Kurt

 

Life in The Village, and the `coming of age' of a student at its remote school,
through his own eyes.

This is an original work of pure fiction (just an expression of a fantasy)
by Robert A. Armstrong (a pseudonym)

Copyright 2013-2023.  Robert Armstrong.  This complete work of literary art is protected by US, Australian and International copyright law. It is the sole property of the author and may not be reproduced in any form whether in whole or in part without the prior express written consent of the author.  
Licence is granted to Nifty Archive Alliance, Inc. for electronic publication on the Nifty.org website. All rights reserved.

The resemblance of the characters by action, name, location, or description to any real person is purely coincidental.

If it is illegal, or offensive, for you to read stories involving interactions of a sexual nature between adults and youths, then what are you doing here?

 

From Chapter 104:

I don't mention it, but, twice this past week, Ron has suggested trying `even more' with me. I reckon that he was hinting at us doing everything that Andy and I do, without actually using the words!

The first time was after lunch, three days ago, when we were wrestling and fooling around on my bed.

I reminded him that `I'm not 16 yet!' He just grinned at me and shrugged.

Then, yesterday, while we were pressing the fronts of our very soapy bodies together in the shower, Ron had his arms around me, squeezing me, with one finger between my glutes, he kept rubbing back and forth across my hole.

Despite getting really turned on, I gasped, `I'm not sixteen you know, and I'm not ready yet', to which he half-whispered and half-growled in my ear, `I'm not so sure about that!'

 

Chapter 105 – A New Thrill

"Delivery for Karl and Jacko!" Ron calls out, as we pull up next to the workers' hut.

We know that they are inside because the ute is here.

It's 12:02 by my watch, and it's the hottest part of the day. I can hear the drone of cicadas and the buzz of other insects, mostly beetles and large flies which are attracted by horse and cattle dung.

Karl follows Jacko out onto the verandah.

There are two things that I automatically check: the front of their pants (for chunkiness) and their faces (for their usual incriminating goofy grins).

I see neither. Surprisingly!

"Come in!" Jacko indicates to us. "We have even set the table for four."

I expect my brother to tell us that we are late! However, he merely asks, "What's for lunch?"

Ron smirks at me, then replies to Karl's question with another question, "How are you with chopsticks?"

I grin.

Does Ron actually know the trouble that Karl has using `knitting needles', as he calls them?

"Fucking hopeless!" my brother flashes back, pulling a sour face.

Ron laughs, "Well, it's just as well that we're not having Chinese, isn't it?

It's obvious that my brother doesn't appreciate Ron's sense of humour!

Ron continues, "Can you handle a fork, and a spoon then?"

"What do you think I am? A baby?" Karl sneers at him.

Ron walks up the couple of stairs, and I catch his wink to Jacko as he lifts the lid briefly to show him the pasta and sauce.

Jacko joins in the fun. "So, mashed vegetables it is then!"

My brother can't tell whether Jacko is serious, or is joining Ron in making fun of him!

Why is Karl giving ME a dirty look?

 

Their idea of `setting' the table, has been to put four plates in front of four chairs, with a heap of knives, forks, and spoons the middle.

The second thing that I notice is the smell.

That's Karl's and my deodorant spray!

I look at my brother and make a show of sniffing the air.

We both know what we use it to cover up! The smell of jacking off.

I glance around, to see how many beds are messed up, expecting only one; the new double. However, every bed in the hut is neatly made up. Smart! So, it was probably Jacko's idea!

With the alteration of the `table setting' to include bowls instead of plates and spoons instead of knives, Ron places the large pot of spaghetti in the middle of the table and puts a large plastic thingamajig into it. It looks like huge fork that is melted at the end, to now be of similar shape to a spoon.

"What's that thing?" Karl asks.

"It's called a spaghetti fork or a spaghetti server," Ron answers.

And, he demonstrates how to use it, heaping two servings of sauce-covered spaghetti into his own bowl. Then he sits, and waits for us to serve ourselves.

He opens a small container of a finely-grated, pale-yellow substance and uses one of the spoons to sprinkle it over his spaghetti.

