Date: Thu, 28 Dec 2006 23:43:07 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Mark's: 20

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

				    by

				   Joel

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster  The story-teller:  Pennefather Organ Scholar
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams  His well-proportioned boyfriend
Shelley Price-Williams  Tris's sexually aware younger sister
Francis [Toad] Foster   Mark's sexually rampant younger brother
Ivo Richie Carr   Mark's cousin:  chunky and cheeky with it
Adam Benjamin Carr    Ditto, as his twin
Oliver Jensen   A Musical undergraduate with allure
Edward Jensen  Oliver's younger brother with extra allure
Fiona McKenzie  A Mathematical undergraduate with presence
Angus (Zack) McKenzie  Her younger brother, a young man with panache
Brandon McKenzie Her even younger brother with protective instincts
Gordon Foster      Father of Mark and Francis
Maria (Angelica Matteoli) Foster  Mother of Mark and Francis
George Carr    Farmer and father of the twins
Sophia Carr    Gordon's sister and mother of the twins
Professor Sven-Petter Jensen  The late Henry Foster's friend
Miriam Jensen  The Professor's wife.

          20.       Rolling down to Christmas.

Being home after being almost one's own master for the past eight weeks was
a bit strange.  But, I was glad to be home and soon after Tris and I had
dumped our bags in our kitchen, as Auntie Di was having an extra Bridge
afternoon, we were regaling Mum with the story of how the concert had gone
so well.

     "And Dr Henson said...," Tris was well in with the Chaplain having
volunteered to read the lesson two Sundays running when the appointed
reader had chickened out.  "...Your recital is scheduled for the Friday
before the end of next term.  Could you let him know what you want to sing
and what you would like the choir to sing as well."

     Mum laughed.  "The Mendelssohn for a start - or that will probably
finish the evening.  I'll sort out some other things over Christmas."  She
reached out and put her hand over his.  "I think we might even try a duet."
Tris blushed.  He had a very good voice and Mum wasn't joking.

     Anyway, any detailed plans would have to wait.  In any case we were
interrupted as Frankie arrived home from school with a piece of plaster
over one eyebrow.  He rushed up to Tris first and gave him a hug.  He
looked at me and I thought I would get the Toad sneer.  But no!

     "Gotta show you what Charles sent me for my birthday.  Won't be a
sec."

     He rushed off upstairs just leaving us in silence and able to drink a
bit more tea before he appeared again.  He reappeared much too soon for us
to have another of the teacakes Auntie Di had baked and left as a
peace-offering as she would be absent when her loving son returned home.  A
small red box, like the ones we four had been given at the wedding
breakfast, was brandished.  He put it down in front of me.  I opened it.
Inside was a Leopardi signet ring and a small card.  "To a most
accomplished young actor and cousin.  >From Charles, Count Leopardi"

     "Mustn't wear it at school but it's brill.  Uncle Nick says if Aldo
and Unc get hitched anytime I might have a title as well as Charles..."

     Mum laughed.  "I think Uncle Nick might be slightly exaggerating and
as Mark is older than you he would be entitled first."

     "Mum, trust you to spoil it.  But Charles said in the letter we could
visit Venice sometime and see the Palazzo.  Mum, could we?"

     "Yes, of course.  But it's a bit far from Uncle Francesco's and you've
got a busy year as you'll be taking your GCSEs after Easter."

     Mum nearly got the Toad special but he turned on me.  "And what did
you get me for my birthday?  It was last week and you did send a card,
but...."

     The 'but' hung.  Neither Tris nor I spoke.  There was a 'hoot' from a
car horn outside.

     "That's Dilys back.  I'd better go and see what she wants," said Mum
beating a hasty retreat knowing full well that the Toad was likely to be
teased.

     "It's OK, Microbe," said Tris, "Here's your present from both of us."
He opened his rucksack which was on the floor beside him.  "Oh, I forgot,"
he said, "Louie sent you a present as well."

     He drew out a neatly wrapped rectangular box.  Toad's eyes were fixed
on it.  One could almost see the cogs turning.

     "Cor, thanks," he said taking it and looking at the inscription 'To
Francis from his favourite torturer'.  He tore off the wrapping paper to
reveal a box of Boots tissues.  The change of expression on his face was
something to behold.

     Before he could respond I held up an even larger wrapped parcel.
"Toby sent this with his best wishes now you're sixteen."

     A quick glance at the label 'To Frankie from your ergometer pal' and
the wrapping was torn away.  This time a man-size pack of tissues from
Sainsburys.

     Simultaneously Tris and I drew out two more packs, "From Pete one of
the boaties you ran with," I said and handed it to him as Tris said, "From
Kasim, another of the runners...."  He had dived into his bag very quickly
and another was thrust at Francis, "...And this one's from Jammy who runs
their gym."  I fished out what was certainly a double pack.  "And finally,
from Elliott," I said.  Elliott was the Captain of Boats.

     Toad just stared at the unopened packages.  Each label was clearly
written and each was apparently in a different hand.  Each was undoubtedly
a pack, or more than one pack, of tissues.  Why had they sent them?  Why
him?  He looked at us.  I must say we never moved a facial muscle between
us.  Tris spoke.

     "Come on, Microbe, open your prezzies.  Let's have a look."

     The look was murderous.  "You bastards," he breathed, "You set this
up!
  What did you tell them?"

     Tris was so, so calm.  "What could we tell them?  You spent time with
them.  They all said what an active young man you were...  ....Anyway,
they've probably all got younger brothers so they know what younger
brothers need when they're active."

     Toad was in a quandary.  He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or
batter his brother and his friend to death.  The laugh just about won, the
battering might come later.

     "You bastards," he said again, "I suppose you told them what I left in
Tris's rooms."

     "It's only seven packs," I said, trying not to laugh too much as the
conflicting expressions rushed across his face, "What's that?  A week's
worth I should think."

     Tris shook his head and then we both erupted.  He laughed, "Kasim said
if you need more his Dad has a wholesalers and can get you a pallet-load if
you need..."
  He went across to Toad and gave him a hug.  "An active young man, eh?" he
said, "Good one that!  Got you hooked!"

     With Tris hugging him the fist aimed at me missed by a mile.

     "You wait," he said and tried wriggling out of Tris's grasp, "I'll
have the pair of you!"

     "Quieten down," said Tris, "It's all OK.  Your brother is just a good
forger."

     "F....uck y...ou bo....th!" he ground out.

     I went over and took hold of one of his prominent ears.  He stood
still as ears were precious.

     "Language!" I said, "Not the kind to use to a kind and generous
brother and his kind and generous friend."  I bent over and kissed his
forehead before realising I might be in a very vulnerable position as his
teeth were evident in the snarl.  I stepped back quickly and drew out a
substantial floppy package from my rucksack.  "But you are forgiven and
this is the present from us to you."  I paused.  "And really Frankie, it's
with all our love."

     Tris let go of him and he opened the package slowly.  In it was a set
of College sweats, a pair of St Mark's dark-red silky basketball shorts and
a singlet to match, running shorts with a tee-shirt and another jockstrap.

      "And Ivo and Adam sent you this," said Tris, handing him another
floppy package.

     His eyes lit up.  A St Mark's College rugby shirt, shorts and two
pairs of dark-red football socks.

     "And all that lot's forfeit if you don't get in," I said.

     "Except the tissues, of course," said Tris.

     All was forgiven as far as we were concerned, too.  We were hugged by
an ecstatic young man.  Yes, even in those few weeks since the summer
holiday he'd grown even more.  Sixteen last week and he was just a smidgen
shorter than me now.

     "Better get those packs upstairs before Mum comes back," I said, "I
don't want to have to explain what little boys use so many tissues for."

     He laughed.  "Too late.  I've been found out.  Dad's had the talk with
me in case I was worried.  Had to say I wasn't..." he was back to Toad,
"...I told him you'd explained all the theory...  ...and Tris had helped
with the practicals."

     Luckily for him we heard Mum close the garden gate.  Laden with the
opened and unopened packs he was upstairs within seconds.  Tris and I
quickly laid out his other presents on the kitchen table.  Mum took one
look.

     "I suppose that'll mean more washing."

     Mum though did have a welcome message.  Tris's Mum would be feeding us
all that evening.

     I waited for retaliation for the next couple of days.  None came.  All
was sweetness and light.  We found the plaster hid a cut experienced in the
scrum of a practice game.  Tris and I went with him on the Saturday for the
final game of the term when his team managed to win against a neighbouring
school.  We met up with a couple of other big brothers and exchanged
University tales and this whiled away the time while the teams were kicking
seven bells out of each other.  Toad emerged from the changing-rooms at
long last with a plastic bag of very muddy kit which he thrust into my
hands.  I also got an unaccustomed un- Toad smile. "Thanks for coming.  The
lads all wanted to know who you were.  Funny, the pair of you couldn't have
made much impression while you were at school.  I just said it was my
brother with his piece of tottie...."  He got no further.  Tris's hand
gripped an arm and the smile changed to a wince.

     "Last time I saw most of that lot they were snot-nosed little kiddies
who used to nearly wet their knickers when they saw one of us Prefects
approaching.  By the time I've finished with you you'll need a pair of
clean panties, too, and those packs of tissues will be quite superfluous to
requirement!"

     Irrepressible even in the face of great adversity.  He grinned at
Tris.
  "You'd better have them then!"  Tris let go.

     As Mum and Dad were both out for the evening we took him to the
nearest McDonalds where a post-rugby-playing appetite was alleviated by the
input of about the same amount of food as Tris and I had combined.  As the
last morsel disappeared and he licked his lips he looked over.

     "Thanks, I needed that.  Anyway, you two can have a quiet evening in
as I'm going to sleep over at Jack's.  He's got a new game we want to try
out..." A significant pause.  "...on his computer."  OK lad, you are
storing up riches and there will be moths, rust and corruption.  Just wait.
But then.  "It's OK.  I've promised Mr Prentice I'll play the out-going
tomorrow as long as you do the rest.  He can conduct the choir.  I'll be
there!"

     He got up, waved and was gone.  I still had a bag of muddy kit at my
feet.

