Any characters portrayed in this story are fictional and not representative of anyone living or dead.

 

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Other stories on Nifty by J.T.S.Teller. Boys can be lovers, too.

 

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Jimmy the Love-Virus. 

 

By John T. S. Teller.  

 

Part eighteen.  

 

Despite the blinds being drawn, the room is almost bright when I wake. I'm tired, and have a slight hangover, and, normally, when I'm like this, I'd sleep an extra hour or two, but I understand why I've woken up: Jimmy's mouth is wide open, and he's snoring for the County. But my compensation is that it gives me a chance to study him at my leisure, so I turn over and face him. The sun has really caught him, and I make a mental note to make sure he plasters himself with sun cream, or, better still, I will. He's got extremely long, curled eyelashes, and they enhance the boyishness of his good looks. I can understand why a paedophile pederast would take a fancy to him when he was younger, because he's, plain and simple: sexy. No matter which way he swung, Jimmy would never go short of admirers, which brings me back to the previous night, and him sticking the nutt on Gorgeous George. You are a silly boy, Jimmy. You need to think first, and act afterwards. And then my thoughts wander to how I was when Jimmy came back. I really had allowed myself to sink into a pit of self-pity, and I need to start changing my habits if I'm to get through the hurt I'm feeling most of the time. Jimmy was right; the first thing I need to do is cut down on my drinking when he's not with me. It was a combination of alcohol, missing my dad, and thinking that I was spoiling Jimmy's life that caused the depression. Again, I'd seen a role reversal: Jimmy being the strong man, and me the subject of his ministrations of love and care that got me through a very difficult time, and I can't help but admire this wonderful young man who's come into my life.

Robert Spencer, you are a very lucky man to have him by your side, and, even more so that he chose you to be his lover. You, my beautiful, wonderful, loving, Social Housing dweller, James Turner, are an exceedingly good catch, and I need to reward you again. Yes, Jimmy, I know you had your wicked way with me last night, because my pubic hairs are matted, but I also know you well enough by now that you'll have sex anytime.

His tousled hair is like silk as I run my fingers through it, and then I stroke his face with the back of my fingers; circle each eye; explore the contours of his forehead and nose; caress his full lips with my forefinger, and then, because he has his upper leg pushed forward from his body, with an open hand, I follow the contours of his supple body down to the buttock that's exposed. A full hand, with searching fingers, caresses it; and the snoring stops as we begin our game. I need KY, and I lean back and get it from the bedside cupboard, and apply it liberally. Jimmy (still pretending to be asleep) moves over onto his front, and I search for the spot I know gives him his most exquisite pleasures, and I know I've hit home when I feel a slight shudder, and my fingers begin to play with his pleasure gland. He can't help it: he draws his knees under him, and parts his legs to allow me complete access, which also allows my other hand to fondle his swollen manhood, and I pleasure him exactly how he likes to be pleasured, and I do it gently and slowly to give him maximum gratification. All the while I'm doing it, my eyes never leave the beauty of his countenance, and when he opens wide his wondrous eyes and stares into my own with unadulterated love, and climaxes into my hand, and I bring it to my mouth, he watches as I consume his love: the ultimate demonstration of my own for him. And then we come together in a crushing, painful, and passionate kiss that leaves neither of us in any doubt what we mean to each other. When our kiss becomes gentler, Jimmy wants to reward me for what I've done for him, but I refuse. His pleasure was reward enough. A worried frown comes on his face, and I ask him what the problem is.

 

He strokes my hair. "When you'd gone to sleep, and after I had my way with you, I went and slept with Sam last night."

 

I smile at him. "Did you need to?"

 

He nods. "Yes. Do you mind?"

 

I pull his face to mine, and kiss him softly on his lips, and then I whisper, "No, of course not. I won't ever intrude on your `Sam time'." I give him an evil grin. "You should have brought him here to sleep with us, and we could have shared him."

 

Jimmy bites my nose gently, and then giggles. "I'm not sharing you with anybody. Not even Sam."

 

I giggle. "You're a selfish bastard, Turner!"

 

Jimmy kisses me, and grins. "I know I am. That's why you're going to fuck with me now, and I want every bit of you inside me, and I want it hard, and I want to feel your hot spunk spurting inside me... and I don't want any arguments, Spencer!"

