Timmy and the Travellers – Chapter 17
OK, back to the start of Monday morning – later in this chapter we'll see what Christy and Timmy are up to, but first let's follow Simeon on his way to visit Uzzy...
On Monday morning Simeon got his bike out and cycled into Poundford Spa. It had been a lot easier to persuade his mum to let him go than he had expected: she didn't even want to know which of his friends he wanted to visit, just as long as he promised to be really careful on the road and to be home in good time for tea.
In fact she was right to be worried: Simeon was really excited about visiting Usman, and he was in such a hurry to get there that he was a lot less careful on his bike than he usually was; but fortunately he didn't have any right turns to make - at least, not until he was well away from the main road - and so he reached Usman's house unscathed. He jumped off his bike, checked once more that he was in the right place - Usman had given him the address and a small sketch map - and rang the bell.
A lady, presumably Usman's mother, answered the door.
Simeon took a deep breath, and doing his absolute best to suppress the lisp, said, "Hello. Can I sspeak to U...Uzzy, pleathe?
She smiled at him, turned and called "Usman!" and a few seconds later Usman came running down the stairs. Mrs Shabbir went back into the house, and Usman took Simeon's elbow and led him back outside, leaving the door open.
"Look, Sim, there's a bit of a problem," he said.
"Oh," said Simeon, his big smile disappearing. "What'th wrong?"
"Nothing. But I've got someone with me - I wasn't expecting him but he does drop in sometimes, and he turned up about twenty minutes ago. His name's Kamran - he goes to mosque with me."
"Oh. Do you want me to go, then?"
"Of course not. I've been looking forward to you coming round since the end of term."
Simeon's smile returned, and Usman continued, "I just wondered... how would you feel if... suppose I wanted to spank you, and stuff, with Kamran there. Would you let me?"
"Well... I'm not thure... I mean, if you order me to let you, I'd have to, but..."
"I'm not going to order you to do anything. We're friends, Sim, you know that, and this is our game: I promised I wouldn't tell anyone else about it unless you deserved it. But... I mean, Kam doesn't go to our school, so he wouldn't be able to tell anyone about it - nobody at our school would know. And he's nice, Sim. He's a bit older than me, but he still likes playing with me... look, it's up to you: if you don't want to, we can just play normally until Kam goes home. And I promise I won't be annoyed with you, or anything."
"But you'd like to play our game really, wouldn't you?"
"Well, yes - but not if it makes you unhappy, Sim."
"Okay. I'll come up and meet him tho I can thee what he'th like, and then I'll make up my mind. If I want to play our game I'll give you a thumbth up when he ithn't looking. If not, I won't. Okay?"
"Great - thanks, Sim."
"And you promith not to be angry with me if I thay no?"
"I promise, Sim."
Usman gave him a quick, and completely unexpected, hug and ran back up the stairs, and Simeon followed him. He really wasn't sure about letting a complete stranger join in their private game, but he could tell how much Usman wanted him to agree to it, and he decided that unless he got a very bad impression of Kamran he'd probably say yes.
He followed Usman into what was obviously his room and saw another brown-skinned boy sitting at a table and studying a chessboard, on which a game was in progress. The boy looked up as they came in, saw that Usman wasn't alone, and stood up to greet the newcomer.
"Kam, this is Sim - he goes to my school," said Usman. "Sim, this is Kam."
"Hello," said Simeon, guardedly. Kamran was about three inches taller than he was, with quite long black hair and the same brown eyes as Usman, though without the glasses. When he smiled, as he was doing now, his teeth looked very white.
"Hi," he replied, his voice a bit deeper than Simeon's. "Can you play chess?"
"Then come and give me a hand, 'cos he's killing me."
Simeon looked at the board and saw that even Bobby Fischer couldn't have got out of the mess Kamran was in: he was a rook, a piece and two pawns down, and his king's position was under siege. Simeon wasn't bad at chess, but he couldn't see a way out of this disaster. Nevertheless he gave Kamran the best advice he could, something he was able to do without his lisp becoming apparent: of all the chess pieces, only "bishop" has an 's' in its name, and Kamran had already lost both bishops.