     There was no-one at home next door either.  A note from Auntie Di.
'Taken Shelley to see Lion King.  Food in fridge.'  Two ready-made plates
just needing to be hotted up in the microwave.  At least four hours of
peace.  Four hours spent quietly and productively in my bed.  We did a
quick reappraisal of the snotty-nosed kids who were now, bigger, meatier
and prime subjects for conjectures about their bedworthiness.  We agreed
wholeheartedly that Duncan Prescott, now a hunky young second row forward,
would definitely not be kicked out of bed and for second helpings, a
dashing young flyhalf, Micky McShane, with shapely, but muddy, thighs would
be ideal for second helpings.  But, we decided on second thoughts, that
what we did have in bed was the best of all - each other.

     Both Tris and I had a stack of work to do so the next few days were
taken up with study, quiet contemplation, and, when parents were out
generally in the afternoons, periods of ardent love-making.  "Going to miss
you when I'm down in Dorset," I whispered as we separated after a second
joint load of boycream had been expended one afternoon and I had lain on
top of hm to feel that muscular young body as close to mine as possible.

     He licked across my lips with his long, wet tongue which sent another
frisson of desire somewhere between my legs.  "I'll miss you, too.  I'm
being truthful, it's agony when I don't see or hear you.  You'll e-mail me
every day, won't you?  Get the twins to let you use their computer, I want
all the news."  He kissed me tenderly.  "I want to know all about your
Grandad.  At least I've still got both of mine."  He laughed and licked my
lips again.  "But what Grandpa Price-Williams would say if he knew I was in
bed with a nice boy doesn't bear thinking..."

     Grandpa Price-Williams was, luckily, too far North and busy as a
circuit judge and Methodist lay-preacher to make many visits to stay with
his less-than-doting son and family in London.  Uncle Nick loved the Law
but his father, who had steered him into that profession, was rather too
prickly and rather intolerant of modern day morals, and especially youth,
to take kindly to his one and only grandson taking the homosexual path.  As
far as we knew he didn't know and Tris was unlikely to tell him.  Also,
given that Grandma Matteoli was mean, was nothing in comparison with the
Scrooge-like characteristics of Grandpa P-W.  One reason for not visiting
was that he refused to run a car and definitely begrudged the expense of
train fares.  Grandma P-W did have a car which was kept under careful
scrutiny for any possible overuse.  Uncle Nick had two sisters, both with
daughters, and they did the family thing but visited the old couple as
infrequently as possible although both lived within a few miles of them.
Uncle Nick looked on all this with an unjaundiced eye - he was generosity
itself - and often came out with a story from his boyhood days of his
father's rather fastidious and old-fashioned traits.

     "I think from the look in my Grandad's eye when he was a chorister he
wouldn't say much at all," I said.  We'd studied that photograph of the
young teenager and there definitely was a knowing look in his eye.  "And
Grandpa Matteoli didn't give his son the boot like Count Leopardi did his."
I brushed my lips against Tris's.  "If you had a son and he told you...."

      I could say no more as Tris hugged me to him and his open mouth was
pressed against mine.  As he drew back he murmured, "I would want him to be
happy in whatever he did.  Just like my Dad and your Dad want for us.
We're lucky, aren't we?"

     We couldn't prolong our love-making which we desperately wanted to do
after that exchange as it was getting on for the time for Frankie to get
back from school.  In fact, he only had one more day before the school
broke-up for the Christmas holidays and we were going to stay at the farm
for those.  Tris and I would be apart and, no doubt, I would come in for a
good amount of ribbing from the Thugs.  Tris's family were off to warmer
climes for Christmas - Barbados of all places.  I said I didn't want him
exploring any nice young hotel bell-boys.  He said they were probably
freely available on room service at the price his dad was paying for the
hotel.  His bollocks got a slight squeeze for that.

     Next day we went up into London.  He was going to his father's
Chambers to get some advice on some Law Reports he had to comment on.  I
was going to do my Christmas shopping and had quite a list.  I had decided
to spend a bit more of Uncle Francesco's largesse so first stop was
Selfridge's for a cashmere stole for Mum.  Dad was always a problem.
Still, Hill's was handy and I got him an assortment of 'fiddle fodder' as
he called it.  Rather expensive rosin for his bow and a couple of mutes and
a set of strings.  I mentioned he was playing one of the Ulvescott Al-Hamed
violins and the assistant pointed to another.  I rather gasped when I was
told the price.

     I was still gasping when I got to Foyles.  I had decided to get my own
copy of a Maths book which Louie strongly recommended and there was music
for me and a new copy of Elijah for Mum to get.  I was getting rather laden
down.  But I wasn't finished shopping yet.

     Tris and the Toad occupied my mind.  Tris was not too difficult as I
knew he wanted a new printer to go with his laptop he was constantly using
at College.  I'd found a brochure he had marked so I thought I would be OK
in choosing that one.  Toad wanted a new joystick with extra knobs and
controls - when I learned of this need I didn't comment on the fact that he
seemed well set up with the joy stick he already had between his legs,
mainly as the listing of wants had been made in mixed company - plus two
games, the names of which made no sense to me.  Armed with this almost lack
of knowledge I ambled along Tottenham Court Road and entered the first
large computing emporium that caught my eye.

     I was just in the door when a familiar voice said "Hello Mark, fancy
seeing you here!"  It was Fiona.  She had two large distinctive green
Harrods bags at her feet.

     "Same," I said, "but I think we're on the same errands.  Christmas
shopping." She laughed and held up one of the bags.  It seemed heavy.
"Like a coffee?" I asked, thinking I could also do with a sit down, too,
tramping London pavements was tiring and my dogs were beginning to bark.

     "Love one, but soon.  I've got to wait until my personal armed
response team reassembles."  She scanned a bit of the shop.  "Oh, good,
here comes one of them!"

     I looked and saw a very determined looking young man striding towards
us carrying a very large bag quite effortlessly.  He stopped in front of
Fiona and then turned and fixed me with an icy stare from strikingly blue
eyes.  He was slightly shorter than me and dressed in a smart black
overcoat and looked as if he meant business.

     "Mark, this is my brother Zack, Angus really but who cares, he's my
personal minder today with his assistant, eh Zack?"  The icy stare
continued.  "Mark's my Maths buddy with Dina and I told you, he's our
Pennefather Scholar like Dad was...."

     The icy stare melted somewhat.  I was known.  I stuck a hand out and a
very firm handshake followed.  I looked him also in the eye, then the face.
Gosh, if he was only sixteen he had the makings of five o'clock shadow and
it was barely midday.

     A very cultured baritone.  "Fiona's told me about you."  He smiled and
the iciness disappeared.  "I wanted to come to your Dad's recital but she
couldn't get a ticket.  She says you've met Dude....."

     "That's all the Inquisition for the moment."  Big sister was in
charge.
  "What have you bought?"

     The bag was opened.  A printer.  Thank you God.  A knowledgeable
helpmeet at hand.

     "That's just what I'm looking for," I said pulling out the brochure
from my pocket.  "Advice please."

     Before he had a chance to say anything another figure approached.
"Are you OK, Sis?"  More of a tenor register this time.

     "Oh, Mark," she said, "Meet Brandon.  He's my other minder."

     The introductions were repeated and a relaxed Brandon joined a visibly
more at ease Zack as I suggested we all went to the nearest coffee-shop.
Over coffee and muffins I was given a run-down of adolescent interests
which sounded so familiar from interaction with Toad.  Both were more than
helpful.  Brandon knew exactly which joystick was the desire of all boys -
no, I didn't say anything - and he was most voluble over the pros and cons
of the latest games.  Zack gave me a very articulate run-down on what was
really needed as far as printers were concerned.  Fiona sat, sipped and
smiled an enigmatic smile.  At one point she excused herself and went to
the loo.  Brandon had eyed the muffins on the counter and I said he should
get another couple for himself and Zack.  As soon as he went Zack leaned
over to me.  I was aware of the fragrance of a very expensive aftershave.

     "You've met Dude?" he asked.  I nodded.  "You know he's....."

     "I know he's gay," I said quietly, "I am, too," I smiled, "And the
printer I'm going to buy is for my boyfriend."

     He smiled and nodded.  "Dude's talked a lot to me.  He said he's met
you and your friend.  I'm not sure..."  He turned to check that Brandon was
still engaged at the till.  "When did you know?"

     "I think I always have but it was really when I was about fourteen, I
suppose."

     The smile was radiant.  He nodded again.  "Yes, fourteen.  I think I
knew then."  He cast a quick glance at his younger brother now balancing
two muffins on a rather small plate.  "Don't say anything, please, but can
I talk to you sometime as well?"  I nodded.  "You can tell Dude..."  A
plate was thrust at him.  "....Thanks, I'll have the choccy one, please."

     When we'd finished we went back to the store.  I gave a hundred pounds
to Brandon who whistled when the five crisp twenty-pound notes were handed
to him.  His instructions were to choose the best available joystick and
two of the most wanted new games.  Fiona went with him.

     The choice of printer took about three minutes.  I paid for that with
my credit card and that quick transaction gave Zack the chance to continue
his questioning and my conversation with him.  I found he'd never been
interested in girls - Fiona had been misled somewhat in her appreciation of
his interests here - he'd tried to be as macho as possible, helped to a
large extent by early development and his appearance.  He said he was
envied by his class-mates as he had to shave every day but the problem was
he had to be careful not to slice the spots.  No, he didn't have a very
close friend., though he thought he'd identified a couple in the same age
group who might be....  I said I'd been lucky.  He said his Dad and Mum
knew but Fiona and Brandon didn't.  I said I wouldn't say anything.  I told
him a bit about Tris and our relationship.  He smiled and said his Dad had
told him to talk with Dude and he'd explained a lot, but I could see he
needed to be reassured by someone a bit nearer his own age.  I suppose we
had about a quarter of an hour's chat before we thought we'd better join
the other two.

     "And did Zack give you good advice, Mark?" Fiona asked as we joined
them at the main door of the store.