 

I giggle again at Jimmy's dirty talk. "You're a sexy bastard, Turner! And I like it when you talk dirty."

 

Jimmy's eyes narrow both in amusement, and devilment, and he literally spits out the words, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! I want you to fuck me hard!"

 

So I do. I start by pushing him roughly onto his back and pulling his legs up. He grabs his ankles and pulls them back as far as they will go, lifting his bum well clear of the bed, and I can see his ready-greased rosebud waiting for me. Eccles has swollen to his full length, and I push it through the anal ring, and, without giving Jimmy time to relax to accommodate me, I thrust it swiftly into the depths of the beautiful creature below me, and I watch Jimmy's face grimace in pain as it powers its way through his sphincter. He grits his teeth and growls as he stares up into my face. I gather as much spittle as I can, and then dribble it onto his face. Jimmy opens his mouth wide, so I dribble my saliva into the eager orifice, and Jimmy swallows it eagerly, and he reminds me of a dog panting in anticipation of receiving a favourite morsel. My hands are resting on the pillows above his head, taking my weight, which allows me the freedom to grind my pelvis against his squashed buttocks, and he moans as I penetrate him as far as is possible. He releases his legs and wraps them tightly around my waist, and then reaches up to lock his arms around my neck, and his mouth crushes mine. He's now completely off the bed, hanging from me, and I begin to fuck him hard. He tightens the grip of his legs and arms, and sucks on my tongue until he's pulled it completely into his mouth, and he sucks on it as if he was sucking my cock, and we're both completely lost in the sensuality of the moment.

 

And then Jimmy breaks the kiss, and his head lolls back and to one side, revealing his neck. "Bite me Rob! Bite me!"

 

I don't need a second invitation, and I sink my teeth into softness of my lover, and as I do, I feel my climax beginning to build, and I lose it big style as I spurt everything I've got deep inside him at exactly the same time as Jimmy screams in pleasure as he shoots his own hot spunk onto me, and onto his own torso.

 

He's still locked onto me, and I'm still buried deep inside him as Jimmy plies me with long, slow kisses, that together with his semi-closed eyelids over glazed eyes, tells me that he's completely satisfied. And then, slowly, he lowers himself off me, and lies exhausted on the bed.

 

I stare into his eyes. "Was that hard enough for you?"

 

He moans a `yes', and smiles up at me. And then he gives out a half-snigger. "What's my neck like?"

 

I study the bruise. "You won't be able to hide it. Was it worth it?"

 

His shoulders shake with amusement. "Yes. It was our best fuck ever." He locks his now wide eyes onto mine, and I can see the amused gleam in them when he continues. "I don't want to hide it. I'm going to show the world what a sexy sod you are. If anybody says anything about it, I'll tell them that it's your fault."

 

Now we're both giggling. I lie back on the bed and look across at Jimmy. "I'll tell them that Sam did it while you were in bed with him."

 

Jimmy rolls on top of me, and we both begin to laugh. The laughter becomes hysterical, and I feel warm piss on my belly. But, strangely, and perversely, it doesn't bother me, and I'm disappointed when Jimmy grabs Willie and rushes off to the bathroom.

 

Later in the morning, when the boys are splashing about in the pool, I hear them almost screaming with laughter, and as we're eating breakfast, I notice that Sam has an almost identical love bite on his neck, too. I grin at him, and say, "So, Jimmy bit you, too, Sam."

 

The comment doesn't faze Sam one bit. He carries on eating, and when he clears his mouth, he replies, "He did. We had a great time, didn't we Jimmy? You should have joined us, Rob."

 

I laugh. Jimmy laughs. Sam laughs, and I know that Jimmy has told Sam that I would blame it on him, and now Sam is playing a game with me. Once again, Sam has managed to turn the tables on me, and, once again, I award him silent brownie points for his quick wittedness and devilish sense of humour. He's won, because for all I know, because I never venture into the Jimmy/Sam relationship, the love bite on Sam's neck could very well have been done by Jimmy. I'm pretty sure Jessica has done it to him, but I'm left in limbo because I'm not 100% certain.