"It's called Parmesan cheese," he tells us, looking at three questioning faces. "It adds a great flavour."

"This smells great!" Jacko compliments him. What's in it?"

"Well," I start, cutting in. "It's called spaghetti..." I pause.

That results in me getting a `duh' look from Jacko and `the finger' from Karl.

"Apart from the minced beef," Ron tells him, "the rest is a family secret. I hope you enjoy it!"

Family secret? Probably one of Mrs Cameron's!

Now, I thought that watching Karl trying to use chopsticks was funny. However, seeing him trying to pick up the long strands of spaghetti with a spoon is hilarious! Most slip off before the spoon even leaves the bowl.

Jacko, at least, has the sense to dig his fork into the spaghetti. However much he comes up with meets his mouth where he sucks it in.

What I do is similar. At least Jacko and I won't starve. Too bad, brother!

Ron has a bit of a chuckle before he says, "OK, guys. Watch me."

He uses his fork to pick up a few strands of the spaghetti. But, instead of moving it to his mouth, he places the bowl of the spoon below it and then begins to twist the fork. In no time, the spaghetti is wrapped around the fork into a `bunch', which Ron then puts into his mouth.

Jacko's first attempt results in a massive wad of spaghetti, which slips off his fork before it reaches his mouth.

"Not as much!" Ron tells him, and he demonstrates again.

Jacko's second attempt is pretty good!

My fork lifts one strand. I get the winding, twisting thing, but it's not much food!

Everyone turns towards Karl.

To my absolute amazement, he nails it! First go.

I very rarely see such a wonderful grin and happy smile on his face.

It must be what Ron and Andy see when I smile!

I'm Karl and he's me. Identical twins.

I love my sometimes-stupid-and-annoying brother!

 

My phone rings.

I'm glad that Dad is ringing me and not Karl. I'm not finished with his rooster ring tone yet!

"Hi Dad." I answer. "Yes, everything's fine. How are Helen and my sisters? And you?"

I'm surprised by his answer, and I pass my phone to Ron.

Ron's short answers are almost meaningless without hearing what Dad is saying.

However, when I hear Ron say, "Tomorrow? Sure. I can drive the Land Rover in after breakfast," I immediately understand what is happening.

Tonight will be his and my last night together.

Ron asks my Dad, "Do you want the boys to come in with me?"

Without saying anything, he looks at me and nods. Then at my brother, and shakes his head.

"OK, Jan," Ron says, "See you around 11:00 in the morning, at the hospital. Love to Helen."

Then he disconnects and passes my phone back to me.

Ron looks at us and explains what is happening.

"Well, tomorrow," he tells us, "Helen and the babies are coming home. In the new car. I'm to drive Kurt to the hospital, where he can help with everything. Then I'll take the Land Rover to my aunt and uncle's place. Uncle Jim wants to buy it instead of your dad letting the car yard have it for a lot less than it's worth." He turns to Karl and adds, "Your dad says that you and Jacko can take the day off from all of your hard work over the past three weeks, and just have fun on the horses or the quad bikes."

There is silence.

Not for long.

"Well," Jacko says to Karl. "We'd better go and check that everything is in good shape before your father gets home." He turns to Ron. "If you guys don't mind cleaning up, Karl and I will get back to work. And, we'll fix our own dinner tonight, and breakfast in the morning. Thank you for lunch."

I can't help thinking that they have been slacking off, and haven't done as much as Dad expected them to achieve. Now, they have 24 hours to put in a final effort!

"No problem, Jacko," Ron tells him, and shakes his hand. Then, to my brother, he grins, "Sorry that we didn't get to have that swim, Karl. Maybe next time, eh? Oh, and don't drown before I get back."

Karl is stunned. Ron and Jacko exchange grins. I'm not sure how long they will be able to continue the joke about Ron's previous attempt to `assassinate' my brother. And, that it remains `unfinished business'.

I let the smirk drop off my face when my brother turns and looks at me.

 

"You want to drive back to the house?" Ron asks. "The keys are still in the ignition."

"Thanks!" I tell him.

