Date: Sun, 17 Jun 2012 08:54:30 +0200
From: Amy Redek <adultreading@gmail.com>
Subject: Francis. Part One.

    This story is for persons of eighteen years or over.  All comments,
good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered.

     Part One

    My birth took place on the fifth of November 1931 to my parents Peter
and Linda Lyon. They had prayed and tried to have a child ever since their
marriage in 1919. The extent of their trying maybe the excuse for my sexual
appetite later on in my life, but which of the genes I most inherited, I'll
leave you to judge.

     This event took place in our village in Wiltshire, about ten miles
from Trowbridge. There's a small loop road that turns off the road between
Trowbridge and Shepton Mallet that contains three villages, ours being the
middle one.

     It is in the shape of a cross, the road going through being the cross
piece. The short upper stem had four cottages either side of this lane that
led to the two farms to the north side of the village. On, what was our
main road, were five cottages either side of the short arm and two
converted houses on the corners of the longer arm. The one on the left was
the public house, and on the other, the local shop that contained a sub
post office.

     The long lower stem of the cross was our lane that ended with the
church and graveyard. There were ten semi-detached cottages on the East
Side with the vicarage at the end, attached to the grounds of the
church. On the other, there were twelve more of the same cottages that
ended with ours opposite the vicarage. Either my Grandfather or father, I
don't know which, had knocked through the walls to make two cottages into
one, and it was here I was born and raised.

     Not counting the floating population of farm hands, about one hundred
and ten people lived in the village, so adding to the total, I was, three
months later, christened. I was dressed in my Grandmother's own baptismal
gown and taken into the church to be baptised.

     The vicar, a newly ordained minister and this being his first parish,
and his first act in this position, was more nervous than I was. It was in
this nervous state that he failed to ascertain what sex I was, so when he
was told what my parents wished me to be called, he thought he held a baby
girl in his arms. He then poured the water over my brow and christened me
Francis Gervaise Lyon.

     I never did find out where the name Gervaise came from, because a year
later, both my parents were killed in a plane crash. They had been flying
in a new prototype of an aircraft that my father was financially involved
in. I wasn't with them at the time because a/ I was too young, and b/ I was
being looked after by my Aunt Ethel in the cottage.

     When the news was broken to her, she went into a panic, and not
knowing what she should do in respect of me, sent for her sister, my Aunt
Agnes. She being the more practical of the two who took charge of both
Ethel and myself.

     With my parents duly buried in that small cemetery, my two aunts had
to decide what to do with me. Both were unmarried so did not have any ties
with anyone else, and after all, I was family. Their main concern was of
their ages. Aunt Ethel was fifty three and Aunt Agnes, fifty seven. Mother
had been thirty nine when she gave birth to me, herself having been a late
addition to her own family, hence the age differences.

     But to their credit, my aunts decide to do their best by me and so
sold their house and moved into the cottage and took on the responsibility
of looking after me.

     All they knew of babies was that you fed them when they were hungry
and changed them when they were wet. But in spite of their lack of
knowledge in this sphere, they took on this task of bringing me up. I was
really a breath of life to them, because they then reverted to their
Victorian childhood and treated me as though I was one of their dolls.

     They let my hair grow, which was quite blond, so that they could spend
time brushing and shaping it to the fashion of the day, and then putting me
into dresses. These they made by cutting out the patterns and sewing it all
together, along with all the frills, flounces and bows of the period. Not
having had any experience with boys, this seemed the right thing for them
to do.

     As I grew up, I played out in the garden during the summer and indoors
in the winter. As I have said, our cottage was originally two, but had been
converted into one dwelling.

     We spent most of our time in what would have been the left hand
cottage. It had a cosy parlour with an upright piano, and it was nice in
the winter to be warmed by the log fire and listen to Aunt Agnes play while
Aunt Ethel sung the songs of her childhood and of the war, but without the
rude words that we mostly all remember them by. It was here that I learnt
to sing and how to breathe properly while doing so.

     The two upstairs bedrooms of this side of the conversion were for my
aunts. A door went through to the other half where my bedroom was. The last
room being converted into a bathroom and toilet.

     Downstairs, a door led from the parlour into the other half and what
would have been the same, but the scullery and kitchen had been taken out
to make it one large room. The floor had been re-laid with polished boards
that were ideal for dancing and having windows on either side gave the room
plenty of light. Here I was taught to dance by Aunt Ethel while Aunt Agnes
played on the baby grand piano in one corner.

     The whole place was a constant sound of music from the latest hit
songs through ballet to classical. Apart from my learning to dance in this
room, I was also encouraged to practice and play on the piano, though I
never did get up to the standard of my Aunt Agnes.

     This room was also my classroom and to the left, was the fireplace
surrounded by a big bookcase and I was encouraged to read as much as I
wanted. I even had a little desk in another corner and a blackboard and
easel by the window.

     In most respects, I was a lucky child in having two such educated
aunts like mine. Both had been teachers in private schools, but the
downside to this was that they were schools for girls only. But still, they
taught me all they knew. Aunt Agnes taught me music, singing, etiquette and
geography. Aunt Ethel excelled at arithmetic, history, the arts, French and
English.

     I was the only child in the village at that time, and the nearest
school was away in Trowbridge, so I was taught at home. If it was a
drawback my not having any playmates of my own age, I didn't notice it or
have any regrets that I didn't.

     Under the tuition of Aunt Ethel, I soon learnt to read and write and
she was very strict on my spelling and the proper use of grammar. By the
time I was six, I was an avid fan of Jane Austen. Her books rated above
those of the Bronte sisters to my mind.

     It was the romantic novels that I liked the best. I would fantasise on
being the heroine, or the Cinderella of a family, but eventually being
rescued from all my predicaments by the most handsomest man in the
world. Being kissed and whisked away to a fairyland and being made love to,
though how, the books always left this bit out.

     Whichever the period the book was in, when a dance was mentioned, I
would get Aunt Agnes to play the music for Aunt Ethel to teach me the
steps. In the room that was the classroom and opposite the bookcase, there
was a huge mirror on the wall on the opposite side of the piano.

     Here I would look at my reflection as we danced so that I could see
the footsteps properly. I also used it to practice the deep curtsey and the
short bob of the same, holding the hem of my dress out as I did this.

     It was during this period of reading that I constantly came upon
passages about the heroine's mother and father, and also mentioned
aunts. Having aunts myself made me ask the question about my own mother and
father, and was crestfallen to be told that I did have them once, but not
any longer.

     Aunt Agnes told me the story and showed me where they were buried in
the cemetery, and from then on, I laid flowers on their grave every
anniversary of their death. They too had been doing this every year anyway
without me knowing.

                                                           *

     The Second World War broke out when I was eight, though it didn't
really touch us except for the rationing and the black outs. A few of the
village menfolk went off to war, but the rest of us stayed there and said
our prayers for them in church. We used to go to church every Sunday
morning and again in the evening, and then once more on Wednesday evenings.

     There never was a large congregation with four of them making up the
choir. The vicar, on hearing my clear voice when I sang with my aunts asked
if I would honour the church by joining the choir. I looked at my aunts
with a hopeful smile on my face and they smiled back as they nodded their
agreement.

     I was very proud to put on my vestments and stand with the choir to
sing every Sunday and Wednesday. After the service, I was allowed to
collect up the hymn books and take them to the vestry and talk to the vicar
while he changed. Then, with the shutting down of the lights, he would walk
me to my gate in the darkness of the blackout.

                                                           *

     In was in the summer of 1943 that the vicar found out about the real
me. The Sunday evening service had finished and I had collected up the hymn
books from the pews and took them into the vestry. The others of the choir
had already changed and left, leaving the vicar and me alone as usual.

     I had just put the books away when the vicar noticed that the high
window blackout curtains weren't properly drawn together, letting a small
chink of light escape. He went over and tried flicking the curtain to close
the gap, but the ring at the top seemed to be stuck.

     `Francis! Can you help me? I just can't seem to get the curtains to
meet. If I lift you up, will you see if you can close them properly,
otherwise I'll have to get the ladder out and that is back at the
vicarage.'

     `Certainly,' I replied, going over to him. `How do I get up there?' I
was only about five foot in height then, whereas he was at least five foot
nine.

     `I'll lift you up. You don't look as if you weigh anything.'

     `Thanks,' I said dryly. He cupped his hands for me to put one foot in
and I let him lift me up into the air. I wobbled a bit as I went up, so one
hand left my foot and was placed under my bum to steady me. It took two
violent shakes of the curtain to close the gap, but then I started to slide
sideways through the effort.