     "Well, I had to tell him Tris would only want the best."  I smiled at
her.  She got the double meaning.  She looked at her brother who maintained
a superb state of equilibrium..  He knew what I meant, too, and I'd said he
could talk or correspond with either of us whenever he wanted.  Tucked in
the pocket of that immaculate outer covering of that boy- not-quite-sure,
was a piece of paper with our e-mail addresses and home phone numbers.  In
return I had his and Brandon's.

     Brandon was pleased too.  He held up three pence.  "Your change, Mark,
and everything is in the bag."

     I winked at him.  "Keep the change," I said, "And if things are not
right expect a call at dawn on Christmas Day from my brother!"

     As we parted at the Underground entrance where they would start their
journey back to Arkley, Fiona and Brandon went on down the stairs as Zack
handed me the printer bag he'd been carrying as well as his own.  "Thanks,"
he said, "I'm quite sure now!"

     I thought of that little exchange as I took the tube back to South
London.  Had he recognised something in someone who had come to terms with
his sexuality that had turned the key for him?  I smiled as I thought of
that.  I hoped I had been of help.

     Luckily I arrived home in time to hide the presents and to wrap up
Tris's printer as he would have to be given that before the family
departed.  Toad was rather inquisitive when he came home wanting to know
where I'd been I didn't dare say I'd met Fiona and her brothers in case I
was cross-questioned.  I thought what I would do was to put Brandon's
e-mail address on a Post-It note with the games saying in case of
disgruntlement get in touch with....  I managed to deflect any further
questioning by reminding him that the Thugs and Oliver's brother Eddie were
all arriving the next day and he'd better make sure Eddie had somewhere to
put his things in the bedroom.  Toad-like sneers ensued only disappearing
after I lobbed over a large bar of Cadbury's Fruit and Nut.  Sneers came
back when I remarked that chocolate was good for spots, ...it produced
more.

     That evening I was still thinking about the encounter with Zack and
also decided I would have a rest from Maths and do some serious reading - a
detective novel.  Just after ten I finished a chapter and said goodnight.
Frankie wasn't in evidence.  Tidying his room I doubted.  Mum said she'd
wait up for Dad as he would be home soon as he was playing at the Barbican
that evening and she had some soup and smoked salmon ready for him in case
he was hungry.  As I went up the stairs my thoughts flashed to Tris again,
I hadn't seen him since parting this morning.  I had a quick wash and
cleaned my teeth then went to my room and stripped off.  I was just
settling under my duvet, thinking hard about Tris and getting really hard
and ready to release my long-felt needs when the door opened and closed
quietly and my brother stood by my bed.  I was just about to tell him to
clear off in no uncertain terms when he lifted the duvet and slid in beside
me.

     "Roll over, Beethoven, I've got to talk to you urgently.  It's no good
when Mum's around."  He moved over closer and landed right against my
erection as I'd turned on my side.  "Oh, sorry, thought you'd have had
time.  I haven't either!"

     There was a pregnant pause.  I wanted him out of my bed.  He was too
bloody chirpy.  But I realised this was a front. He wanted to tell or ask.
He needed me.

     "What is it, Frankie?"  I said as calmly as possible, subduing the
urge to boot him out of my bed.

     For once he seemed a bit hesitant.  "Marky," he began, "Don't be angry
but I want to find out about girls like you know about boys.  I can't help
it."

     "No good asking me then is it, Cherub?"

     Frankie was used to being called different names.

     "You know what I mean," he replied putting an arm round me.  "Trouble
is I'm always like this..."  He pushed his body towards me so pressing my
hardon against his boxers-clad midriff.  I felt his now not-inconsiderable
erection almost side by side with my own.  "...'specially when Jack shows
me his folder I told you about before."
  He obviously thought I needed further details.  "He's got lots now that
he's downloaded and some of them are little videos..."  He stopped.
"...They've got nothing on and he says he puts them on slideshow when he
goes to bed and...."

     "I know what..." I said trying not to laugh at an image of the usually
so-serious Jack furiously beating off while a montage of flickering
beauties spurred him on.
  And there was Matt, too, with his collection of wank-mags.  All I ever
needed was my own internal montage of Tris - but I had to admit that was
sometimes accompanied by memories of Ivo and Adam as they showed off their
own beautifully developed bodies.  I flicked off that internal picture-
show.  Perhaps later when the Microbe had departed.....

     He'd sniggered when I said "I know what...."  Then became very serious
again.  He changed tack.  "I think Shelley is after me and I wouldn't
mind....."  He clutched my neck.  "Oh, Marky, I don't really like her, but
I help her with her maths homework and she nudges me and puts her hand over
mine and I get like this all the time..."  One arm was disengaged from my
neck and a hot hand gripped my rigid tool.  I kept very still.  "...She
always wants to show me something in her bedroom she's bought, or listen to
her latest record she's got, and then she dances around and wants me to
join in all up close and she wants me to take her to see some picture
before they leave....."  He paused for breath.

     His voice dropped to more of a whisper.  "One of Jack's movie pictures
looks a bit like her.  Jack says he doesn't half fancy that one and that'll
be Shelley in three or four years time.  He's got about three minutes of
her showing off and she's got her hand between her legs doing something to
herself at the end.  Oh Marky, after I helped Shelley with her homework on
Monday she was dancing to one of her records and looking at me, then she
shut her eyes and stuck her tongue out between her teeth and was rubbing
her hand up and down herself , you know, like, copying that girl on Jack's
film and I imagined her as that girl in the picture..."  His breathing was
getting faster....  ".....And I wanted to do it to her......  Oh, fuck!!"
He rolled partly away, let go, pushed away the duvet and rapidly yanked his
boxers down and began to fist himself furiously to the accompaniment of
increasingly faster intakes and exhalations of breath through his open
mouth.  "Oh God!" he mouthed as a series of four or so warm streams of his
boy spunk hit me just above my navel.  There was a full half minute's
silence, while his breathing rate returned somewhat to normal, and,
perhaps, to a contemplation of the enormity of showing his inability to
control himself for the second time to his big brother.

     My little brother was in distress.  Also I was aware, even more so,
that he wasn't so little now.  Although I'd seen him at times during the
last ten weeks I was really surprised at how much he'd grown in that time.
He was in an accelerated growth-spurt and was not only growing upwards with
lengthening arms and legs, he was now growing very fast down below as well.
That penis so vividly demonstrated just now was certainly more than a
single handful.  As he thrashed it up and down I guessed he was at least
six inches and a half inches probably getting on for seven now and he was
just sixteen.  I nodded to myself.  At that age I was getting on for seven
inches, too, having measured myself almost every week when I realised that
such sudden changes were taking place.

     Before he could say anything I turned and put my arms round him and
drew him so close mindful that we would be separated only by a thin film of
spread out semen and my own very erect prick stretched up between us.  His
breath was still coming and going in gulps and I knew he was weeping.
"Frankie, don't fret.  You couldn't help it.  Sometimes our passions just
take over.  Just like that time you painted my door."  I waited as his
breathing calmed a bit.  "Now you're scared in case you want to fuck
Shelley and it sounds as if she's really got the hots for you.  I noticed
at lunch on Sunday she insisted on sitting next to you and you were
wriggling about most of the time.  Big hard cock, eh?"  I stroked his back.
He shivered slightly.  "Don't be tempted.  It's too dangerous. You're
sixteen now and you're growing fast.  But remember there's the age of
consent and you may have reached it but she hasn't." He was still sniffling
but nodded slightly.  "And you can imagine Uncle Nick being confronted by
his daughter's increasing waistline."  I was warming to the topic.  "And
Tris.  The loving protective brother.  I can assure you as far as he would
be concerned it wouldn't be a shotgun marriage between the pair of you on
her sixteenth birthday but a shotgun up you, right where Edward the Second
had the red hot poker!"

     He was still sniffing but his chest was heaving.  "I can't help it,"
he managed to get out between heaves.  "It scares me."

     I rubbed my cheek against his.  "I know, Matey, guess what it's been
like having a gay brother and him surrounded by all the most desirable
young males."

     My perky little brother was back.  "But at least you can't get Tris
pregnant!  And what about the age of consent there! You weren't sixteen,
either of you, and as he's older he could have been held to be someone in
authority over a minor."

     "If I tell you a few secrets they're between us?"

     He nodded slowly.  "Of course."

     "First of all, Tris and I only did that once and only when we really
knew we loved each other.  That was when I was fourteen and he was fifteen.
We didn't do it again until I was sixteen and we knew even more we still
loved each other even though we hadn't loved each other in that way in
between.  I guess shooting your stuff into some girl the first time just to
find out what it's like is no big deal.  I guess for most it doesn't
involve love.  It's just a plain fuck."  His body seem to shiver again
slightly against mine.  I had hit on something by saying that.  It was
something he was just realising.

     I went on exposing more secrets.  "Ivo said his first was a disaster.
Some girl he'd been to a dance with.  He'd gone prepared and she was more
than willing, he said, and it wasn't her first time he knew.  He said he
was so worked up he no sooner had it in when he fired off."  I snickered
and Frankie did, too.  "Just like you just now and when you came to
Cambridge, no restraint - but I must say your firepower is awesome -
reminds me of your cousins that way."  I felt Francis's jaw muscles against
my face as he opened his mouth to say something.  Before anything came out
I continued.  "You and Jack aren't the only ones to have compared each
other's prowess."

     He did whisper something then - "How did you know?  I've never told
you!"

     "Two boys always together, growing up and watching things on
computers.
  You've told me before you've discussed things with Jack so my guess is
you've done a bit more than compare the size of your willies, eh?"  He
nodded and said nothing.  "It's no big secret, but you're cousins initiated
me long before I shot my first load."

     As he listened and snuggled against me and wriggled at all the juicy
bits, I recounted that fateful visit to Disneyland with Tris's censure of
the twins' behaviour before I was led, a willing lamb, to that early boyish
slaughter of my innocence.  I told him it was then I realised Tris was more
than just a boyhood companion.  I went on to tell him of my first true
ejaculation and the visits from the twins when we'd relived those earlier
encounters.

