Date: Thu, 14 Oct 2004 06:45:49 +0800 From: James MacMannis Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-03 Aboriginal Farmboy 03 Author: James MacMannis Subject: aboriginal-farmboy-03 (adult-youth, interracial, rural) Archive; 'Aboriginal Farmboy #3'{James MacMannis}(BB, interr, rural)[] Homosexual, young male sex Adult-youth Interracial Rural setting ABORIGINAL FARMBOY - PART THREE Copyright (c) 2004 by James MacMannis This document may be downloaded for your personal pleasure; however, you may not place the document on a website or reproduce the story for distribution in any media whatsoever without my permission. Please email me at james_macmannis@hotmail.com with constructive comments or criticism. "It's Constantine Kouros here Mister MacMannis," a well-modulated voice announced on the phone when I answered. "I'm Christos and Nickolas's older brother. Are they still at your house?" I remembered that I had given my address and phone details to the boys at the service station, so it was not a surprise that Connie knew my phone number. I assured him they were here and asked if he wanted to speak to either of them. "No, thank you. I really need to speak to you, but I wanted to confirm that the boys are safe. Thank you so much for the care you have taken towards our family. I am looking forward to meeting you and saying this to you face to face, but for now the phone will have to do." I responded that it was a privilege to have dealings with such a great and fine-looking family and that I was looking forward to meeting him too. "Do you mind if I call you Connie - the boys always refer to you that way?" I asked. "Not at all. I wasn't really trying to be formal when I began this conversation, but we haven't met as yet and I wanted to act correctly in showing my heartfelt respect to you." "In that case, you must call me James." I felt as though this was some kind of recording - I seemed to be going through the same scenario with each member of the family! "Well, James," Connie continued, "The purpose of my call is to let you know I can't come home tonight. You probably heard about the bad weather warnings and I am sure you have been getting the same kind of rain we have had here in town. About an hour ago the police closed all the roads due to imminent flooding. I did try to call you a while ago, but I could get no answer." "Yes, we have been out doing some tie downs and precautions against the storms. Nick got home early today for the same reasons you mentioned. He has been helping Chris and myself with the work, and that is why you did not get anyone when you called before. We have only just now come back to the house." Connie went on to tell me that he hoped it would not be an inconvenience if the boys stayed at my house till the worst of the storm had passed. He would be staying with a friend in town overnight and would try to get out tomorrow if the floodways were clear. "Don't you worry, Connie," I assured him. "I will look after the boys - more likely they will look after me - and don't you take any risks trying to get out here tomorrow. If we can we will go over to your place in the morning to see if everything is alright. Then, when it is safe to do so, you are most welcome to come out to my house whenever you can." We ended the call, promising to call again in the morning, and I passed on the news to the two boys, who by now had known the caller and guessed the content of the conversation. Chris had put a pot of coffee on and he now poured mugs for each of us as we made our way to the sunroom. Wet clothing came off in a rush and we hung trousers, shirts and coats on chairs and anything we could find so it would begin drying. Naked, we huddled next to the fireplace and we let the warmth of the room seep in to our cold bodies. Chris pressed into my left side and Nick to my right. I noticed that Nick was quick to check out my white skinned body and seemed to be particularly interested in my penis and testicles, although he did not stare at them for long. We rolled cigarettes and smoked them. The warmth of the coffee and the fire quickly dispelled the effects of the rough weather outside. The storm was getting much worse. There had been strong wind and heavy rain before, but now the wind was shrieking around the house and the rain was driving in against the windows and external doors. The sunroom has full-length French doors, and through them we could see the fury of the storm developing. Suddenly a loud clatter almost deafened us. It took me a moment to realise that it was hailstones hitting the metal roof of the house. The three of us walked over to the doors and watched as the countryside turned white under a heavy onslaught of small round hail. I did not think there would be any damage, because it was small hail, so it was rather spectacular to see the quick build up of frozen rain over the valley. The glass doors allowed a feeling of the cold to come into the room, making us very aware that the outside temperature had dropped considerably. We went back to the comfort of the fire. "I