     I gave out a squeal as my balance shifted and I felt myself start to
slide down the wall. The vicar shifted his hands and caught me before I
fell, one of his hands catching me right in the crotch.

     I can look back now and still see the look of surprise and amazement
that showed on his face as his hand felt the lumps between my legs as he
caught me. He actually held me for several seconds as if not believing what
he was feeling there before setting me down on the floor. The movement of
his hand and fingers had given me a funny feeling in my stomach and my
little pecker had become stiff inside the knickers I was wearing.

     I didn't give any thought to his expression or the way he next spoke
to me in a somewhat strangled voice. He seemed to stutter and couldn't get
his words out straight, but finally muttered about the curtain now being
okay. It was a silent vicar that saw me to my front gate and he hurried
across the road to the vicarage after a quick mutter of goodnight.

     I was given my nightly hot chocolate by Aunt Ethel and got my
goodnight kiss from both aunts and took my drink up to my bedroom. I went
and brushed my teeth before getting undressed and into bed to drink my
nightcap before turning off the bedside lamp.

     I lay there in the dark and tried to puzzle out the cause of the
vicar's stutter and as I thought of where his hand had touched me, my
pecker became stiff again. Was it his touch that made it become hard? I
held my stiff pencil sized dick in my hand and rubbed it, loving the
feeling and warm glow I got in my lower belly and realised that I got the
same glow when he touched me. I fell asleep remembering the touch of his
hand on me.

     On Sunday, the service had finished and the church was empty but for
the vicar and myself. I'd been collecting up the hymn books and took them
into the vestry to put them away. He was taking off his vestments and I
quickly took mine off after I'd put the books away and said my goodbye to
him and left.

     I'd reached the church door when I felt for my handkerchief which I
normally stuffed under the elastic of my knickers to blow my nose and found
it wasn't there. I must have dropped it in the vestry, I thought, and so I
went back.

     I went to push open the door when I heard a low moan coming from
inside and it could only have been the vicar making this noise. Instead of
going straight in, I just eased the door open a little, enough for me to
see inside and got quite a shock.

     He was standing by the vestry table and had his big pecker out and was
rubbing it in his hand, giving out these low moans. What was more, he'd
found my handkerchief and was holding it up to his nose as his hand worked
on his erection.

     I use that word now though at the time I didn't know all the names
given to the male parts, or female if it comes to that. My aunt's had
always referred to It as my pee pee when I was old enough to speak but I
might as well use the words that are in use now.

     There he was, sniffing at my handkerchief as he jerked himself off and
I just managed to catch what he was murmuring.

     `Oh Francis, Francis, Francis,' he groaned as his hand moved faster on
his cock and I saw a stream of semen come shooting out over the vestry
table.

     My eyes must have looked like saucers as I looked at a fully grown
man's penis and knew that It wasn't urine that was coming out of the end of
it. My own little prick rose up at seeing this, but what was more
astounding was the fact that he was using my name and sniffing at my
handkerchief as he did this.

     His body seemed to sag when he'd finished spraying the table top and I
saw it lying there, big and thick as he let go of it and amazed me again by
running his fingers through the sperm and then licking if off his
fingers. My own small prick was really hurting me and I tried rubbing it
through my dress, the glow in my stomach positively making me ache
inside. I continued watching as he finished licking his fingers and put his
cock away and that's when I ran from the church so that he wouldn't see
that I was still around.

     I went straight upstairs when I got home and into the toilet and
pulled my dress off and tried to do what he had done, rubbing my stiff
little prick to make me come, but I couldn't. I would get to a point where
it was a sweet kind of agony that made me stop before I could actually have
an ejaculation. I didn't know at the time that my body was just not quite
at the point for me to do this, but I knew I was bloody close to it.

     For the evening service, I was the first one there again and I had put
out the hymn books and was in the vestry when Donald, the vicar came in. I
privately called him that though it was either vicar, or Mr. Sinclair when
I spoke out loud.

     `It's warm tonight Francis,' he said to me.

     `It is. I'm sweating already with my vestment on,' I replied as I
turned my back to appear to be taking off my knickers surreptitiously,
though I knew he was looking. These I put to one side and left the vestry.

     The Sunday evening service is shorter than the morning one and it was
soon over and I collected up the books as the congregation and those of the
choir left the church. Donald was in the vestry when I went in and quickly
put them away and took off my vestment.

     `It's too hot in here,' I said, acting as though I'd forgotten that
I'd taken my knickers off. `I'll wait outside for you.' I went back into
the church, not closing the door properly and waited a few minutes before
creeping back to look inside.

     My prick rose up instantly when I saw him jerking off again though it
was my knickers he was sniffing this time. Again he was mentioning my name
as he worked on his, to me, big cock and saw him come again and do the same
as last time, scooping up some of it to lick off his fingers. I had my hand
up under my dress and was trying to emulate him and come, but I still just
couldn't get past that pain that I felt as I neared my peak.

     As he put himself away, I moved down and sat in a pew till he came out
and took my hand and we went out of the church and said goodnight at my
garden gate. Only this time, instead of leaving him, I turned round and put
my arms round his waist and hugged him.

     `I love you so much,' I said, pressing my face sideways to his chest,
pressing my body up tight to his and felt his sudden arousal and knew then
that he loved me. I think he was too shocked to say anything as I released
him and went through the gate of my home. I was trembling at my temerity in
what I'd said and I couldn't wait to get to bed to play with myself as I
relived the feeling of his cock rising up as I pressed my body up against
his.

     I took things even further for the Wednesday night service for I
didn't even bother putting on knickers that night and as I was first in the
vestry, took off my dress before putting on my vestment.

     I was trembling with excitement at the end of the service and made
sure that everybody else had left before entering the vestry. Donald was in
there and had just taken off his vestment when I spoke up.

     `It was so hot again that I took my dress off before the service,' I
said as I took off my vestment for him to see me naked, except for my shoes
and socks that is.

     `Francis!' he exclaimed in a strangled voice as he saw both the front
and rear of me. `You shouldn't do that! I can see all that you've got.'

     I didn't know at the time that he was looking more at my bum than at
my small cock.

     `What, this?' I asked, taking hold of my stiffening prick. `It's not
much to look at, it's much smaller than yours.'

     `How do you know that?' he asked.

     `I've seen you rubbing it in here, at the table, and shooting your
stuff out and then licking it.'

     `Oh my God,' he whispered as he sagged back to lean against the vestry
table, his head going up and closing his eyes. `You saw me?' he asked in a
whispered voice.

     `Yes,' I said, moving over to him and putting my hand to the front of
his trousers, feeling him with a hard on inside. `Can I do it for you?' I
asked, still rubbing my hand over the outside cloth.

     `Oh God help me,' he whispered out, his eyes still closed. `Yes
Francis, yes,' he whispered. I quickly undid the buttons of his fly and
pulled out his big erection to a gasp and a groan from him.

     I was surprised at how hot and heavy it was as I got it free from his
trousers. Also at how soft and silky the skin felt and how easily it moved
over the solid bar of muscle beneath.

     `Oh Francis,' he breathed out as I began to rub him. The skin moving
so easily as I worked my hand on him. `Hold it tighter,' he gasped, which I
did, loving the way the foreskin moved back and revealed the red shiny head
beneath, the eye appearing to wink at me as I did so. He must have been
excited for it was only a minute or so when his body began to stiffen as he
leaned back against the table.

     `I'm coming Francis, I'm coming,' he gurgled. My mind went into over
gear at these words. I`d seen him shoot out all over the table, but he was
facing the other way. If it came shooting out now, it would go all over
me. But he had taken this stuff into his mouth from his fingers, so, what
was wrong with me taking it into my mouth?

     So as he began to shudder, I bent my head and took the head of his
cock into my mouth, him giving out another gasp as I did so. My mouth was
only just big enough to take that swollen head that was hot and felt the
throbbing pulse as he began to come.

     It was a hard jet that caught the roof to be quickly followed by
another burst and it felt as if I was going to choke if much more was to
come out from his cock, but the next two surges were much smaller and I
swallowed, not without some difficulty, and felt it slide down my throat
and got a sudden thrill in my stomach at doing this to him.

     I kept moving my hand on him as his hands came and held my head, his
fingers stroking my hair as I took the last dribbles in and unconsciously
licked around the head, well as much as I could in that confined space that
was left.

     I lifted my head up, his prick sliding out to bounce against my chin
and looked up at him, feeling inordinately pleased with myself at having
done this for him.

     `Oh Francis,' he cried, his eyes now open and shining down at me and
he lifted me up and held me in his arms and kissed me.