     He giggled when I said Adam's experience was even more galling than
Ivo's.  Primed by Ivo's experience of a premature ejaculation he thought he
would slow things down by tossing off beforehand.  Being Adam and a
stickler for getting things absolutely right and knowing he was often a
three-times a day lad it wasn't only once but twice during that afternoon.
I could picture Adam as he told me and I tried to portray that awful
realisation that, even though he'd managed to raise himself to a semblance
of rigidity, no amount of thrusting and huffing and puffing would blow his
house down or, more desirably, produce the desired orgasm.  Luckily, he'd
said without a hint of levity, he'd thought of the old Rugby song as it
fitted his exertions 'In and out went the prick of steel..' and that was
enough to drive him on to a climax.  He'd said the girl was over the moon
and wanted another fuck immediately as he'd turned her on so much but he'd
had to politely decline giving some inane excuse.

     "That sounds just like Adam," Frankie whispered, "He's so nice."

     I didn't remind him that Adam was uncertain and was still making his
mind up where his desires lay, and it seemed that was with Whippet at
present.  That would have to wait until things were clearer.  But finally,
I told him of my great love and yearning for Tris.  What we did was with
each other's consent and it was done with a feeling of unity, one with the
other.  "If Shelley wants you as a boyfriend you've got to make it clear
nothing more than a bit of kiss and fondle."  I tapped his backside as I
slid my hand down.  "No thought of putting that nice young penis in, even
if you both get desperate.  If you can't wait you'd better find someone you
don't know at all but you may be disappointed."  I tapped his bum again.
"Remember, you can only lose your virginity once so make sure it's with
someone you really want."

     "The twins are OK, though," said Francis ruminatively, "They lost
theirs with those two girls.  No love."

     "I lost mine with Tris.  And that was with love."

     He nodded then shook his head.  "It's difficult, isn't it?"

     "Yes, and we all have to make our own decisions."

     "Well I won't be fucking Shelley, willingly or unwillingly," he
sniggered, "I might find a nice boy instead."  He stopped and rubbed his
face against mine.  "I'm sorry, Marky, I shouldn't say that.  I know you
love Tris terribly and so do I.  It's like having two big brothers and I
want you to be happy and I want me to be happy, too.  Thanks for talking to
me and telling me so much.  Nesto was right though wasn't he?  You and Tris
and the twins at the Villa?"  I nodded.  "Wish I could have," he sounded
rather wistful, then stroked my arm.  "I feel so much better even if you
have a bigger cock than I do, but I'm still growing."  The hand strayed,
gripped, moved down, the skin was stretched and big-brother's seed joined
not-so-little-brother's seed.  He gasped as his brother's hair-trigger
slipped and the salvo was rather tremendous.  There were a few moments
silence as big brother got his breath back and he lay still.  "Sorry Marky,
I didn't mean that to happen."  He leaned up and kissed me as we squelched
even more together.  "But thanks, I've wanted to hold you there for ages.
Please don't be angry but Jack said he'd read that most older brothers tell
and do things to make sure their young brothers don't come to any harm."

     There was nothing to say.  I got him to kick off his boxers which were
round his ankles.  I used them to mop up most of the spunk, especially the
streamers I'd laid down on his stomach and chest.  He lay still as I did
this.  I dropped the boxers over the edge of the bed.  I put both arms
round him and he put an arm over my shoulder.  I kissed the tip of his nose
and two brothers slept.  During the night, two brothers woke and, with
assistance, two brothers came again and with soft kisses and murmurings
slept soundly until the urgent ringing of my alarm clock.

     I think that night cemented, in more ways than one, a really deep
friendship and new understanding between us.  He nuzzled my cheek as he
woke.  "I think that's the best night I've ever had," he whispered, "Better
get to my own bed before....."

     I leaned over and silenced him with a full-blown kiss.  We stayed like
that for a couple of minutes.  "...Better go," he said as we moved apart,
"Might happen again..."

     He hopped out of bed, scooped up the boxers, turned, displayed his
erect cock, grinned, kissed his fingers and silently left the room.  What
could I do but release my own tension.

     After breakfast I cornered him.  "Frankie, you know I'll have to
confess to Tris...."

     "....You'd better," he said, "And don't worry, he'll understand."  He
looked at me and smiled and shook his head.  "You are soooo lucky..."

       I was still eating breakfast when Tris appeared. Of course he wanted
to know what I'd bought him the day before and I said he'd have to wait and
see but it wasn't a season ticket for Kentucky Fried Chicken.  "Something
nice, I expect," was the response as we exchanged a morning kiss in the
kitchen under the watchful eye of Toad.

     Toad got up, having finished the fourth and last piece of toast Mum
had done before she'd disappeared upstairs to check on the Thugs' bedroom,
and kissed him too.  He slapped his back, rather to Tris's amazement, as
this was definitely not a Toad action..  "Gotta go.  Jack's coming with me
to the station to meet Eddie."

     As the backdoor closed Tris turned to me with a grin on his face.
"What's got into him?  He's almost human this morning!"

     I laughed.  "Tell you later!"

     At eleven there was a roar of a motor-bike engine.  The kitchen was
invaded and I heard Mum being greeted noisily by her two hunky nephews.
I'd been in the front-room playing the piano, quietly, while I told Tris
about the happenings of the night before.  As I reached the final bars of a
Chopin Nocturne he came over to me.

     "It's something that should have happened a long time ago."  He patted
my shoulder.  "Frankie idolises you.  You're the big brother made in Heaven
and now you've shared something with him I hope you'll both treasure."  He
bent over and brushed my ear with his lips.  "I'm sorry it's something I
could never experience.  I wonder what my brother would have been like if
I'd had one."  He sniggered.  "Not mad on bloody horses I would hope, but
it sounds if the sexual urges are rising in dear Shelley.  It's funny.  She
more or less ignores me but it looks as if she has set her sights on
Microbe.  He'd better watch it.  I've seen her gyrating to that foul music
and she looked mesmerised by it.  I hope it won't be her downfall.  You
know, a couple of drinks and a persistent beat...."  He grinned.  "...Like
at the Club.  God!  That gets me going!"

     I was laughing to myself.  True.  Tris was always a very ardent lover
after being at the Club. I hoped I was, too.

     The door swung open and the Thugs grabbed us between them.  "Thought
you two would be in here."  Adam sniffed.  "Definite aroma of nefarious
activity on the piano stool."

     "Speak for yourself, Bro, you had your hand in my pocket most of the
way here."

     "Only holding on.  It was either your love handles or that midget
digit of yours.  Actually it's not quite as worn away as I would have
thought."

     "Constant activity is good for it.  Think of all those rich boaties,
most of those are rather lacking."

     Tris and I looked at each other.  "What do you mean?" asked Tris, ever
the one to field the lobbed projectile.

     "Never noticed?" said Ivo, "The poor ones are always well hung."  He
looked so serious.  "They never had toys when they were kids."  He looked
from Tris to me.  "Blast!  Theory's wrong.  You two ain't poor."

     "Does he never stop?" asked Tris knowing that there was no answer to
that.

     We all went to the kitchen, luckily big enough to accommodate a number
of large bodies, plus poor Mum, who was joining in the repartee very
happily.  Dad came in from the Shed where he'd been practising and the
cacophony grew.  The Thugs and he had a great rapport and we listened while
they were sensible for once for about ten minutes.  Ivo was going for an
interview at the Foreign Office at the beginning of January and would hope
for an appointment as soon as he'd finished his degree.

     "Going to follow in Grandad's footsteps if possible," he said, "Even
with this government."  We all knew Uncle George's views on the present
farm policy so his son's proposed career would raise a few comments over
Christmas.

     "And I had an interview with the Master yesterday," said Adam.  He
looked very pleased.  "Depending on my results I could be offered a Junior
Research Fellowship.  Simon's backing it though I don't really want to work
with him.  It's the College history again.  The Master has had some money
promised by Bryce's family in his memory so it's a bit delicate, too.  The
Master thinks I can handle it and I've got to see someone at the Australian
Embassy to put forward an outline of attack.  Got to work on that this
holiday."  He grinned.  "No holiday!"

     I think all were most impressed at the plans.  Their three years at St
Mark's were rapidly coming to an end.

     More disturbance.  Frankie led the way followed by Oliver's brother
Eddie, then the usual solemn Jack.  I gazed at Eddie.  If Oliver was built
and looked like a Greek God his younger brother just about surpassed him.
His beauty was flawless.  His blond wavy hair surmounted a face which
looked so innocently handsome.  His lips were parted in a look of
unadulterated joy at seeing the Thugs.  Though Tris was present I felt a
surge in my loins.  I looked at Tris.  He was staring, too.  I remembered
the same reaction I'd experienced when meeting Eddie the first time at the
Garden House Hotel when Mother and Aldo were reunited.  Now, he would be in
the house here.  Nay, he would even be in bed with my brother.  I wondered,
knowing Oliver's orientation whether his younger brother....?  But Oliver
said he was sure he was straight.  If he wasn't I thought my brother was in
for an interesting time.  He might end up not being a virgin.  Lucky lad.
But even if he was straight, and knowing Frankie as I did now, I guessed
there would be ample use for all those tissues.

     Mum shooed us all out of the kitchen and Dad, after greeting the lad,
beat a hasty retreat back to the Shed.  Jack was obviously entranced as
well, both with the Thugs and with the new visitor.  Most of the
conversation was about the impending nuptials with the Thugs enacting their
version of how Charles would cope, or wouldn't cope.  As there was another
week before we all went to the reception, then departing for the farm on
the Sunday after, we had the Thugs and Eddie for the next seven days.  I
just hoped Mum could survive.

     Survive we did.  Actually the Thugs were delightful company.  Eddie
was kept busy being taken around and paraded before all Frankie's multitude
of friends.  The pair were ideal companions and I noted Jack wasn't
excluded and he appeared with regularity whenever anything was been planned
or had been accomplished.  We four older ones spent a couple of days
exploring bits of London I hadn't seen as both Ivo and Adam were inveterate
sightseers.  I found the ideal Christmas present for them from Tris and me
- matching very up-to-date motorcycle helmets which I had to smuggle
indoors while they were giving the lowdown - their version - of Tris's
doings at College to his Mum.