guess the first practicality of the evening is to work out what we are going to wear," I suggested. "The clothes we have put out to dry will be damp till much later in the night or even tomorrow morning. How about we go and look through what is left of my nephew's clothes and try to get something that fits." We went down the hall to the bedroom he uses and began sorting through the small amount of clothing my nephew had left there. Chris immediately realised that all of the stuff was too small for him, so we concentrated on finding something for Nick. A shirt and jumper fitted fine, but we could not find anything else but a pair of short cut-offs for the bottom end. Chris jokingly grabbed Nick in the crutch with a coment about making sure there was enough room for him to fit, and to my amusement, Nick was not at all uncomfortable with the intimacy. We went on to my bedroom where I found some clothes that were a little small on me and seemed to fit Chris on the loose side of comfortable. He said he liked the thought of wearing my clothes, and I felt rather proud to have him wear some things that I could no longer fit. I found some warm clothes for myself to use from my wardrobe and pulled them on. We then headed back to the warmer sunroom. All this time the noise of the hail and increasing wind was a constant background to our activities. The sunroom was more exposed to the elements and we were quite amazed to see through the large glass panels how furious the storm had become. There was enough light to see that everything was covered in a deep layer of hail stones, now turning into an icy crust. Wind gusts had already broken some branches from trees and rain was being driven right up under the eaves of the house. It was getting on to time for us to think about food. I asked the boys if they had any particular dietary considerations, and they told me that they did not. When I suggested grilled steaks and hot vegetables, both agreed that would be nice. I thought I would add a few of Chris's eggs to the protein tally. I sent the boys off to watch TV while I got on with preparations for dinner. "Do you boys want a drink? I can offer soft drinks, beer, wine or tea and coffee," I asked after a while. Nick responded by asking "What will you be drinking, Mister James?" "I will have a glass of red wine. I prefer that as this time of night." They both decided to join me in a red wine, so I asked them why when it seemed most young people go for a beer or cola drinks. "Dad would usually have two glasses of red wine each night with dinner, and we have done the same from before he died and after. When we were little boys we had little glasses." Chris gave the explanation. I was beginning to realise that so much of these boys was tied to the invisible presence of their father in every aspect of their lives. He must have been a wonderful father to them and must have shown his love to them in everything he did. I regretted deeply that I had not maintained my earlier friendship with Nick senior. The wine poured, we sat together while the food cooked, the weather got progressively worse, and the TV announcer made the best of another one of those ridiculous live shows offering a fortune for the persons who got the correct answers to a series of questions. We smoked and Nick was quite content to watch the show and pre-empt most of the answers correctly. A news flash at one point told us that unprecedented rains and dangerous thunderstorms were forecast for the night and that already the emergency services were being deployed to attend to numerous domestic situations arising from the heavy weather. Dinner turned out to be quite a success, even though I was expecting the electrical power to drop out at any time with the increasing severity of winds. I do use bottled propane for my cooking range, so electrical failure would not have stopped the cooking, but it would have meant no more light or TV. It is not uncommon for the power to drop out in late winter storms because the power feeders cross over higher ridges in some fairly exposed places that seem to attract either lightning strikes or line short-outs. Sure enough, just as we had finished washing the dishes, the power went out. In the silence following the death of the TV the din of the storm slinked in. It was now evident that we would be in for a wild night. I found a torch so I could go downstairs to start my backup generator. There is an internal staircase to the under level of the house and I accessed the gen-set that way. The backup system would not give us total power, just enough to provide basic low-power lighting and a radio. I returned upstairs when the generator was running. There was little we could do in the way of entertainment, and, quite frankly, with the clamour and chaos of the storm, we could barely communicate with each other. The night was noticeably colder and the temperature seemed to be dropping faster than we could keep wood piled onto the fire. I rummaged in a cupboard to find some warm coats for us to pull on against the cold. We