With Simeon's help Kamran postponed the inevitable defeat for another ten moves, by which time Simeon had decided he really was nice, as Usman had said: he liked the way Kamran joked and laughed his way to defeat without once getting annoyed at Simeon's inability to get him out of trouble. So he caught Usman's eye and flashed him a quick thumbs up.
"Sure?" asked Usman, and Simeon nodded.
"Great!" said Usman, with a big smile. "See, Kam, the reason Sim came round is... well, we had this bet, which he lost, and now he has to do whatever I tell him to; and in the last couple of days at school he was rude and disobedient to me. So I told him he had to come round today to be punished. So - do you fancy helping me?"
"Yes, okay. You're not going to do anything too nasty to, him, are you?"
"Depends how he behaves," said Usman. "I'm allowed to do anything I want to him if I think he deserves it."
"What, absolutely anything?"
"More or less. But I thought we'd just give him a good spanking to start with. Go on then, Sim, get ready."
With only the slightest hesitation Simeon began to get undressed. He was sufficiently shy in front of Kamran that as soon as he removed his pants he cupped his hands over his genitals, and - unlike on previous occasions with Usman - he didn't have an erection, either. Usman sat on the bed and pulled him over his lap, and once he was in position he started to spank him, firmly but not excessively so. Simeon squealed and wriggled, but didn't make any serious attempt to escape.
"Your turn," said Usman, once he had dished out ten blows, and Kamran sat down on the bed next to him and grinned at Simeon.
"Come on, then," he said. "Naughty little boys have to be punished."
Simeon shuffled across, still keeping his hands over his genitals, and Kamran pulled him onto his lap and started to spank him.
"Harder than that," said Usman. "He won't even feel those."
So Kamran hit him a little harder, though it still didn't really hurt. When he had finished Simeon scrambled to his feet, still covering himself.
"Ith that it?" he asked.
"For now," said Usman. "Put your pants on, anyway."
So Simeon, carefully keeping his back towards them, put his underpants back on.
"Right, come and stand over here, with your back against the wardrobe, and put your hands above your head," instructed his master, and once Simeon was standing in the correct position Usman tied his hands to two loops of string that he had tied to the top hinges of the wardrobe doors earlier that morning.
"Now," he said, "obviously I owe you a lot more than just a spanking, but as you've been a good boy and turned up on time I'm going to give you a chance to get out of any more punishment. We're going to play chess. If you win, I'll let you off; if I win, you're in deep trouble."
Simeon wasn't a bad chess player, but he knew that Usman was better: when they played at school Usman won about four out of every five games they played. He supposed that this still gave him a genuine chance, even if a) it wasn't much of one, and b) he was in two minds as to whether or not he actually wanted to get out of any further punishment. Had Kamran not been there he thought he would probably have lost on purpose, but he still felt embarrassed about being spanked by a boy he had never met, and for that reason he decided to do his best to win the game.
"How am I going to move like thith?" he asked.
"We'll put the board right in front of you, and you can use your toes," said Usman, grinning. "Or, if you can't manage that, you can ask Kam to make your moves for you."
So Usman put the table between the wardrobe and the bed, sat on the edge of the bed and played pawn to K4. Simeon made one abortive attempt to pick up his own king's pawn with his right foot, and when the board had been recovered from the floor and set up again he asked Kamran to make the move for him.
The game progressed. For the first dozen moves or so Simeon held his own, but gradually Usman took control of the centre of the board and then launched a major attack against Simeon's king. He held out for as long as he could, but eventually there was a big exchange of pieces, which left Usman with three extra pawns and an easily-won endgame.
"Oh, dear," he said, grinning. "Seems we haven't finished with you yet. You'll never guess what I've got in my bedside drawer..."
He went to the drawer in question and came back holding two small feathers.
"Oh... no, Uthy, not the feather! Pleathe don't...."
"What did he call you?" asked Kamran.
"'Uthy'. He's got a really bad lisp. The other kids sometimes make fun of it, but I don't - I think it's unkind. Actually, I've been thinking of a way to help him stop doing it... but first things first."