 

------------

 

As soon as our guests arrive, little Bridie runs straight to Jimmy, who lifts her and crushes her in his arms, and they giggle and laugh as he dances and swings her around. This is certainly a match made in heaven, and I know that when the holiday is over, this affair will not end, and while this is going on, I also watch the faces of the others, and discover that Sam is a clever and thoughtful boy.

 

He's also been watching the others, and seen a slight jealousy in Lauren, the ten-year-old, and he goes to her and Jessica and thirteen-year-old Jordan. "Looks like Jimmy has pinched Bridie, but I've got two beautiful ladies to look after." He points a finger at Jordan. "And I've got to teach you how to improve your speed swimming. Anybody for a dip?"

 

We adults are all sitting on the patio under the shade, watching the youngsters in the pool when the first mention of Jimmy's indiscretion at the club is mentioned. It's Andrew, husband of G, who brings it up. "Watching him playing with Bridie, you would never imagine Jimmy is a tough little guy, would you. I hear that he and George had an altercation at the club last night."

 

I'm not sure how to react, and I just give an off the cuff reply. "Yes, he is a tough young man, and I'm sorry if he's caused you any problems. I've given him a piece of my mind about it."

 

"It's not a problem for us, Rob. They're not special friends of ours. I'm just amazed that he managed to dispose of a big strapping lad so easily. Does he often get into fights?"

 

"No. It's extremely rare. He's not a bully in any sense of the word, but he does come from a family who are renowned for being able to look after themselves. It's a side I very rarely see of him, but there was one instance that amazed me. He was playing cricket, and a really big guy bowled at him and hit him in the ribs with the ball. I would have dropped like a stone, but Jimmy just walked down the pitch, tapped the spot where the ball bounced, hit the guy for six, next ball, and then pointed a warning finger at him and told him not to do it again. He was a wise lad; he didn't do it again. As you say, looking at him now, you wouldn't think butter would melt in his mouth, and that's really the side of him that I know. Normally, he's a very caring and thoughtful young man who shies away from trouble. I think George might have taken liberties with him; something I never do. Is he alright?"

 

"Jessica said he was. Just a bloody nose, I think. She thought it was quite funny."

 

"Well, it wasn't. If he's to get on in life, Jimmy needs to think before he acts. He should have just walked away. He wants to be a writer. I told him this morning that he should consider being a journalist for Boxing Monthly."

 

That ends the matter of Jimmy vs. George, and we all laugh.

 

Seven-thirty, and the place is buzzing as we all pile into Antonio's. Jimmy, at my prompting (accepted with the proviso that I dress him slowly from his nakedness to finished product, which wasn't such a good idea, because both of us were sporting severe erections that took us giggling ages to stifle before we could venture out), is wearing the same stuff he first wore at The Crown, including the `Admit it. You know I'm sexy' t-shirt, and his gold belcher, and Big Ben Sherman. He looks like a million dollars, and with his hair gelled and spiked, and his tan, and his beautiful large eyes sparkling like blue diamonds, I know, straight or gay, that there won't be a sexier young man in the whole of the Algarve this evening. But he's not mine. Bridie was his hand-in-hand companion on the walk to the restaurant, and now, they're seated side by side, opposite, but not directly, from me, and I have to glance to my right to catch his eye whenever I feel the need for his love. The fact that it happens numerous times during the evening, tells me that Jimmy is thinking as I am; that the evening is good, but better things are to come later, when we're alone.  Sam and Jessica are in a world of their own, and I'm wondering how serious they are about the affair.

 

The evening goes well, and Jimmy hasn't head-butted anyone by the time we leave and stroll leisurely back to our respective villas. R has had a little too much to drink, and she goes on and on about how she loves Jimmy, and how she wishes he was her son, and how much she's going to miss him when we all go home, and how she's looking forward to Friday when we spend our last night together at Antonio's again. I'm proud of the way Jimmy's conducted himself throughout the evening, and I reflect that he's perfectly at home in any company, because he's neither loud nor shy. I'm even more proud when he drops back a little, with Bridie holding one hand, and he takes mine with the other. Some actions say more than a thousand words, and this one certainly does. And then a very strange thing happens. Young Jordan comes between Jimmy and I, and holds both our hands, and his grip is firm in mine, and I'm wondering if he's making a statement to his mother and father that he shares something Jimmy and I have in common. If he is, his parents don't seem bothered, and I'm certainly not going to reject him. Neither does Jimmy, and we walk like this, with the occasional and deliberate squeeze of my hand until the parting of the ways, and then, before he lets go, Jordan grips my hand tightly, and smiles at me. I smile back, and wink, and tell him that I'll see him on Friday. Sam and Jessica have long gone; they're taking a walk together, and will be `home later'.