sat close together so that we could hear each other speaking over the racket. Nick was obviously tiring after a long day with not much rest. I suggested that maybe we would all like to get some sleep. The boys quickly agreed. I was not sure if Chris was so tired or just wanted the opportunity for us to get to bed together again. Which bought the next problem to my mind. I had no idea if Nick would be okay with Chris and I sleeping together, or even if Chris would openly sleep with me in front of his brother. I was not sure just how to broach the subject, which could have been rather delicate. "James and I will be sleeping together, Nick, so do you want to sleep by yourself or will you camp in with us?" Chris took the matter into his own hands by asking the direct question. Nick looked at his brother questioningly, not in shock or surprise, but as if he was unsure how to respond. "Do you mean that you have already . . . uh . . . you know . . . slept together?" Nick stuttered. "Yes, of course we have. I told you that I love James very deeply, so it is natural we have shared ourselves. You are not upset about it are you Nick?" "No," Nick replied slowly, "I think it is great that you are comfortable with each other. But you wont want me to sleep with you, will you. Maybe it will be best if I sleep somewhere else." Nick appeared to reach the conclusion with disappointment. I was left totally bemused by the exchange and wondered just how much each of the brothers had been told of the new relationship that had developed between Chris and myself. I also wondered how familiar they were with each other and how this figured in their lives. Nick looked at me, his steely eyes clear and steady as his stare penetrated my heart, even in the dim light of the stove and the backup power as he rolled a cigarette and lit it. I have never felt so closely inspected and searched as I did in those few moments. It was as though Nick was making some monumental decision based upon whatever he saw in me. "Mister James, I can understand why Chris would love you. You have something special about you. I know you care about us, perhaps more than anyone else has ever done, and you don't seem to notice that we are black kids. It is a bit hard to take all this in when you live a life on the edge of a society that makes a pretence of accepting everyone, yet the reality is that some are accepted and others are not, based on their skin colour mainly. You, Mister James, seem not to be like that and I feel a very deep gratitude and appreciation of you. Perhaps more than anything else I feel that you are a trusting and trustable person, and I value you that highly. If Chris says that he feels love for you, I really do understand it, because I think that I feel the same." I felt somewhat overwhelmed from having such a strong pronouncement made about me from a person sitting no more than a metre from me and penetrating me with the most fixed gaze. Nick is also such an attractive person, about how I could have imagined Chris to look at his age. Chris was siting silently throughout this intense dialogue, in my peripheral vision I could make out his downcast head. It was as though he was being assessed by his younger sibling in every way as much as I had been. His only movement was to occasionally draw on his cigarette. It seemed appropriate that I should say something in answer to Nick's assertion, but I was afraid to say anything hastily, knowing that he would weigh every word I uttered. The rain lashed at the windows as an increased level of activity brought the storm back into our condensed world. I reached over and took Nick's right hand in mine - he was still holding a cigarette in the other. "Nick, I don't know if I really live up to the great expectation you have put on me and I am sure that I am not worthy of the review you have made of me, but I do know that what you see is what you get. I am me, and I have known from that moment we first met at the petrol station that there was something about you boys that would weld us together somehow. I did not know then that I would come to feel love for Chris, but it has happened. Nick, I love you too, but in a different way. That doesn't mean I love you less, because it would be impossible for that to be the case, but the expression of my love to you will be different to my expression of love to Chris. I think, even though I have never met him, that I will love Connie, too. Chris may have told you that I once knew your father when we were both very much younger, so in one way or another you and your brothers and I have been tied together from before you were born. Nick, I want you to sleep with Chris and I tonight. We will not do anything that will offend you and I will not expect anything of you except your company in my bed. It that okay with you?" Nick sucked the last little bit from his smoke before butting it out. He reached out and took my other hand, clasping me firmly as he said, "I will be honoured to sleep with you. Thank you, Mister James." He leant the short distance between us