He stepped up to his prisoner and pulled his underpants down and off, and then tied his ankles to the pieces of string he had prepared earlier around the bottom hinges. Now Simeon was in the same position he had been in when Usman had carried out the feather torture at school, with the one exception that his penis was still soft. It didn't help that Kamran was staring at it and grinning: he'd never been exposed like this in front of a total stranger.
"We can't do this properly while it's all floppy," said Usman, and he took hold of Simeon's limp penis and began to squeeze gently. It wasn't long before this had the desired effect and it began to harden.
"You have a go," invited Usman. "See if you can get it any harder."
"Are you sure? Okay, then" said Kamran, seizing the organ in question enthusiastically. He squeezed and stroked and pulled and pushed, and soon it was as hard as it could get. Once again Simeon was caught between two emotions: his private places were being handled by a total stranger - but, on the other hand, it felt really nice. So he wriggled a bit but didn't say anything.
"It's quite big, isn't it?" commented Kamran, letting go and staring at it. "How old are you, Sim?"
"Eleven, the thame ath Uthy. Well, I'm actually four monthth older than he ith."
"Well, it's not bad, for eleven. You don't seem to have any hair yet, though... Okay, Uzzy, what do we do now?"
"This," said Usman, moving the table out of the way and putting the two chairs there instead. "Take this and see what you can do with it."
He handed Kamran a feather and then sat down and lightly touched the tip of the other feather to Simeon's erection. Simeon gasped, and his penis gave a massive twitch. Kamran laughed.
"See how much you can make him wriggle," advised Usman, applying the feather to the underside of Simeon's scrotum.
So Kamran tried tickling the very tip of the penis, and was rewarded with another big twitch. And for the next ten minutes or so they tormented Simeon with the feathers, though this time the treatment was rather more wide-ranging, because Kamran decided to try using it on his ribs, armpits and nipples, as well as his genitals. And of course this time he had to suffer being tickled with two feathers simultaneously, usually in widely-spaced places, and it was absolute murder: he giggled and wriggled and writhed, pleading and begging for mercy, while his two torturers tried to suppress their own laughter and keep the feathers moving.
Eventually Usman took pity on him and told Kamran to stop.
"So," he said, "now are you going to be a good boy?"
"Yeth!" cried Simeon, as soon as he got his breath back. "Yeth, I thwear!"
"And do you agree to letting Kam help me to punish you in future?"
"Yeth, I do," said Simeon, with virtually no hesitation.
"Good. Okay, Kam, help me untie him."
Between them they untied the prisoner, and once he was free he was made to kneel down and promise Kamran that he would be a good boy in future, and that Kamran was now allowed to punish him if he wasn't.
"Okay, you can get dressed," said Usman, to Simeon's surprise. "But remember, you've got off very lightly. Next time we'll really have to punish you badly."
"Why, what else can we do to him?" asked Kamran.
"Anything you like, now. He's just promised to let you, remember?"
"Yes, but supposed I wanted to do something... well, dirty, to him?"
"Then he'd have to let you - wouldn't you, Sim?"
Simeon nodded. "You can do whatever you want, even really rude thingth," he confirmed.
"Wow!" said Kamran, his face lighting up - and then he put his hand in his pocket and sort of hunched forward, and Simeon could tell from the state of his trousers that he had an erection. He realised that this meant he might end up doing the same sort of thing with Kamran as he was already doing with Usman, and once again he wasn't sure about it - but then he thought that if Usman enjoyed watching, it would be OK.
"Come on," said Usman, oblivious to Kamran's problem, "let's go out and play in the garden."
He stood up and led the way downstairs, while Kamran tried to conceal his erection and Simeon tried not to make it too obvious that he was looking at him. But it seemed to have subsided by the time they got outdoors.
For the next hour or so they played cricket using tennis balls. The grass was quite short, which meant that it was possible to bowl fairly well, but the garden wasn't all that wide, which meant that every so often a ball would get hit over the fence into the neighbouring gardens. Eventually they ran out of balls and had to stop, but by that time Kamran said that he ought to be getting home anyway, or he'd be late for lunch. He said goodbye and left.
"Why didn't you make me do.. you know, the normal thtuff?" asked Simeon, once Kamran had gone.
