode with Billy's mother, in fact over the ensuing weeks her attitude towards her son changed subtly, something which didn't go un-noticed by Tom and Billy. She took less of an interest in his comings and goings and as long as he kept out of her way and out of trouble, she was happy. In her sober moments she realised that she'd been extremely lucky to get away with so much in the past: not only the abuse, but also her lack of care in keeping him (and the house) clean and tidy. She wasn't entirely sure how he was doing it, but he was managing to keep himself fairly smart and well dressed. It was assumed that the money he got from helping Mr Brown paid for his clothes and things, which was fine by her. Billy's 13th birthday came and went, ignored by his mother apart from a cheap card and a ú5 note. Tom bought a computer for him, and installed it in the living room at number 47, much to Billy's delight. Despite Tom's comments ages ago, Billy was spending almost all his time there now when he wasn't at home or our playing with his friends. He had more of his belongings there than he did in his own house and had to all intents and purposes taken over the spare room to keep them in. As far as Tom was concerned, things couldn't be better. To begin with, he'd kept the school informed of everything he did with Billy which might affect his work, including his taking care of Billy at the week-ends. This was tacitly accepted by the Headmaster and staff who left Tom to manage his own affairs, knowing that Billy was enjoying a far better standard of life than he would otherwise have. The real change in their lives came during the long summer holidays. Tom had arranged to go away for a couple of weeks, taking a break and visiting friends, but after a week he found he was missing Billy and was worried about him. So much so in fact that he broke short his holiday and returned home, anxious to make sure things were still alright with him. Billy had spent a miserable seven days, getting under his mother's feet and moping about the house aimlessly. He'd been round to Tom's house at least once a day, and usually more, hoping that he'd come back early, but there was no sign of him. Not until Saturday that is. As he strolled round the corner into the main road, he stopped and stared disbelievingly at Tom's house; there, in the drive was Tom's car! Running frantically down the street, he dashed to the front door, rang the bell and let himself in with the key Tom had given him. "Tom! Tom! Where are you?" he shouted, running from room to room, searching for him. "Upstairs in the bedroom," Tom shouted, more than pleased to hear his voice again. They met at the top of the stairs, embracing each other and grinning all over their faces. "You're back early! Fantastic!" Billy said, kissing Tom on the cheek, his eyes sparkling with delight. "Yes, I missed you too much, I had to come back to see you!" Billy, not really realising just how true this was, grinned even broader and hugged him tightly. They made their way downstairs to the kitchen, Billy not letting go of Tom's arm for an instant, afraid he might disappear if he let go. Once tea was made, they sat at the kitchen table, Billy still staring doe-eyed at Tom. "How's things at home?" Tom asked. "OK. Mum's pissed off with me 'cause I'm home so much, but now you're back I won't be there much." Tom was relieved to hear this and relaxed in his chair, vowing to himself that he'd never leave Billy alone again if he could avoid it - the sheer exuberance he'd shown just now demonstrated how much they hated being apart. Billy, now a bit calmer, told Tom that he was going home for a few minutes to tell his mother that Tom was back and he would probably be staying at his house overnight. "But there's no 'probably' about it," Billy said, "I'm definitely staying." Tom ruffled his hair and told him to hurry up and come back. Billy's mother was just as pleased as Billy that Tom was back, not only because it meant Billy would be out from under her feet, but also for another, more personal reason. She'd arranged to go away herself for a week with her current boyfriend, but didn't know what to do with Billy. If all else failed she would have to leave him here by himself, asking the neighbours to keep an eye out for him, but now his teacher was back, the problem had been solved. Before Billy could rush back out, she stopped him in her usual manner, " Come 'ere, you, I wanna tell you something." Billy felt a knot in his stomach as he turned to look at her, one hand on the door knob. He was in half a mind just to ignore her and run, but something told him to wait. "Yeah?" he said, with an edge of defiance. "See if you can stay at his house for a bit. Brian and me is going to Blackpool for an 