and kissed me lovingly on the mouth. Chris leant into this warm embrace and hugged the two of us tightly as he added his approval to the settlement that had been reached between us. I led the boys down to my bedroom and asked if they wanted to shower before bed. Nick immediately accepted the idea and, taking a towel from the cupboard, began adjusting the water for his shower. When the temperature was to his liking, he shucked off his coat, shirt and trousers and climbed into the shower. Chris took hold of me and embraced me strongly. "Thank you for loving my brother, James. He is a wonderful kid and he means the world to me. I am so amazed that you will share the love we have with him." Chris's voice seemed to catch in his throat as he stopped talking. As he kissed me deeply I could see little tears in his eyes until those in my own eyes obscured them. We clung on to each other in the dark room, enjoying each second of the other being there, listening to the raging storm and acutely aware that a young boy was showering a few metres from where we stood. When Nick finished his shower, Chris got in to scrub up. "Do you want to wear some pyjamas, Nick? I have some that will be a loose fit on you, but you are welcome to them if you like." "I have not ever worn pyjamas, Mister James, but, if you want me to, I will wear them. Do you wear pyjamas?" He asked. I told him that I did not and I didn't really want him to wear them either. I handed Nick his coat and pointed him in the direction of the kitchen so he could make some hot chocolate for us before we went to bed. He wore nothing else but the coat, draped over his shoulders and not fastened up, but it was sufficient to keep the cold away. His muscular legs and firmly rounded buttocks were an enticing sight as he walked into the kitchen and began making preparations. Chris emerged from the shower, so I decided to make my ablutions. Once I had finished I found the boys sitting in the sun deck, Nick still with the coat on his shoulders and Chris completely naked despite the chill. They were close to the fireplace. I had grabbed a bathrobe and pulled it around me because of the cold. Nick had arranged the mugs of steaming chocolate on a coffee table and, when I came in, stood to pass the mugs around for each of us. The firelight flickered colourful shadows across the bodies of these two boys, their dark skin glowing in the crimson light. I could hardly believe that I had these two young men in my own house - one whom I loved as my own flesh, the other as a son. Yet their sensual bodies also stirred up other feelings in my body. Without realising it, my penis began to swell as I feasted on the remarkable sight before me. I was not at all sure how to act in front of Nick. It seemed he was fairly relaxed about my relationship with Chris and he certainly had no inhibitions about being naked in my presence, but there had not been any indication of his own sexual drive or his reaction to male sexuality. I was feeling a little embarrassed, and Chris must have caught the drift of it because he gracefully untwined his long legs to reveal that he was sporting a fully erect penis. Nick, quick to sense the developing current of the room, was not in the least discomforted by this display of manliness. In fact, it became obvious he was enjoying the familiarity as much as Chris and I, his own delightfully proportioned penis beginning to enlarge in a silent consent to the maleness of the moment. He sat again by the fire. A sudden flurry of the storm broke the hypnotic spell that was enveloping us. The three of us picked up our mugs and began to sip the thick dark drink. When I made a cigarette, the boys also made one each and we lit them. Chris, who seemed to have a remarkable stamina, maintained his erection and made no attempt to conceal it. Nick came across to me, his coat loosely fixed to his shoulders, leaving his groin fully open to my view, and sat right alongside. His penis was not hard like that of his brother, but was aroused. "Mister James, we three brothers have only ever had ourselves since Dad died. We have looked after each other when we were sick, washed each other when we were dirty, fed each other when we were hungry. All our lives we have slept together, and none of us ever wore clothing in the house except when it was very, very cold. So you can understand that we have seen each other naked and horny and helped each other to enjoy some satisfaction. Connie learnt from Dad about how to enjoy some sexual release. He taught Chris and Chris taught me. When Connie comes home from university, we three always sleep together. That means we often wank each other or do some other things that make us feel comfortable. So please do not think that I will be offended with anything you want to do tonight with Chris, or with me." I was constantly amazed at the eloquent manner in which Nick spoke, the enticing fluidity of his voice and the manner in which he constructed his sentences. At this moment I was even more amazed when he took my hand and placed it on his now