     Mornings it was noticeable the self-satisfied looks on both the
younger lads' faces.  Faces that betrayed nothing but complete contentment
with each other's company.  There would be careful questioning once I got
Toad on his own.

     Still, we had the Wedding Breakfast to come, as the very ornate
invitations announced.  Mother looked superb and Aldo played his part very
well.  Charles was euphoric.  He had on a very beautiful burgundy coloured
frock-coat, frogged with ornate swirls of black braid and just about
overshadowed the rest of the wedding party.  It was his day really but we
lads, me in my brocaded jacket, Tris in a slightly less flamboyant cut,
Oliver, Eddie and Frankie in dinner jackets and the Thugs in full Highland
gear, claiming that Great-grandad Foster must have been a Highland chief,
were photographed with him in all sorts of poses.

     The Price-Williams family were going off to Heathrow early on the
Sunday morning so I'd left him his present to be opened.  We had ten
minutes of quiet togetherness in my bedroom on our return from the
Dorchester hotel.  "See you New Year's Eve," he said as we parted.


     Next day just the four of us departed for the farm as soon as
breakfast was over with the Thugs preceding us on their bike.  Eddie had
joined up with his brother the night before and would be travelling down to
their grandparents by train during the day.  As usual, on arrival, we were
made so welcome.  Uncle George was his customary bluff self.  It was so
evident where the Thugs got their good-humoured, real old English,
characteristics from.  Auntie Sophie was so down to earth and couldn't have
been more motherly to all us boys.  She and Dad were off chatting as soon
as we got there just before lunch.  I was in with Frankie so managed to
have a word or two as we unpacked.

     "Before you ask," he said as soon as the bedroom door was shut, "I'm
not telling you anything if you start taking the piss."  He grinned at me.
"On the other hand you'd better take the piss or I might get confused.  You
and the Thugs keep me amused."

     I thought I would try.  "As much as Eddie?"

     I got a vigorous waving of two fingers and the sort of look designed
to keep me wondering.

     Enlightenment came once we were in bed that evening.  Without any
prompting Frankie rolled over to me and put an arm over my chest.  "Eddie's
not gay," he whispered, "But he's as horny as Hell."  There was a pause.
"Marky, it's odd, they say about girls being beautiful, but..."  I felt him
shake his head against me.  "..he's something, isn't he?"

     I couldn't resist it.  "Am I detecting a certain gayness in my
outwardly macho brother?"  I left out the customary 'little'.

     He gave the characteristic Toad sniff but I knew he was serious.  "If
I'd been with him much longer I think I would have to...."  He stopped and
the arm tightened across me.  "..It's true what Jack said about his Dad's
research.  When I was with him in bed I never thought of girls at all."

     "Don't tell me if you don't want too, but..."

     His head shook against me.  "..But we did do something so beautiful.
He said he'd never done it before either, but..."  Another pause.

     "I know.  The first time Tris and I discovered what our tongues could
do to that ridge.."  I stopped.

     He was obviously reliving that experience as he snuggled his head
against my shoulder.  "He showed me first.  He said he heard about it at
school, so had I, but I didn't know..."  He rubbed his face against my bare
shoulder.  "...I couldn't help it.  It just set me off.  I thought he was
going to choke.  It frightened me but I pulled him up and I tasted it, too.
That was me...."  He shook his head again.  "...That was me and then I did
it to him.."

     I had to be honest.  "To tell you the truth I think I'm very jealous.
I've got Tris and we love each other very deeply but we've both said that
Eddie would be an object of veneration and would be someone to think of in
bed at night."

     "Do you think I like both?" he asked.

     "I don't know.  It's something you'll have to work out as time goes
on."  I knew I could say things without going into details.  "We both know
someone who is still seeking to find out his true nature.  He's finding
it's difficult but he's recently met someone who is likely to help him..  I
think he'll resolve it but it'll take time and friends who understand and
can help him."  I stroked the back of his head.  "If you ever want to talk
there's always me and Tris.  Just straight talking I can assure you.  We
want the best for you..."

     I stroked the back of his head again and he was quiet and relaxed.  He
was asleep.  But sometime during the night his floodgates opened and I was
awakened by a warm spray of his incomparable boyseed over me.  He slept on
oblivious of that gift.  A few gentle strokes released my own streams and I
slept again.

     I was awoken by him nuzzling my neck.  "Marky," he whispered, "I've
had the most wonderful dream..  I can't remember much but I know I'm happy
and I'm sure you are, too.  I'll find my way I know.  Adam will be OK,
won't he?  I know what you said that week I stayed with you.  He wasn't
quite as happy as usual all the time except when he was with Oliver.  But
it's not Oliver he'll be with.  I think he's still looking.  That's right,
isn't it?"  I nodded and put his hand on my still rather sticky stomach.
"In the night?  I didn't know."


     Christmas Eve was taken up with all sorts of preparations.  We had a
huge dinner in the evening before we all went off to Midnight Mass at the
local village church.  The very nice lady organist asked if I would like to
play at the end of the service.  She had a book of Christmas pieces so I
chose 'In Dulci Jubilo' by Buxtehude which sounded just right on the very
clear-sounding small two-manual organ.

     Of course, Toad was awake and wanting to go downstairs to open
presents at 6 a.m.  Christmas morning.  I was prodded awake and I made
unkind comments about little boys who acted six instead of sixteen.  Still
rather comatose I was rolled on top by a definite sixteen-year-old whose
priapic state was readily evident.  Several suggestive shifts of his hips
followed and I wondered if Aunt Sophie's washing machine would stand
further encrusted sheets.  But, the Thugs must have been substantial
producers of seminal fluid at his age.  I knew they did!

     "Stop that!" I said and tried to raise myself to buck him off.  "Go to
the bathroom and clean your teeth," I snarled as best I could using the
euphemism he would understand.

     "Spoilsport," he said and bounced up and down a couple of times more.

     My own hard-on was pressed on during these antics and he was no
lightweight thumping up and down on my chest and stomach.

     "I think you're shrinking, too." There were three more movements which
rubbed his erection along mine.  "Eddie'll give you a run for your money
soon."

     "Is that so?  From personal experience and comparison, eh?"  I managed
to roll him off and caught his legs by scissoring mine round just below his
knees and got my arms round him as well.  He was held firmly.  "Yes, I
expect those rosy lips of yours were stretched to full extent to
accommodate whatever he had to offer and he, poor lad, had to make do with
that minuscule organ of yours.  Beauty and the bee sting, eh?"

     "Oh, Marky," he said his chest heaving against me.  "You're getting
better.  Nearly as good as the Thugs."  He managed to jerk his hips again.
"I think we'd better both go and clean our teeth."

     I smacked his arse and shoved him off the bed.  He gave me the usual
two-fingered salute as he opened the door and went along the corridor.  He
was back within moments.  "Oh fuck!  There's someone in there already.  I
think it's Adam and it sounds as if he's being sick."

     As Adam had consumed what seemed the best part of a bottle of very
nice burgundy at supper last night he was fairly comatose during the
service in church.  We had also drunk a toast 'to the morrow' on return, so
I wasn't surprised at the news.  But here was Toad sporting a hard-on on
full display and almost dancing from one leg to the other.  I reached out
and lobbed the box of tissues on the side table to him..

     "Carry on, Insatiable," I said, "I promise I won't watch."

     "Come on," he said withdrawing a substantial handful, "You need one
too and it's not that you're not used to it, old-timer."

     I did the wrong thing.  So used to grabbing him and chastising him I
got out of bed.  He pointed at my lengthy tool pointing straight up my
belly and thrust the tissues in my hand.  "Shouldn't take long the state
you're in," he said, "I'll try not to beat you to it."

     What a way to celebrate the start of Christmas Day.  Two brothers
facing each other synchronising strokes until Toad's eyes widened, his
mouth gaped and what could only have been the most ginormous volley of
boycream shot forth to be caught with dexterity with tissues in the other
hand.  My own orgasm erupted seconds later and, unfortunately, I wasn't so
co-ordinated as he was and the first squirt missed my hand and hit him as
it dropped on his thigh.  At least I had power and distance, but I knew I
would never hear the end of it.  He watched, gasping a bit after his own
exertions, as my jerking midriff matched the spurts into the now in place
bunch.  He smiled.  No sneer at being shot at and hit fair and square.

     He rushed to me, his prick beginning to flop, the wad still held
against his end, drops of my spunk in the growth of hair on his thigh.  His
other arm was flung round me.  "That was super brill," he breathed, "Wait
till I tell Tris.  I'll big it up don't worry!  Caught Marky tossing off
because you're not there.  Biggest cock and biggest load you've ever seen!"
He landed a kiss on my lips.  "No I won't.  I promise.  You tell him,
though.  Thanks."

     We got back into bed after he'd wiped his leg and scrunched the two
damp wads together and put them on the floor.  We hugged each other and
giggled uncontrollably.  I wasn't the staid, grown-up, nineteen-year-old, I
was the joyful young teen I knew I was inside.  Someone had said to me once
that inside every grown man is the little boy.  I felt that was very true.
We lay for ages just savouring each other's presence until Toad sniffed.

     "I think we'd better get up and wash.  There's an awful stink of randy
boy under this duvet!"


     All assembled in the big parlour at eleven o'clock after the usual
huge cooked breakfast that was Aunt Sophie's speciality.  Adam had pecked,
I had noticed, at toast and marmalade and nothing else.  Toad's sneers were
minimal as he looked at me and nodded at his sickly cousin.  But now he was
hovering near the Christmas tree which was surrounded by parcels of all
shapes and sizes.  Uncle George was in charge and swatted Toad away as he
got too close.

     "You'll get you're new Teddy in all good time and I think there's a
little bag of sweeties as well as a nice colouring book for you, unless
Ivo's had it already and filled it in."