'oliday. It's either there with 'im or 'ere by yourself. It's up to you - you sort it." He was overjoyed at this news, but didn't dare show it. Instead, he pulled a face and said, sadly, "Can't I come with you? I've not had a holiday for ages." He hoped he knew the answer; the last thing he wanted was a holiday with him and her. "Piss off. You don't need no 'oliday, I do." Billy dropped his head and shut the door behind him, affecting an attitude of huge disappointment. Once out of sight however, he punched the air with an ecstatic whoop of joy and raced back to Tom with the good news. Tom was more than willing to look after him for as long as she wanted as it turned out, but there was one thing he had to do first. He explained to Billy that of course he was welcome to stay for as long as he liked, but he had to speak to his mother first to confirm it. After all, he went on, you are still only 13 and I aught really to see her face-to-face and talk about it. The last thing Tom wanted to do was see his mother, but felt that under the circumstances he should, if only to confirm it would be OK. Billy was just as nervous, he didn't want Tom to see his house, or his mother either, afraid that once he'd seen the mess he lived in, he wouldn't want to be friends with him anymore. He sighed, but said nothing. "Let's do it now," Tom said, wanting to get the unpleasant task out of the way. They took the car, thinking that it would enable them to get away quicker once the bound-to-be awkward meeting was over. The closer they got to his house, the more Billy showed his nervousness. He was dreading it, terrified of what might happen. He was about to tell Tom that he would wait in the car for him, but was forestalled when Tom gripped his hand and told him not to worry, things would be OK. Tom hoped he was right - he was just as nervous as Billy. Tom stood on the doorstep while Billy went inside to tell his mother that Mr Brown wanted to see her. She went to the front door, wiping her hands on her dress as she did so, wondering what the hell he wanted. Could the kid stay there or not? It was quite simple and didn't need him coming to the house. "Yes?" she said, carefully holding the door open just enough for her to see him. "Errr, hello Mrs Kirkpatrick," he started, offering his hand for her to shake, "I'm Tom Brown, Billy's teacher." "Hello," she replied, ignoring his hand. "Yes. Well. Err, Billy says that you'd like him to stay with me for a few days while you go away. Is that right?" Billy's mother, realising that unless she was at least civil to him he might refuse to take him, said that was right and would it be OK? Tom, feeling more confident now said it would be fine, he just wanted to confirm it. Mrs Kirkpatrick, relieved that there was no problem, smiled for once and thanked him. "When are you going?" Tom asked. "Sunday, so he may as well stay with you now," she said with more force than she intended, and added lamely, "If that's alright." "Sure. I'll wait here if you like while he gets his things together." The brief conversation ended, much to their joint relief and Mrs Kirkpatrick retreated into the house on the pretext of ensuring he packed everything he needed, which wasn't much. Five minutes later, they were back in the car, Billy's school bag on the back seat, stuffed with hastily gathered belongings he knew he'd never need. Back in the house they sat on the sofa, Tom coming to terms with the fact that he'd now got an unexpected, but very welcome, house guest for a week or two. Billy was equally shell-shocked, not believing that he was going to live here for at least a week. "Right," said Tom eventually, getting to his feet, "Let's get things organised. First, food shopping." They went to an out-of-town hypermarket and filled an enormous trolley with a vast variety of foods, most of which were probably very unhealthy, but the staple diet of most teenagers. Billy had never seen so much shopping in one go, his mother could get all theirs into one carrier bag - it took them five. Next on the agenda was a quick meal for them both, taken in the nearest MacDonalds - another place Billy had rarely been to. Finally they got back home just as it was getting dark and stacked their supplies in the cupboards. "Next thing," Tom said after tea, "Is to make your bed up in the spare room." Billy looked aghast, his jaw dropping open. This was the last thing he expected, he'd assumed that he'd be sleeping with Tom. "Have we go to?" he almost whimpered, "I want to stay with you." "And what would happen if we had visitors and they saw only one bed made up?" Tom replied. "What do you think they'd assume?" He let this soak in before adding mischievously, "But no one's saying you've got to use it every night." There was an instant