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 2013-2024. 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 108:
Karl and Ingrid
begin engaging in a one-fingered tagging game. Touching one another and then
touching the other person back. Continuously.
Karl has that same
goofy expression on his face which I first noticed when he started mucking
around with Jacko, and every other time that they have been together. The same
as with Bjorn!
Ron whispers, "The
two of them are glowing, like Karl was with Bjorn, and their auras are merging!
I don't even want to think about what they might have done together while they
were out riding!"
I hear two
kookaburras laugh.
Chapter 109
– Merging Auras
Ron
may not want to think about what my brother might have done with Ingrid. But, I certainly
do!
The `touchy' game that he's playing with her, I've
never seen him do after having fun with William, or Jacko, or Bjorn, for that
matter! And not even with me!
Ingrid said that he was `Fantastic'; the same word
that Bjorn used to describe Karl's newly-learned skill in bed with him.
Wait! Actually, she only used it to answer my
question, `How was it?' She might have been referring to the horse riding, and
not to my brother.
But, again, Ron told me that both of their auras were
glowing. And merging.
And, Karl is laughing! He's happy. He's totally changed
from how he was earlier!
Has my brother now fucked both Bjorn and his sister? I
never saw that coming!
I think that I should talk with Bjorn, maybe tomorrow,
and ask whether Ingrid told him what she enjoyed so much! What was so
`fantastic'?
When should I do that? And, where?
And, I still need to have the discussion with Karl and
Jacko, about me being happy for them to do whatever they want together.
Over dinner, even though I can't see their auras, Karl
and Ingrid are radiating... what?
A glow? A warmth? A happiness? A friendliness?
And, I'm not the only one to notice it.
"Did you enjoy your horse ride, then, love?" Helen
asks her. "You look very happy."
"Oh, yes. Very much. Thank you," she replies. "I would
like to do it all again. And, the kangaroos were beautiful."
The kangaroos might have been beautiful! But I'm
hearing something else... that she wants to get my brother into bed with her
again! To do `it' again!
I reckon that Bjorn knows! He gives his sister a
sideways glance, and a smirk which wouldn't make sense to just acknowledge her seeing
kangaroos!
Are they sharing a secret about my brother?
"Well, goodbye everyone!" Ron tells the Erikssons as
he heads for the door. "It has been a pleasure to meet you all. I hope that you
continue to enjoy your time at Whispering Gums and that you have a safe trip
home, if I don't see you before then."
To Bjorn and Ingrid especially, he asks, "How are you
both finding it here?"
"Fantastic!" they reply together, then turn to each
other and laugh.
To the rest of us he comments, "See you all soon! Maybe,
at Jintabudjaree."
"I'll go out with you to the Land Rover," I tell him,
and give him the cinnamon scrolls and recipe for Mrs Cameron.
Not far from the house, Ron says to me, "I reckon that
Karl has done it all right... with both of them! I was watching them all through
dinner. Glowing! It was like watching a double vision of you and Andy. Has any of
them said anything to you yet?"
"No. Nothing!" I reply. "But, I might get some
information out of Bjorn tonight, while I'm with him in bed. Umm, but I won't
be doing what he and Karl did."
"Look after yourself, Champ," he tells me. "And, don't
worry about Karl. I'm sure that he can handle it. Like you manage with Andy. I
reckon that he'll tell you everything, when you two are alone somewhere."
"Thanks, Ron," I reply and give him a hug.
Before he gets into the Land Rover, he swats me on the
tail and says, "Hey! Nice glutes!"
That makes me smile!
I stand, and watch the swirls of dust as he drives
away towards the just-recently-set sun.
Mr Eriksson, Jacko, Karl, Bjorn, and I are freshening
ourselves up in the bunk house, with a wonderful dinner settling in our stomachs.
"So, where is everyone sleeping?" Jacko asks. "Is my
bed at the other end still available?"
He can see, even from the door, which beds have and
haven't been used.
I know that Jacko doesn't usually sleep at the other
end at all! He used to have the second or third one on the right, near my
Dad's.
Which bed does he want? One up here, opposite Mr
Eriksson? Or, down there next to Karl?
Or, just close to Bjorn? That would be risky!
With Mr Eriksson here and looking on, Jacko had better
be careful!
I tell him, "Mr Eriksson is using Dad's usual one, up here,
near the toilet. We'll show you where we have all been sleeping," I say, "then
you can choose any other one that you want."
Karl, Bjorn, and I walk and stand at the end of the
beds which have been ours for the past few nights.
I look back at Jacko's face. There are obviously many
things going through his mind. Options! Decisions!
If he does choose to sleep down here, in a bed near
Karl, me and Bjorn, would Mr Eriksson become suspicious of his motives?