"Because... well, I wasn't sure you'd want to. I mean, it's... you know, private, and I didn't want to annoy you by making you do something really rude like that in front of him."
"Thankth, Uthy. But I'd have done it if you'd told me to."
"I know you would, but that doesn't mean you'd have wanted to, does it? Just because I can make you, doesn't mean I'm going to: it's much more important that we stay friends than that I show you off to my other friends and make you unhappy."
"Thankth," said Simeon again, and, after a quick check of the back window of the house to make sure Mrs Shabbir wasn't watching, he pulled Usman into a hug, which Usman returned enthusiastically.
"Of course, it doesn't mean you're going to get away with it today," said Usman. "Now that he's gone we can do everything we want - well, everything I want, anyway. Just wait till after lunch..."
"About lunch...you know there are thingth I'm not allowed to eat, don't you?" said Simeon. "I can't have pork, and if we have burgerth I can't have cheethe on it..."
"It's okay, I checked at mosque, and the imam said your laws are quite like ours. We don't eat pork, either. He did want to know why I was asking, so I told him the truth, and he didn't seem to mind, which surprised me a bit. Still, I suppose he knows I'm the only Moslem in our school, so it's obvious all my school-friends will be from other religions, and I suppose that he doesn't have quite the same problem with Jews that my dad has. Anyway, we won't be eating anything you're not allowed to."
In fact they had chicken and chips, which Simeon had no objection to at all, and then they went back up to Usman's room and closed the door.
"Mum won't come upstairs, and even if she did she'd knock before coming in," said Usman, "but even so I think perhaps I'd better not put it in you today. You're going to have to put it in your mouth instead. And... why haven't you started getting undressed yet?"
"I have," said Simeon, hastily undoing his shirt.
"Hmm. Now, should I blindfold you again? I'm not sure that you ought to be allowed to look at me when I'm undressed."
"Oh, pleathe don't!" begged Simeon. "You look so good when you're bare..."
"Well... Ok, then. After all, you let Kam join in... right, once you've finished undressing I want you to undress me, too, like last time, except this time you can feel everywhere as you go - you don't have to wait until I'm bare. And once you've finished undressing me I'd like you to suck on it again, okay?"
So very slowly Simeon undressed his friend, pausing to stroke every available inch of his body as he went, until finally Usman was naked. Simeon drank in the sight of Usman's naked body for a few seconds, then got him to lie on the bed, while he positioned himself between Usman's legs and started, extremely slowly, to suck on the swollen penis. Usman lay back comfortably, spreading his legs to allow Simeon to reach his balls easily and idly stroking his slave's hair, and enjoyed a wonderful fifteen minutes, after which Simeon finally kept going long enough to allow Usman to reach a marvellous climax.
Afterwards Usman told Simeon to come and lie next to him.
"Why do you let me boss you around like this?" he asked.
"'Coth I thwore to obey you."
"Yes, but..... I mean, you know I wouldn't do anything if you said you wanted to stop - so why do you let me keep ordering you to do all these dirty things?"
"A promith ith a promith, Uthy - I'm not allowed to change my mind now, whatever you tell me to do. Bethideth... it'th fun."
"Really? How can it be fun, being undressed and tortured and made to do really rude stuff like that?"
Simeon shrugged. "It jutht ith. I love playing thethe gameth with you, Uthy. I mean, I don't underthtand why I like it, I jutht do. I like it when you thmile, 'coth then I can tell you're having a good time, and when we're playing you thmile a lot." He shrugged again. "And... I like it when you look at me when I'm bare, too: I like having nothing on in front of you, 'coth that way it'th obviouth that you're in charge... it'th thort of hard to ecthplain..."
"I don't understand it, either, but you're right about it being fun, and the feelings you give me when we do the rude stuff together are amazing... It's just that I want to be sure you really don't mind, that's all. I'd hate it if you were unhappy and didn't tell me."
"I'm not unhappy - like I thaid, I really enjoy it, even if you think I'm mad."
"Not mad, more like... strange. But I'm serious, Sim: I'm ordering you to tell me if I ever go too far, or really hurt you, or do anything you're not happy about, OK?"