change in Billy as he realised that Tom, as usual, was right. Breathing a sigh of relief, he dragged Tom upstairs to help him make his bed. They also moved all his clothes, of which he now had quite a lot, into the wardrobe in 'his' room. "Oh, I almost forgot," Tom said and went into his bedroom "Wait here a minute. Don't move." He came back with a small china plate which he gave to Billy. "Here," he said, "This's for you. I was going to do that room up for you anyway, you've just arrived here a bit sooner than I thought you would!" Billy turned the plate over and stared. It was a door plaque with a picture of a car on it, and 'Billy's Room' written on it in gold paint. It was beautiful Billy decided, almost too nice to be stuck on a door, but it did tell everyone that it was his room and nobody else's and that made him feel very proud and special. Carefully he peeled off the backing paper and stuck it in the middle of the door. "That looks good. Thanks!" he said and gave Tom a hug. In fact Billy never used his room to sleep in at all that week, he was more than happy to spend the nights with his man, sometimes messing about together and sometimes not. They both enjoyed the sense of freedom it gave them, being able to pleasure each other when they wanted, but not feeling the desperate urgency they usually felt when they were only together for the one night. What was far more important than their sex life though was the fact that they discovered they could live together in the same house and still remain friends, each of them subconsciously adapting to the other. After a glorious couple of weeks acting as father and son, the time sadly came when Billy's mother eventually returned, despite their wishing she would stay where she was, at least until the end of the summer holidays. In fact she'd been home for a couple of days before Billy, out playing with his mates, had noticed the curtains had been drawn back and the lights were on. He sighed when he saw the signs of life, and chose not to tell Tom she was back - not just yet anyway. That night he was laying in bed, curled up with Tom when he dropped the bombshell. "She's back," he mumbled into Tom's chest, hating to say the words. "Oh." said Tom simply, waiting for Billy to say something. "I suppose I'd better go back tomorrow," he added despondently. "Don't want to though." "Never mind. You've got to go back sometime I guess. In any case, you can always come back you know, it's not like you're going far away is it?" "No, suppose not, but I like it better here." Tom cuddled Billy and stroked him gently, sympathising with how he felt; he would be sorry to lose him, if only for a few hours. There was one sure-fire way to cheer him up, though .... Tom reached down between them and found Billy's flaccid dick. He held it in the palm of his hand, feeling it get harder and harder as he pressed on it gently with his thumb. Billy giggled as Tom rubbed a finger lightly over the sensitive head. "That tickles!" he laughed, wriggling away from Tom, but returning for more instantly, grabbing Tom's soft prick at the same time and squeezing it just hard enough to make Tom wince. "Pack it up!" Tom smiled, and pulled Billy on top of him, biting him on the nose to divert him. "It been fantastic living here," Billy said as they cuddled together under the bedcovers, "And I'm not too pissed off about going back home, at least I can come back here whenever I want now." There was a slight pause as Billy thought. "Yeah, it'll be OK." Tom felt Billy shift his position slightly and press his dick between the top of his legs, making sure Tom's boner was resting up his body. Slowly he commenced to raise and lower his hips sensuously, watching Tom's face lovingly as he pulled back just enough to stimulate his cockhead before sliding back down again, enjoying the feeling of Tom's thighs as they pressed against his swollen dick. This was one of Billy's favourite activities, not only because it gave them both immense erotic satisfaction, but he could look into Tom's eyes, watching as he gradually became more and more aroused by the slight movement of his belly on his cock. He was also in total control, moving faster or slower as he slowly built up towards his own climax. Today, however, Billy was to try something new. "Turn over for me?" he asked, sensuously. Tom did just that, holding his cheeks apart whilst Billy smoothed the cream in. Leaning down slightly, Billy pushed his dick against Tom, waiting until his muscle relaxed before guiding it in. They'd done this so often now that there was no problem gaining entry, and Billy gave a well-satisfied sigh as he allowed himself to sink deeper and deeper, enjoying feeling just as much as he did the first time. He rested for a while