     He loves me, my heart cried out as his lips were crushed up to
mine. He loves me! My arms went round his neck and I kissed him back as he
held me tight to his chest. It was the first kiss I'd ever had, the lips
tight and hard up against mine. It was heady for a child who'd never really
been kissed before. The kisses from my aunts were just pecks to the
forehead or cheek had not prepared me for a kiss of this intensity. My
pecker was squashed between us as I revelled in this returning of the love
that I felt for him.

     I think he was somewhat taken aback by my response for he broke off
the kiss and gently disengaged my arms from around his neck and set me down
on the floor.

     `Thank you Francis, but please don't get carried away.'

     `But you kissed me! You must love me! That's what it says in the
books. If you kiss someone like that, it means you love them!' I was nearly
in tears now as he knelt down before me.

     `Listen Francis,' he said, stroking my hair and shoulders. `I do love
you. I love you like I love everybody else. But our love must be kept
secret because it would not be accepted by other people.'

     `Why? You're a boy and I'm a girl, what's wrong with that?' I asked,
still trembling. `When a boy kisses a girl it's because he loves her.'

     `But you're not a girl Francis, you are a boy,' he said softly.

  This shocked me to the core.

     `But...but...' I stammered. He interrupted me.

     `Haven't your aunts' told you? Haven't they told you anything at all
of the difference between girls and boys?' I could only shake my head in
bewilderment; too many thoughts were jumbled in my mind.

     `Look. Talk to your aunts tonight. Ask them. Then come over to see me
tomorrow afternoon and tell me what they have said. Now let's get you
dressed, it's time you went home. But we must keep our secret, mustn't we?'
I nodded as he rose up and put his now deflated member away as I put my
dress on. He wiped the tears from my eyes with his handkerchief. `Can't
have you going home like that. Now let's go.' He took my hand and, putting
the lights out, took me down to my garden gate.

                                                           *

     `You're late tonight,' Aunt Ethel said as she fussed around putting my
hot chocolate and a few biscuits on the table for me.

     `I was talking with the vicar,' I mumbled around a biscuit.

     `What about?' she queried. Several times I opened my mouth to speak,
but I couldn't seem to utter the question that I wanted to ask. Surely they
knew whether I was a boy or a girl; they had put me in dresses, hadn't
they? I stuttered out something trivial and quickly finished my drink and
kissed my aunts goodnight and quickly went to bed.

     I lay in bed with my night-dress bunched up to my stomach and played
with my small erection as I relived that evening in the vestry with the
vicar. I could still see and feel his erection in my hand, and I nearly
swooned to remember the taste of him in my mouth. Then that kiss that he
gave me!

     Oh how I loved that first kiss that anybody had ever given me. I
wanted to take him in my mouth again and then have him kiss me again the
way he did tonight. My own erection was painful to me as I slowly jerked
away at it, trying to relieve the hurt that was there. Was this love, I
wondered, this hurt deep within my groin? I fell asleep dreaming of him
making love to me as in the romance novels that I had read.

     Next morning, straight after breakfast, I went to the classroom and
got down every book that I could remember that had pictures. They were
mostly drawings, but they always showed young girls dressed as I was, and
boys in trousers. When girls grew up they also grew bosoms, the same as my
aunts.

     Then I remembered the art books. These showed pictures of men and
women in the buff, and the only way I could tell which were the women was
by their breasts. A hand, artefact or fig leaf always covered the lower
parts of their bodies. Statues and cherubs, with long curly hair always had
the bits and pieces, small, like mine between their legs, so how could I
tell the difference?

     Couldn't the women have had the same as me concealed behind these
artifices just as titillation? I was no nearer finding out by lunchtime.

     After our lunch, I announced that I was going over to see the vicar,
and that I had been invited to tea so would be there till dinner time.

                                                           *

     `Good afternoon Francis,' he said when he opened the door and ushered
me inside. I replied in kind and followed him into his small parlour and
sat down on the settee as indicated.

     `Well? Did you ask your aunts?' he asked, sitting down beside me and
taking my hand in his. I trembled when he took my hand and I shook my
head. `I...I just couldn't seem to get the question out,' I stammered.

     `I understand,' he said in a low voice as he gave my hand a squeeze
that caused my heart to leap up into my mouth. `Let me get a pencil and
some paper and I'll try to explain.'

     So for nearly an hour he kept me fascinated as he illustrated and told
me the names of the various parts of the human sexual organs and their
functions. I was aroused at the drawings he had done and had a stiff little
pecker under my dress.

     `Your drawings have made me quite excited,' I said as I took hold of
his hand and put it under my dress. I had deliberately left off my knickers
so that he could feel my bare, erect flesh. He smiled at me as he gently
rubbed my erection.

     `It's done the same to me. Do you want to feel?' I nodded, and he put
my hand on his crotch so that I could feel his hardness through the fabric
of his trousers. `You can take it out if you want to,' he said. I didn't
need a second asking. I quickly slipped down onto my knees between his legs
and undid the buttons of his fly and pulled his erect cock out into the
light.

     `Can I do the same as last night?' I asked, my eyes not leaving the
hot flesh I held in my hand.

     `Of course you can Francis,' he replied, his hand stroking my hair. I
was almost drooling as so much saliva had collected in my mouth as I opened
it and took the fiery red head of it inside. I could feel the beat and
throb of his heart pulsing as I sucked on him and ran my tongue round the
inside of his foreskin. I felt heady and delighted to be doing this.

     `Donald, oh sorry,' this was the first time I had ever called him by
his first name and not sir, or vicar. `You don't mind me calling you
Donald, do you?' I asked, releasing his prick to look up into his smiling
face.

     `Of course not Francis,' he said with a little laugh, `it is my name,
but it would be better if you only did so when we are alone together.' I
gave the tip of his cock a quick kiss before speaking again. `Did you mean
what you said last night about loving me?' I gave his erection another
quick kiss.

     `Of course I did,' he replied. I then held his hot flesh against my
cheek before I spoke again.

     `Would...would you make love to me as you would to a woman?' There! I
had said it! What I must have subconsciously been dreaming about last
night, and thought of again that morning while flipping through the
books. I had finally asked him, and I waited with bated breath for his
answer. What I didn't know was that it was exactly what he had wanted to do
to me for a long time.

     `If you're sure that is what you want,' he said with his lovely
smile,' and when I nodded, my eyes shining up at him, he said, `let's go up
to my bedroom then.'

     We both stood up and I waited till he readjusted his clothing, and
with my legs feeling distinctly wobbly, let him take my trembling hand as
he led me upstairs to his room. This was a very Spartan room that he led me
into. It held a bed with a small table beside it. A dressing table with an
oval mirror fixed to the back, and on its top, two brushes and some hair
oil. The only other piece of furniture was the wardrobe.

     Still holding my hand, he took me to the bed and sat me down and took
off my shoes and socks. Then he lifted up my dress and pulled it over my
head and draped it over the brass rail at the end of the bed and told me to
lie back.

     He then quickly took his clothes off which were also hung alongside my
dress. He fumbled in the bedside drawer and brought out a small jar of
cream, and taking the lid off, placed it on the top of the table. He turned
round to face me and I could see that he still had his erection and also
his lovely smile still on his face.

     He then got onto the bed and lay down on his side, facing me. He could
see that I was nervous, trembling from head to toe, so he bent his head and
kissed me. It was soft and loving and I responded to it by throwing my arm
around his neck to pull him tighter to me. His free hand ran up and down my
body, caressing and stroking me at the same time

     `I love you Francis,' he whispered into my mouth as we kissed and I
whispered the same back to him. `I'm now going to make love to you the only
way we can. It may hurt a little at first, but don't worry about it as I'll
be as gentle as I can.'

     With that, he moved up onto his knees and rolled me over onto my
stomach and then pulled me up till I was on my knees with my face still
down on the bed. I saw his hand reach out for the cream and he took a daub
of it onto his finger, which I then felt being smeared at the entrance to
my backside. I flinched a bit at the coldness, but waited, holding my
breath for the next move.

     His hand came upon my hip and I felt, what I knew to be his erection,
touch me where the cream was. I could feel the heat of him through this
cream when he suddenly thrust forward and the head of his cock entered
me. He was in so quick that my inside muscle hadn't time to react, and then
I felt the warmth of him as he slowly slid right into me till his thighs
touched the cheeks of my bum.

     I let the breath I had been holding ease out of me in a big sigh as I
felt him throbbing right inside me. My heart pounded with a glow and gush
of love for Donald that increased even more as he started to move inside
me. He slowly pulled back till only the head remained there before moving
forward again. I loved it! I loved the feel of his hardness moving back and
forth in me and the gentle slap of his balls against my thighs as he moved.