"And... look, Sim, I shouldn't have got the feathers out again. You told me last time that you didn't really like me doing that. I'm sorry..."
"That'th OK. Anyway, I didn't mind it tho much thith time. And Kam really theemed to enjoy doing it, too."
"And you really didn't mind Kam joining in?"
Simeon shook his head. "He'th nithe, like you thaid he wath. I wouldn't mind if you wanted him to do rude thtuff with me, either."
Usman hugged him again. "You're definitely strange, Sim," he said, "but I'm not complaining: you're a brilliant slave boy. And now you can give me my clothes - in fact, put yours on, too, and we'll go and see if there's anything on the telly."
On that same Monday morning Christy caught the bus into Bridgehanger, walked the last short distance to Timmy's house and rang the bell. Timmy answered the door himself, said "Not today, thank you," and closed it in his face. Five seconds later the door opened again and Timmy pulled him inside.
"I might have to spank you for that," said Christy, hugging him instead. "What would you have done if you'd opened the door again and I'd gone?"
"Run after you, I expect. It was worth it to see the funny look on your face, though."
"Now I'm definitely going to have to spank you. Is your mum home?"
"No, Mum and Dad are both at work today. Normally they'd have made me go and stay with my gran, or something, but I told them you were coming and they said that in that case I could stay at home - they just didn't want me being on my own all day."
"Does that mean they trust me now, then?"
"Looks like it - so I think I will be able to come back with you tomorrow. Only for one night, though - I think we'd be pushing our luck if we asked if I could come for longer."
"You might find that one night is more than enough."
"I don't think so - I wouldn't mind being a bit uncomfortable if it means we can be together. Anyway... would you like to start with a bath?"
"He's saying I smell again," Christy told the painting of the highland cow on the wall in the hall. "I'll definitely have to spank him now, won't I?"
"Noooooo!" said Timmy, standing next to the picture and hiding his mouth behind his hand.
"Huh! Even the pictures in this house talk rubbish!" commented Christy, heading up the stairs.
He had a nice long bath, while Timmy sat on the loo and chatted to him about this and that, and afterwards they went through to the bedroom and got into bed as usual - and, also as usual, they started out by just lying quietly with their arms round each other.
They had been lying like that for about twenty minutes when Christy realised that Timmy was crying silently.
"Hey, Timmy, what's wrong?" he asked.
Timmy rolled over to face him. "It's... it's just... This is all going to go wrong, isn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"This has happened to me before... See, we only moved here a couple of years ago, when my dad changed his job. You know what I'm like, Christy: I'm sort of shy, and it's hard for me to make friends... well, I had one really good friend when we used to live in Basingstoke - I mean, we didn't do anything like you and me do, but we were really good friends, and always together... and then we moved. It took me ages to get over it, and I swore that I wouldn't let it happen again - and now it's going to, isn't it?"
"Well... no, not if we don't want it to."
"But you're going to move away, aren't you? It' s obvious - that what you do..."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't come back and see you, does it? I mean, your parents obviously do trust me now, or they wouldn't let us stay here on our own all day, so I'm sure they'll let me come over and stay with you at weekends sometimes. And I think they'll probably let you come and stay with me, too, at least during the school holidays. Okay, we won't see each other all the time, like we do now, but I think we'll still be able to get together at least one a fortnight."
"No, we won't. What if you end up a hundred miles away? You'll never be able to afford the bus or train fares, not even if I send you all my pocket money."
"We probably won't go anything like as far as that - but I don't care how far we go, I'll find the money somehow. Look, Timmy, you're really special - I've never had a friend like you, and I'm not going to lose you without a hell of a fight, okay? I don't even care if you end up going to a boarding school in the north of Scotland, somehow I'll get there - and even if I can't, I promise we'll be able to see each other during the school holidays. You're not going to lose me, understand?"
Timmy rolled over against him and hugged him hard, still trying unsuccessfully not to cry, and Christy held him until he got himself under control. Eventually he looked up, smiled weakly and kissed Christy on the cheek.