once he was fully in, wriggling his hips once in a while to amuse Tom and stimulating his prostrate at the same time. No matter how much he was content just to lie like this, his natural urges soon got the better of him and he started to fuck Tom with an ease and passion that he had become so good at in recent weeks. Almost gracefully he lifted and lowered his hips, raising both their passions simultaneously, moaning and groaning in unison as they satisfied themselves. Billy kept up his steady rhythm even when he felt his balls contract, and with an immense strength of will, resisted the urge to race full tilt towards his climax. He knew from experience that the longer he could delay his orgasm this way, the better it would eventually be. Unflagging in his effort he ploughed on, now holding his breath in a determined effort to delay his climax even more. Then, finally unable to control himself any longer, he allowed himself to cum, thrusting rapturously deep inside Tom, his sperm exploding out in one continuous stream of boiling hot jism, making him almost faint with the force. He didn't rest there too long though, because there was one more thing he had to do, urgently. Pulling himself out, he instantly took Tom's dick in his mouth, and sucking furiously, swallowed all of his lover's spunk as he ejaculated uncontrollably under the young satyr's ministrations. Billy didn't stop until he was sure he'd drained every last miniscule drop from his man, then collapsed on him, breathing heavily, eyes closed, and deliriously happy. They dozed for a while, dreaming of each other, and how good life had been to them. In the early hours Billy woke up as Tom slept, taking the opportunity to sit stare at his naked body affectionately, knowing that is was his almost as much as it was Tom's now. Delicately he ran his finger down from Tom's chin, round his nipples, over his belly-button and down to his resting cock, twirling his hairs between his fingers before re-tracing his route back to his face. Tom shivered in his sleep, making a half-hearted attempt to brush away whatever was disturbing him. Billy giggled quietly to himself and ran his fingers equally softly round his lips and eyes, fixing his image in his mind for ever. Tom opened his eyes lazily, pulled Billy down to his chest, kissed him on the head and perfectly content, went back to sleep again. They stayed in bed until mid-day, neither having the inclination or energy to move. The spell they'd woven together would be broken if either of them stirred too much, and they were far too content to do that. At least they were until nature called. Reluctantly they fell out of bed and staggered to the bathroom to relieve themselves and clean up, preparing to greet the day, even at this late hour.   Chapter Sixteen. Billy began to spend more and more time with Tom, even getting to the stage where he would let himself into the house when Tom was out, and watching tv or tidying up until he returned. Week-ends had become sacrosanct to them both; from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon they were father and son, doing everything together and sharing the domestic chores. They had their disagreements of course, usually about Billy's schoolwork or behaviour but on the whole things were pretty good. Even his mother had calmed down somewhat, firstly because Billy was so rarely there, and secondly because she now had a regular man in her life who had to all intents and purposes moved in. He and Billy took an instant dislike to each other, the man seeing Billy as some sort of threat to his comfortable relationship, and Billy because he was just as much of a drunk as his mother and father. On more than one occasion they'd come to blows, more often than not about Billy 'being in the fucking way' all the time. Billy didn't give a shit; after all it was his home, not the boyfriends, and in any case he'd always got another, better one to go to whenever things got too bad. It was after one of these fights when Billy was sat on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and waiting for his temper to die down when he remembered a promise he'd made to himself over a year ago. Independence. And leaving home. In a blinding flash, he saw the solution. It might take a while, and involve some risk to himself, but it would be worth it at the end of the day. Now fired up with ambition, he dug out the diary he'd started when his mother beat him so long ago. He'd added one or two things since then, mostly when he was pissed off with his mother about something or other, but not really a great deal of what he thought of as abuse; being sworn at and the occasional slap were a normal part of life and weren't worth writing down. Unfortunately no one had told him about