     He had both hands on my hips now as he started to move faster and
faster. The rubbing of his cock head inside me was generating some heat as
he moved, and this heat went down to my own balls that made them ache with
the pleasure I was getting. Donald was grunting now as he pulled me back
tight to him, and I felt his shaft get even bigger as it began to twitch
and throb as he came inside me.

     His weight on my back bore me down flat onto the bedcovers, my own
erection getting squashed beneath me. He still kept moving inside me as he
lay full length on top, my own little cock rubbing against the
cover. Suddenly, the pain that I had in my own balls passed as I came for
the first time, spewing out under the pressure into a sticky mess between
my stomach and the bed.

     I cried from both relief and pleasure at being loved this way and of
having my own release at such a time. The tears poured down my cheeks as I
whispered the words of love over and over again. I cried yet again as he
withdrew from me, leaving an empty aching void within.

     `Just stay there a moment,' he whispered into my ear, giving me a
little kiss at the same time. `I'm just getting a cloth to wipe us with.' I
heard him leave the room and then the sound of running water, and he was
soon back with a wet cloth, which I felt being used to wipe my bum.

     He got back onto the bed and rolled me over towards him where he then
saw my tear stained face. He kissed me again and again asking if he had
hurt me, and I whispered back that he hadn't, the tears were of joy not
pain.

     `What's this?' he suddenly exclaimed, easing our bodies apart and
looking down at the mess between our stomachs. `Is this from you?' I nodded
through the tears and smiled. He smiled back and kissed me again. `The
first time?' I nodded again, a big smile of pleasure on my face. `Well we
can do it together from now on.'

     He eased me onto my back and slid down the bed and took my still erect
cock into his mouth and sucked on me. His tongue teasing and flicking it
about as he widened his mouth to take in my balls as well. He worked on me
for a few minutes before releasing me and moved his body round on the bed
so that we were head to toe for a moment.

     `Now this is how we can do it together,' and he moved again so that
our heads were level with each other's groin. I saw his head move and he
engulfed me again. In front of my face, lying on his thigh was his limp
penis, smaller than I'd ever seen it. I leaned my head forward and took his
flesh into my mouth.

     In this state, I could get more of it in and so I used my tongue the
same way as he was doing to me. My cock was still stiff as he sucked and
gently chewed on it, and I could feel his start to grow bigger and begin to
push my head back as it grew in my mouth.

     `Can you come again?' he called up, briefly taking his head off me. As
my head was still bobbing up and down on his shaft, he took this as a
yes. `Use your hand as well,' he said before taking me in again. So I was
now pumping my hand up and down in time to the movement of my head.

     I could feel the hot pressure building up again in my balls and then
the exquisite pain of release as I shot my load into his mouth. The cock in
my hand started a heavy throb as he began to come too, the stream jetting
out in short bursts, whereas mine seemed to be one solid current. I
swallowed his as best I could and nearly choked, as it's almost impossible
to suck and swallow at the same time.

     I called him my love as we lay in each other's arms after this, to me,
the most wonderful day of my life. Here I was, in the arms of my lover
after just having been loved by him. I didn't know then that the word fuck
was the usual term used for getting one's end away, or the using of a cock
in another person's body. To me at the time, it was love, and I had just
been loved good and proper.

     It was with some reluctance that I let him go from my embrace to get
dressed. I too then, got up and got dressed and we went downstairs for him
to make us some afternoon tea.

                                                           *

     It was a happy little girl, or boy, it didn't make any difference to
me now, that skipped down the path and across the lane and up into my own
house.

     `You seem pleased with yourself,' Aunt Ethel said as I entered the
parlour, humming to myself.

     `We had a wonderful tea,' I said, throwing myself down into an
armchair. `He said that I could go over anytime I wanted. I was very
pleasant company and enjoyed having me over there.' It took a moment for it
to register what I had just said, and I had to cover up my giggles in case
I was asked to explain them.

     `That's nice,' Aunt Agnes put in. `He gives a very good sermon on
Sunday's. He really knows how to get into your mind.'

     `And your body,' I muttered under my breath, but said out loud, `I
might even pop over there again tomorrow.'

     `That'll be nice,' said Aunt Agnes again.

     `I'm sure it will,' I said, the irony not being noticed.

                                                           *

     Now that I could come, as soon as I was in bed, I masturbated,
thinking of us together that afternoon. My thoughts had only got us as far
as the bed before I came into the tissues that I'd taken into bed with
me. I had to wait until morning to do it again, this time reliving the
pleasure of him entering me before erupting into the crumpled tissues
again. I couldn't wait for the afternoon.

                                                           *

     As soon as lunch was over, I was across the lane and knocking on the
vicarage door to be welcomed inside. As soon as the door was closed behind
me, I was in his arms, lifting my face up to be kissed.

     `Take me upstairs and make love to me,' I whispered in his ear.

     Without a word, he picked me up and carried me up to his room, and
with tenderness, undressed me and laid me down on the bed. His clothes were
soon off and he joined me naked on the bed and half lay across me, his
erection tight up against my thigh. Mine was sticking up like a flagpole,
and just as rigid.

     `Donald,' I said between kisses, `Donald. Make love to me again. And
again and again,' I giggled. He laughed and said, `As long as I'm capable,
but let's try it a different way.'

     `It still goes in the same place, doesn't it?' I giggled again.

     `Of course my little Fran,' he said.

     `Fran?' I queried.

     `My own little pet name for you my sweet,' he smiled. He then pulled
the pillows from under my head and with a big heave of my hips, placed them
beneath me. He readjusted them so that my back was arched downwards on the
bed with my hips up high. I liked the way he was so decisive and masterful,
and watched him dip his finger into the cream and I opened my legs and felt
it smeared in the crack of my bum.

     I could see my little cock pointing towards my stomach as the bed
moved. I looked up to see him on his knees between my legs, his erection
swaying slightly but sticking out proudly from his body. He shuffled
forward a little bit between my open legs making the bed bounce as he did
so.

     Then putting his arms under my legs and lifting them up, moved in
closer till I felt his body touch mine. With my legs high up at his
shoulders, he grasped my waist and pulled me onto him, his cock sliding
smoothly inside.

     The position was slightly uncomfortable, but as that glorious length
started to enter me, I eased my body a little so that he had a straight
entry, and it was heavenly. Feeling his shaft filling me was a most
wonderful experience that was just as good as the day before. That
throbbing flesh pulsating inside, filled me not only physically, but also
with a sense and feeling of love for the man between my legs. I loved it
and him!

     I could now see the pleasure on his face that I'm sure was mirrored by
my own as he started to move in and out of me. The feel of his flesh
rippling my insides as he moved, causing all kinds of nerve ends to tingle
and throb. My own little cock throbbed in time with the vibrating rod that
put me in mind of a piston sliding in and out of its casing as the pressure
built up inside the engine.

     Watching the joy on his face as his lower body moved against me,
filled my heart with love for the man as he made love to me. The smile on
his face was beatific, and the sun shining through the window made a
shimmering kind of halo round his head and I knew that this was heaven.

     I was enjoying the gentle slap of his balls against me as he moved in
and out, the movements sending rippling waves of heat throughout my
body. Then his hand came round and took hold of my erection and started to
move up and down in time to his thrusting.

     `Yes, yes, yes,' was all I could say as I felt the tension mount in my
balls. His hand moved faster, jerking my cock up and down until I started
to spurt out all over my chest. He held onto it until I'd finished coming
before he let go to grasp my hips tight as he pulled me tight up against
him. He shuddered and his cock was a throbbing hot coal inside me, jerking
away as I knew he was spending his load deep within me.

     I used my sphincter muscle to squeeze him as hard as I could, trying
to slow him down as he moved a few more times in and out, knowing that any
moment he would be pulling out completely.

     I gave a whimper that was more of a cry as he withdrew from me,
leaving that same ache that I had felt the day before. He touched his
finger to his lips and made a kiss, which he transferred to mine as he left
the bed.

     I heard the running water again in the bathroom, and a few minutes
later, he was back with a cloth and wiped my backside. Then he wiped the
mess of my own coming from my chest before throwing the cloth aside and
climbed back onto the bed with me.

     `How was that my little Fran?'

     `Wonderful Donald, so wonderful,' I breathed. He cuddled me to him and
I nestled into his arms, feeling so comfortable being there, held tight,
safe and secure.

