Timmy and the Travellers – Chapter 13

Several chapters back I described “Timmy” as a love story. I'd be the first to admit that the love element has been buried recently by other stuff, so – especially for the romantics among you – in this chapter nobody does anything painful to anyone, with or without their consent. Instead we're going to see how things are going for two couples who love each other – even if the first couple might not be ready to use the word yet...


As Truscott had been given the evening off and Christy was going to visit Timmy that evening, Michael said that it would not be worth meeting at the garage that afternoon. Tom decided that in that case he might as well grab Wood for the evening, so when he came out of school, expecting to have to go to the garage, he found Tom waiting for him at the end of the footpath.

"You haven't got to come tonight," Tom told him, "so I'm coming home with you instead."

Wood didn't mind that: it was Friday, so his family would have gone shopping, and there would be nobody at home. So he took Tom back to his house and up to his room.

"So, are you coming to stay with me during the holidays or not?" asked Tom, watching as Wood took off his school uniform.

"I will if you still want me to," replied Wood, hanging his trousers up in the wardrobe.

"Of course I do - I want to see if you can hack it, not having piles of clothes and books and stuff."

"Obviously I can." Wood reached for a pair of jeans, but Tom stopped him.

"Oi! You can't put anything else on - you haven't finished taking your school stuff off yet," he told him.

Wood shrugged and removed his shirt, putting it by the door so that he could put in the laundry basket later. Again he reached for his jeans.

"Not yet," said Tom. "You're still wearing your school socks and pants."

"These aren't school pants," argued Wood. "I don't have a separate pair for school - I wear these all the time."

"Tough - they look like school ones to me. Take them off - and the socks, too."

Grinning, Wood removed the rest of his clothes.

"Now what?" he asked.

"And that school watch," demanded Tom. Wood took it off.

"That's better. Now you're how I like you. You can stay like that until I go home."

"I'm going to get cold," protested Wood, even though it wasn't at all cold in the house.

"Get into bed, then, and I'll get in with you to warm you up."

Wood jumped into bed without argument and Tom threw his clothes off and got in with him.

"Better?" he asked.

"A bit. Come a bit closer and you'll help me to warm up."

Tom wriggled up against him and put an arm round him.

"So... how did you manage to persuade your parents to let you come and stay with me?" he asked.

"I said I thought it would be useful to find out how other people live. They were a bit unsure at first - they wanted to know how we met, for a start..."

"What did you tell them?"

"I said that Collier introduced us - he told me how he got his mother to accept him being friends with Christy, so I used that. I told my mum that one of you had helped a friend of mine, and that we'd both got to know some of you as a result. She'll want to meet you before I come to stay with you, but that shouldn't be a problem if you behave. If you don't, I'll have to beat you up."

"Let's not forget who's the slave here," Tom warned him. "If there's going to be any beating up done, it'll be me doing it. So, how long are you coming for?"

"How long would you like me to come for?"

"Are you serious?"

"Pretty much. I pointed out that if I'm not at home for a few days they won't have to buy food for me, and anything that saves money is welcome. So, do you think you could put up with me for a whole week?"

"Of course - I could put up with you permanently if I had to. As long as you remember I'm in charge, of course. But I bet you can't handle being a traveller that long."

"Why not?"

"'Cos you're soft - you've got all this stuff, and a big soft bed, and lots of clothes... you won't have any of that if you're living with me."

"That doesn't worry me. It's having you there all the time I'm not sure about."

Tom jabbed him in the ribs.

"Seriously, though, you might not like it," he said. "We'll be sharing a very small bed, and I want you to find your oldest clothes and wear the same stuff all the time, so you at least partly look like you belong. And you'll probably have to work some of the time, too."


"Yes. We all help with work some of the time, and you're old enough to do quite a lot. You might even enjoy it - it can be sort of fun."

"Okay. I don't mind, if that's what you usually do."

"Good. Now, maybe we ought to get used to sharing a smaller bed. There might not be room for us side by side in my bed, so maybe I'll have to try sleeping on top of you. Let's practise."

Tom pushed Wood onto his back and wriggled on top of him, nuzzling up against him. Wood put his arms round him and hugged gently.

"See? I knew you fancied me," said Tom.

By this time Wood had learned not to respond.

"I'm not sure I would really be able to get to sleep like this," he said.

"Nor me - you're a bit bony. But we might have to try. Let's see how long we can stay like this, anyway."