"Thanks," he said, quietly. "It's just... I've been trying really hard not to think about what will happen when you go, because I don't think I could stand it if you weren't around, I love you so much... but it seemed childish just to pretend it wasn't going to happen, sort of like an ostrich with its head in the sand, and I just wanted to be sure that... well, that you felt the same way as I do..."
"I do," said Christy, returning the kiss. "I'd hate it if you weren't around. And I promise I'll talk to my dad and see if I can persuade him not to move too far next time. I don't think he understands why I should want to be friends with a townie, but maybe if he knows how important to me you are he'll try to help if he can."
Timmy kissed him again. "Come on," he said, "let's get up and go for a walk, or something - I don't really feel like doing... well, you know - at the moment. Let's just go out and play for a bit."
So they got dressed and went outside. Timmy locked the house up and they headed off down the lane to do some exploring. They followed the lane all the way down to the river and then followed the river northwards for a couple of miles or so, before taking a footpath back to one of the lanes that ran between Bridgehanger and Turnwood and following that lane back to the village. They took the whole thing at a gentle amble, stopping to explore a couple of old pill-boxes by the river (Note for the non-Brits out there: these are concrete gun-emplacements, often hexagonal or octagonal in shape, that were built all across south-east England in the early stages of World War Two in anticipation of a German invasion. Most are still there today, having proved as resistant to attempts to demolish them as they were supposed to be to German tanks and artillery), climbing a couple of inviting trees and generally enjoying the warm weather.
They got back to Timmy's house in early afternoon, and Timmy got busy in the kitchen, making sandwiches and fishing out the assorted cakes, crisps and fizzy drinks his mother had left for them (Healthy eating? We'd never heard of it in 1976!!). After that they went back to Timmy's room and he got out his train set, and they spent the rest of the afternoon playing with it, getting so engrossed that they completely lost track of time, only realising how late it was when they heard Mrs Collier's key in the lock of the front door.
"Oh, hell, Christy," said Timmy, "we never got round to doing... well, you-know-what. I'm really sorry..."
"Don't be silly. That's not why I come round to see you, is it? Well... okay, it's one reason, but it's hardly the most important. I mean, if someone told us we could never do it again, I'd still want to see you just as much. Anyway, I really like playing with your trains, and I enjoyed our walk, too. And it's not as if we won't be able to do the other stuff tomorrow, is it?"
"I suppose not. As long as you don't mind..."
"I don't, honestly. It's fun, but I can manage without. It's not like I'm sex mad, or something... though, come to think of it..."
He grabbed Timmy and pretended to try to pull his trousers off, and Timmy giggled and defended himself, trying instead to tickle Christy, who he knew by now was particularly susceptible to it. They stopped as soon as Mrs Collier called up the stairs to check that everything was okay.
"Fine, thanks, Mum," said Timmy, standing up and doing up his trousers once more. "We'll be down in a moment."
Once Mr Collier got home the boys launched their campaign to persuade Timmy's parents to let him go and stay with Christy the following night, and as they had hoped their combined "pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?" assault overcame all resistance. A little later on, while Christy was in the toilet, the parents did check to see that this was really what Timmy wanted to do, and then issued a few words of warning about not taking a lot of money with him and looking out for savage dogs, and so on, all of which he fended off with the appropriate "Yes, dad" and "No, mum" responses they were looking for.
The rest of the day followed much the same pattern as on Christy's previous overnight visit: supper, getting ready for bed, television (though they were allowed to stay up watching a bit later this time because it was during the school holidays), and then bed, though this time once they had had their cuddling session and Timmy had rolled over to go to sleep Christy made a point of putting his shorts (this time he had brought his own) back on: as they hadn't done anything sexual all day he thought a wet dream rather more of a risk this time.
In fact he needn't have worried - once again he survived the night without embarrassing himself. This time it was Timmy who woke up first, and he returned the compliment of waking his friend up with a kiss.
"That's the nicest way I've ever been woken up," Christy told him. "Mind you, it's usually something like 'Christy! Get your lazy arse out of bed!!' which doesn't take a lot of beating."
"I can do that next time instead if you'd like."
"No, thanks, the kiss works nicely. Oh, and no misbehaviour this morning, okay? We nearly got caught last time, remember."