I definitely would be! And, I would probably be right!
If Mr Eriksson wasn't here, I could imagine all
kinds of close `bed hopping' occurring during the night. Karl could have fun
with Bjorn, and Jacko, and me.
Maybe, so would Jacko with Bjorn, while Karl was with
me.
Me and Bjorn? Probably.
Me and Jacko! Not!
I'm greatly relieved when Jacko says, "I'll have this
one up here near the showers. You guys can fart all you like down at that end!"
Everyone bursts out laughing, including Mr Eriksson.
Sometimes, Jacko can be really smart. And funny. I can
see why Karl likes him, apart from the obvious!
Now that Jacko's bed is settled, I walk back towards
Mr Eriksson and say, "It's probably a good idea to shower before bed, and get
rid of the dust of the day. Especially with new sheets on the beds. Karl and I
usually shower together, but you can go first, if you like."
He responds, "No you can all take yours first; Bjorn
and I will go last."
Then, in response to his son's pout, he says "It's
still OK to shower with your dad, you know! And, it would be a good idea to leave
all your clothes on your bed, so that they don't get wet."
Bjorn doesn't look happy!
"Come on, Karl," I tell my brother, heading back
towards my bed. "You and me in the shower. Let's make it quick."
So that Bjorn doesn't feel singled out by his father, I
strip off quickly, leave my clothes on the bed and walk naked towards the
showers. Isn't that what Bjorn would do at home? Or, is there a reason why sharing
a shower with his father would be troubling him?
Karl follows my lead. We walk past Mr Eriksson, who, watches
us closely.
"What is Mr Eriksson's problem?" Karl says to me, in
the privacy of the running water. "I'm glad that our dad isn't like that, even though
I sometimes feel that he picks on me and enjoys making fun of me."
"I don't know!" I reply. "Perhaps the best thing that
we can do is to be friends with Bjorn for the rest of his time here, and
organise things so that the two of them aren't always together."
"Agreed!" he tells me, extending his wet fist, to bump
a `Deal'!
I have the quickest shower that I have probably ever had.
"I'm done!" I tell him. "I'll get Jacko to come and take
my place."
The smile on Karl's face expresses, `Thank You'.
I wipe off as much water as possible, so as not to
drip onto the bunk house floor.
Mr Eriksson is beginning to give me the creeps, so I
wrap my towel around my waist!
"Your turn, Jacko," I say, passing him. "Although, Karl
isn't quite finished yet. I think that he's going to wash his hair."
Jacko tries to hide his own `Thank you' smirk,
shucking his clothes onto his bed. He doesn't have as far to walk as Karl and I
did.
I'm dressed before Karl appears, after many minutes
alone with Jacko, who emerges not far behind him.
"It's all yours!" he tells Mr Eriksson, who then waits
for Bjorn to walk the length of the floor before he takes his own clothes off
and follows his son.
He's not the only one admiring the reason for those three
handsome `lumps' that I felt in Bjorn's pants! Nice!
"I'm heading back over to the house," I tell Jacko and
Karl. We briefly discuss whether we should play cards, or dominoes, or Chinese
Checkers, then have some supper before we hit the sack.
As I pass the showers, I think that I make out Mr
Eriksson say something like, `It's OK son. I'll be quick. Bend over!"
Was he speaking to Bjorn in Swedish?
Maybe, with the showers running, I just imagined what
it sounded like in English?
He and Mrs Eriksson do have reasonably strong accents,
but Ingrid and Bjorn not so much, and they are easier to understand.
Yes. It was probably just his accent, and I only imagined
those words.
Mr Eriksson joins us in the lounge without his son. I
look around his body to see if Bjorn is following him.
"Bjorn will be over shortly," he explains, following my
eyes. "He needed to use the toilet."
I am instantly suspicious! Andy and I often use the
toilet after we've `given ourselves to each other completely' and need to clear
out what we have left inside each other's body.
Did that really happen with Mr Eriksson and Bjorn in
the showers?
Or, am I reading too much into this?
We have two games set up. Four people can play poker
on the coffee table, while the other six play Chinese Checkers on the main
dining table.
Even though Jacko is a dominoes expert, and no slouch
at Chinese Checkers, he has chosen to play poker with Karl, which is my
brother's best chance of winning at something.
Dad and I are bringing in some `nibblies' to eat while
we are playing, plus the things for supper, when Bjorn comes in.
He looks around at where everyone is sitting; not just
his father. He immediately announces, "I'll play cards with Karl and Jacko." He
looks at me. "Are you playing too, Kurt?"
Karl and Jacko are opposite each other. I sit with my
back to the dining table, so that I can watch Bjorn's facial expressions.
During the game, he smiles when he looks at me.