     He didn't essay the complete Toad sneer to that but pushed nearer the
tree.  "Come on, Unc, it's gone time and you'll be wanting a whisky soon."
He got a thump on his arm for that.  Uncle George always maintained that
one should not imbibe before midday but often had a glass of beer
mid-morning, only if the blasted Man from the Ministry was coming, so he
said.  If so, the Thugs averred, the Man from the Ministry seemed to call
most days.  So, Toad was allowed to pick up the parcels one by one and hand
them to Uncle George who had a line in repartee which had been handed on
genetically to the Thugs I thought.  Also, sixteen-year-olds could still
act the part of the six-year-old on Christmas mornings.  Mum was smiling.
She whispered 'He can be endearing at times...'  Such times as displaying
his masturbatory prowess to his older brother, I thought.  A thought
quickly suppressed before the usual spasm of desire hit my nether regions
and the thought I'd also displayed my own potency to an admiring sibling
only five hours ago.

     Mum was smiling even more as the first parcel was the one from Toad
and me.  I'd told him I'd bought the quite expensive cashmere stole from
both of us and I would pay as long as I got something worthwhile from him.
I think we were all smiling by the time all the presents were opened.  Adam
was a bit more recovered and he and Ivo donned their motorcycle helmets and
Aunt Sophie said at least you couldn't hear what they were saying with them
on.  I got a complete Matteoli rig-out, discounted said Mum, and Toad was
suitably impressed with his presents.  I opened an envelope and in it was a
present from Uncle Nick and Auntie Dilys - a ticket to 'Tristan and Isolde'
in the front row of the Balcony at the Royal Opera House in April.  I
looked at the price of the ticket - WOW!  There was a note that Tris would
be sitting next to me.  An even bigger WOWW!  Uncle George was particularly
pleased with a case of Pouilly Fume from his ever-loving sons, as he put it
to cat- calls from both of them.  Toad's present to me - which he could
only have known about care of Louie - were three hefty mathematical tomes
for my second year - if you pass this year, he said, with the most
exaggerated Toad grimace.

     We all went for a walk before Christmas Day lunch, scheduled for four
o'clock.  Dad stayed behind to help Aunt Sophie and Mrs Dacre from the
village get all ready.  I was surrounded on both sides by Ivo and Adam as
we walked behind the main party - mainly as Adam said he might be sick
again.

     "How's the masturbatory midget," said Ivo, I hope meaning Frankie, now
close on three inches taller than him, which he did, "Keeping you awake,
eh?"

     "Thought you had black rings under your eyes this morning," said Adam
from the other side..  "Must cramp your style having the human sperm whale
in bed with you.  But, then you're used to that other sexaholic!"

     "Speak for yourself, but I have the impression Ivo had a quiet night
last night, except for you puking your guts up!"

     "Touche, ducks, but I heard the scurrying of little feet while I was
seeing if my ring was floating in the bog."

     "You do have a colourful way of putting it."

     "The technicolour rainbow I think it's known as," said Ivo, reaching
round and giving his brother a blow on his biceps.

     "Bollocks, bro, it's your fault mixing that cocktail I had earlier.
Shagbag put everything in the cabinet in it I'm sure.  Tasted OK if a bit
potent to start with, but boy, did I suffer later.  Shouldn't have had the
wine on top."

     "Never knows when to stop - like other things - but at least I didn't
have to hear him choking his little mouse last night."

     "Wrong, twat, it's chicken!"

     "What!  That thing's more mouse-sized than a good round capon!"

     Oh, God!  They were off again.  I interrupted.

     "That was Frankie.  Rampant as ever!"  I thought I might as well
divulge the truth as it might set up a few gibes from the revered and
feared Thugs later.  "He's like you two, never stops." I thought I would
get that in first.  Here goes. "Comes back in, all concerned, cousin
chundering."  I knew that term from perusing Private Eye.  "Demands big
brother joins him in joint ceremony."  I sniggered at their rapt attention.
"I caught him a direct hit inadvertently and if Mrs Dacre looks under the
bed she'll find the evidence in spades!"  I'd suddenly remembered neither
of us had picked up the clump of tissue.  Both knew of the princely
birthday gift of a multitude of boxes.  In fact, Adam had bought three of
them in the Pound Shop at forty pence each or three for a pound.  "Lad's
got good reserves, I'll say that for him..." I thought I might get in a
double sizeist gibe while I could.  "..Even more, I'd guess, than his
little cousins."

     I was squashed between them though they were highly amused.  They had
plenty of ammo to tease Microbe but they would have to watch it as he now
towered over them.

     Lunch was stupendous, even Toad looked replete.  I showed my new-found
skill at carving by dissecting the large bird very expertly.  We had
started with a glass of champagne from two bottles sent by Count Charles
Leopardi and La Contessa.  In the box was tucked a set of enlargements of
us lot at the reception - sorry, Wedding Breakfast with capitals.  Aldo and
Uncle Francesco had sent separate cheques for all us boys, including Tris,
with another invite to visit the Villa.  "I want to see the Palazzo,
though!" was Toad's comment.

     He'd kept quiet about the Post-It notes until we went to bed that
night.  I told him I'd met Fiona in the computer shop.  I had to tell him
quickly it was all unarranged - he was very protective of Tris I knew and
would think I was seeing her behind his back and I might be succumbing - I
convinced him it was nothing like that.  He was amused at the description
of the two brothers as her personal SWAT team and I said I would have been
annihilated if I hadn't been recognised as a friend.  I said that young
Brandon had chosen his presents, which he'd raved about on opening them,
and that Zack had advised me on the printer for Tris.  I didn't go into any
details about Zack except that he was also taking his GCSEs this coming
year and wanted to go to St Mark's.  He brightened at this as Eddie was
also a likely confrere.  "Can I meet them?" he enthused, "That Brandon
certainly knew what was mega.  I'll send him an e-mail as soon as poss."

     I would be sending Zack one too.  I also needed to send one to Tris.
I wasn't exactly pining but there was a hollow that needed filling and I
didn't necessarily mean that!!  At least the Thugs realised I was missing
someone but Adam couldn't resist clutching me rather drunkenly as Ivo and I
helped him upstairs that evening and whispering rather too loudly as we
dropped him on his bed, "Better get the little bugger on his knees tonight
and say 'Let us spray'".  Even Ivo gave him a clump for that rather dubious
bit of advice.

     On Christmas night Frankie and I cleaned our teeth separately and
slept the sleep of the innocent.  We four boys had a busy day Boxing Day
again as we were to visit Oliver and Eddie and their grandparents and we
would hear something about our Grandad.

     Dad drove us the few miles to the very beautiful converted barn where
Professor Jensen and his wife lived.  Oliver and Eddie had rushed out as
soon as we arrived and after greeting us took us up the path from the drive
to where their Grandfather was waiting.  I remembered him from the ceremony
but hadn't spoken to him then.  He was tall like his grandsons, with a
neatly trimmed white beard and a real twinkle in his eye.  We were ushered
in and met his wife who was not much shorter and she welcomed us with open
arms.  I looked around. The place was very open plan and seemed just filled
with shelves of books.  Oliver had told me his grandfather was an expert on
inscriptions and had deciphered a load of important Greek documents as well
with a lady colleague.  Anyway, we soon had coffees and biscuits and
Professor Jensen laid out a whole series of photos all neatly labelled.

     He pointed at the array.  "Your Grandad and I were joint Head
Choristers the year before old Augustus died, I was Cantoris side, Harry
was Decani, but we'd been together in the choir for some years.  Augustus
took all those early photos.  It was his great hobby."

     There was Grandad from the age of seven onward.  Seven was when he
joined the St Mark's choir as a little chorister.  There he was with his
best pal in evidence, Sven-Petter Jensen.  Professor Jensen explained his
father had been in the Swedish Embassy and had taken the opportunity of
off-loading his son while he and his wife could enjoy the London scene in
the 1930's.  All said with affection, both for his parents and most
definitely for his friends in the choir, especially Henry Foster.

     Amongst the photos there was Henry and Sven always together, in top
hats, Eton collars and short gowns assembled ready to walk from the Choir
School to the Chapel; in long shorts, striped football jerseys and large
leather football boots; in bathing trunks just about to jump in the river;
in surplices and ruffs looking more angelic than the angels in the stained
glass windows above their heads; then as mature undergraduates, with a pint
pot in their hands, or sitting on the banks of the Cam, looking grave as
they had both come back from the War to a country still struggling with
rationing and unrest.

     Next there were pictures of two weddings and later.  Bridegroom and
Best Man interchanged in the wedding ones; in the later ones the two
families, a son and daughter each.  There was Dad and Aunt Sophie as babies
and then as small children.  Finally there was Grandad with his son in
white tie and tails holding his violin.  Dad was fourteen and that photo
was taken just before the recital.  Grandad looked so proud.  I glanced at
Frankie and Dad through tear-filled eyes.  There were tears there as well.
Ivo went to Dad.

     "We never knew Grandad, but I think we do now."

     After Professor Jensen had described all those on show I asked what
Augustus had been like.  He smiled, "I can tell you quite truthfully I
think that Augustus was the nicest man you could ever meet.  He never had a
harsh word for any of us and as noisy and spirited as we were, one look and
there was silence."  He smiled.  "He was a great practical joker, he loved
puns and he was a good conjurer."

     "I remember once," he said, "We had a second visit from a very boring
Bishop.  Mr P, as we always called him, was looking just as bored as us.
He always had a big white hankie tucked up his sleeve, but after about
twenty minutes of tediousness he suddenly went as if to sneeze and drew out
a Union Jack instead.  The Bishop couldn't make out why all the choristers
and half the students in the congregation, who were still awake, burst out
laughing.  It certainly wasn't because of his thoughts on Jeremiah or
Methuselah.  Then again, I'd torn my red surplice when I was one of the
Head Choristers and when it came back from being mended we were all lined
up ready for the service in the vestry and he came along the line,
apparently saw a loose thread and pulled, and out came a string of silk
flags.  He'd got the seamstress to sow them in.  Of course, we all had the
giggles and it was a good job the first hymn was 'All Things Bright and
Beautiful' as we all had smiles on our faces instead of looking solemn.
And the Christmas party was always a hoot when he did conjuring tricks.  He
made your Grandfather disappear and the College cat appeared instead.
Harry would never tell how it was done, but I guessed it was a box with a
revolving middle inside."