With a final check of the workers' hut that everything is spick and span, we close the door and head for the Land Rover.

"Should we go down and check how much work they've done?" I suggest to Ron.

"Probably not a good idea, Champ," he answers. "You can go down with your Dad after he gets home and see. That way, if he asks you, you can honestly tell him that you don't know."

 

We clean the house, spotlessly, and I decide to bake a `welcome home' cake for everyone. I'll write all four names on it: Helen, Jan, Margaret, and Melody.

It's surprising how quickly time passes when you are busy! We find ourselves ready for bed.

 

We are in the shower, hugging, with our erections rubbing together, `sword fighting'.

Ron is massaging my glutes and he has one finger rubbing over my hole, and occasionally just pressing the tip into it.

"So," Ron raises the subject that I've been thinking about a lot. Not actually fearing it, but feeling a bit anxious about him asking. "You want to know what else sixteen-year-olds can do, do you?" He wiggles his finger-tip inside me.

I have an answer mostly-prepared.

"If it's what I'm thinking, then I actually know," I tell him. "And, I've already done it, too!"

He pushes me back to arms' length and stares into my eyes. I know that he's good at reading auras. I hope that he can't read my mind!

"It's OK," he tells me. "I'm not going to ask, `Who?', because I reckon that I know."

"How?" I ask him.

"Don't forget," he says. "I have seen you and Andy with each other. And your auras absolutely shine and merge whenever you are together. I have thought that, if you were going to do it with anyone, it would be him."

"Sorry!" I tell him, "that I didn't wait for you."

He begins to ask me the real question that I have been dreading, "So, would you like to...?"

I cut him off. "We have promised each other not to do it with anyone else.!"

He forces a grin and tells me, "Champ, not only are you the most handsome teenager that I've ever met, you are also the smartest. You and Andy are lucky to have each other."

He pulls me into a hug again and, with his hands and finger returning to their previous positions, he asks, "May I at least show you something else that you both may not have discovered yet?"

I ask cautiously, "What?" Then, thinking of everything that Ron has told me, shown me, and taught me, I answer, cautiously, "OK. But, you're not going to fuck me, are you?"

"No, Champ," he answers. "I respect your decision to be `exclusive' with Andy. However, I do know something that you might both enjoy. Do you trust me?"

I didn't actually tell him that it was Andy, but he knows! It's almost a relief that he does. Apart from `Uncle', Ron is now the only other one who knows what Andy and I do. I reckon that if I ever need to ask about anything, Ron would tell me.

"Yes, I trust you," I tell him.

"Then, just go with me," he says. "Don't be afraid."

OMG! What is he going to do that I might be afraid of?

He continues to play with my glutes, and my hole, then he begins to push his finger in and out, gradually getting deeper.

"You promised!" I tell him.

"A promise is a promise!" he says. "Just tell me if it feels uncomfortable."

"I trust you," I say, even if it is a little more hesitantly.

"Then turn around and bend forward a little," he tells me.

I feel his finger go deeper and deeper.

What he's doing is just like how Andy and I prepare ourselves for each other.

Junior is absolutely rigid, remembering what would happen next if Andy was here.

However, Ron, suddenly touches something which sends a shudder of pleasure through my entire body. Not just Junior.

"You felt it, didn't you?" Ron asks.

"Uh-huh," I gasp. "What was that?"

"Relax and just enjoy it," he replies. "I'll explain later."

He keeps doing it.

I keep feeling it, and I keep shuddering.

Suddenly, I scream out, "Ron!" just before Junior spurts and jerks and spurts.

He keeps going, so does Junior, until I feel like I'm going to lose my balance and pass out. Ron grabs me more tightly and hugs me to him.

"You OK, Champ?" I hear him ask, uncertain whether I'm still awake, or just waking up.

"What was that?" I manage to whisper. "OMG! What did you do to me?"

He begins to explain, then I cut him off. "Teach me how to do it! Please."

I really want to give Ron the same pleasure that he has just given me.

And, I'll tell Andy that it's part of his birthday present when I do it to him!

 

We are on our way to see my Dad, Helen and my two sisters. A bit earlier than necessary.