     Some people will say that I was a child being abused, molested by an
older man. But to me it wasn't that way at all. It may have been his
intention to seduce and take me for his own ends, but it was me that
demanded the ultimate act. It was I who eventually was the seducer and kept
on demanding more and more from this man.

     I think I wanted the sex more than he did. The more I had of him, the
more I loved him, and he came to really love me. There wasn't any
maltreatment of any kind and he never harmed me in any way. I think it was
I who caused him more harm than good in the long run.

                                                           *

     Our relationship deepened over the year and we had sex as often as we
could. One position that we both liked was after we played around naked on
the bed until we both had an erection. I would get the cream and apply it
to myself before getting astride his supine body.

     Then facing him, I would squat, holding his erect cock upright and
placing it where I'd put the cream, would sink down onto him. This way I
got the deepest penetration from him that made my heart leap as I slid down
his pole that was filling me up inside. Being on my knees, I would then
rise up and down on his shaft, savouring every inch of him that was inside.

     Then I would masturbate until I came in a great shower across his
chest, which I would then rub in while he would attempt to smear it up onto
my chest. After cleaning his cock and my bum, we would then lick each
other's chest until we were clean.

                                                           *

     Then one day, Donald was down between my legs giving me head when he
suddenly shot upright. `I don't believe it!' he exclaimed, giving out a
little shout. This caused me to rise up on my elbows to look down at him.

     `What's up, apart from my dick?' I asked.

     `You've finally got some hairs appearing!' I couldn't see them, being
a natural blond, but by putting my hand down there, I could distinctly feel
a very light fuzz near the top of my cock.

     `You've done it,' Donald said, his eyes alight with an excitement on
my behalf. `You've now reached the age of puberty and are almost a grown
m...er, adult.'

     I gave out a laugh and opened my arms to him, and we hugged each
other, our cocks clashing as we tried to mingle our pubic hairs
together. He stopped the laughing and kissing as he took on an expression
of seriousness.

     `I think it's time now Fran for you to do your part, now that you are
grown up.'

     `What's that?' I queried.

     `I want...I want you to make love to me,' his voice only just above a
whisper. I think my eyes went quite wide as I looked at him, for he began
to laugh at my expression. He kissed me and looked into those wide eyes of
mine with the question posed in his. I nodded and then fiercely kissed him
back whilst holding him ever so tight to me.

     He rolled off the bed and I heard him go into the bathroom. He came
back a few minutes later carrying a bowl of hot water, some flannels and
towels over his arm. He placed the bowl on the dresser with the rest
alongside.

     `That's for you to wash yourself afterwards. That's very important
that you do this after every time.' I nodded my understanding as he got
onto the bed and rolled onto his stomach. My cock was throbbing with the
expectancy of using it properly for the first time, and it bounced about as
I got up onto my knees.

     The cream pot was already open for me to take a small blob on my
finger as Donald rose up onto his own knees. I placed this blob of cream at
the crack of his bum, and I didn't need any guidance as to what to do
next. With one hand on his hip, I used the other to guide the tip of my
erection to the middle of the cream blob. I nestled my throbbing cock head
against his bum and pushed forward and was surprised at how easily I slid
into him. He gave a small grunt and pushed back slightly towards me until I
was fully inside.

     `That feels great,' came his muffled voice, and it felt really great
to me too. With both hands on his hips and my thighs pressed up tight to
the cheeks of his bum, my cock positively vibrated within him. I then
started the in and out movement, feeling his tightness surround and squeeze
my short shaft as I made love to him.

     Faster and faster I went, banging hard as our bodies smacked against
each other, till, with a little whoop of joy, I started to come. Holding
him tight, I shuddered and jerked as I could feel the sperm erupting out of
me and into him, and I loved every minute of it.

     He then slowly let his body fall forward, pulling me down on top,
still with my cock inside, and I could feel his sphincter muscle squeezing
and squeezing me as I kept pushing up into him. We then stopped and lay
like this for a few minutes before he made grunts that told me it was time
to pull out. I came out of him with a slight sucking sound and he gave a
groan as I did so.

     I then used a flannel, wet from the bowl, and washed my creamy cock
with it, drying it on a towel afterward before getting back onto the
bed. He'd already wiped his rear end before rolling over onto his back, his
face alight with the biggest smile I'd yet seen on his face.

     `It's been a long time since anybody has loved me,' he said, his voice
a little husky, `but that was worth waiting for.' I smiled and kissed him
and slid down the bed and took him into my mouth. He groaned with pleasure
as I sucked and chewed on the fiery head of his cock, and swallowed with
delight when he eventually came. From then on, we made love to each other
on a fairly regular basis.

                                                           *

       It was about this time that my voice broke, and it was like a
catastrophe to me. I thought that was the end of my singing, but Aunt Agnes
assured me that it was only a sign of my growing up, and that I would still
be able to sing but in a different key, and so it was. A few months later I
was singing again in a lower key and with a bit more timbre in my voice and
slightly more husky. Donald thought I still sang like a girl, but said it
sounded much sexier.

                                                           *

       I was now thirteen and a half years old, and a little bit taller,
not much, when somebody came that was to shape my future somewhat. Donald
and I had just finished making love and were downstairs having tea when a
knock came at the door. We both looked at each other in surprise, because
visitors were a rare commodity, like some types of food at this time, it
now being May of 1944.

     Donald went to the door, and I being curious, followed him. He opened
it to find a man standing there in uniform with a big smile on his face.

     `Donald!' he exclaimed, his mouth widening into a broad smile that
showed his lovely white teeth.

     `Rupert!' shouted out Donald and held open his arms into which the
other man went, and they embraced, hugging and slapping each other on the
back. `Rupert. What a surprise! Come in come in my dear fellow. Where did
you spring from? What are you doing here? You should have let me know you
were coming.' Words and questions were bubbling out of Donald as he ushered
Rupert into the house.

     `One question at a time if you please,' he laughed, and then turned a
quizzical eye towards me, his smile staying on his face.

     `Oh I beg your pardon. Rupert, this is Francis Lyon who...who lives
across the lane,' I bobbed a little curtsey to him. `and Francis, this is
the Honourable Rupert Haig-Wilton.'

     He gave his head a small bow and offered me his hand, which I shook.

     `Now that we've been introduced, let's go into the parlour. There's
still more tea in the pot.' Rupert sat down and Donald fussed about,
pouring the tea and offering some little cakes that we had left on a
plate. `Well,' said Donald, finally sitting down. `What have you been up
to? I can see that you're in the army, what gives?' Donald turned to me,
`Rupert and I used to be roommates together at school and then shared
another room at the seminary.'

     `Yes,' Rupert laughed, `I'm a chaplain in the army,' and he pointed to
the little cross in his lapel, `in the...oh, I can't really tell you. You
know, walls have ears and all that sort of rot.'

     `I'd wondered where you'd got to,' interrupted Donald. `How did you
know I was here, and how long can you stay? You are going to stay, aren't
you?' There was a small catch of anxiety in his voice at the last question.

     `Well to the second question, I've got five days leave, and yes, I
would be honoured if you let me stay here.' This brought a big smile to
Donald's face, giving me a twinge, which I knew to be jealousy.

     `As to the first question, I happened to get hold of an old clerical
magazine, and your name was in there saying that you had been given this
parish. I checked and found you were still here. So I said to myself,
what's the point of going up north to waste my leave before going overseas,
oh! I shouldn't have said that. Forget that I said I was going overseas
soon, oh. I've done it again.' He looked a bit flustered, but carried
on. `Let's go and see my old roommate, I said to myself, so here I am.'

     `Splendid old chap, splendid. I say, I've just had a cracking good
idea. Let's have a picnic lunch on the lawn tomorrow, the three of us. I
know it's only just the beginning of summer, but the weather is
exceptionally good at the moment. Then on Sunday, I would like you to give
the sermon. How's that?'

     `I like the idea of a picnic, but I'm not too sure about giving a
sermon. I wouldn't know what to say, being a stranger here.'

     `Nonsense!' Donald said emphatically. `You can give them, though not
very many I'm afraid, a rousing bit about what our boys are doing to keep
this part of England safe from the Huns.'

     `Well...I suppose I could.'

     `Splendid! Tomorrow the picnic and Sunday the sermon,' Donald cried.

     I rose from the table and turned to Donald, with a low voice, `I think
I'd better be going home now.'

     `Oh I'm sorry Fran, neglecting you like this.'

     `No that's alright. You must have lots to catch up with your
friend. I'd better be off now. It's been a pleasure to meet you sir,' I
said, offering my hand to Rupert who had also risen from his chair and
solemnly shook it.

     `The pleasure was all mine I assure you Miss Lyon.'