 

It's just Jimmy and I in the villa. He's lying on the sofa propped up against me, and I have my arm around him. I was sorting the music when we got back, and Jimmy told me to play our song, and put it on repeat; so, Adele sings the beautiful song to us as we cuddle. Last night, this song drove me to despair, but now, it's soothing, and a great comfort. Jimmy takes the hand that is around him, and caresses his face with it. I lean over and kiss his neck. He turns up to me, and we kiss softly for a long moment, and then he smiles.

 

"Rob. I think someone else fancies you."

 

I know what he means. "The same thought has occurred to me. Jordan was brave to do what he did. He kept squeezing my hand as we were walking. I wanted to hug him, and tell him to be brave like my Jimmy. It's a pity he didn't give the signals earlier when we all first met. I could have directed him to you for some advice. It's probably a holiday crush, and he'll get over it in a few weeks."

 

"But what if it isn't?"

 

"Then the poor lad is in for some heartbreak. He's far too young for me."

 

"He's only three years younger than I am. You still don't get it, do you Rob?"

 

"What don't I get?"

 

"When I hit you with my gorgeous smile that you couldn't resist, how old did you think I was?"

 

"I wasn't sure. I suppose I thought you were younger than you are, because you are young looking."

 

"Exactly. So, if I'd been fourteen, would you have rejected all we have; and given that what we have is what we both want, would you have thrown it all away? And don't you think that would have been a stupid and wrong thing to do, if you did?"

 

"Probably, but it's against the law and..."

 

"Fuck the law! These are emotions we're talking about here, and not some twat who sits making laws on something they know nothing about. Every time I look at you, I want to fuck, and I know you feel the same. If I was fourteen, it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference. We'd still both want to fuck. So, why should Jordan be denied what he wants? I'm not saying he does, but it might be that he does."

 

"You're just being an argumentative little sod."

 

"No I'm not! I feel strongly about it. I was the one who wanted Chris, and he was killed because of it."

 

"No he wasn't. He was killed because he was a paedophile. There is a difference between Chris and me, you know."

 

"What is the difference? You both wanted to fuck a young boy. And Chris wasn't a paedophile; he was a lover of boys. In my book, a Paedo is someone who manipulates kids to have sex with them; lures them; abuses them without their consent; rapes them. Most lovers of boys wouldn't go within a mile of a kid if they weren't welcomed. Millions of them go all their lives and never touch a kid. There is a difference!"

 

"I know that. But I'm neither a lover of boys, nor a paedophile. Yes, you might have been only fourteen, but the reason I want you is because of something entirely different. I want to spend my life with you, and not abandon you when you lose your boyish looks. I love you because you're Jimmy Turner, and not because you look young. The fact that you look young is immaterial to me. Despite your young looks, the man who cared for me last night had no age. He was a wonderful person, who loved me deeply, and was hurt because I was hurt. I don't think for one moment that Chris could have felt as I do, even when you were both an item. If you were to become a paraplegic, and we couldn't make love ever again, I would spend every minute of my life caring for you. That's how I love you."

 

Jimmy gets up, and sits on my knees, and hugs me tightly. "And that's how I love you, too, but isn't Jordan entitled to feel that way? And what if you'd never met me, and had fallen in love with him exactly as you've fallen in love with me?"

 

"I suppose I'd have moved us to Spain where the age limit is thirteen, with his parent's consent, of course."

 

"And if his parents said you couldn't?"

 

"Then I'd have waited until he was sixteen. Now what?"

 

"Nothing. You've always got an answer for everything, smart arse. (Jimmy giggles.) I was fantasizing that we could have had a ménage à trois. I would have enjoyed watching you doing it to him while I was telling him what to do."