I'm still feeling `drained' after last night. Junior is in dreamland! Sound asleep. And, I have a new word in my vocabulary; `prostate'.

"Ron?" I ask as he slows down for a mob of sheep.

"Yes, Champ?" he replies. "Are you OK? You've been very quiet this morning."

"Ron, I just wanted to say `thank you' for what you showed me, and for not fucking me."

"A promise is a promise, Champ," he repeats, turning sideways and smiling. "I'm happy that I was able to show you that one thing, despite not being able to do the rest with you. And, I've gotta tell you, you did it well for me too. You're a quick learner. Andy's a really lucky guy!"

He rests his free hand on my thigh, and I cover it with my own, interlocking our fingers, and giving them a squeeze.

"May I ask you one more favour?" I put to him.

"Anything, Champ!" he replies. "What is it?"

"Would you please take me to see Mr and Mrs Cameron before you drop me at the hospital? When they left, I did promise to come and see them. I've never had the chance. Until now."

"Sure thing, Champ," he smiles. "Aunty Daph will be thrilled to see you."

He slides his hand away, and then replaces it on top of mine. And squeezes my fingers.

I love him. Just not the same as I do Andy.

 

"Oh, my goodness!" Mrs Cameron exclaims, immediately grabbing me in a tight hug. "You've grown! And, what a handsome young man you are! Look at you!"

"It must be the recipes in your Red Book," I reply. "They are amazing!"

"Nothing of the sort!" she replies. "It's you who are amazing!"

And she attempts to hug the breath out of me for a second time.

"He wanted to see you before I drop him at the hospital," Ron tells her. "Jan and Helen are taking the babies home today."

"I did promise to come and see you," I tell her. "But, I just haven't had the opportunity."

"No need to apologise," Mrs Cameron replies. "Now, let's have a cup of coffee and a fresh custard tart."

She knows me so well!

"Have you made any of these yet?" she asks. "If I remember correctly, the recipe is in the book. However, come to think of it, it might be pinned behind something else. Did you find it?"

What? I have the recipe for custard tarts?? Like these???

"No, actually," I tell her. "But I will certainly look for it when I get home!"

Mr Cameron, joining the conversation, says "You have two beautiful little sisters". "Daphne and I have been over there to see them and Helen, every day."

Mrs Cameron adds, "And Helen told me that you chose the name `Melody'. How clever!"

"She's a real singer, then, is she?" I ask.

"Going to be as good as you, your father tells me," Mrs Cameron adds.

"Do you sing?" Ron asks. "You never told me that!"

"Why would I?" I reply. "Besides, you never asked."

"Did you know that our nephew plays guitar?" Mr Cameron asks, pointing at Ron.

"No." I answer, giving Ron a pouted stare.

"You never asked!" he grins at me.

We all laugh.

 

Just before 11:00, we pull up at the hospital, behind a car that looks like Mr Grant's Beast. It's shiny like our fridge and washing machine, except it's grey. I don't remember seeing any colour like it.

Dad closes the tailgate then turns around and sees us.

"Hello son," he greets me, giving me a hug, and bumping fists with Ron. "What do you think of it?"

"Can I drive it?" I immediately ask, grinning.

"In your dreams!" he replies, ruffling my hair. "Maybe when you're eighteen."

"How about sixteen?" I ask him. Then I look at Ron. `Sixteen' has special meaning for us!

Dad follows my eyes towards Ron, and asks him, "Eighteen is still the age to get a licence in this state, isn't it?"

"Actually, Jan," Ron answers, "I'm pretty sure that you can get a Learner's Licence at sixteen."

"What?" Dad exclaims, looking genuinely shocked. "My father told me that I had to wait until I was 18 for a licence, but that he did a special deal to get me a special permit at 17, when we found out that I was going to be a father."

Ron grins. "Then I reckon that your father was either really devious, or extremely smart!"

Dad turns to me, points a finger, and says, "Now, don't you go getting any ideas about becoming a father just to get a Driver's Licence!"

Somewhat shocked, I reply, "I promise you, Dad, that will never happen!" Then I add, "Besides, I can already drive, can't I?"