     I couldn't help but flash a wicked smile at Donald at this, and had
the pleasure of seeing him blush as he stammered out his goodbye and saying
that he would look forward to seeing me at eleven next morning, when we
would all go up to the shop to forage for the picnic.

     I heard Rupert say, just before I closed the front door behind me,
`What a sweet and charming creature she is.' It was with a happy heart that
I tripped over the lane to tell my aunts about the next day's picnic. Aunt
Ethel was most enthusiastic about it, and instantly went off to the kitchen
to make up some dough to bake us a loaf of bread for it.

                                                           *

     With this freshly baked loaf, all wrapped up in tissue paper, I was
knocking on the vicarage door at exactly eleven o'clock the next
morning. Donald opened the door and I went in.

     `What's that heavenly smell,' I heard Rupert call out. `If it's what I
think it is, I'd be most overjoyed. We haven't had any decent bread since
this war started.'

     `You're quite right,' Donald called back, taking the loaf out of my
hands and giving me a quick kiss. `It's an angel we have here,' he
continued, ushering me into the parlour. I was wearing my very best dress
for the day's picnic.

     `My, doesn't sh...er, Francis look a picture,' Rupert said getting up
from the settee. `That dress is positively stunning, if you don't mind me
saying.' I gave him a little curtsey.

     `Thank you kind sir,' I said.

     `Oh please call me Rupert and stop this sir business. I get enough of
that in the army.'

     `Are we ready to go shopping then?' Donald queried, `because I think
we should have our picnic early before the afternoon chill sets in.'

      So off we trooped up the lane, both men either side of me with my
arms linked in with theirs. Into the shop on the corner we went to be
greeted by old Mrs Stokes.

     `Hello vicar, sir, Francis, and how are things down at the den? I
haven't seen your aunts for a week now.'

     `The den?' I asked of her.

     `Yes, the den. Haven't you heard it been called that?' I shook my
head, my hair swirling about my face. `It's been called the den ever since
your Grandfather's time. Old Mr Lyon! Get it? The lion's den! Your ma and
pa, God bless their souls, tried to change it to the "Lair", but it stayed
as the "Den".' She gave out a little cackle and a triumphant smile on her
face at being able to pass on a little bit of local folk lore.

     `Oh I see, and I do thank you Mrs Stokes. It's nice that my people are
remembered by you all in such a nice way.' I saw, out of the corner of my
eye, Donald give Rupert a nudge, a knowing smile on his face.

     `Think nothing of it dear, and I must say that you have turned out
just as lovely as your mother. She always wore such pretty dresses and
frocks too.' I had to turn away to hide my smile and could see that Donald
was having difficulty in keeping a straight face. I couldn't see if Rupert
knew, because he had his back to me at that point. `Well what can I be
getting you?' Mrs Stokes asked of Donald.

     `We are going to have a picnic today Mrs Stokes, and we would like
your advice as to what, and how much, three hungry people could eat.'

     With Donald talking to Mrs Stokes, being acquainted with the meagre
supplies the shop had to offer because of rationing, I went over to Rupert,
his shoulders were moving up and down. I thought he had the hiccups, but
found he was merely suppressing his laughter. I took hold of his hand and
he turned to face me, the laughter now gone.

     `Donald has told you,' I said with my voice low so that only he could
hear, and I said it with such conviction that all he could do was nod. `I
suppose that you and he were lovers before he came here?' Again he nodded.

     `My dear Fran, Francis. It was a long time ago.'

     `Did...did you, last night...No, forget that. I don't want to
know. Well at least until after the picnic. I don't want to spoil my first
grown up picnic, now do I?' I was fighting back the tears because I
instinctively knew that he and Donald had made love the night
before. Rupert gave my hand a squeeze and I knew that he knew that I knew,
and was grateful that he understood.

     With our purchases made, we left the shop and went back down the lane
to the vicarage. The two men were like schoolboys as they made the
preparations for the picnic. They wouldn't let me do anything except lay
out the tablecloth on the lawn. The sun was shining, but not with a great
deal of warmth, and our spirits were high enough so we didn't notice the
coolness of the day. Many plates were then laid out with small snacks on
them, the bread cut and buttered, and there were two bottles of wine,
chilled.

     It was a great success. I was even allowed to have a glass of that
wine. My aunts had come out of our house to wave at us as we sat on the
lawn, and we waved back with plenty of smiles.

     We were lucky to have started early, because by the time we had
finished, the sun had gone in and dark clouds quickly came over and it
started to rain. We managed to get everything inside before it actually
fell. Donald lit a fire in the parlour and it was soon nice and warm in
there.

     I had been upstairs to the toilet and it was obvious when I returned
to the parlour, that they had been talking about me. Rupert was sitting on
the settee, and Donald was in the armchair. He beckoned me over and patted
his knee. I went over and sat down on his lap, putting one arm round his
neck.

     `I gather you know that Rupert and I were lovers in the past?' I
nodded, but didn't speak. `We went to the same school as boys and later,
went to the same seminary where we shared the same room. We were both
attracted to one another and we became lovers. When we were ordained, we
parted. Parted as friends. I came here and Rupert went into the army. We
haven't seen, nor had contact in all those years until yesterday.'

     `But you still made love to each other last night,' I stated, trying
to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

     `And I still love you Fran. If we were to part now, and then meet
again in a few years time, I would still love you. Even if you had taken on
some lovers. We would still have the same love as if there had been no time
gap. Love is for sharing, to share what you have. There are many ways of
sharing love, whether it be physical or not. I will always love you as I do
Rupert. You will understand this better as you get older. Then you can look
back and you will cherish all those that you have loved and those that had
loved you.' I gave him a kiss on the cheek for his little sermon.

     `I forgive you,' I said, flouncing out the hem of my dress so that it
covered his hand, making it an invitation to feel me, which he did. His
hand moved up and held my erection beneath the cloth.

     `And, if I am given to understand what you've just said, and reading
between the lines, is that any friend of yours should be a friend of
mine. Or to put it more bluntly, we too should become lovers?' I smiled
sweetly at him to take some of the bite out of my words. He squirmed a bit
under me and his hand squeezed my throbbing cock.

     `Well, I didn't say or ask that in so many words,' he stammered, his
hand gently moving my foreskin up and down.

     `What do you say Rupert?' He too, then started to squirm on the
settee, his face going a little pinkish from the neck upwards.

     `Well, er, mmm, er,' was all he could stammer out. I rose up from
Donald's lap and crossed the short space between us and sat down on his
lap, putting my arm round his shoulder as I had done to Donald. I could
feel that he had a hard on and that I was squashing him.

     `Would you like to make love to me,' I whispered in his pink ear. As I
was speaking, I had taken his hand and put it up under my dress. His hand
was hot as he felt my erection and found that it was hard and as hot as he
was.

     `Er, Fran, er Francis,' and I could see the pleading glance he threw
across at Donald, but didn't catch his response, but guessed when Rupert
continued. `Er, well, er yes, I would be honoured to,' he finished,
beginning to rub me with his hand. I tilted his head toward me and kissed
him on the lips.

     I could then see Donald out of the corner of my eye, squirming again
in his chair. I used my tongue upon Rupert as I felt his face get hotter,
and could feel his member throbbing beneath me. I broke off the kiss and
stood up between them.

     `Gentlemen, shall we then repair upstairs and' I paused, `and make
love?' I held out my hand to Rupert, inwardly trembling at the thought of
taking on a new lover in front of Donald, but then I remembered that he was
his as well. Rupert's hand, I felt, was trembling as he took mine and
heaved himself out from the settee. Only when he was standing up next to me
did I extend the other hand to Donald. His face was flushed and also seemed
to have difficulty in standing up.

     We went upstairs where Donald got a bowl of water and some cloth's
that we would need, and I sat down on the bed looking at them. I wasn't
going to be the first one to disrobe. They got the message and both quickly
undressed and then stood naked before me, their erections sticking out in
front of them. I saw that Rupert was slightly longer and thicker than
Donald's was, but not by much.

     After my quick inspection, I extended my legs to which they both took
off a shoe and a sock, carefully putting the sock into the shoe before
putting them down. I then stood up and raised my arms so that they could
lift up and pull the dress over my head. I had stopped wearing knickers
ever since I'd started making love to Donald.

     With me as naked as they were, I got onto the bed and they joined me,
one either side. It was with a gurgle that I grasped both of their
erections and jerked them up and down at the same time. The gurgle turned
into a laugh and they both joined in.

     `This is like a picnic too,' I said. `You're both slices of bread and
I'm the meat in the sandwich.' This set them off into fits of laughter, and
it wasn't till I recalled this scene a few years later that I realised what
a joke I had made, but at the time, didn't understand that it was just
that.