firm penis and kissed me. To begin with, his penis was not overly long or thick, but certainly a pleasure to hold. The flesh, firm but responsive to my touch, developing a vitality of it's own. It was only a matter of moments before Nick was aroused to full rigidity and I had in my hand a mans equipment, proudly jutting out from Nick's groin at least 15 cm and probably 10 or 12 cm in circumference. Even in the dim light I could see the elegant proportion of his penis, the shaft straight and veiny but without any blemishes continued seamlessly into the foreskin, which gathered over the head into a smooth opening. I held this amazing organ as it grew into full size, pumping it by squeezing my hand gently rather than stroking its length. Nick had put his arm around my back and was embracing me tightly. It was time for us to go to bed. I was being stimulated more than I could have imagined possible with the sight of these two boys before me, one displaying the magnificence of his rampant tool, the other submitting himself to my gently gripping hand. I suggested the boys put away the mugs and tidy the room for the night while I wend downstairs to turn off the generator. Wood had been added to the fire and everything else had been done by time I returned to the kitchen. Nick had shed his coat to hang it near the fire for warmth in the morning. This time I became the disciple as Chris and Nick, erect penises leading the way, took me by the hands and piloted me to the bedroom. The room was dark, now that the power supply was off and the limited lighting extinguished. The storm had obscured the moon, if there was one. Rain and wind rattled on the windows and the room was chilly. Hands reached out and took my dressing gown. It was Chris; I could feel the height of him. He led me to the bed and I climbed under the thick feather doona. I could barely see the movement and hear the faintest rustle of their feet as Chris led Nick to the right side of the bed. Nick climbed in next to me as Chris made his way to the left hand side and also found his way next to me. We were all cold and shivering from the short excursion from the sunroom, so we huddled together for warmth. Chris's hard rod was firmly prodding my left side and I could detect a gentler impaling where Nick was facing my right side. Both boys had their arms across my chest and my own arms encircled a pair of beautiful, almost invisible, necks and shoulders. The three of us in such proximity soon generated enough warmth to stave off the cold. My bed, I should mention, is quite large. I bought it in a closing sale at a hotel, where it had been custom made to an extraordinary large size about 2.5 metres square. It had never been installed at the hotel, the liquidation occurring before the place could actually begin business, so it was absolutely new when I relocated it to my house. It had taken some searching to find bed linen and a doona to fit it, but it was worth the effort. It was a most comfortable bed. Tonight was the first time it had accommodated more than one person, and I was all the more thankful for the extra size because it meant none of us were crammed together for any other reason than our own choice. Chris moved his hand so that he could hold Nick's. At first I thought this was a brotherly sharing of affection, but I was surprised when Chris guided Nick's hand down my body until he was confronted with my erect penis. Chris left Nick's hand and returned his own hand to embracing my chest. Nuzzling his head a little further into my shoulder, Nick whispered "Is it okay with you, Mister James?" I nodded, knowing that he would feel the movement of my head. His hand took hold of my rigid pole, exploring it for the first time, working his way slowly and gently to the tip of my glans. Gently and slowly he eased back a little of the foreskin, and I could feel him trace the slit where my pre-cum oozed. I tingled when he massaged this fluid into the sensitive parts on the underside. He moved on over my foreskin and along the full extent of the shaft until he encountered my pubic hairs. Continuing on he delved into my sac area and felt each of the tightening balls. All this time, Chris was holding me in a tight hug, gently kissing me on the other side of my neck and slowly working his own penis in a rhythmical grind against the side of my hips facing him. Nick had grown from firmness to a rigid erection that now ground into my other side. From both boys I could feel the slipperiness of their pre-cum on my skin as their penises milled into me. Without warning I was immediately very concerned at the implications of having an underage boy in my bed. I could not way why this had not entered my reasoning before now, and the battle for what was deemed right by society and what my own body was currently enjoying raged in my head. It was very obvious that Nick was no newcomer to exploration of the male body; he had told me that he had done so with his brothers. It was equally obvious from his erection, now making itself very obvious in its animated state, that