I can tell that he's struggling to make up a comment to throw back at me.

I change the subject. "Can we see inside the new car, Dad? Please."

He shows Ron and me, apart from him and Helen, where Karl and I and perhaps one extra person can sit, and where the babies will be.

"The two baby capsules click into and out of their anchor points," Dad says. "Do you want to bring one? We can secure the girls in them inside before we carry them out to the car."

We say goodbye to Ron. It feels weird seeing him drive away in our Land Rover.

"I think that we'll be seeing quite a bit of Ron," Dad tells me as we carry the capsules into the hospital. "Now that Jim has the Land Rover, Ron can come and visit any time that he's up this way. And he did say that his work this semester would all be on-line. Did he get much of it done in the past three weeks?"

"He's probably got a lot of catching up to do," I smile at my Dad. "I think that you'll be impressed at how much he and I have been able to achieve while you've been in here."

Dad answers, "I know that he's a really good worker. And, Tom (Mr Grant) wants to offer him and Jacko some paid work at Jintabudjaree. Probably not at the same time, so that they can also continue to help us at Whispering Gums. Especially since Helen will be very busy with the girls and, we hope, that you and Karl will be able to help at least one day each weekend. The rest of the week you'll be at school and spending the nights in the new house."

My brain goes into `organising' mode.

How is this going to work so that Karl can spend one full day with Jacko, and I can have Ron for a day?

One of them (maybe Ron) can do some work for Mr Grant at the end of the week and bring my brother and me home for the weekend, spend Saturday with me, then work for a few days with my Dad.

The other one (Jacko) can be working with my Dad at the end of the week and Saturday, spend Sunday with Karl, then drive Karl and me to school on Monday, or even take us in to our house on Sunday night. Then he can do some work at Jintabudjaree for Mr Grant.

The rest of the time, while Karl and I are at school, and staying in our new house, Ron and Jacko could either sleep at Jintabudjaree or Whispering Gums, to do their `own thing'. That would give Ron a chance to do his uni work, or he may want to go back into Cunnamulla to be with his aunt and uncle.

Or, something like that!

I think that I'll have to write it all down for Dad to understand it, so that he can talk to Ron, Jacko, and Mr Grant.

 

The hospital is quiet.

Both girls are sleeping.

Helen is dressed, ready to come home.

Dad and I put the two capsules onto Helen's bed. Then, Helen and the nurse, carefully move my sisters into the two capsules.

"How will we tell them apart now?" I ask. "Their name tags are still in the cribs."

The nurse replies, "It's all right. They still have their ankle tags."

Helen adds, "There is a difference. It won't take you long to work them out."

I look into each capsule. They appear the same to me. One girl doesn't stir. The other one opens her eyes. I think that she sees me, smiles, then goes back to sleep.

Maybe, I just imagined all that, but, I'm guessing that this one is Melody!

All of the nurses who have been on duty for the past three weeks, come to say goodbye and to wish Helen `Good Luck and Good Health'.

Dad carries Margaret's capsule. Helen and I share the handle on Melody's. Two nurses bring bags of things for Helen and the babies.

Dad shows me how the capsules click into their fittings. The bags are stowed behind the back seat.

Helen sits up front with Dad, and I choose the middle seat at the back so that I will be able to see the road between the `pilot' and the `navigator'.

Dad starts the car.

It even growls like Mr Grant's `Beast'.

 

The sound of the engine soon causes me to feel drowsy.

I wake up with a jump.

I was remembering what Ron taught me last night, and I reckon that I've just had a wet dream in the middle of the day!

"Welcome back!" Dad says. "You were sleeping like a baby!"

 

(to be continued)

 

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If you like the story, and haven't said 'hello' yet, please take a couple of minutes to email me.

rob.zz@hotmail.com

I try to reply to everyone, though maybe not immediately. Please be patient.

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The partly-parallel version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, gives the backstory specifically for Tom, William, Andy and Jintabudjaree.
Find `Schoolie' at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie

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If you're interested, I have 26 (A-Z) short stories at

https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/massage-tales

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