 

I shake my head. "You are one massive pervert, James Turner, and the worst thing about it is that you're turning me into one, too. Shall we ring Jordan and ask him if he fancies a quick fuck? By the way, talking about fucking, is Sam having it off with Jessica?"

 

Jimmy laughs, and tells me everything Sam told him about the fuck on the sand, and tears are rolling down our faces when he's finished. And then we go to bed and make love, and because Jimmy leaves me behind in the sexual fantasy revelation stakes, he openly tells me afterwards that Jordan played a part for him. I ask him how, and he tells me that he's been pretending he was Jordan all the while we were making love. I make him laugh when I say that I'm now a proper paedophile. And then the doorbell rings.

 

"I'm going to have a swim with Sam, Rob. You go to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."

 

"Give me a kiss first. (He does.) Right, don't piss in the pool, and don't mess with me when you come to bed. It took me ages to get you out of my pubic hairs this morning." And I fall to sleep with an unusually large grin on my face at the thought of tales of more arse prints in the sand, and the sure knowledge that I will have matted pubic hair in the morning.

 

Sam has a smug grin on his face throughout breakfast. I don't question him: Jimmy will give me the run-down later. Afterwards, we all spend some time in the pool, and then the phone rings. It's mum. I've spoken to her a number of times this week, and this call is the same; concern for one another. We spend half an hour chatting, and when I ring off, another call comes through. It's R, and she says they're all off to the Splash Park at eleven, and she wants to know if we'd like to meet them there. I accept, without asking Jimmy or Sam. It's a great place to have fun for all ages, with massive chutes and various other water amusements, and when I ring off and tell them both, they're enthusiastic about going.

 

It's a thirty-minute drive through Lagoa, and when we arrive at the splash park, and park up, R and G pull up alongside us in a hired people carrier. The thought had crossed my mind that because Jordan had done what he did when we were walking from Antonio's, maybe they would not have wanted to spend too much time with us. But no such thing, and because we're becoming more familiar, it's hugs, firm handshakes, and kisses now, and when we get in the place, Jimmy and Bridie, and Sam and Jessica, pair up, and are off to do their own thing. I've already decided how I will handle the `Jordan situation'. I'll neither encourage nor reject him. If he is like Jimmy and I, then who am I to ostracise him? But I have a suspicion that, despite Jimmy's perverted thoughts, holding and squeezing my hand was more a statement meant for his parents, than a great affection for me. I'm not sure I'm right when Jordan is clingy with me as we play, and I make sure my hands never touch him anywhere they shouldn't, but I can't stop his hands `inadvertently' straying sometimes. More than once, they wander to my thighs, and, on one occasion, he brushes my manhood. I'm absolutely sure I'm wrong about him making a statement when I detect his small erection as he pushes against me deliberately, and I know it's time to get out and make some space between us, so I retire to our poolside table. Thankfully, he stays in the water.

 

Jimmy comes to me with Bridie on his back, and grins. "You'd better watch it, Spencer! I'm getting jealous." Then he whispers in my ear. "Tell me tonight what you've been up to? I'll enjoy that."

 

Before I have a chance to answer, he's off, back into the water, and is laughing every time he looks at me. And then Jordan joins me. I'm hoping one of the other adults will join us, but they're having a great time, and are ignoring us completely. Damn!

 

Jordan looks into my eyes. "Rob, can I ask you a question?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Do you and Jimmy live together?"

 

"Yes."

 

"How long have you lived together?"

 

"Only a few weeks. Why do you ask?"

 

"I'm just curious. I just want to know more about you both. If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell my mum or dad?"

 

"No, I won't tell them anything. What is it you want to tell me?"

 

"I want to be a Jimmy. I am a Jimmy. Do you think I'm silly?"

 

"No, I don't. Do you think you're gay like Jimmy and I are?"

 

"I am, in the same way that Jimmy is. (I give him a questioning look, and he drops his head.) I like older boys and men. I like you and Jimmy. I think you're both dead sexy."

 

"Do your mum and dad know you're gay?"

 

"Yes. I told them last night."

 

"How did they react to that?"