     When they'd finished laughing, I gave them both a kiss and moved down
the bed. I took Donald into my mouth first, giving him a suck and a tease
with my tongue before turning to Rupert.

     As I said, he was slightly longer and a bit more hefty and I held it
upright, examining it first before suddenly swooping down on it. The
sweetness of his love juice was the first thing I tasted, and it was
delicious. Then I sucked on his knob, squeezing him lower down the shaft to
make it swell up even more, and teased his the same way, though squeezing
the head to make the eye open before tickling it with the tip of my
tongue. He gave out a groan as I played with him

     `Donald first,' I said, letting go of Rupert's prick and getting up
onto my knees. We worked liked a well oiled machine now, Donald and I, so
it was only a few moments before I felt that lovely cock slide up into
me. Stiff and hard as usual, even though he'd had me the day before and
Rupert last night, it was still a pleasure to have that cock slide in and
out of me, lighting up every nerve and exciting me immeasurably.

     I could tell now when he was about to come, his cock swelling up that
bit more and it seemed to give out a special pulse. I used my muscle to
grip and squeeze as he came with his usual force within me. I still
whimpered at his withdrawal.

     Now for Rupert, my new lover. The different hand on my hip felt
strange, but not the probing feel of a cock head at my rear. Then he
entered me and I felt a sharp pain as the head widened me more so than
Donald, but it quickly passed as he fully penetrated, filling me
completely. Donald had washed and dried himself and had lain down across
the bed in front of me and I gave out a groan of pleasure at the new
sensations that a different cock was giving me.

     I might have dribbled if I hadn't had pulled Donald toward me and
promptly took him into my mouth. Now I was full, filled from both ends with
lovely big cocks. I wiggled my bum and sucked as hard as I could, enough to
make even Donald squirm. Then he came, I came and so did Rupert. It was
only my sperm that messed up the bed as I'd kept the other two emissions
inside me.

     The three of us kissed and cuddled up afterwards, but a chill was
being felt in the bedroom, so we didn't play with each other too long
before getting dressed and going down to the warm parlour. Donald sat down
on the settee, and much to his chagrin, I sat down in the armchair, leaving
Rupert to sit down next to Donald.

     `I must thank you Francis, or may I call you Fran?' Rupert began.

     `You may call me Fran. All my lovers call me by that name,' I said as
I gave Donald a sweet smile.

     `So thank you Fran for a pleasant after picnic dessert.'

     `On the contrary. It is I who should be thanking you for having me,' a
dramatic pause, `and after the picnic too,' I finished.

     `Bravo,' Rupert clapped, `a beautiful double entendre, and you Donald,
have found a most beautiful treasure.'

     `Thank you Rupert. Fran is very special to me. Fran, do come and sit
here with us please, there's plenty of room.' He moved to one side while
Rupert moved the opposite way to make space between them. I smiled at them
both and got up, as there was no point in acting like a silly girl, and sat
down between them. I had to laugh as they tangled their arms trying to put
them round my shoulders.

     `Rupert,' I said when I was sitting comfortably, `why did you join the
army?'

     `Well it stems from the last war, you know, 1914 to 18. I was born the
fourth son of Lord Haig-Wilton.'

     `Oh my lord!' I whispered aside to Donald, `I've been had by a Lord.'
This broke them up into laughter.

     `No, no Fran. I'm not a Lord, but my elder brother will be. You see,
the two eldest went off to war and got themselves killed. My father didn't
want to lose any more sons in this war, so he made sure that my brother
wouldn't be called upon. I was already in the Ministry, but with me not
having any aspirations to the title, decided to join up as a chaplain. Thus
I was fulfilling our obligation to our country and seeing to men's souls at
the same time. What about you Fran? What are you going to do when you get
older?'

     `Well certainly not into the church,' and they both laughed.

     `No seriously Fran. You're, what, thirteen, fourteen now?'

      `Thirteen and a half,' I replied.

     `Well in four and a half years time you'll have to do your National
Service, and if this war is still going on, God forbid, you might even have
to go and fight.'

     `No way! I'm not going to be a soldier. I don't think that I could
shoot a man, no matter who or what he is.'

     `The Royal Air Force then. Fly a plane and be a fighter or bomber
pilot.'

     `Most certainly not!' I said, tears coming to my eyes.

     `His mother and father were killed in a plane crash,' Donald said
softly across me to Rupert.

     `Oh I'm so sorry. Please forgive my insensitivity,' Rupert said very
contritely.

     `That's all right. It was a long time ago and you were not to know,' I
replied.

     `Well that leaves the Royal Navy then.'

     `I don't fancy that either,' I answered.

     `There's the Merchant navy as an alternative,' put in Donald.

     `Now there's an idea,' said Rupert. `They're not as rigid in
discipline and rules as all the others are, and it's quite cushy in peace
time, though a lot of the ships have been sunk so far in the war.'

     `Well it's not going to last forever. It will probably be over before
he has to decide,' Donald said.

     `When we make our landings...oh, I shouldn't have said that,' Rupert
said with a look of dismay on his face. `Oh, what the... Well that's why
I'm on leave now. We'll be invading France very soon now. The preparations
and the build up are progressing quite fast now. So I don't think this war
is going to last much longer.'

     `So it looks like it's the Merchant navy for you my...er, Francis,'
Donald said, giving my knee a gentle tap. `Let's have some tea now, shall
we?'

                                                           *

     I went home after tea and told my aunts what a wonderful picnic we'd
had, and that it was a pity it had rained, but it didn't stop us from
having afters, tongue in cheek. They were pleased for me.

                                                           *

     Rupert gave a wonderful sermon the next day, and I had never sung
better in the choir. There were quite a few more people in the congregation
than normal, Donald having spoken to Mrs Stokes, asking her to encourage
her customers to attend for this special service. A lot of them,
afterwards, voiced their appreciation to Rupert and Donald for a very
moving service.

     After the evening service, I couldn't stay in the vestry with Donald
for our usual kiss and cuddle. We no longer had sex in there as there was
always the chance that somebody could walk in, but only have a quick kiss
and grope that we could get away with.

                                                           *

     I was quite surprised on the Tuesday morning when Rupert came into the
classroom while I was practising my dancing exercises. I stopped suddenly
at his appearance.

     `Please don't stop on my account,' he said, `please finish the piece
you were doing. I would so like to watch.' So Aunt Agnes carried on for me
to finish.

     `Wonderful,' Rupert cried out as he clapped. I did a deep curtsey to
him. `And to you Madame,' he addressed my aunt. `I've never heard that
piece played with such delicate finesse. It was beautiful.' This made my
aunt simper as she fussed with the score.

     `Aunt Agnes, may I present the right Honourable Rupert
Haig-Wilton. Sir, my Aunt Agnes.' He gave a bow whilst Aunt Agnes bowed her
head but remained seated as they shook hands.

     `I was there and listened to your sermon on Sunday and was much moved
by it.'

     `My thanks ma-am. I wish I could do more, but regrettably, I must
leave tomorrow to rejoin my unit. So I would be greatly honoured if my
friend Donald and I could have Francis for lunch and also dinner for this,
my last night here?'

     I was standing behind him and liked the choice of words. Having me for
lunch and dinner. Would we be doing it on the table? I had to suppress a
laugh as I began nodding my head towards my aunt.

     `I thank you and I'm sure that Francis would be delighted,' she
replied. `Francis?'

     `I would be most pleased to accept the offer to dine with such an
officer of His Majesty's Army. He had such penetrating ideas on Saturday
after the picnic, and I would like the chance to get my point across.' I
gave him a sweet smile and he bowed back with an ironic smile.

     `Well said young lady,' he replied. `I will wait for you to change,
and then escort you across the lane. I'm sure your Aunt Agnes,' he bowed as
he turned towards her, `would be most gracious as to play that piece
again. It makes a delightful change to the cacophony of field guns.'

     Aunt Agnes actually simpered as she nodded for me to leave the room as
she turned to the piano. I gave Rupert a smile and quickly ran upstairs to
get ready. As I put on a lovely party frock, minus knickers, I silently
thanked my aunts for giving me the English to answer Rupert in the same
vein, and for how to act the part of a lady of breeding.

     I waited in the parlour until Aunt Agnes had finished the piece of
music before entering the classroom to hear Rupert again applauding my
aunt's effort. As I entered, he turned and took one step back, having an
amazed look on his face, but had the grace to give me a wink that couldn't
be seen by my aunt.