"That's fine, I'll just wait until mum and dad have gone to work."
So they got up, washed, dressed and had breakfast. Before she left Mrs Collier showed Timmy a bag she'd packed for him to take to Christy's.
"Mum, I'm only going for one night," he protested. "What's in the bag?"
"Clean pyjamas, a change of shirt, socks and pants, your washing kit, a towel - will one be enough, do you think? - and a pullover. Oh... do you think you'll need your dressing gown? I expect I can fit it in if I try..."
"No, Mum, I'm sure I'll manage without," Timmy assured her.
"All right. Now, I'm not working after today, so I'll be here when you get back tomorrow morning - I'll have some lunch ready for you. And you've got the office phone number in case you need me in the meantime, haven't you? Right, be good, Timmy - I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye, Christy - make sure he behaves himself." And off she went.
"You heard," said Christy. "I've got to make sure you behave yourself, so watch out."
"I don't know what she thinks is going to happen to me," said Timmy. "I've probably got enough stuff in that bag to explore the Amazon; she obviously thinks you're going to starve me, so she'll have lunch waiting when I get home; and maybe you'll try to murder me as well, which is why she wanted to make sure I can call her at work."
"She's just worried about you. We're just lucky she's not worried enough not to let you come."
"I suppose so... OK, now what didn't we manage to do yesterday? Let me think..."
"What, you've already forgotten that I'm sex mad? Come here, you - there's a sex maniac loose..."
Timmy squealed and ran for the stairs, and Christy chased him, bringing him down with a pretty good rugby tackle (considering that he'd never played rugby) just inside the bedroom. Then he pinned him down and stripped him naked, while Timmy squealed and wriggled and tried vainly to tickle him. He let go long enough to pick up Timmy's clothes and pile them on the chair by the desk, and Timmy promptly jumped up and ran from the room, wearing nothing but his St Christopher.
Christy chased him back down the stairs and into the living room, where for a few seconds Timmy dodged round and round one of the armchairs, but in the end Christy was able to grab his wrist, drag him over to the sofa and pull him down across his lap.
"Now you're going to get the spanking you should have had last night," Christy told him.
"You can't spank me - Angus said you shouldn't!"
"The cow in the hall."
"I don't take orders from cows," Christy said. "And your mum said I had to make sure you behave - well, this is what'll happen if you don't." And he spanked Timmy so lightly that Timmy barely felt it at all.
"So, are you going to be a good little boy now?" Christy asked him.
"Oh, yes, Sir, I promise, Sir, honest!" replied Timmy, trying not to giggle.
"Good. Because otherwise I'll have to do that again, even if we're in the middle of our camp with everyone watching."
"Yeah, right. Anyway, next time you try I'll tickle you to death."
"Want to try?"
"Not now, 'cos it's not fair - you've got all your clothes on."
"That's easily settled," said Christy, standing up and removing his clothes. While he was hampered by his trousers round his ankles Timmy jumped on him and started to tickle him, but Christy kicked his trousers off and retaliated, because he was very much aware that Timmy was even more ticklish than he was.
They wrestled for a bit, and then Timmy stopped trying to tickle and slipped his arms round Christy instead, hugging him, and the fight turned into a prolonged cuddle on the rug in front of the fireplace.
"We're going to have to go back upstairs," said Timmy, after a bit. "The Vaseline's in the bathroom. Come on, we might as well use the bed - it's probably more comfortable than the rug."
He stood up and helped Christy to his feet, and then they made their way back to Timmy's room (via the bathroom), and Timmy opened the Vaseline and started to rub some onto his bottom.
"Don't you want to do it the other way first?" asked Christy. "I'm not sure if I'll be able to hold out long enough to get you excited otherwise."
"I don't care. I just want to feel you inside me again. Come here and I'll put some on you, too."
Timmy stroked Christy's penis until it was good and hard and then anointed it with lubricant, and then he positioned himself on his back and raised his legs, as he had done before. Christy took up position between his legs and eased himself inside.
He did his best to hold back, stopping as often as he could, but this felt so wonderful that it was really difficult for him to restrain himself, and far too quickly he was aware that he was getting close.