 

"They said I'd grow out of it. But I know I won't. I need someone who understands me, without telling me I'm wrong."

 

"How long have you known that you were gay?"

 

"Only the last two years, really. I've been going out with a boy in year six for a while, but he's left now, and they've moved to Surrey."

 

"Have you had sex with him?"

 

"Yes. I don't love him or anything. We just had fun, sort of."

 

I smile. "What's `fun, sort of'?"

 

He grins. "I'm shy. I can't really tell you that."

 

"I understand. Let me put it this way. Did he do to you what you wanted him to do?"

 

"No. With him, it was always me doing what he wanted. But it was ok, because I got to touch his body, and then I had something to think about when I went to bed."

 

"Well, now, in that case, and going on the contact we've had in the pool today, will I be in your bed tonight? (He giggles, and shakes his head.) Oh, I've been rejected have I? It will be your former boyfriend, then?"

 

He's laughing now. "No, I'm going to pinch Jimmy off you. He's gorgeous."

 

I laugh with him, but he doesn't know what I'm laughing at. It seems as though there were shared fantasies last night. "Well, Jordan, at least I know you have good taste. Yes, he is gorgeous, but he's all mine, and I'm not going to share him, even with you."

 

After we've stopped laughing, Jordan becomes serious. "Rob... thank you for helping me. I've never had anyone I can talk to like this before. When we get back home, can I ring you up and talk to you if I need some advice?"

 

"No, you can't do that. I can't get involved, because I'm twice as old as you. (I wink.) Maybe Jimmy will, though."

 

Jordan smiles. "How much do you love Jimmy?"

 

"More than anything in the world, and, one day, someone will love you just as much, and having just had this talk with you, that person will be very lucky to have you."

 

"I hope it happens soon. Shall we go back in the water?"

 

I see Jimmy coming towards us. "Maybe you should have a chat with your fantasy lover, because he's on his way here now. Do you think you can have the same conversation with him that you've just had with me?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Well, I'll tell you what - you wait here, and I'll have a quick chat to him to tell him what we've been talking about, and he'll come to you. I'll pry Bridie away from him, and see how you go on. Ok?" He nods, and I intercept Jimmy and explain things as best I can, and then take Bridie with me onto a water chute. She's a proper bundle of fun, and because she likes the water slide, we have to do it a number of times. From the top, I can see Jimmy and Jordan talking. It seems to be going well, because they're both laughing.

 

When we're leaving, I have to refuse dinner this evening, making the excuse that this is a working holiday, and having spent half the day at the splash park, I desperately have to catch up on some work tonight. We've already arranged dinner at Antonio's for Friday night, and we'll see them then. Sam has his own arrangements, and isn't included in my plans. Jordan holds out a clenched fist, which I press with mine. "Stay cool, man." He nods, grins, and is gone.

 

After we've eaten a light dinner, Sam goes off for his date with Jessica, and leaves me with my laptop on my knee, and Jimmy is lying with his head on a cushion on the sheepskin rug on the hearth in front of me, with his hands behind his head, and he's wearing only his Tesco underpants. I'm trying to work, but can't, because he's staring at me. "Well?"

 

"Well what?"

 

"What do you want to talk about?"

 

"Who says I want to talk about anything?"

 

"I know you by now, and I know you won't stop bloody staring at me until we do. You're a pain in the arse sometimes! I've got some bloody work to do, so spit it out!"

 

"Jordan."

 

"Christ! He's in bed with us, and now he's costing me thousands of pounds in lost earnings. And don't lie in front of me looking so sexy like that, either. It's bad enough wanting you in bed, without seeing you on the bloody rug almost naked. Go and make us a coffee, and you can talk then."

 

Jimmy laughs. "Come down here. Willie's heard your voice, and he's excited."

 

"Well, you'd better tell Willie to go to sleep for a while."

 

"Please."

 

"N.O. spells `no'. Do as you're told, and go and make some coffee."

 

Jimmy, grinning from ear to ear, gets up, and goes to the kitchen to make us a drink, and five minutes later, he's back with two coffees. He places one on the table beside me, and then lies down on his side on the rug, with his drink. "I feel really sorry for him. I think I've decided what I want to do in life."

 

"What's that?"