emotional abuse, which was a pity, but there was something else he remembered from somewhere or other, something he would investigate with Tom. The following day he dragged Tom to the school library during the lunch-break to help him check it out. He was right in what he thought, he discovered much to his delight. Once a child was 14, he could move out of his home and live where he liked, provided that the parents agreed and the child was in a safe environment. What was even more important was that the school or social services people needn't to be told unless there was a problem, which in his case there wouldn't be. Tom knew better than to ask what he'd got in mind, he'd be told when Billy was good and ready and not before. In fact, if he'd guessed rightly then he'd rather not know just yet, the boy was old enough and bright enough to know what he was doing. He allowed himself to worry about it though: he was up to something and it most certainly involved him, and after helping Billy wade through the legal bits, had a fair idea what it was. Billy worked out that he had about three months before his 14th birthday, and in that time he had things to do, things to plan and things to prepare for. The first thing he did was to put his diary and a pen handy; he'd be needing those. The first opportunity he had came about a week later. He'd got up to go to school as usual and couldn't find the shirt which he'd laid out the night before. Finding another one, his last clean one, he put it on and went through to the living room for breakfast. And there was Brian, the boyfriend, wearing Billy's white shirt. Billy looked at him, feeling his temper rise. "That's my shirt." he said simply. "Why've you got it on?" "Because I'm going out somewhere, not that it's got fuck all to do with you," Brian smirked. "But it's my school shirt, I bought it." "So?" Billy calmed himself down, he had to be careful. Waiting for his mother to put an appearance in, he said "Mum, that man's wearing my shirt. Can you ask him for it back, please?" The reply was short, sharp and simple. "Piss off. He needs it." Billy stood up, looked Brian straight in the eye and slowly poured the remains of his cup of tea down the front of his shirt. "You want it, you can have it. I don't think I'd want to wear it again anyway." he said, a great deal more calmly than he felt. Maintaining his poise, he walked slowly to the front door and went out, expecting any second to be attacked from behind. Although seriously annoyed about the loss of one of his few good shirts, he considered it worthwhile if it pissed those two off as much as he thought it would. He smiled to himself as he ambled to school: the battle had commenced. Gradually over the next few weeks he raised the stakes. On each and every occasion he felt slighted or aggrieved in some way, he made a scene. When Brian helped himself to Billy's dinner one day there was a fight. When his mother hadn't bothered to do his washing there was a fight, when they were both rolling drunk there was a fight. He even stayed home overnight more than he needed to, just to annoy them. OK, the downside was that he got beaten once in a while, but even that he put to his advantage, ensuring he took photographs of the marks and bruises. Each and every event was carefully logged in his diary. As he expected, the atmosphere in the house became tense and fraught, everyone walking on eggshells all the time. Both his mother and Brian got short-tempered and less tolerant of Billy, thus inadvertently helping him in his campaign. At the end of term, just before the holidays Billy decided it was time to act. The perfect opportunity arose when he came home from school one day to find Brian asleep on his bed, his mother sleeping on hers, both the worse for drink. "What the fuck are you doing?" Billy yelled, stirring the man to a dozy wakefulness. "This's my fucking bed!" Brian turned over and stared at Billy - he was in no mood to be messed about with. He had a splitting headache, felt dizzy and had been thrown out of his own bedroom because he was snoring. And to cap it all, the runt had turned up. The boy stood his ground, watching as Brian struggled to his feet, his anger rising by the second. "Fuck off, I wanna sleep." Brian said, trying to get his brain to work. "No. This's my room. You piss off out of it." Brian took a step towards Billy and slapped him across the face. He hardly flinched; he was expecting something like that and was quite ready for it. Standing his ground, he clenched his fists, hit Brian twice as hard as he could in the stomach. Within seconds they were rolling around the bedroom floor fighting and screaming at each other. It didn't take long for Billy's mother to come running into the room to see what was