     `Enchanting! So delightful and refreshing.' He made a leg and gave me
a deep bow. I hid the smile as best I could without a fan, and curtsied
deep in response. He offered me his arm, which I took with my hand, and he
turned to Aunt Agnes. `With your permission ma-am, we'll withdraw now.' She
bowed her head and gave us both a smile, but then spoilt it.

     `Don't forget to be home by ten Francis.'

     `No Aunt Agnes,' I replied, leaving the room with Rupert.

     `You cheeky so and so,' I hissed at him as we went down the path.

     `So were you with that little speech, you minx,' he replied, giving my
hand a squeeze. We had to wait until we were inside Donald's house before
we let rip and laughed our heads off. It took several minutes before we
could tell Donald what had been said.

     `You were wonderful Rupert,' I said, swinging round so that my dress
flared out in a big swirl before I reached up and kissed him. `And one for
you too,' I said as I turned and gave Donald a big kiss. `If you rascal's
planned this, I'm glad,' I laughed, `but I know what I'd rather eat for
lunch.'

     Leaving the remark in the air for them to work out, which they did,
and we spent the whole afternoon in bed. Donald had lit a fire in the
bedroom grate, so we were kept warm after our exertions at loving and
servicing each other. I came four times during that afternoon and evening.

     The first was with Rupert on his back, hips up high for me to enter
him and then for Donald to enter me so that we were all joined up at
once. Then later it was Rupert behind me, his tool creating havoc to my
insides while Donald sucked on my erection till I came at the same time as
Rupert did.

     With them both exhausted, they managed to coax me up again and so I
made love to Donald. It was starting to get close to dinner time before
they were back up to strength to each take their turn behind me and give a
good loving session that helped my reviving cock to make the last effort to
come inside Rupert.

     It was a satiated sexual trio that floundered on the bed, but still
able to kiss and caress each other. I gave more of my kisses to Rupert than
Donald, as he was the one that would be leaving the next day, and I wanted
him to have something to remember me by from this leave. I also understood
what Donald meant when Rupert first arrived, that once you have loved
somebody, you could continue to love them for a long time afterwards.

     It was more of a scratch meal than a proper dinner because we were too
tired to make any serious effort at preparing anything, besides, I had to
be home by ten. It was a poignant parting I had with Rupert as we both
kissed and cried at the same time, and promised that that we would never
forget each other.

     It took nearly ten minutes before I was able to leave them and cross
over to my own home. I said to my aunts, to excuse my red eyes, that I was
sorry that Rupert, as a soldier, had to go away to where he might be
killed. That was telling the truth and it was accepted as that by my aunts
as they comforted me.

                                                           *

     It was in July, during a Sunday sermon that Donald tearfully told us
of the chaplain that had visited us earlier that year, had been killed
during the landings of the Allied forces on the beaches of Normandy.

     The last thing I saw, was the tears pouring down Donald's face before
I couldn't see any more from the tears that flooded my own eyes. I fled the
church crying my heart out, and was still crying, lying there in the
churchyard when the service was over, and my aunts picked me up and took me
home.

     I didn't attend that evening's service, nor that of Wednesday I was so
miserable, thinking of that fine man destroyed on a foreign beach. A man
who only went to war to help other poor souls in distress.

     It was Friday before I could talk to my aunts about Rupert. Not the
sex side of him obviously, but that he had been a close school friend of
Donald's and of how he must be feeling. I said that I had to go over to see
how he was coping with the news that he shattered us with on Sunday.

     My aunts clucked their sympathy, such a fine gentleman and preacher
etc. So I was allowed to go over to also convey their sympathy along with
mine. It was a hollow eyed Donald who opened the door to me and silently
let me in. In the parlour, we stood facing each other before we both burst
into tears and clung to each other for comfort. This was the catharsis that
Donald needed. He'd been bottling it all up since he'd been told the news
of Rupert's death, and me being with him, helped him to let it go.

     We cried and comforted each other all afternoon, without sex. Just the
common bond that we'd both lost a person we had loved very dearly, even
though my time had been shorter than his, it was just as painful. I didn't
think I had that many tears inside me, but they eventually dried up and it
was the love that we had between us that pulled us up from the pit of
despair. We kissed and cuddled till night fell, and then I had to leave
him, but he said he was feeling much better now, and how grateful that I
had come across to help him.

                                                           *

     Time passed, and that is a great healer. Donald came out of his
despondency and was soon back to his old self. Our love had mellowed and
instead of wham bam thank you ma-am, we took our time in our love making,
and made it better in the long run.

     The fact that he was twenty three years older than I was, made not the
slightest bit of difference to my way of thinking and acting. I loved him
and he loved me. I was now fourteen and had grown a little bit more in
height, but had grown much more in courage and awareness of other people.

     The allies were closing in on Berlin and the papers were saying that
the war would soon be over. This would mean that I wouldn't have to go out
and fight for my country, but it still turned my mind back to when Donald
and Rupert had spoken of what I should do when I grew up.

     It was Donald who got all the necessary papers regarding me going into
the Merchant navy. The first thing was that I had to be at least fifteen
years of age. He also found out that to avoid conscription, I would have be
in for at least seven years as opposed to two years army. The navy still
sounded the better option, and at least I would get to see some of the
world.

     Also I would have a choice of whether to go for the deck department or
catering. As I was well educated and spoke fluent French now and by being
inside, I wouldn't have to face the raging elements by being a deckhand.

     So after discussing the options, the catering side came out as being
the best. But it was all very well us talking and deciding what I should
do, it came down to the fact that my aunts were my guardians and they would
have the last say. They could sign the papers giving their permission, or
say no. It simply boiled down to that.

     Now my love, Donald took over. I know he didn't want to, because to
convince my aunts to sign the papers for me to join, I would then go away
and leave him. But that is the love that Donald had for me. I told him that
it wouldn't be forever. I would get leave every time the ship came home,
and then we could be together until it was time for me to return.

     The first thing he did was to convince my aunts that the way they had
raised me had been all wrong. Not in my education which couldn't be
faulted, but in my gender. He said that he'd known that I was a boy, and
not a girl for a long time, but had kept his own counsel on that point. But
he showed them the pitfalls that they had created, not only for themselves
but also for me more than anything.

     The turning point was when he told them how it would be when I was
eighteen and had to present myself for military service. Look at the mess I
would be in if turned up to join the army wearing a dress! It didn't bear
thinking about.

     They tried to argue that things should stay as they are and just not
go. But the counter to that was that if it ever came out, then it would
mean a prison sentence for avoiding conscription. It was a very difficult
session I had with my aunts, insisting that Donald be there.

     It was a painful afternoon and evening before they finally admitted
that they had made a mistake from the outset. Both of them finished up in
tears, but I told them that I still loved them and was very proud of the
way that they had devoted their later years of life to raising me when they
should have been resting in the twilight of their years. I also promised
that I would make them proud of me in the years to come.

     They signed the papers which were duly posted off. Donald also took it
upon himself, with my aunts' permission, to go into town and buy me some
clothes befitting a young man. But in deference to them, I continued to
wear the dresses, which I loved wearing, that they had made for me. The
entire village knew of me as a girl, so I said that we should keep it that
way.

     The war came to an end and at the top of the lane, a street party was
held, and I went to it as Francis, the girl from the "Den". Of the six men
who had gone off to war, four of them returned. Three from a prisoner of
war camp and one who'd gone through the whole thing and survived. In honour
of the two who had been killed, a plaque was put up in the church.

                                                           *

     Another year passed and Donald helped round out my education by
helping me with Biology and Science, the aunts being somewhat lacking in
these fields. But I had learnt all that they could teach me, which was as
good, if not better than many children of my age.

     Donald and I made love as often as we could during 1945, knowing that
I would be going away in the following year. We even went so far as to
sneak off into the woods a lot during that summer, to strip naked and chase
each other till caught and made love to out in the open air.

     That was the most glorious summer for me. I didn't know how much I
learnt of stalking a person in an open field until quite a few years later,
though sex wasn't at the end of it then.

     Being so far away from any other person, as I said, we would be naked,
and we would wrestle and have mock fights to see who would be the first to
make love to whom. Of course, he always won, but I made him really work for
the privilege. It was great to lay on the lush grass and smell the
sweetness of the earth as your lover proved his love once again by being
behind you, filling you, not only with his body, but his seed too.

     They were the heady and last delightful days of my childhood. Abused!
Never! I thoroughly enjoyed all what happened to me, and most of all, loved
it. I might have had the body of a man, but I was a woman at heart and
loved being loved in the only way that it was possible for me to be loved.

                                                           *

                                            To be continued.