This time it was Tom who got the first erection, though Wood started to stiffen up as soon as he felt Tom's growing against him. Tom simply rearranged himself so that his was sticking up between them, and Wood tucked his between Tom's legs. Tom squeezed his thighs together, making Wood utter a little groan of pleasure.

They lay quietly for another five minutes or so, then Tom said, "Stephen... please would you suck me off?"

"What do you mean, 'please'?" said Wood. "That's not how you talk to slaves."

"It's how you talk to friends, though. I'm not ordering you to do it - I'm just asking you to. You don't have to if you don't want."

Last time this had happened Wood had refused, on the grounds that he didn't want to do dirty stuff like this unless he had to - if it was an order he would be forced to obey because of his oath of obedience. If it wasn't an order, he didn't have to do it. But... somehow it felt different this time. He was aware of how much he liked Tom, and he knew that Tom wanted him to do it - and this time there would be no audience, which meant that nobody else would be able to say anything about it.

"Okay," he said. "Swap places."

"Are you serious? I did say you didn't have to if you don't want."

"I want to, okay? Now lie on your back."

Tom rolled off to the side and lay on his back, and Wood threw off the covers and moved down to lie on his tummy between Tom's legs, looking at his stiff penis.

"Stephen... you really don't have to, you know," said Tom.

"I know."

"Only... I don't want you to hate me afterwards, or anything."

"I won't. Now shut up and let me get on with it, okay?"

Wood slipped it into his mouth and started to suck as he had been taught. Tom started to move beneath him as he settled into his rhythm. Wood squeezed hard with his lips, forcing Tom's foreskin right back and licking firmly at the sensitive head beneath, making Tom cry out - but at the same time he thrust upward, making sure that Wood didn't stop by holding his head in position.

Wood took his time, ignoring Tom's pleas for him to go faster and drawing the process out by stopping altogether now and again. Tom begged and threatened, but Wood ignored him, continuing to work at his own pace until he became aware that Tom was getting close. Then he speeded up slightly and squeezed a little harder, keeping going while Tom thrust hard against him until he finally lost control and climaxed with a cry. Wood slowed to a stop, keeping Tom's erection in his mouth and licking at it slowly until Tom told him he could stop.

Wood wriggled back up to lie beside his friend and pulled the covers back over them.

"Okay?" he asked.

"That was magic," said Tom, rolling back half on top of him and hugging him fiercely. "Far better than last time."

"Good. So presumably you won't need to spank me after all."

"No. I might have to do something else, though..."


"I'll show you."

He reached down and took hold of Wood's penis, which had stayed hard all through the procedure. First he stroked it gently, and then he took hold of it a little more firmly and started to rub it up and down.

"What are you doing?" asked Wood.

"What does it feel like?"

"It's nice - but why are you doing it?"

"Because it's nice - I reckon you deserve a reward. Lie back and enjoy it."

Wood had never experienced feelings like this before: his thing felt warm and exciting, and he loved the touch of Tom's fingers as they played with it. He slipped an arm around Tom and pulled him close, hugging him, and Tom smiled at him and rubbed a little faster. Soon Wood was aware of a feeling building up inside him.

"Is this what it feels like when I suck on yours?" he asked.

"I expect so. You'll have to warn me when you're going to come, though."

Wood didn't know what he meant, but he wasn't going to admit it, and as the feeling continued to grow inside him thought he realised what Tom had been talking about. He squeezed Tom hard as he felt his muscles all starting to tense up.

"Nearly there?" asked Tom.

Wood nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and Tom squeezed a little harder and speeded up a little more, and suddenly Wood couldn't hold it back any longer.

"It's happening, Tom!" he cried, and the warm feeling swelled up and overwhelmed him.

Tom slowed down gradually and then stopped, still holding it firmly.

"Okay?" he asked.

Wood nodded, and Tom let go, peering closely at Wood's penis.

"Hey, you can't even come yet!" he commented. "That's pretty bad for a thirteen-year-old."

"What do you mean? It felt brilliant to me."

"Did it?"

Wood nodded. "Thanks, Tom, that was really nice. But... what happened - and what do you mean about not coming?"

"I keep forgetting that you don't really know anything about sex," said Tom. "Well, that's basically what sex feels like. What I just did to you is called wanking, and it's a way to get the good sex feeling without fucking someone or getting them to suck you. Being sucked feels even better, and they say that fucking feels even better than that, but I reckon wanking isn't bad. Obviously you're not supposed to do it with boys - normally you might get your girl to do it for you if she doesn't want to suck or fuck - but I suppose you can do it with a good friend, provided nobody finds out about it - 'cos if they did they'd call you a homo.

"Normally, of course, I'd expect you to wank me - slaves aren't normally allowed sex feelings. But... I dunno, somehow with you it doesn't feel like it did to start with: like I said before, sometimes I think we're really friends more than master and slave. So I thought it would be okay to wank you, as long as you don't tell anyone - after all, you sucked me even though you didn't have to, so..."

He shrugged. "Maybe I'll do that again sometimes, if you'd like me to."

"I would - it felt really nice... except now I feel a bit strange. I think I need a pee. I'll be back in a moment."

Wood got out of bed and went to the bathroom, returning a couple of minutes later. He got back into bed and Tom wriggled back on top of him, only to recoil.

"Eurgghh!" he exclaimed. "Your cock's all wet!"

"Sorry," said Wood. "I did shake it off, honest."

"Oh, well, I don't suppose it'll kill me," said Tom, wriggling back on top and nuzzling up close once more. "Now, where were we... oh, yes, I was teaching you about sex, as usual. Well, remember when we told you how babies are made - we said that the man puts his cock inside the woman and his spunk comes out and goes to start the baby? Well, the thing is, you haven't got any spunk, Stephen, otherwise it would have come out when you got excited just now. And it's pretty unusual for a boy to get to thirteen without being able to come - that's having spunk come out. Michael and Christy can both come, and they're only twelve. I suppose you'll catch up soon, but you have to admit your cock and balls are really small for a thirteen-year-old."

"Are they? I haven't really noticed what too many others look like. I know I'm smaller than Truscott and bigger than Collier, but I've never really bothered looking at anyone else."

"You've looked at mine enough times."

Yes, but... well, that's different."

"No, it isn't. I'm only ten, but my balls are bigger than yours, and my cock's fatter and about the same length, so I bet I can come before you."

"Does it matter? I mean, I don't want to be a father yet. Do you?"

"No, of course not. But I'd like to be able to come anyway - it sort of shows how grown up you are."

"I'm not bothered about being grown up. I like the way I am."

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to tease you really badly when I can come and you can't?"

"Not really. Anyway, I don't mind you teasing me, to be honest."

"You're strange, Stephen. Most boys can't wait to grow up - I really want to have a big one, with loads of hair, and gallons of spunk I can choke you with every time you suck me off."

"If I start choking I might bite down by mistake, and then you wouldn't have one at all."

"Okay, I'll be careful and let you know when I'm coming, then. But if I do reach puberty before you I really am going to tease you to death."

"Do you think you'll still be here then?"

"It isn't going to take that long!"

"No, I mean... won't you have moved on to another site?"

"Oh. Well... yes, maybe. But perhaps you'll like being a traveller so much you'll decide to become my brother and stay with us for always."

"I don't think so. Maybe you'll decide to become my brother and become a townie."

Tom stared at him. "Would you like me to?" he asked.

"Maybe. I'd sort of like a brother, and... well, I wouldn't mind if you were around. I reckon if I was going to have a brother I'd like him to be like you. Better looking, of course, but still..."

"Now you're going to get spanked. Nobody's better looking than me."

"It isn't going to happen, though. We've barely got enough money for the four of us - I'm sure we couldn't afford another brother."

"I don't cost much. Enough food to live on and enough clothes to stay not too cold in the winter, and that's about it."

"Yes, but if you were a townie, you'd have to look like one, so we'd have to buy you loads of clothes and stuff."

"I wonder what it would be like to have so many clothes you never even wear some of them..."

Wood looked a bit embarrassed. "Let's face it, I'm not going to be a traveller and you're not going to be a townie, so when you move on that'll be the end of it."

"I suppose you're right. But I don't want to think about that at the moment. And even if we do move on, I'll come back as soon as I start getting hairs, and again as soon as I can come, just to show you up."

"I'll probably be married with ten children before that happens."

Tom tried to hit him, but Wood pinned him down and tickled him until he submitted. As soon as he was released Tom retaliated, and they wrestled for a bit until the bedding came undone and they fell on the floor.

They got up, remade the bed and got back into it.

"Did you really mean that?" asked Tom.


"You know, about how you wouldn't mind being my brother. I mean... do you really like me, or is it just because whenever I want to come round you have to say yes."

"You know I like you."

"Yes, but... I don't really understand why. I'm three years younger than you - you've probably got loads of friends of your own age, so why would you want to hang around with a little kid - especially a little gippo?"

"Maybe that's part of it, You're different from my other friends - sort of wilder. And you act a lot older than ten - I mean, you've been loads of places, and you've done loads of stuff, while all I've ever done is lived in this house and gone to the same school. You know loads more about life than I do - look at how you had to teach me about sex. Sometimes you seem older than me, not younger."

"And I've got bigger balls, and a much nicer cock."

"That too, though I still don't see why it matters so much."

"And I'm amazingly good looking, too..."

"Not sure about 'amazingly' - but yes, I do think you're good looking. And no, I don't fancy you."

"Yes, you do, we both know it. Anyway, you're nice-looking, too, and you've got a really nice body - all those muscles. Pity about the pathetic little cock."

"You're lucky I don't want to have to remake the bed again, or you'd be on the floor for that."

"It's true, though. So... we're really friends, then, and it's not just because you have to do what I tell you?"

"We're friends. Even if I wasn't a slave I'd like to spend time with you, and after I stop being a slave I'll still want you to come and visit - though I suppose it'll depend on whether you've moved on by September, and on what school I go to. I might be off at boarding school somewhere, and then I'd only see you in the holidays. On the other hand, maybe I'll be at Poundford School, and then I won't have to board and I'll be here every evening. I bet my parents would prefer that, because it would be cheaper than being a boarder..."

"Okay, but I'd like to see if you really mean that. Let's say that you don't have to be a slave at all during the Easter holidays - I won't order you about, anyway, and I'll see if I can get the others to agree to it, too. After all, if you're going to be a traveller for part of the holidays you'll be one of us, and travellers are never slaves. Then it'll be up to you whether we play together or not - nobody's going to make you if you don't want to."

"If I'm not a slave I'll be able to spank you if you're cheeky - that's what stroppy little brothers deserve," Wood pointed out.

"I thought you said I seemed older to you? Maybe you're the little brother and I should spank you?"

'"Yes, but your problem is, I'm stronger than you, so you'll be the one who gets spanked whatever happens."

"You'd have to catch me first."

"That won't be a problem if we're in the same bed, will it?"

"Then I'll have to remember to only be cheeky when we're outdoors."

They lay quietly together for another ten minutes or so, then Tom got up and got dressed, saying that he ought to go before Wood's parents came home. Once he had gone Wood lay on his back looking at the bedroom ceiling. He was really looking forward to staying with Tom during the holidays.

That same evening Christy met Timmy at the bus stop and travelled home with him. He wasn't carrying an overnight bag, because he didn't need one: the only thing he had to take with him for an overnight stay was his toothbrush, and that fitted easily into his pocket. The weather had finally turned a bit colder, so Christy had also put on his windcheater, though the large hole in the left elbow and the broken zip that would only do up halfway suggested that the wind wasn't being cheated any more.

They went straight up to Timmy's bedroom.

"We've got a couple of hours before Mum gets home," said Timmy, hanging up his blazer. "What shall we do first?"

"Can we have a bath first? It's just that... well, I didn't go to the pool this afternoon, because I was afraid I wouldn't get back in time to meet you if I had. And I don't want to stink out your bedroom..."

"Christy, I've told you before, you don't smell," Timmy assured him. "But I wouldn't mind a bath, either."

"Great! I'll race you," said Christy, throwing off his jacket. "Last one ready has to wait for the second sitting."

Timmy was at a great disadvantage here, because he was wearing socks and pants, while Christy wasn't: by the time he finally finished undressing Christy was already in the bathroom turning the taps on.

"I'm not really going to make you wait," he said. "We'll share, like we did before - except this time I'm having the tap end."


"I won the race, remember? So I get to choose."

Christy got into the bath and sat down with his back to the taps, and Timmy got in at the other end.

"But we're swapping over after ten minutes, okay?" he said, reaching for the soap.

They washed each other, shampooed each other's hair and rinsed each other off, and then Timmy got out, insisting that Christy lie back and soak for a while. Timmy dried himself and sat on the toilet to watch his friend enjoying the warm water. Eventually Christy roused himself, and once he had dried himself he followed Timmy through to the bedroom.

"So, what shall we do now?" asked Timmy, expectantly.

"I think we should try the bed. After all, I've actually got to sleep in it tonight, so I'd better make sure it's comfortable, hadn't I?"

"Good idea," agreed Timmy, throwing back the covers and jumping in. Christy got in after him, pulled the covers back up and lay on his back, and Timmy wriggled on top of him.

"I've just realised something," he said. "You didn't bring any pyjamas."

"That's because I haven't got any."

"So what are you going to wear in bed?"

"Well, nothing," said Christy, surprised. "I sort of thought that was the idea, so we could have a really good cuddle before we go to sleep."

"That might be a bit... well, difficult," said Timmy. "Mum always comes to say goodnight, and if we're both bare... well, she's bound to think... well, you know."

"Oh," said Christy, disappointed.

"What do you normally wear in bed?" Timmy asked him.

"My tee shirt and a pair of shorts. I've got the tee shirt - it's lucky it got a bit colder today, 'cos I put it on under my shirt. But I didn't bring my shorts. But... if you put your pyjama top on and I wear my tee shirt, that's all your mum will see, isn't it? She won't know we're not wearing anything else."

"That's true. But I usually get undressed after supper and then go back down to watch TV. You can't come down wearing nothing but a tee shirt, can you?"

"Well, I could - but I'd probably better not. What are we going to do, then? Should I stay dressed until bed time?"

"I could lend you my gym shorts if you like."

"Won't they be too small for me?"

"I don't think so - they're really too big for me. I have to use a safety pin to keep them up. Let's try, anyway."

Timmy got out of bed and retrieved a pair of white shorts from his chest of drawers, and Christy pulled them on. They fitted pretty well.

"That's okay, then," he said, taking them off and getting back into bed. Timmy got in with him and they snuggled up once more.

"I was thinking," said Timmy. "Maybe we could try going to sleep with your thing in my bottom. I bet that way we'd both be able to have really naughty dreams about each other."

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea. I bet we wouldn't be able to get to sleep like that, and even if we did, we'd be sure to move about in the night, and then it would slip out and we'd get Vaseline and... well, stuff, on the sheets. And I bet your mum wouldn't like that. Anyway, I don't need to go to sleep inside you to dream about you: I've dreamed about you a couple of times at home."

"Were they nice dreams?"

"Nice, but messy. Do you know what a wet dream is?"

Timmy shook his head.

"Well, it's where you dream about something sexy. In the dream you're doing something sexy, and your body sort of thinks it's really happening, and so spunk comes out of your cock, and you wake up with wet shorts - or wet sheets if you're not wearing anything. That's why I always wear shorts in bed now."

"What, and you've had dreams like that about me?"

"Yes, a couple of times."

"Wow!" said Timmy, giggling. "What was happening in the dreams, then?"

"I can't remember, except you were there, and whatever we were doing was so good I got too excited."

"Well, tonight you won't have to dream about it: we can do it for real - if you can remember what it was, of course."

"I don't think I can, so we'd better try a few things and see if any of them rings a bell, hadn't we?"

"Good idea. We've still got at least an hour and a half before Mum gets home, and if we haven't worked out what it was by then we can start again after Mum's been in to say goodnight to us."

"Erm... Timmy, I don't think we ought to do anything after your parents get home."

"Why not?"

"'Cos... well, when you get excited you tend to make a bit of a noise."

"Do I?"

"Yes, and sometimes it's quite loud, and we don't want your mum to come running up the stairs shouting, 'Timmy, what's wrong? Why are you making that funny squeaking noise?', do we?"

"I do not make a funny squeaking noise - do I?"

"Well, yes, a bit. I quite like it, actually, but we'd better not risk it later on. Once we've gone to bed we'd better settle for cuddling each other."

"Oh. Okay, I suppose that won't be too bad."

"No, and we've got an hour and a half now where you can make as much noise as you like - so what should we do first?"

"Well... can I suck it first, please? If we do that, you can make the other thing go on longer..."

"Okay - if you're sure that's what you want."

Christy still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have a friend who actually wanted to do this, but he wasn't going to argue. He rolled unto his back while Timmy burrowed beneath the sheets and set to work.

By now Timmy had done this several times and had become quite proficient, co-ordinating the use of hands, tongue and lips to maximum effect. He made no attempt to spin it out: as far as he was concerned, this was primarily just a precursor to the main event - though he was happy to admit to Christy that he quite enjoyed sucking as well.