happening, and with some difficulty managed to stop them from killing each other, pushing Billy off and kicking him on the head in the process. "Get out!" she screamed, "Fucking get out!" Billy ached and hurt all over and was still angry, but managed to stay in control of himself. He went to the living room and sat down at the table, waiting for them to sort themselves out and join him. There was a strained silence as they stared at each other, breathing heavily and slowly calming down. Everyone was aware that this was a much more serious situation now than just another fight: things had come to a head and needed to be sorted out. "I hate it here," Billy started. "I wish I didn't live here, it's fucking awful. I haven't even got my own room anymore because of him." He glared at Brian, hung his head and started to cry. Billy's mother looked from one to the other, struggling to make her mind up. The boy had become a fucking nuisance over the past few months, complaining about everything and picking fights all the time: why couldn't he just leave her and Brian alone and piss off somewhere out of her life. The more she thought about it, the better she thought it would be for them all. Billy was old enough and big enough to look after himself now, but where could he go? Gradually she realised that there was an answer - that teacher-man he spent so much time with, he could fucking have him, he spent more time there than he did at home anyway so he might just as well bloody well live there. Billy watched his mother's face: he knew her well enough to know exactly what she was thinking: this is just what he'd been building up to all the past weeks; all he had to do now was sow the right seeds. "I'm going to Mr Brown's," he said slowly, getting to his feet, making sure they both saw how much pain he was in. "I'll stay there tonight. Fuck you all." "Fuck off then, and you needn't bother coming back," his mother said flatly. This was precisely what Billy wanted to hear, had wanted her to say it for months, but now she'd actually said it out loud, he was shocked. His own mother had effectively disowned him in favour of a drunken arsehole. He started to cry, seriously now, all acting and pretence gone. She'd actually told him she didn't want him anymore and it'd hurt him a damn sight more than he thought it would. Despite all the physical and emotional abuse he'd suffered from her, he felt deep down that she still loved him a little, but now, having heard the words, he was desolate. Very slowly he got to his feet, staring at her sadly. Just for that moment he thought he would change his mind and stay, but after only a seconds pause he knew things would never change and would only get worse. Pulling his jacket on, he left the house, closing the door quietly behind him, aware that he was burning a big bridge in so doing. He felt in his pocket, checking that his diary was there, that bloody record of his bloody life - he almost hated it for what it was and what it represented Tears were still running down his cheeks when he got to Tom's, and for once he rang the bell and waited for Tom to come and open the door for him, it occurring to him for the first time that perhaps Tom didn't want him living there, couldn't or wouldn't give him a home. Tom knew before he got to the front door who it was, he'd been expecting Billy round today anyway, but the sight of him through the glass, slumped against the door told him there was something seriously wrong. He saw straightaway that he'd been crying and there were fresh marks on his face from another fight with Brian or his mother. Putting an arm round him, he took Billy to the living room, sat him down and went to make a cup of tea whilst he thought. He was convinced by now that Billy had been engineering a move into his house, a permanent one and Tom had given it a great deal of thought in recent weeks, ever since that day in the library in fact. He'd done his own research, talking to some social worker friends to confirm Billy's findings: he was right, there would be no serious problem about him coming to live there, but did he really want it? It would mean a major shake-up in his life and create quite a few problems for him, but there was the plus side in that he would be able to give Billy a much better quality life than he'd had up until now, and more than that, he would actually enjoy having Billy around all the time to love and take care of., even ignoring the sexual side of their relationship. He always came down on the side of taking him in should the situation ever arise, but the prospect scared the shit out of him. They lay together in silence, each with their own thoughts, Billy eventually dropping off into a fitful doze, the events of the past couple of hours