     He looked serious now.  "But he did take more private photos, but
nothing too far out of the ordinary.  One of my more unkind colleagues once
asked if he was like Lewis Carroll had been with little girls but with
little boys... "

       He then opened an album which had been on the far side of the table.

     "...This is my Pennefather bequest," he said.  He turned the page and
we craned to look.  There he was aged about twelve just swathed round with
a piece of gauze looking exactly like a version of the Botticelli boy hung
at Uncle's Villa.  I noted in the right-hand corner of each was a faint
capital A.

     As he turned the pages there were at least a dozen more of him, each
recognisable as a pose from a painting, the last in the famous pose of
Bacchus holding a bunch of grapes.  He pointed at it.  "He took that in my
last year - I was thirteen and a bit.  It was May 1937 and I'd just won a
Classics Scholarship to Rugby.  After he died they found a parcel addressed
to Dad, at the Embassy, and this was in it.  My father kept it for me and
presented it to me on my wedding day.  I wonder what happened to all the
others he took?  I know he did the same one of your Grandad as Bacchus on
the same day and Harry kept eating the grapes and making me giggle.  He
always took us in pairs or threes as he didn't want anyone saying about us
being nude alone with him.  As far as I know he wasn't interested in us
other than as choristers or photographic subjects."  He smiled.  "You know
how he would be labelled today and the stink it would cause."  He paused.
"Actually, those last few weeks before we broke up for the vacation and I
was leaving St Mark's he did seem very withdrawn and almost distracted.
When I heard he'd been found drowned the next year I just wondered if he
was ill.  Later I've wondered if it was anything to do with his
photographs."  He shook his head.  "I don't know.  All a mystery and so
long ago now."

     Adam then told him about the rhyme and what Jason had said.  He put
the photograph he'd taken of the rhyme on the table.  Professor Jensen
nodded.  "There was always a rumour that Augustus had a secret son but
nobody took any notice of it.  That rhyme does rather confirm it though, if
your analysis is correct.  It sounds most plausible and you could check a
few things.  Births at the time.  I guess that you would have to go to the
local Registrar's office and ask to search.  If, as you say, it was your
Jason Knott's great-great-grandmother I expect her name was Knott as she
was unmarried.  Give it a try and let me know if you need any help.  I
still come to Cambridge a couple of times a term."

     We looked at the photos again and Ivo commented on how much the four
of us had resembled our grandfather as boys.  "Mum's got all those photos
of us on the beach at Weymouth and the ones of all of us that time we went
to Disneyland.  Of course you can't really tell which is Dumbo here and the
real one he was standing by."  He poked Frankie in the back and flipped one
of his ears and was rewarded with the usual sneer.

     "I don't know," said Adam, "I'm always confused by that one of Minnie
Mouse and him.  It's those bi...ig eyes and the little snub nose.  Very
cute!"

     I said nothing, but I was thinking.  First of all, let him deal with
the Thugs in his own way.  Anyway, he and Eddie disappeared up the wide
stairs as there was a new computer program to be discussed.  I had to play
the very nice baby grand and then sat while we lads bemoaned our overload
of vacation work.  Both the Thugs would be in the term leading to Finals.
I think both were quietly confident.  Tris's first part of his Tripos was
coming soon as well and he said he still had stacks of reading to do.
Oliver and I as lowly first years were coming to terms with the workload
and our own first year exams and I knew I had little time to waste.
Anyway, such is life, as Ivo said.

     I then started to say what I'd been thinking about.

     "If Mr Pennefather took all those photos, who developed them?  You
see, if there is an A in the corner of each that must have been added when
they were developed and they look a bit better quality than those snaps
I've seen from that time that Uncle George has got.  So, did he have a
darkroom somewhere?  He'd need a sink at least as well.  I suppose the
rooms might have been altered since he died."

     All were looking at me.  I shook my head. "I haven't seen any evidence
but perhaps the kitchen has been completely rebuilt over what was there
originally.  I suppose the cupboards and the oven and so on have been
renewed recently."

     Professor Jensen nodded.  "As far as the photos are concerned I think
Augustus must have developed them himself.  He always brought them to show
us the next day, I'm sure.  But as for where his darkroom was, I do not
know.  He was always taking photos so he must have had his equipment
somewhere.  There are enlargements of two of the Masters in the Senior
Common Room and they were by him.  Yes, a very good point."

     So more mystery but we might be able to find out something.  Adam said
he would check the records when we got back to College.

     Of course, Eddie and Frankie were first at the table for lunch.  I
heard Adam whisper 'Guts!' to Frankie as they sat side by side and Frankie
prepared to attack a laden plate of cold ham and turkey plus a huge helping
of bubble and squeak.  As Adam had an equally laden plate I wondered if he
realised he was winding laddo up just a bit.

     Of course, plates were laden again that evening at the farmhouse.  As
Uncle George was an early riser because of the farm work they tended to
favour early nights so it wasn't much after ten when we all said our
goodnights and the 'grown-ups' went off to bed first.  I wasn't interested
in the film the Thugs said they wanted to finish watching on the telly and
I could see Toad was twitching.  I thought I'd be a step ahead and went up
to our third floor bedroom - once two of the bedrooms for servants knocked
together - to undress first and to pack some of the things I'd received
although we still had a couple of days to go.  I'd carefully folded my new
Matteoli jacket and trousers and had put other things ready for my bag when
there was sounds of a slight scuffle outside.

     In came the Thugs carrying a protesting Toad.  They were clad just in
boxers.  A silently protesting Toad as Ivo had a hand securely clamped over
his mouth.  He was dumped unceremoniously on the double bed but still kept
anchored by strong arms.

     "Found this creature skulking in our bedroom when we came out of the
bathroom," said Ivo, not out of breath at all even after lugging about ten
stone of solid boy along the corridor - of course, helped by his equally
brawny brother.

     "I think he should be suspended by his thumbs again," said Adam,
producing a couple of school ties he'd obviously snatched up.  Toad's
wrists were quickly securely tied to the bedhead.

     "Good," said Ivo, "That'll keep him from running off!!"

     "We have to tell you, Marky, he was up to no good as usual," said Adam
running his index finger down from Toad's throat to his navel as the shirt
he was wearing was unbuttoned completely.  Toad tried to squirm.

     "Nefarious activities," said Ivo.  "I pulled back my duvet having
experienced objects placed in beds before."  A reference to Frankie putting
a red plastic lobster in their bed at ours one night and maintaining it was
a Dorset flea they'd brought with them.  "What do I find but a banana and
two apples placed in a provocative position...."

     "...Not only that," continued Adam, "Under my duvet was a similar
configuration.  But this time...," As Toad tried to squirm so the shirt
flapped open exposing his bare chest.  Adam drew his finger from navel to
throat causing him to squirm even more.  "...This time a smaller banana was
accompanied by two satsumas."  He tapped Frankie's chest.
  "I wish to know why you should think I am less deserving in comparison
with my identical twin brother?"

     The hand was removed and quickly replaced as it was obvious Frankie
was preparing to call out.  "Any sound other than an answer to our
questions and you will regret the outburst," said Ivo as he began to undo
the belt Frankie was wearing.  He pulled the belt through its retaining
loops.  "In fact we may have to chastise you with this."  He dropped it on
the bed.  He then put a finger to Frankie's lips.  "I think we might finish
what was begun with the divine Boudicca's captive. One squawk from you and
your knackers will be forfeit."

     The finger was removed.  Frankie's eyes turned on me.  I had no idea
what they had planned but I knew he wouldn't be harmed.  Well, perhaps not
too much.

     "My, my!" said Ivo as the finger returned and now circled a rather
prominent nipple, "What have we here.  I spy a hair, and another,..."  The
finger moved and circled his left nipple, "...and there's another one this
side.  Gosh, bro, he beats you by at least two for what you had even above
that malformed little peg of yours when you were sixteen."

     "Speak for yourself, you hairy monster.  He's like that thing over
there."  That 'thing' was me.  "I bet that patch on his chest tickles
Tris's fancy."  Adam's finger replaced Ivo's and was stroking the stretched
skin between Frankie's pecs.  "You'll be the same in a couple of year's
time, young sir, with some young lady licking her chops as she sees your
manly torso."  His finger traced down to where Frankie's rather saggy
skateboarder's jeans were riding low on his hips.

     It was my turn.  Exposed above the top of the jeans was about an inch
and half of black waistband of....

     "Francis," I said sternly, "Are you wearing those black silk boxers
that Tris gave me for my birthday?  You seem excessively fond of my
underwear!"

     He looked slightly sheepish and nodded.  As both Ivo and Adam were
watching him I let him know I wasn't too annoyed by giving him a wink.  He
played up to it and gave the usual Toad sneer.

     "You weren't wearing them and I like something smooth against my
skin," he said, "They're better than that jockstrap you lent me."

     "Ungrateful child," I said, "You muck those up and I'll tan your arse
for you...."

     Ivo interrupted me.  "...D'you want them back?"

     He didn't wait for an answer as he hoisted Frankie's legs up and with
a couple of swift movements off came the jeans, boxers, trainers and socks.
Frankie's legs were dropped back on the bed and Adam held them down as Ivo
scooped up the boxers and chucked them to me.

     "Better inspect them for detritus," he said.

     I grinned at the use of that word.  Actually they were clean.
Meanwhile Adam was making circles with a finger round Frankie's navel
making him rotate his hips as if doing a belly dance.

     "Oh, and there's a pretty sight.  Little lad's got a treasure trail."
Treasure trails loomed large in several tales I'd read on Nifty and I
wondered if Adam had perused the same literature. "Ooh!  I wonder where
that goes."  Adam tweaked the hairs just below his navel.  "Ahh, all the
way down to his bushy, bush bush!"