In due course his efforts were rewarded with a cry from Christy and a couple of spurts in his mouth, which he swallowed before wriggling back up to lie next to his friend.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Brilliant," said Christy, hugging him.


They lay quietly, holding each other and occasionally exchanging kisses, for around three-quarters of an hour, after which Christy felt more than ready to proceed to the next stage. They got out of bed and Timmy took up his usual position kneeling against the side of the bed, but this time Christy had other ideas.

"Can we try it a different way tonight?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Can we try it with you lying on your back? I'm not sure if we'll be able to do it like that, but I'd like to try, because if we can we'll be able to look at each other at the same time. And I like looking at you."

"Okay. How do you want me?"

Christy positioned him with his bum close to the end of the bed and then got him to lift his legs, and Timmy drew his knees up to his chest, supporting them with his hands, while Christy got busy with the Vaseline. He found it much more straightforward like this - he could see where to put himself, for a start - and it was just as easy, if not easier, to penetrate in this position. Once he was fully inside he smiled at his friend and asked if he was okay.

"Fine," said Timmy, returning the smile. "It feels a bit strange, but you're right, it's nicer when we can see each other."

Christy started moving slowly, stopping frequently to make it last, and using the pauses to stroke Timmy's little erection, or to lean forward so that they could kiss each other. After a while Timmy started to find it a bit of a strain keeping his legs in this position, but he found that he could either rest them on Christy's shoulders or relax with them on either side of his partner's body for a while, and this solved the problem. Besides, he was enjoying this so much that a little discomfort was completely acceptable. Even after his first climax he was able to maintain his position easily enough.

Once again Christy couldn't hold back beyond Timmy's second climax - indeed, he wouldn't have lasted that long without accelerating Timmy's excitement by rubbing his erection for him. And once again the moment of orgasm was breathtakingly wonderful, though this time it was even better because now he was able to lean forward and hug and kiss his friend without having to disengage first.

"God, Timmy" he said, when he got his breath back, "you're the most amazing boy I've ever met... "

They went to the bathroom to clean up and then went and got back into bed for a little longer. Christy almost fell asleep again, but Timmy kissed him back into consciousness.

"We'd better get dressed," he said. "Mum will be home soon."

So when Timmy's mum got in from work she found them sitting together on the settee watching television.

Christy took great care that evening, conscious that when he was out with Mikey, or even to a lesser extent with his own family, he often swore quite a lot, and he knew that this would be a really bad idea here. So he paused before saying anything, thinking before he spoke, and as on his previous visit everything went really well.

After supper they went upstairs and Timmy put his pyjamas on while Christy changed into his tee shirt and Timmy's gym shorts, and then they went back downstairs to watch some more television. Christy was very conscious of what he was wearing: with no underpants on beneath the shorts he had to be very careful to keep his legs together if he didn't want to make an exhibition of himself, but he made it through to bed-time without mishap.

At ten o'clock they went upstairs and got into bed, keeping their lower clothing on to start with, and a few minutes later Mrs Collier came in to say goodnight. They had put the two pillows side by side and were deliberately keeping to the sides of the bed so that they weren't actually touching each other, but she still looked at them a little doubtfully.

"There really isn't much room like that," she said. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a sleeping bag?"

"No, this is fine," said Christy. "Besides, if we're like this and he snores, I'll be able to dig him in the ribs and stop it."

'"I don't snore," said Timmy. "Bet you do, though."

"Well, if you're sure you'll be all right," said Mrs Collier. "The sleeping bag's in that cupboard if you change your mind."

She went out and closed the door behind her, wondering just briefly if they were likely to do anything they shouldn't. Then she shook her head: Timmy was still just a little boy, and the gipsy lad was still far too young, too - his voice hadn't started to change yet... no, she decided, they'd probably never even think of misbehaving.

Once she was gone they waited a few minutes before starting their misbehaviour by removing their lower clothing, and then Timmy wriggled on top of Christy and kissed him. Christy put his arms round him and hugged him hard.

"It's too late to change your mind now," said Christy, "so you'd better not snore, or I'll make you go and sleep in the bath."

"You wouldn't!"

"Okay, I probably wouldn't. I'll just tickle you to death instead."

"You won't have to - I don't snore. And I know you don't, if I'm honest: you've already been asleep with me here before."