taking their toll. An hour later he woke up, glanced into Tom's face and cuddled up closer to him, resting his head on his chest. "I've left home," he whispered, not daring to look at him now. "I've been thrown out." Tom squeezed him gently, but said nothing, letting their closeness say all that was necessary. "What happened?" he said after a while. Billy lifted his shirt to show the latest set of marks. "Shit!" Tom whispered. "Again?" In reply, Billy handed Tom his diary, now almost full. Tom read it carefully, taking in every word and matching them to the horrendous pictures of a bruised and battered youngster. He went coldly angry as he compared the written words with the beautiful, handsome, young man nestled against him. How the hell could anyone, ...... He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, they'd been there too often to be news, and were too distresing to look at anyway. Of one thing he was now convinced - the lad could not and would not be going back there, no matter what. Taking a deep breath, he pushed Billy upright and put his arm over his shoulder. "Come on," he said, "Let's sort this out." They spoke together for the best part of an hour, Tom telling Billy that he was more than welcome to come and live with him if things were that bad, but he had to be certain that was what he wanted - he couldn't change his mind once the decision had been made, there was too much at stake. Billy always thought he would be deliriously happy when the offer to live here was made and he was surprised to feel that he wasn't. It was a strange feeling, being offered a new home and he took some time to think about it more seriously than he'd ever done before, but at the end of the day there was no other answer. "Yes. I'd like to live here with you, if you'll have me." he said quietly. Tom kissed him on the forehead and hugged him. The decision had been made and he felt somehow relieved. At least they knew where they stood now, for better or for worse. Half an hour later, they were knocking once more on Mrs Kirkpatrick's door. It was opened by Brian who let them both in without saying a word, leading the way to the living room. They all sat round the table looking at each other until Tom said, "I understand there's been a problem with Billy." "Yeah, he's got impossible to live with, he's a ...." Billy's mother stopped, re-phrasing what she was about to add, and said, "we just don't get on together." Tom ignored the 'we' bit, not wanting to know whether it included Brian or not - he assumed it did. "Yes, I'd heard about that. Have you seen this?" He made a show of drawing the diary from his pocket and put it on the table, spreading the pictures out for all to see. Billy's mother gasped in astonishment at the evidence before her and turned bright red. Brian picked one of the photographs up, looked sideways at Billy and said, "Bastard!" just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Yes, well. That doesn't help things does it?" he said menacingly at Brian. "Perhaps that's part of the problem." Once more there was a very strained silence, everyone realising that they were now completely in Tom's hands, and he was a very powerful and angry man. "How anyone could treat a child this way is beyond me," he said waving his hands over the pictures and their squalid surroundings. There was another long pause. "Well. As there doesn't seem to be anywhere else Billy can go, I guess he can come and stay with me." Tom said, "But it's a pity it had to come to this," he added, looking between the three of them. He let his comment sink in before continuing, "If that's what you and Billy want, then I agree." He pointedly stared at Brian, daring him to say anything. "All I need is written confirmation from you that you are allowing Billy to come and stay with me, that you know where he is, and that Billy agrees." She nodded, still staring in disbelief at the pictures. "And I'll keep these in a safe place." Tom said, sweeping them up and replacing them in his pocket. Billy produced some paper and a pen and watched as Tom wrote the letter out, twice. Mrs Kirkpatrick, Tom and Billy signed both copies, and Tom carefully put his copy with the diary. Everyone stood up, glad the unpleasantness was over and just wanting to go their own ways as soon as possible. Tom followed Billy to the door, and just as they were about to leave turned to Billy's mother and said, "Do you even know where I live?" She shook her head, a beaten and cowed woman. "No, I didn't think so. Says a lot, don't you think?" He wrote the address and telephone number down on the letter and left, pushing Billy in front of him. Once back in the car, Tom grasped the steering wheel with both hands, stared out at the road in front of him and heaved an enormous sigh of relief. "Glad that's over. That was awful," he said to himself as much as to Billy. "Yeah." was all Billy could manage, still in a state of shock with the speed and seeming ease he'd left one home and moved into another. Back at the house they stood in the kitchen leaning on the work-tops as they had a much-needed cup of tea and came to terms with their new relationship. "Come on, we need cheering up," Tom said at last, "Let's go out." For the remainder of the day they just drove around, mostly in silence, looking at the scenery, trying to forget the unpleasantness of the morning and simply enjoying each other's company. When they eventually returned home, there was a black rubbish bag on the doorstep, which, when opened revealed the residue of Billy's things from home: old clothes, school things and a miscellany of odds and ends from his bedroom, the whole of his young life in a rubbish bag. They didn't waste much time Tom thought, but wisely kept quiet. Billy emptied the sack on the living room floor, staring at the mess with Tom. Putting his school things and few personal odds and ends in one pile, he stuffed his old clothes back in the bag. Then he went upstairs, changed into his 'best clothes', put the one's he'd just taken off with the remainder of his old 'home' clothes from the wardrobe and jammed them in the bag with the rest. Giving Tom a defiant stare, he picked up a lighter from the kitchen, went through the patio windows into the garden, dropped the bag in the barbeque pit and set fire to it Tom, watching all this silently, joined Billy outside and stared at the flames consuming Billy's past. "Fuck it!" he said to the world in general, swearing for the last time in Tom's presence as the flames died down. "That's it! All I want now is a shower." They slept together that night, a sounder and more restful sleep than they'd ever had together. Sex wasn't on the agenda, just the comfort and company of a father and son naked in bed together, bonding as only they could. Tom informed his Headmaster of the new situation just as soon as school re-started after the holidays, informing him of Billy's change of address and guardianship at the same time. Much to Tom's surprise, the Head accepted the change almost without comment, saying only that he was glad that Billy had managed to find a better home than the one he had, and perhaps now would settle down and be encouraged to use the brains he undoubtedly had. There was a good deal of talk among the boys of course, but Billy sweated it through without problem. Thankfully, no one even suspected that their relationship was anything other than the platonic one of father and son, indeed some boys were even jealous of Billy's sudden improvement in lifestyle. The only person who showed any real interest in Billy fortunes was Kim, who still remained one of his best friends, he even came to his new home once in a while to play with him and generally hang out. Billy though, kept him at arms length in some ways. Although they were the best of buddies, Billy was aware that Kim had earned a certain reputation at school, one which wasn't doing him any good at all. Ever since their own sexual exploits had dwindled down to zero, Billy had noticed Kim was getting involved with a few other boys with similar reputations and was obviously 'having fun' with them whenever and wherever he could, causing more than a few obscene comments. The dragon which Billy had aroused in Kim was not going to lay down easily. Tom mentioned Kim's behaviour to Billy one day, not to criticise in any way, just to make sure that Billy knew. Billy told him about their earlier experiments together, and also a bit about Kim's puritanical parents. He also went on to say that he felt sorry for Kim in some ways: Billy and Tom had each other to love and have fun with, Kim had no one. The last chapter in Billy's old life ended when he discovered through neighbours that his mother and Brian had left the house and moved out of the area, no one knew where. For Billy it meant his old life was well and truly finished, and for Tom it meant he had the most handsome and sexiest young man in the world for a son. Life couldn't be better. The End. If you have enjoyed this story, why not try one of my others in a similar vein? List of longer my stories posted on the Nifty Stories site: Cairo Holiday /nifty/gay/highschool/cairo-holiday/ Forest House /nifty/gay/adult-youth/forest-house/ Gareth's Story /nifty/gay/highschool/gareths-story/ Garry and John Stories /nifty/gay/adult-youth/garry-and-john/ Life Is What You Make It /nifty/gay/college/life-is-what-you-make-it/ Tanta /nifty/gay/adult-youth/tanta/ Tom Brown's Schoolboy Coming soon Brian is Different /nifty/gay/adult-youth/brian-is-different/