"I'm sorry, Timmy," he said, thrusting the last few strokes. "I can't... can't hold it...aaahhhhh!"
He leaned forward and Timmy kissed him, stroking his hair.
"Don't worry," he said, "I expect we can do it again a bit later, and then you'll take longer."
Christy pulled back, handed Timmy a tissue and nipped into the bathroom to clean himself off.
"That felt so good," he said, once he was back in the bedroom. "But it isn't fair for me to feel nice if you don't. Look..."
He paused for a moment, but then he thought 'Why the hell not?' and continued, "Move up the bed a bit and spread your legs - yes, like that... right, let's see if you've taught me anything."
He lay down between Timmy's legs and slipped the tiny penis into his mouth.
"Whoa, hang on a minute," protested Timmy. "You're not supposed to do that. Danny said travellers never, ever suck."
"Danny was talking bollocks, as usual," said Christy. "Travellers can do whatever the fuck they want, okay? And right now I want to do this." And he started licking away at it once more.
"Look, are you really sure?" asked Timmy. "I don't want you to do something you'll be sorry for later."
"I'd never be sorry for doing something to make you feel good. Okay, I'd sooner you didn't mention it to Mikey or Danny, or Tom, but I still want to do it for you - unless you really don't want me to?"
"No, I... I'd like to know what it's like - but only if you're sure."
"I couldn't be surer. Now look, I've never done this before, so you'll have to tell me how to do it. Let me get it properly hard first..."
So Christy licked at it until it had grown sufficiently for him to be able to start sliding it into and out of his mouth. There still wasn't much to work with, and obviously he couldn't push Timmy's foreskin down the way Timmy did it to him because Timmy was circumcised, but he licked and squeezed, and stroked the tiny balls and round the base of the little erection, and it seemed to be having an effect...
"Aahhhh! That feels brilliant!" gasped Timmy, starting to push against him. "Please don't stop..."
It took a while to get him there, but Christy found that he was almost enjoying himself: Timmy kept gasping and wriggling, and finally he pushed up hard, making the high-pitched squeaking noise that Christy had teased him about on his previous visit. He kept on licking slowly until finally Timmy relaxed a little and told him he could stop, at which he let it slip out of his mouth and wriggled up to lie on top of his friend.
"Was that nice?" he asked, as Timmy put his arms round him and squeezed him hard..
"Oh, Christy, it was wonderful! It was almost as good as when it happens to me when you... you know, fuck me. Please, please say you'll do that to me again."
"What, now?" asked Christy, grinning and thinking that it really must have been good if Timmy had so far forgotten himself as to utter the naughty 'f' word.
"No, silly... well... no, not just yet. Perhaps next time you come to stay? I'd really like you to... Okay, we'd better get dressed, and then we can get the bus at twenty past - I'll race you. Bet this is one time I'm dressed before you," and he grabbed his pants.
Of course Christy had to go and rescue his clothes from the living room, so for once Timmy did win the race. Then Timmy went downstairs and collected the bag his mum had packed for him and brought it back to the bedroom, where he unloaded the pyjamas, replacing them with his gym shorts and an old tee shirt. He also changed the clothes he was wearing for some older ones, though he didn't go anything like as far as Stephen had done: these clothes were still in good condition. Finally he picked up a bulging carrier bag from his wardrobe and slipped the one containing his overnight things onto his shoulders.
They went back down to the kitchen, where Timmy handed Christy the smaller bag containing the packed lunches his mum had left for them, and then he ushered him outside, locked the door behind them and led the way to the bus stop.
Well, that's a step further than we might have expected Christy to take – better hope Danny doesn't find out, or he'll really get some stick. Anyway, the last couple of chapters have been all about people who like each other, but the in next chapter we'll follow Truscott as he goes to Carlington's house, where it's a safe bet that sweetness and light will be hard to find...
I'd be surprised if the words email@example.com don't ring a bell – yup, it's the ones you use if you want to drop me a line.
NOTE: turns out my last note was premature: I'm still having internet problems, this time with the phone line. Apologies for any delays in posting as a result.
Copyright May 2007 – all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part thereof anywhere without my written permission.