"Only for a few minutes. Perhaps I don't start until I've been asleep for a couple of hours."

"Then perhaps I shouldn't let you go to sleep at all. Now, I wonder what I can do to keep you awake..."

They kept each other awake for an hour or so with a combination of cuddling and kissing, but eventually Timmy grew tired, rolled over onto his side and fell asleep. Christy lay beside him for several minutes - long enough to establish that Timmy didn't snore - thinking about how lucky he was to be friends with a beautiful, loving boy like this. And thinking these thoughts he put his arm around Timmy's shoulders and went to sleep himself.

He woke up next morning to find a beautiful blond angel asleep next to him. Okay, the hair was a bit tousled and untidy for an angel, and neither cherubim nor seraphim traditionally wear striped pyjama jackets, but apart from that... He lay quietly watching his friend for a few minutes and then leaned over and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. Timmy stirred and rolled onto his back, and that meant that Christy was able to plant the next kiss on his lips, and this one had the desired effect: Timmy opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times and then smiled at him and returned the kiss.

"Morning," he said, sleepily. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Brilliantly. And you definitely don't snore, by the way."

"Told you," said Timmy, complacently. "Did you have any nice dreams about me?"

"I can't remember any - which is just as well, 'cos I forgot to put my shorts on again, so I'd have made a mess on your sheets if I had."

"Really?" Timmy thought he ought to check for himself, so he reached across and found Christy's penis still happily unconfined by clothing. It was soft when he first took hold of it, but it didn't stay like that for long.

Christy promptly returned the favour - Timmy hadn't put his pyjama trousers back on, either, but in his case it was intentional: he knew there was no danger of him messing up the bedding - and pretty soon Timmy was nice and hard as well. They caressed each other for a few minutes, and then Timmy burrowed down under the sheets and took Christy's erection into his mouth.

"What are you doing?" asked Christy, which was a pretty stupid question by then. "I won't be able to do the other thing with you in case your mum hears us, or just comes in to say good morning, so you really don't have to do that."

"I know," said Timmy, breaking off for a moment. "I'm doing it because I want to. I've told you before, you taste nice." And he resumed activities.

Christy decided not to argue any more: instead he just lay back and enjoyed it. As he got close he had to bite his lip to stop himself from making any noise, but even so at the vital moment - which was every bit as brilliant as previous ones under Timmy's ministrations had been - a sort of gasp did escape him, though he managed to turn it into a stifled cough.

Timmy wriggled back up alongside him.

"Yum!" he said. "An early breakfast!"

Christy couldn't help laughing, though he tried hard to muffle it and ended up instead in a coughing fit. He buried his face in the pillow until it had run its course, then turned, put his arms round Timmy and squeezed hard.

"Are you trying to get us into trouble?" he enquired, still having to suppress laughter.

"Me? You're the one making funny noises," Timmy pointed out, virtuously.

"You know, I'd kill you if I didn't love you so much."

"Then I'll have to make sure I always stay loveable, won't I?"

Christy brought himself fully under control, fished around in the bed for his shorts and wriggled his way back into them. Then he got out of bed and pulled the covers back up over Timmy's shoulders.

"I need a pee," he said, heading for the door. But before he got there it opened and Mrs Collier came in.

"Oh, good, you're already awake," she said. "Breakfast in ten minutes, all right?"

Christy said good morning to her and carried on to the bathroom, wondering what on earth she would have said if she had come in five minutes earlier. He decided that in future he and Timmy would have to confine their naughtier activities to when they had the house to themselves.

The morning passed peacefully - after breakfast they sat and watched Swap Shop on TV, and after lunch, when it was time for Christy to go home, he found that he had made such a positive impression on Timmy's parents that Mr Collier not only got the car out to take him home, rather than letting him catch the bus, but also chatted to him in a friendly way during the journey. Christy felt sure that they would not object to him visiting Timmy in future - and that, with the Easter holidays only a week away, was very good news indeed.


...all of which just goes to prove that you can have a really good time together without needing to beat the crap out of someone, something one or two other characters in this story might want to think about. But the next chapter will see Truscott spending time with both Carlington and Michael, so it'll be a major surprise if he makes it through to the end of the chapter without someone hitting him...

Yes, I'm still at gothmog@nyms.net and I still enjoy getting bouquets – and they don't have to be orchids, either...

Copyright April 2007 – all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part thereof anywhere without my written permission.