 

"I'm going to be a social worker specialising in child psychology, and dealing specifically with kids like I was, and like Jordan is now."

 

"Your solution will be to tell them to fuck at eleven or twelve or thirteen?"

 

"Fuck off, Rob! Of all people, I expected you to understand."

 

I look at him. He's angry with me, so I place the laptop on the table, and give him my full attention. "Sorry, Jimmy. Tell me about it."

 

"Really, Rob, you haven't got a clue what Jordan is going through at the moment. Its soul destroying; and a lot of kids commit suicide because nobody helps them. Either that or they turn to drugs and sell their bodies in the bogs. There's a kid at our school who's a mess now, because that's what he does, and I'll bet he's dead before he's twenty-one. Despite all the shit I've been through, I really am blessed. I've always had my mum and Sam, and now I've got you. I want to help them, Rob, but I can't do it unless you help me."

 

I get off the sofa, go to him, push him onto his back, and stare down into his face, and then I kiss him softly. When I pull away, tears are seeping from his eyes, and I kiss them away, and stroke his face and hair. "Ok. That's what we'll do, and I'm going to drive you on, so you're the best damned child psychologist in the world, and I'm going to be so very proud of you."

 

"Thank you, Rob. Now do something else for me please."

 

"What's that?"

 

"I'm only telling you this for your own good. I know you'll be working for another two hours at least, but if you take a look down there, I'm afraid you won't get any done until Willie's at peace. It's nothing to do with me. He's got a mind of his own."

 

I grin, and begin to caress his body with my free hand. "I know he has, and it's a really perverted one, so I'm going to tell him a perverted story. Once upon a time, there was a sad and lonely eleven-year-old boy called Jimmy, who fell in love with a gorgeous man called Robert. One day, in the swimming baths, he met Robert, and they began to play together. At first, it was just fun, but as they played, quite often, Robert's hand would stray to Jimmy's small, perfectly rounded, cute buttocks, and other parts of his body. The feeling was exciting, and Jimmy couldn't stop the arousal in his swimming costume, which, because he was a very poor boy, was just a pair of Tesco underpants. They were playing a game of somersaults in the water, and when Jimmy surfaced, he discovered Robert was no longer there. He looked around, and saw his new friend with his back to the tiled edge of the pool, and both arms stretched out either side of him. Why? This was strange, so he swam to Robert, stopped by his side, and kept himself afloat by holding onto Robert's right arm, because he, Jimmy, was just out of his depth. There was a certain look in Robert's face, and Jimmy knew for certain that something was going to happen. The swimming pool was full, and the waves in the water were making Jimmy rise and fall next to Robert. As if by accident, Robert's arm dropped into the water, and Jimmy was forced to hold onto the side. As he did so, he felt Robert's hand rest on his slender waist, and he felt Robert's fingers begin to stroke him. And the hand dropped lower. (Jimmy has his eyes closed now, and my own hand is the imaginary one in the tale.) Very slowly, the hand moved to Jimmy's tummy, and he felt fingers slip into his underpants, and go down until they were fondling his now fully erect penis. Robert didn't have to do anything other than hold Jimmy, because the up and down movement of the water was pushing Jimmy's swollen penis up and down through Robert's fingers. This was a fantastic feeling, especially for an eleven-year-old, who had never had another person touch him there, and within a very short time, his small penis was in spasms of ecstasy as he climaxed with a series of breathless sobs."

 

Jimmy is wearing nothing except one of my shirts after he's showered and he walks back into the lounge, and sits and props himself by my side on the sofa. We look at each other, and grin. Words aren't necessary, and I get on with my writing. After fifteen minutes, I hear a gentle snore, but I know this is only a temporary lapse before Jimmy's demands will need to be satiated once or twice or three times again, and I also know that in the future, I will be required to tell him more perverted tales in the lives of `Robert and the poor, sad and lonely boy called Jimmy'.

 

And then an abstract thought creeps into my mind. The little boy I was describing was only eleven-years-old. Is Jimmy turning me into a paedophile?  I really do need to get a grip, and have a good think about this...

 

To be continued...

 

 

Other stories on Nifty by J.T.S.Teller: Boys can be lovers, too.