he was enjoying the experience of being with me. Furthermore, his older brother, my new lover, was an accomplice in this situation, giving his consent by means of the introduction and passive acceptance of it. But in my mind thundered the dilemma of what I should morally do about having a 14, almost 15 year old, boy in my bed performing any kind of sexual act. Another complication that I could not resolve was how to handle Nick if I should refuse him - would it be more difficult for him? He was not, after all is said and done, a physical child. He was very well developed, particularly for his age, and he had made his own choice about coming to my bed. Whichever way I looked at the problem, I could not get hold of a ready solution. My rampant dick and my lusty head knew what they wanted, but my heart quivered with indecision. A dazzling lightning strike followed instantly by a tremendous crash of thunder brought us all out of the steamy situation we had been enjoying. Leaping flames suddenly lit the windowpanes. My mind wrestling was temporarily reprieved. The three of us scrambled from the bed to see what had happened. Outside the house was an eerie scene, my workshops lit by the brilliance of a tree on fire. From this distance it looked like the lightning strike had hit one of the beautiful 150-year-old eucalypts that stood in a loose cluster a short distance from the workshop shed. The wind was whipping the flame into a furious fire, despite the wood being green and despite the drenching rains. I ran to the sunroom where I quickly put on my drying work clothes. The boys were right behind me and did likewise. I grabbed a large torch and together we ran out into the storm. As we got closer to the fire I was amazed to see the extent of the damage. The tree, perhaps 15 or 20 metres tall and 6 or 8 metres around the trunk, looked for all the world like it had been dynamited! The whole tree was on the ground in various pieces and a smoking hole gaped where it had once stood. The major parts of the trunk were splintered and seriously on fire, the flames whipping into the branches and canopy of the tree, igniting them as they reached their burning temperatures. My concern was that the flames would soon reach the workshop. "Do what you can to move some of those branches," I yelled at the boys, indicating some smaller branches right near the workshop wall. "I am going to get the tractor out to push the tree away from here." The boys knew the danger of fire, having grown up in these wooded hills, and immediately set to the task, the tough skin of their bare feet impervious to the embers and burning twigs scattered on the ground. I ran into the shed and hoped the tractor battery would not let me down as I began winding the starter. On the fourth try the diesel motor roared into life and I hit the lights to illuminate the area where I wanted to work. The prevailing weather generally comes from the west or northwest, so, like most sheds in the south of Western Australia, mine did not have doors on the eastern side. I always park my machinery facing out, so I was able to drive the tractor straight out of the shed. The brunt of the storm hit me as I cleared the protection of the building, as did the heat of the fire when I came suddenly on it. The boys saw me coming and moved back out of the way as I lowered the hydraulics to put the loader bucket into position and began pushing the heavy timber away from the building. It was obvious I could not move the tree in one piece. My tractor wheels spun in the wet dirt when the load was taken up, even though I had engaged the 4WD system. The timber was massive and would have needed a bulldozer to shift it as one. Chris could see the problem and he ran out into the lights of the tractor to point out to me where the tree had fractured when it landed. The first place he indicated was away from the worst of the fire, but as he moved to point out the second fracture, a freak gust of wind blew the flames over him. He reeled away from the fire, seemingly disoriented. Nick, who was very close by, took his brother back to the side of the shed. I was about to climb out of the tractor to give him assistance when both the boys waved to indicate Chris was alright for the moment and I should continue with the fire fighting. I attacked the tree at the hottest part first, aiming at the second fracture Chris had indicated, and slowly pushed the flaming trunk and branches away from the rest of the tangled mess. There was a cleared paddock about 50 metres away from the workshop, so I pushed the burning tree straight down the driveway into that open land where it could do little damage. Returning to the workshop I aimed at the other point and separated that part of the tree. It was now burning strongly, so I pushed it down to the other part in the clear land and let them burn together. The final section was smouldering and did not seem to be actually burning, but I pushed that out to join the others as well. Looking around the workshop area I could not see anything else on fire, so