     Frankie was getting a bit desperate now.  "Ouch, stop it!  Marky stop
them!"  He was trying to squirm from the twisting fingers.  "You bastards!"
I knew he didn't know whether to laugh or object.  "You couple of perves."
He put on a plaintive voice.  "I'm only sixteen and I'm being assaulted,
help me Marky!"

     "Bastards, perves?" queried Ivo.  "I doubt the first and who put
bananas for what purpose in our beds?"  He held up the jeans and withdrew
something from one of the pockets.  Frankie grimaced then grinned.  But
this was something else I recognised.  It was a black tanga brief I had
bought, one of a pair, to wear under my rather tight Matteoli trousers so
as not to show a hemline.  There was something else.  A piece of card was
attached to the front of the brief with a paperclip.  "What's this?"  He
held the card so he could read it.  "'Mr Ivo Carr,'" he read, "'Do Not
Touch.  In Hibernation' What does that mean?"  He shook the jeans and the
other brief was in a pocket the other side.  Also with a card.  He peered
at that one, then read it.  "'Mr Adam Carr May Shrivel If Exposed To
Light'"

     Adam snatched it away from him.  "What's that?  What's that for?"

     Frankie was unperturbed.  "If you hadn't have come in before I'd
finished the fruit would have been displayed inside those."  He laughed.
"Poor ancient old things.  Pity I couldn't have found a couple of overripe
bananas and four prunes."

     "Frankie, my sweet and precious boy, you will learn that you do not
remain sixteen for ever.  And if you survive the duly deserved punishment
to be meted out tonight you might even reach the grand old age of sixteen
years and one month but...."  With another single move Frankie's legs were
hoisted again to Ivo's shoulder level as he picked up the leather belt.  "I
think, Adam, it is time to play 'Pat-a-cake, Pat-a-cake, Baker's man' on
little Frankie's bum like the old days, eh?"  This harked back to the time
when a delighted, squealing four-year-old was propelled between his two
older cousins to the accompaniment of the rhyme and slaps to his backside.
I grinned internally thinking that Frankie's admiration of Ivo and Adam
stemmed to some extent from them smacking his pert little butt.

     Ivo passed the belt to Adam who folded it and pulled it sharply so it
made a very ominous snapping sound.  Frankie's legs were parted as Ivo
lifted him higher so his bare bum was raised.

     "Ooh" said Adam, "Look there's his pretty pink pucker."  He drew a
finger down from where Frankie's quite large pendulous balls drooped to
just above the exposed crevice.  Frankie bucked his hips and twitched the
inner cheeks of his buttocks.  "I wonder who's penetrated that perfect
portal?  Young Eddie?  If he's hung anything like his elder brother that
would require more than a bit of effort...."

     I could see Frankie was getting more than a little perturbed at this.
"OK you two, smack the little bugger's backside or deal with him in the
morning.  I want to go to bed!"  I thought that would be sufficient to let
him off the hook - at least for the moment.

     Adam gave him one slight slap with the belt.  He looked at me and
grinned.  "Spoilsport!" He winked.  "Want him for yourself, eh?  Not to
worry he'll have to answer for his sins tomorrow."  He gave me the belt.

     "At least he's glad to see us," said Ivo as he lowered Frankie's legs
to the bed.  Frankie's erection was lying almost to his navel.  "I think we
might take him over to the milking parlour in the morning.  He'd be just
right standing between Buttercup and Daisy Bell.  But Dad gets paid by the
litre so he'd get nothing for a couple of ccs of skimmed milk so I don't
think we'll bother."

     That reference was to a visit I'd made to the farm when I was fourteen
or so and had been demonstrated on by having my thumb stuck into one of the
suction tubes of the milking machine and feeling the rhythmic tug of the
vacuum which the cows would feel on their teats.  Adam then had made the
suggestion that perhaps I might like to insert a different part of my
anatomy and experience the effect there.  ...I'd often wondered...?

     They left our bedroom shaking their fists at a much relieved Frankie
whose erection had wilted a bit at that threat.  I shut the door, then
leaned over him to undo the ties holding him.  He immediately put his arms
round me and hugged me.  "Thanks, Marky, I wondered what the Hell they were
going to do."

     I laughed.  "They'll have something planned for tomorrow.  Get into
bed."  I rushed out to the bathroom, had a quick needed pee and just washed
my hands.  On return I stripped off and got into bed beside Frankie.  "You
were getting a little worried I thought, not so much about what they might
do, but what they might ask you.  Is that correct?"

     He snickered.  "Too right.  If I tell you...?"  I nodded.  He relaxed
and became very serious. "I didn't tell you everything last time.  Eddie
knows Oliver's gay but he's not quite sure what else goes on - you know -
more than what we did that he showed me.
  He said he'd only done that once before with a special friend he'd got.
He said a couple of the Sixth Formers when he was first at the school had
tried to get him to do things but he wasn't having any of that.  He said
he's got a couple of other pals and they've done the usual thing together
...  You know...."  I felt his hand move back and forth.  I nodded again.
"I told him what Jack and I had found out on the Internet....  ...you
know.....  ..about what boys can do and he said he'd heard kids say about
it at school but he'd never tried it.  He said he was curious.  Please
Marky, if I tell you, you won't be angry?"  I said I'd told him before,
anything he told me was between us.  He snuggled up very close.  "We both
got very worked up one night and we tried it but we both couldn't.  I think
we were too scared...  Marky, I promise I didn't say anything about you and
Tris, or you and Ivo and Adam...  ...we just tried, that's all."  He
paused.  "Would I like it if I could?"

     A very difficult question.  I put my arms round him and told him again
about love, trust, commitment, those things I felt and knew about me and
Tris especially, and the twins and us, too.  I said he should only
experiment with someone he could trust and to be careful about damage.  He
nodded against me.  I changed the subject.  I said the twins obviously
liked him and whatever they did they would make sure he wasn't harmed.  He
might be intimidated but you didn't razz the twins up without thought to
reprisals, but they would be firm but harmless.  I did point out he'd
slighted Adam rather so he'd better watch his step there.  I said his
little prank was good, but watch it in the morning.

     I was just beginning to wake up when the door opened and a nude
youngster next to me was hauled out of bed, still too asleep to protest too
violently.  I turned over and dozed for a while.  Just after half past
seven I woke and pulled on the black silk boxers and trundled to the
bathroom.  All seemed quiet.  But what I discovered there while I was
washing and shaving suggested all would be amused in some way when
downstairs.

     I dressed and was ready for my breakfast as I went down the flights of
stairs.  There, tethered at the bottom, was Frankie in the complete, or
rather, minimally complete costume of one of Boudicca's Roman stallions.
He could do nothing about freeing himself as the hooves and fetlocks on his
hands and arms were tied on securely.  His feet bore the other sets and
over his head were the reins, mane and floppy ears, finally, round his
waist the belt which held the long black tail.  He'd had been painted as
the twins had been and I noted, luckily, he was wearing the tanga brief so
his drooping genitalia were not on view.  At least the bulge was.  Around
his neck was a sign.  'Do Not Feed' But there was Auntie Sophie feeding him
with a piece of toast and marmalade.  I had wondered why it was quiet.

     "Morning, Mark," she said jovially, "You'd better take over with
Dobbin here!"  She handed me the plate.  "Must get back to the kitchen and
help Mrs Dacre with the cooked breakfast everyone else will be getting."
Poor Frankie was being teased a bit more.

     Even more.  I was being given the usual Toad look as I was slow in
poking the rest of the toast into his open mouth, when two figures in full
riding costume, boots, jodhpurs, red riding coats and black hats came down
the stairs.  Ivo and Adam.  They were also holding riding crops and as Adam
reached the bottom of the stairs he gave Frankie a smart tap on his
backside.  Frankie nearly bit my finger as he lunged forward.  "Ouch!" came
from both of us.

     "I think a three-mile canter with a few fences chucked in is in order
before breakfast, eh, what?" said Ivo in good imitation of how a P G
Wodehouse character might sound.  Frankie looked a bit startled.  Ivo
handed me the camera he was holding.  "Something for the old family album,
old fruit," he said, still in character.

     "Better wait until all are assembled," said Adam.  "No, take a couple
with just us."

     They stood either side of him murmuring that if he thought he might
kick out they had the gelder's irons upstairs.  I must say Frankie played
the part well.  I took a couple as desired then they took one of me holding
the reins and patting him on the head.  Just before eight the rest of the
family appeared - that is - Mum and Dad, as Uncle George was out on the
farm somewhere.  Mum did a double-take, burst out laughing, then began to
commiserate with her little Frankie.  'What had those nasty Thugs done?'
Dad, on the other hand after laughing, patted Frankie on the rump and ran
his hand down his quite hairy thighs.  'Good runner no doubt in its time.
Knacker's yard soon.'  More photos.  Then the highlight.  Uncle George came
in bearing a small bale of hay.  Even more photos.  I was standing next to
Frankie as Adam took a final couple of shots.  'I need to pee bad.'
Frankie sounded desperate.

     "I think it's time I returned the old nag to the stable," I said,
undoing the rope tying him to the newel-post.  I slapped his rump as I led
him rather precariously up the stairs to the bathroom.

     As he wasn't able to get his own prick out I lowered the pants and
held the object over the pan and pulled his foreskin back as bent slightly
so as not to miss.  "Point it," he instructed me.  I was trying hard not to
laugh as I knew my aim would then be even more uncertain.  "Oh, thanks," he
breathed as the final drops were shaken off.

     "Bet that's the first time someone's held it without it being stiff,"
I said giving a more than necessary last jiggle.

     "Fuck it, Marky, it's rigid most of the time," he said, "Just watch."
Within a few seconds he had, not a grand piano, but an upright organ!  "I
don't even have to think about it.  I was dead scared it would happen
downstairs."  He held up his encased hands.  "Help me off with these,
please, then I'll have a shower."

     "I'll save you something down there so you won't starve," I said as I
untied the knots on all four hooves.  "And don't be too long cleaning your
teeth," I said pointing at the shower.

     He took off the head harness and undid the belt round his waist
holding the tail.  He grinned at me.  "Thanks, Marky, it won't take
long.... ....I mean the shower!"

     Little brothers!


To be Continued: