Timmy and the Travellers – Chapter 20
OK, so we're back with Stephen the Temporary Traveller, and this time he's got a surprise for Tom. But before that their visit to the swimming pool is going to take an unexpected turn...
By Wednesday night the wall was almost finished, so when Stephen went back with Tom’s father and the others on Thursday morning it was just to hang the gates, finish off the capping at one end and generally to tidy up. This was done by mid-morning, at which point the boys kept out of the way while Mr O'Leary and Brendan's father showed the householder the finished job
"Another happy customer," said Mr O'Leary, coming back to the van, where Stephen and Tom were waiting for him. "Now... we thought that it might be an idea for us to go to the pool this morning, because it'll be a lot less crowded now than it will be this afternoon. So we're heading back to the site to pick up the ladies and our towels, and then we'll be heading straight off - so don't disappear when we get back, okay?"
He drove them back to the site and they ran inside to collect their towels and swimming trunks - Stephen only had one pair of trunks, so he hadn't been able to find anything too ratty looking, and he'd packed a fairly good towel as well - he wasn't going to be wearing it, after all.
They all piled back into the van - Tom's mum and sister were coming, too - and drove to the swimming pool in Poundford Spa.
"We'll just be coming in for a quick dip and a shower," Mr O'Leary told them, "and then we'll be away to the shops. You boys can take your time - but mind you're waiting for us when we get back - by half past twelve at the latest, mind. Now, I expect you'll want something to eat after, so here's your pay. Make sure you don't lose it." And to Stephen's amazement Mr O'Leary handed him a five pound note.
"But... what's this for?" he asked.
"Helping us with the wall. You've put in a couple of days' work, and hard work, at that. You've earned it."
"What about me?" asked Tom.
"What about you, Trouble?" replied Mr O'Leary. "Do you think I should pay you for getting under everyone's feet and spilling the tea?"
"I only spilt it once!"
"So you did," said Mr O'Leary, grinning at him, and he handed him three pounds. "And before you say anything, your friend's older than you, and he can carry bricks, and lay them. When you can do that, you'll get paid more."
"I never said a word," said Tom, virtuously.
"Good. Okay, away you go and get changed. And mind you behave in there!"
Stephen was quite a good swimmer, and it turned out that Tom was, too - after all, he came to the pool every week, so he got plenty of practice. They raced each other, practised their diving and chased each other round the pool. After a while Brendan and Alan arrived and joined in, trying to catch Stephen and duck him, and then they switched their attention to Tom, though he was generally too quick for them and managed to escape their attempts to catch him.
Eventually they got out and headed for the changing room. They had paid for a small family changing room with its own showers, which Tom explained they did every week because it meant they could take as long as they wanted in the shower without having to fight for a place with everyone else in the pool - which, as today was a school holiday, was quite a lot of people. On the other hand, there were only four shower heads, and one of them was not working, which meant that a certain amount of co-operation was called for.
Stephen noticed that both Brendan and Alan removed their trunks before seizing two of the three working shower heads, so he took his off, too, and managed to grab the third position before Tom, who was hunting in his bag for his soap and shampoo. Eventually Tom found what he was looking for, removed his trunks and came and tried to barge Stephen out of the shower. Stephen, being a lot bigger, simply stayed where he was.
"Come on, Stephen, please - give me a bit of room?" pleaded Tom.
"That's better," said Stephen, moving out of the way. "I don't mind sharing, as long as you ask nicely."
"He never asks for anything nicely," commented Alan.
"Then I'll have to teach him, won't I?"
"Fat chance," said Tom, who, now that he was under the spray, didn't see any point in being polite any longer. "You couldn't teach me anything."
"Probably not, but I think I ought to try," said Stephen. "You can't go on being a cheeky little boy all your life."
"Who are you calling little? You're a lot littler than me, at least where it counts. See, Alan, I told you he had a tiny cock, just like all townies."
"Is that true?" asked Alan, looking at Stephen's genitals and trying not to giggle. "Do all townie boys have small ones?"
"Of course not, Stupid," said his brother. "He's just pulling your chain, as usual. They're exactly the same as us: some have big ones, and some have small ones - like you. Being a townie's got nothing to do with it."
"Mine's not small;" protested Alan, and it wasn't, not really: it was probably about the same size as Michael's or Christy's, though he had a little more hair than Michael, albeit not much more. Brendan's, of course, was larger and hairier, but Brendan was fifteen, while his brother had only just turned thirteen.
"I don't think it is, either," said Stephen. "You're bigger than me, anyway. But some townies have big ones - I mean, Tom, what about Colin? He's bigger than Alan, and Colin's only eleven. And Truscott's is pretty big, too."
"Yeah, but what about Timmy? He's hardly got one at all."
"Who's Timmy?" asked Alan.
"A friend of ours," explained Stephen. "He goes to my school. And it is true that his is really small. But I don't think it matters what size it is, and I don't understand why Tom keeps going on about it."
"Wait till you want to go out with a girl," said Brendan. "Girls think it's pretty important, I can tell you."
"Has Annie seen yours yet?" asked Tom.
"That's none of your business!" Brendan told him.
"Yes, she has," Alan put in. "At least, that's what Bren told me after the last time he went out with her."
"Okay, Big Mouth, yes, she has. But I don't want everyone in the camp to know about it - so you'd better button it, O'Leary, or you're dead, see?"
"Ooh, I'm scared!" said Tom, pretending to hide behind Stephen.
"You will be if I find out you've spread it about - seriously, Tom, keep it to yourself, okay, otherwise me and Annie will both get in trouble."
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," promised Tom. "Provided you tell us what you did with her, that is. Did you fuck her?"
"Of course not! Fucking hell, Tom, we've not been going out that long - and I didn't have any condoms, anyway."
"So, what, did she suck you?"
"What did she do, then, just look at it and laugh?"
"Get lost, O'Leary. Look, if you really want to know, she gave me a wank, okay?"
"Oh," said Tom. "Not bad, Bren - and obviously now you won't need Alan to do it for you any more."
"Shit! What did you tell him that for, moron?" Brendan demanded of his brother.
"I didn't!" Alan protested.
"Then how does he know about it - 'cos I certainly didn't tell him."
"Yes, you did," said Tom; grinning at him. "Just now."
"What, you mean you didn't actually know... oh, shit. Fuck, O'Leary, you've been hanging round Danny Kelly for too long - that's the sort of trick he usually pulls. Look... you're not going to tell anyone, are you?"
"What's it worth?" asked Tom.
"Well, if you don't tell anyone, you get to stay alive. How's that?" asked Brendan.
"Not good enough. Tell you what, though - I won't tell anyone if you let me and Stephen watch Alan wanking you off now."
"Fuck, no! We'd never hear the end of it!"
"Yes, you will - neither of us will say a word. But if you don't, as soon as I get back to camp I'm going to tell Danny, and five minutes after he hears about it, the whole camp will know. Including Annie, by the way - reckon she'll agree to do it for you again if she knows she's in competition with your brother?"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Wanna find out?"
"What, are you afraid Stephen will talk about it?"
"Not at all - I trust him a lot more than I trust you. No, it's Annie I'm thinking about - you're right, she'd never speak to me again if she found out about it. I just don't trust you not to tell Danny, and then she'd be sure to hear about it."
"He won't tell," said Stephen. "I know him pretty well by now, and I think you can trust him to keep his word. And if he doesn't, I'll never speak to him again."
"But if you refuse, I'm definitely going to tell," said Tom.
"Well... suppose we said yes: how do we know you won't make us do it again next time we're here?"
"You don't," said Tom, grinning at him.
"Then we're not doing it - unless we've got something to hold over your head, too. So here's the deal: you two can watch Alan wanking me; provided we get to watch Stephen wanking you."
"Why should I agree to that?" asked Tom.
"Because it's fair: that way if you tell anyone about us, we'll have something to tell them about you."
Tom looked at Stephen. "What do you think?" he asked. "It'll be a really good laugh watching them, 'cos I bet Bren comes loads, but there'll be nothing much for them to see from me, 'cos I can't come at all yet. Shall we say yes?"
"It's up to you," said Stephen. "I don't mind."
"Okay, then," said Tom. "It's a deal. Go on, then, Alan, make him spurt!"
So the brothers angled their two showerheads to make sure they would both be in a steady stream of warm water, and then Alan came and stood behind his brother's right shoulder and took hold of Brendan's penis, which quickly responded.
"Let's see it, then," said Tom, once it was fully erect, and Alan let go long enough for them to get a good look. It was now probably a little over six inches, sticking out almost horizontally from his body.
Alan took hold of it again and started to rub it steadily, while Tom and Stephen watched with interest.
"Hey, look, Stephen," said Tom after a couple of minutes, "Alan's gone hard! He must really like doing this!"
"I can't help it," mumbled Alan, moving closer to his brother to try to hide his erection. "It just happens, okay?"
"Getting close," said Brendan, after another minute or so. They stared at his penis, and were rewarded when it suddenly erupted: five or six spurts of quite thick white ejaculate jetted out and landed in front of them.
"Gosh, is that what spunk looks like?" asked Stephen.
"Yeah," said Tom. "There's loads of it, isn't there? Soon I'll be able to do that, too."
"You wish," said Brendan, getting his breath back. "Thanks, Al. Okay, you two, your turn."
Stephen wondered briefly if he should lie on his back and invite Tom to sit on him and try the "two willies in one hand" method, but quickly decided against it. Instead he adopted a position similar to that which Alan had used and started to play with Tom's thing, which soon hardened nicely.
"Have you done this before?" asked Brendan. "You look as if you know what you're doing."
"I'm just trying to do what Alan was doing to you," replied Stephen, which of course avoided actually answering the question.
He worked away steadily, and was pleased to discover that, although doing this with Tom was normally enough to make his own penis go stiff; this time it hadn't, probably because there was an audience here. He thought he'd draw this to their attention, so he said, "Looks like yours is still hard, Alan. I hope you can see that mine isn't - I don't seem to get quite so excited by doing this to someone as you do."
"That's probably only because you aren't mature yet," replied Alan. "I bet if you did this to him after you grow up a bit and get some hairs, the same thing would happen to you."
Stephen couldn't really answer that and wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Instead he carried on rubbing Tom's erection until finally Tom tensed up and gasped as he climaxed.
"Nothing yet, then," commented Alan, who was still hard.
"He's only ten," Stephen pointed out, loyally "How much of that stuff did you have when you were ten?"
"Fair comment," said Brendan, grinning at his brother.
"Are you going to do him now? He's ever so stiff," Tom asked him.
"No. Family rule: little brothers have to do themselves," said Brendan.
"That seems a bit unfair," said Stephen.
"That's the way it is: I've never done it to him and I'm not starting now. I'm sure he won't mind if you do it for him, if you're feeling that sorry for him."
"Would you?" asked Alan. "I'd like to know what it feels like if someone else does it."
"Oh, okay, then," said Stephen, and came and stood close behind Alan, reaching round and taking hold of him. It was no thicker than Tom's and not that much longer, so he had no difficulty getting into a rhythm.
"Oh, that's nice," exclaimed Alan. He saw that Brendan and Tom were grinning at him, so he closed his eyes, and after a minute or so he reached round behind his back and took hold of Stephen's genitals. Stephen jumped slightly at the touch but didn't try to move away, so Alan kept tugging on the penis until it was good and stiff.
"Please could you go a little faster?" he begged, after a bit, so Stephen speeded up a little.
"Alan can't come!" taunted Tom.
"I can! I swear I can... come on, Stephen, please let me come..."
"Alan's got no spunk!" teased Tom.
"I have! Let me show you..."
Alan couldn't admit that he'd already wanked himself twice today, once shortly after getting up and once when he had gone back to his caravan to collect his swimming things. What Stephen was doing to him felt absolutely brilliant, and he knew that if this had been his first time of the day he'd have come ages ago; but he still wasn't ready, and the look on Tom's face was humiliating. He closed his eyes again, tugged some more on Stephen's little stiffy and tried to will himself to reach climax.
At last he felt the pressure building up.
"It's coming!" he gasped, and three or four strokes later he spurted out a small jet of something with a whitish tinge but a thoroughly liquid consistency. A second followed, and then a small dribble.
"That's not very much," commented Tom. "Hardly worth waiting for, I'd say."
"Fuck off, Tom," said Alan. "Thanks, Stephen, that felt really, really good. At least now I know what it feels like when I do it to Bren."
"It feels even better when Annie does it, but I reckon that's mostly in my head, rather than her technique," said Brendan.
"Are you going to do Stephen now?" asked Tom. "Looks like you've made him all hard."
"No, thanks," said Stephen, before Alan could reply. "I don't really want you to. I'd better have another wash instead - I probably got all sweaty doing that twice."
He'd found it interesting doing it to Alan, but really he didn't want to do this sort of stuff with anyone except Tom, and certainly he didn't want anyone else rubbing him: as far as he was concerned Tom was the only person who was allowed to do that. He'd only done it to Alan because he felt sorry for him, and if Tom had protested about it he would have stopped straight away.
They all had another good wash - Tom and Stephen washed each other's backs, and then Stephen borrowed Tom's shampoo (he'd forgotten to bring any of his own) and gave his hair a good wash, and then helped Tom to wash his.
By the time they were all dressed they only had five minutes left to get something to eat, so they nipped up to the snack bar and bought some chocolate and a can of drink each and then went outside to wait for Mr O'Leary and Brendan's dad to come and pick them up.
The camp site was quiet after lunch: the rest of the men and boys had come back from their drive-laying, picked up wives and daughters and headed for the swimming pool. Tom wanted to go off and play in the woods, but his mother had other ideas.
"You've just got clean, and we're going to church tonight, so you're not doing anything messy," she told him. "And that means you're not going out of sight of this van, understand? I know you, Thomas O'Leary: if there's any mud around, you'll go and roll about it in. Well, not today. You can stay inside and play cards, or something. I'm taking Bridie round to see Mrs Byrne for a bit, but if I come back and find you're not here, you'll be saying hello to your father's belt later on. Now see if you can't behave nicely for a change." And she called Bridie and went out.
"Who's Mrs Byrne?" asked Stephen.
"Brendan and Alan's mum. We're probably the only two families still here - everyone else has gone to the pool, which is why she can't go to visit Auntie Maureen as usual."
"And what's that about going to church? I didn't realise you'd be doing that. Do I stay here, or should I go back home, or what?"
"You can come with us, if you like. We don't go very often, but it's Maundy Thursday today, so we're supposed to if we can. Most of the other families don't go to Mass any longer, if they ever did, but we do."
"Mass? I don't know if I can come to that. I'm not a Catholic - in fact I don't think I'm anything, really. We don't go to church. I suppose that makes me C of E..."
"You don't have to be a Catholic to come to church - it just means you can't take communion. I'd like you to come if you can - that way we'll have been together for the whole time."
"Well, OK, as long as I can just sit there. I won't be able to join in, anyway - it's all in Latin or something, isn't it?"
"No, of course not. I think it used to be, but it stopped being in Latin ages ago - before I was born, I think. It's in English now, so you'll be able to understand what's going on."
"OK, then I'll definitely come. So... what are we going to do between now and then?"
"Well, I can think of lots of things I'd like to do - but we'd better not in case mum comes home earlier than we expect her to. It's a pity we can't sneak off to the garage...Oh, well, I expect we'll find time tomorrow."
So they played cards, and word games, and draughts - there was a battered set in the caravan, though they had to use coins in place of a couple of missing pieces - until Tom's mum came back to the caravan, and at that point Tom had a bright idea.
"Stephen wants to come to Mass with us tonight," he told her, "but he'd prefer to put some better clothes on - he doesn't really want to come to church in his oldest stuff. Would it be alright if we went to his house so that he can get changed? We promise not to go in the woods or anything on the way..."
"Well, I suppose so," said his mother. "But God help you if you don't come back looking as clean as you are now."
"Great! Thanks, Mum!" And he grabbed Stephen's elbow and pulled him outside before his mother could change her mind.
They made their way to the garage and wedged the chair under the door as before, and Stephen retrieved his bag from the shelf and got out the better clothes he had been wearing on Monday morning.
"Now you know how you have to do this," Tom told him. "Take everything off first, and then you can go back to looking like a townie - even if you still won't be one really for a bit longer."
Stephen didn't mind this game in the least, so he removed all his clothing and packed it away in the bag.
"Come and let me check for anything hidden," ordered Tom, moving to the mattress.
"What could I possibly hide?" asked Stephen. "I haven't had anything to hide for the last four days."
"I still want to make sure. Now come here or I'll spank you."
"I'd love to see you try," said Stephen, but he joined Tom on the mattress all the same.
Once again Tom ran his hands all over Stephen's body, and once again the inevitable happened, but this time Tom intended being a lot less cruel.
"Lie on your back," he said, "and then we can make up for what didn't happen at the pool. Though I still don't know why you didn't want Alan to do it to you. Was it because you're ashamed of not being able to come - especially as you're older than he is?"
"Not really. I just didn't want anyone else touching me like this . You're special, Tom, and you're the only person I want to do this sort of thing with. OK, I had to let Timmy touch me there when we were doing our sex homework, and I'll be honest and say I didn't really mind doing it with him; but you're the only one I want to make me get the sex feeling."
"Oh," said Tom. "Then... I'm going to try to do it really nicely. Lie back."
"Not like that, you're not," said Stephen. "I want to have you close against me, and we can't do that while you've got your clothes on. Besides, we don't want your clothes getting all sweaty, do we? Your mum definitely wouldn't like that."
"I suppose not," agreed Tom, grinning, and he quickly threw his clothes off. Then he came and lay close against Stephen's right side, took hold of his small erection and began to rub it slowly.
"That's going to take for ever," said Stephen.
"That's the idea. I want this to go on feeling nice for ages."
"Yes, but we haven't really got ages. If we take too long your mum's going to get annoyed."
"I suppose you're right," said Tom, and he speeded up just a little.
Of course, Tom knew that Stephen was right and they couldn't take too long, so he kept at it steadily and didn't pause along the way, as he would have done if he had really been trying to make it last. Before too long Stephen was wriggling about and begging him to speed up, and so he did, even though he would have preferred to draw the whole process out instead.
Stephen gasped and bucked his way to orgasm and then told Tom to stop, hugging him hard.
"Thanks, Tom," he said. "Okay, your turn..."
"No, it isn't," said Tom, wriggling back out of reach. "I had my turn at the pool. Besides, we haven't got time now. Come on, let's get dressed."
"Are you sure?"
"Well... no, not really But we really should be getting back, so it'll have to wait, anyway. Come on, then, let's see you put all that soft townie stuff back on."
So Stephen put his proper clothes on, complete with pants and socks, which felt a little strange after four days without any. Tom was dressed in half the time, of course, and by the time Stephen was ready to go Tom had removed the chair from the door and was waiting just outside.
After supper the whole family, wearing their best clothes (which still made Stephen look good by comparison), got into the van and drove to the Catholic church in Poundford Spa. Stephen was able to follow what was going on in the Mass book handed out at the door, but he didn't know any of the hymns and wasn't entirely aware of the meaning of everything that went on - the foot-washing ceremony struck him as particularly strange.
When it was time for communion he stayed in the pew with Bridie, who was too young to have made her First Communion, while the rest of the family went up to the altar rail. One more hymn and it was all over, and Stephen joined the rest of the family in heading for the door.
"Hey, look," said Tom, nudging him, "there's Colin. Let's go and say hello."
Carlington was of course with his family, and an interesting expression crossed his face when he saw them heading his way: Stephen looked perfectly respectable, but even in his best clothes Tom looked distinctly untidy. He wasn't sure what his mother would say if he acknowledged that he knew this scruffy kid. Still, there was no way out of it, so when Stephen said, "Hello, Carlington," he replied, "Hello, Wood," straight away. Using the surname, as if they were at school, helped to put a bit of distance between them, and Carlington wondered if Stephen had done it deliberately to help him out.
"I didn't know you were a Catholic," he said. "I haven't seen you here before."
"I'm not, but I've been staying with Tom all week, so when he said he was coming here this evening I thought I should come with him."
"What, you've actually been living with him? Gosh! What's it like?"
"Different. There's not much in the way of luxuries, but in a way it's sometimes sort of fun. Look, your parents seem to be waiting for you - I'll tell you all about it when we get back to school if you like."
"Okay. Bye, Wood, bye, Tom - I expect I'll see you here over the weekend."
"Probably," said Tom. "Bye, Colin."
The following morning after breakfast they sprang the surprise on Tom.
"Now it's your turn," Stephen told him. 'I've had four days as a traveller - now you're going to try life as a townie for four days. You're coming home with me for the weekend."
"But... I mean, how come? Won't your parents throw a wobbly if you turn up with me in tow?"
"Nope, they already know about it. Your dad agreed it all with my dad last weekend. I asked if we could do it like that, so we could both find out a bit about each other. Come on, we're going."
"But... I'm not packed, or anything. And how come nobody said anything to me about it?"
"We thought it would be more fun to surprise you," said Mr O'Leary. "Of course, Mrs Wood's got no idea of what she's letting herself in for, but your mother and I are going to have a nice, quiet, Trouble-free weekend. How could we say no to that?" And he winked to show that he didn't really mean it.
"All you need is this," said his mother, handing him his washing kit. "Off you go, now: we'll see you at church on Saturday night."
"Huh?" said Stephen, because he didn't know about that bit.
"It's Easter Midnight Mass," explained Mr O'Leary. "I explained to your father that Tom really had to be there, and that he wouldn't be able to come and stay otherwise. Actually I think that's why he agreed to the whole swap-over business: the idea that we go to church seems to have changed the way he thinks about us. Of course, maybe he should have realised that it's perfectly OK for us to con townies all year long, as long as we can go to Confession and get it sorted out afterwards." And he winked again.
"Come on," said Stephen once more, more or less dragging Tom out of the caravan.
"Look, are you sure your parents won't mind?" asked Tom as they headed for the garage.
"Well, yours didn't seem to mind me. Of course, mine have never met you, so it could be a problem - after all, it's sort of hard to cope with you..."
They reached the garage.
"Hang on," said Tom. "I can't really spend Easter weekend with you wearing these clothes. They're not even my best ones."
"Then you'd better take them off, hadn't you?"
"But I haven't got any others - and if I wear the ones you were wearing earlier in the week, I won't only look just as scruffy, but I'll look even worse, 'cos they'll be too big for me."
"Well, we can try, anyway. Now get undressed. And you know how this works by now - every stitch, Tom, and then I'll have to check for contraband."
"Stuff you're trying to smuggle in - like for some reason you keep thinking I'm doing, stuck behind my balls and places like that. Now get the rest of those clothes off and come here to be checked."
He still wasn't happy about his clothes, but this was a game that, like Stephen, Tom didn't mind playing at all, so he threw his clothes off and stood on the mattress with his hands on his head, ready for inspection. Stephen, of course, did a very thorough job, and only declared himself satisfied about ten minutes later, by which time Tom's penis was painfully stiff.
Next Stephen removed his own clothes, revealing that he was in a similar state.
"Of course, now I'm not a traveller any longer, there's no reason we can't go back to doing what we did before," he said. "Except... well... instead of me sucking it... look, Tom, do you still want to fuck me? 'Cos I think I want you to."
Tom gaped at him. "Are you sure?" he said. "I mean... well, it's like I said ages back, I only really want to do that with someone... well, you know, special - and that's you. But I don't want to do it unless you're sure it's what you want."
"It is. I've thought about it a lot, Tom: I've really enjoyed being with you this week, and when we were talking on Monday about... you know, you moving away... well, I thought then that I'd like to do this with you so we'll always have something special to remember if... well, just in case. I don't suppose I'll ever let anyone else do that to me again, and you being the only one would be something really important. So... we haven't got any Vaseline, because I haven't had a chance to get hold of any, but you've got some shampoo in your sponge-bag, and I reckon that'll work just as well. So get it out and we'll find out."
Tom got the shampoo from his washing kit and poured a little onto his erection, rubbing it in, and Stephen rubbed a little round his bottom and knelt down on the mattress. Of course, neither of them had done this before, but they'd both watched it being done to Truscott, so it was no great mystery.
Tom knelt on the mattress behind him and tried to line up, and Stephen tried to guide him into the correct position, but he just couldn't get it to slip inside. And after a minute or so vainly trying to get it to go in, the tension finally got to Tom and he started to lose his erection. After everything that Stephen had said, he was desperate to make this feel good for both of them, and that made him even more tense, and soon the erection had completely subsided.
"Oh, Stephen, I'm really, really sorry," he said. "I'm so useless.. I w... wanted it t... to be s... s... special..." And he started to cry.
Stephen rolled onto his back and pulled Tom into his arms.
"Hey, it doesn't matter," he said, stroking his hair and hugging him. "We'll get plenty more chances to try again. Maybe if I suck on you first to get you in the mood - next time, that is: I don't fancy a mouthful of shampoo right now."
"I'm pathetic," sobbed Tom.
"No, you're not. You're my friend, and I love you. Look, it's only 'cos it came as such a surprise this time - you weren't ready for it. Next time you'll be able to think about it beforehand, and we'll both be ready. And probably my mattress at home is softer than this one, too. Come on, Tom, we both know you've got a really nice cock - once it's got a nice comfortable bed to work on I bet it'll do a brilliant job."
"You really think so?"
"Of course I do. Now let's get this shampoo wiped off and then we can get dressed."
So they used the same box of tissues that Colin had used on the Tuesday, and then Stephen retrieved the carrier bag that Timmy had left on the garage shelf on Tuesday morning.
"Put some of these on," invited Stephen. "We reckon Timmy's about the same size as you, so it all ought to fit. He told me he's never worn the pants or socks, by the way - he's got a drawer full of socks that all his aunts keep giving him for Christmas, apparently."
So Tom arrayed himself in Timmy's spare clothes, while Stephen put his own clothes back on.
"Pity we haven't got a mirror here," he commented, once Tom was dressed. "Come here a minute..."
He pulled a comb from his pocket and used it to tidy up Tom's rather shaggy hair.
"Now you look like a real townie," he said, tucking the comb back in his pocket. "Come on, then: let's go and see what my parents think of my new little brother."
Considering the inexperience of all of the boys when the story started, it's a bit of a surprise that none of the others ran into this problem, but sooner or later it was likely to happen, and now Stephen and Tom know what real life is like. Still, as Stephen pointed out, there'll be plenty more opportunities to get it right.
Looking for a good mail address? Try firstname.lastname@example.org – eight out of ten cat owners didn't say their cats preferred it to other mail addresses...
Copyright June 2007 – all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part thereof anywhere without my written permission.