I took the tractor back to the shed to see how Chris was. Nick had taken Chris inside the workshop out of the worst of the storm. He was sitting with his hands over his head and I feared that some terrible thing had happened. Racing up to him I gasped "Chris, are you okay?" With a laugh, he pulled his hands away and looked up at me. "The bloody fire burnt my hair off! Look at me!" Chris was almost bald. There did not appear to be any other damage. I don't know if it was relief or the sheer comedy of seeing him like that, but I burst into laughter as well. "Nick and I can clean up anything else here." I told Chris. "How about you go over to the house and put on the generator so we have some light. Do you know how to turn it on?" Chris assured me he knew how to operate it, and he left with instructions to shower and then put on some coffee. Lightning and thunder became a part of the air we breathed as the storm dealt out its severity. Nick and I went back into the storm and cleared away some of the worst debris. There was not a lot that needed moving while the storm was still reaching its peak and we agreed we would do a better clean up in the morning. The main parts of the tree were wildly burning down in the paddock, so Nick hoisted himself up into the tractor cab with me and we drove back into the workshop. There was not a lot of room in the cab, it was really only built for one person, so Nick was very close to me, the soles of his tough dirty feet brushing on my insteps. Once I had shut the machine down I sat quietly with Nick. "Nick, I loved what we were doing before, but I am scared to continue it. You are still legally a child. I would not want you to ever have to blame me for doing something that you might regret later in life. It is a very new experience for me, as I have not ever been with someone so young as you. My nephew is your age, but he and I have never had any kind of sexual experience. So, Nick, I just have to say that I don't know what to do." I babbled like a nervous teenager. The teenager in Nick never seemed to appear, and in this case he showed once again the maturity that seemed to ride on his shoulders so naturally. "Mister James, I have never been with anybody other than my brothers before tonight. Sure, I have mucked around with other boys at school, but that is not the same thing. I have felt something with you that seems so natural and so right for us to do, and I don't even know really what it is that we are going to do. I have never felt like I felt tonight when I was touching you. I want to do some more. Please, Mister James, you must understand that I love you. Whatever we do is going to be special between us. I do not want you to be confused about me or Chris or Connie. We love you very much because you seem to love us. Can you please accept that?" I looked to where Nick sat beside me. Neither of us could see each other in the darkness, the flames of the fire were not sending their light into the shed. I was glad Nick could not see the little tears running down my face because I would have felt embarrassed if he had. All of a sudden he was in my arms, holding me and crying. He craned his head up to me and kissed my cheeks, feeling the wetness that I had been trying to hide. "Mister James," he sobbed, "I didn't know my father much before he died. I never knew my mother. But I do know you and I want to love you in place of them. Maybe I love you differently than that, I don't know, but what I feel comes from deep in my heart. Please love me too." "Nick, my love," I softly replied. "I do love you and Chris - so much that I can't hold it inside me. I hope that I will feel the same about Connie when I meet him. You are very beautiful and precious boys to me. And I will love you as much if we do things together or if we don't. Please do not ever mix up the fact that love is much deeper than emotion or an expression of it, like sex. Can I ask you, Nick, to be totally honest with me in everything that we do? Can I also ask you to accept my promise that I will be totally honest with you in everything that we do? These things are so important for us if we are to be like a family and if we are to let our love grow." Nick quietened as he absorbed the things I had said. I felt his breathing return to normal and his sobbing cease. He reached up a hand and wiped away the tears from my face, then did the same for his own. His small mouth reached mine and he planted there a tender kiss. "Your promise to me is a treasure I will always hold. If it is possible for me to keep the promise you want from me I would gladly give it to you, but I don't know if I am that strong. I don't mean I will not be honest to you, Mister James, but I just don't always know how big that promise is. I will make it to the best of my ability. And I will live it with my whole being. I hope that will be good enough for you." "Yes, Nick, it will, because your answer has shown more honesty than I could ever expect. Thank you." We kissed again, then climbed out of the tractor to make our way back to the house.