However, that expression changes each time that he glances past me.
Of course, I could be wrong about Bjorn and his father!
Maybe. Or not.
After a few games, and having returned from the
kitchen with `refills' for our snacks, I suggest a change of seating
positions, so that Bjorn will have his back to his father with Karl opposite
him. I'll take Karl's seat, opposite Jacko.
Bjorn appears to relax, and he begins to win as many
hands as Karl does. They both keep smiling at each other.
There is a loud, united groan from the dining table.
Mrs Eriksson has won. Again!
"Supper time!" Helen announces.
I can't keep my eyes open, even though I am keenly
awaiting my one-on-one time with Bjorn.
I am roused from my light doze by Bjorn sliding his
body in next to mine. I nudge over to give him more room.
Junior is fully awake before my eyes and brain are.
"Sorry," Bjorn whispers, cuddling up to me with his
hand immediately finding my stiffness, "I wanted to wait until I was sure that everyone
else in the room was asleep."
"I was too," I tell him, then add, "Well, not all of
me was, as you have already discovered!"
He wobbles my thick erection in acknowledgment, and we
giggle quietly together.
We begin by simply playing with each other, including
balls, and feeling hairs, until our pre-cum indicates that it's time to do
more.
And we do!
His hand goes fast on me. The feeling reminds me of
when I first discovered that my penis had an extra use, other than peeing.
I alternate doing him slower and faster. Who taught me
that? Was it Ron?
"Oh, you are so good at this!" he growls in a whisper.
He occasionally pushes his hips up to meet my slippery
hand, when I'm going slowly. And he groans.
Bjorn and I continue jacking each other until my spunk
rag serves its purpose. Doubly.
We take some time to recover, lying, facing one
another, with our arms enveloping each other's body.
Breathing. I love the feeling of his hot breath on my
neck, and of our dicks and thighs together.
He is the first one to move.
I think that he's going back to his own bed, but,
instead, he re-joins me, head-to-toe.
I know what that means! I love the immediate feeling
of his mouth on my already-sensitive penis. Junior reacts instantly. Fully
hard.
I don't need to feel for his. It finds its own way to
my mouth.
At least, this time, he doesn't try to syphon me dry
as quickly as possible.
We did this the other night and he learned from me the
pleasure of going gently and slowly and firmly and deeply, and a couple of
other variations that I know. (Courtesy of Ron and Andy and Mr Grant.)
For this release, the spunk rag isn't needed. I
swallow all of it, and I hold him in my mouth until his stiffness stops
spurting and throbbing.
Then, I relax and enjoy him doing the same to me at
the other end of the bed.
He re-joins me, head-to-head, on our backs.
Then, rolling onto one elbow, with his face close to
mine, he whispers, "Sorry, that I didn't give you the chance to fuck me."
"That's OK," I tell him. "I expect that my brother
kept you happy after you both went riding out on the mud flats!"
"He is so good," Bjorn responds. "Was he lying about
not knowing how to do it?"
"Not that I know of," I answer him. "But, he doesn't
have to tell me everything that he gets up to."
He shocks me with, "And, my sister thinks so too. She
even told me that your brother was even better in bed than I am!"
How do I respond to that?
At least it removes any uncertainty in my mind about
Karl and her!
Bjorn gives me a peck on the mouth and says,
"Goodnight Kurt, and thanks!"
"Goodnight," I tell him. "Sleep well!"
"I will now!" he replies, with the hint of a giggle.
Not being able to see in the dark, I can just imagine
his broad, white-toothed grin.
Here I am, staring at the ceiling again tonight,
picturing my brother's active glutes, not only with Bjorn, but also with
Ingrid! I'm unsure if I'm feeling sick, or if I'm just jealous.
Even though I had wanted to, I couldn't bring myself
to ask Bjorn about what I (thought I) heard his father say to him in the
shower!
My goals for tomorrow are: another cooking lesson, that
discussion with Karl and Jacko, a chat with my Dad about a few `things' on my
mind, and a plan to take some of our guests to Jintabudjaree.
Maybe Karl and I could also show Bjorn and Ingrid our
school. I'll check with Dad and Mr Grant. Which reminds me, I have a bit of
homework to complete!
Our `rooster alarm' sounds off, with less volume than
usual, for a Saturday. Or so it feels.
Looking around in the dim light, I seem to be the only
one who has heard it, or who hasn't ignored it.
I tip-toe to my brother's bed on the other side of the
room.
"Karl," I say quietly, and shaking him gently.
"What now?" he asks, opening and then closing his
eyes.
"I'm going over to the house before everyone gets up."
I tell him. "I have a bit of homework to finish." I ask, "Have you done yours?"
He pulls the sheet over his head.
"Go away!" he grumbles.
"I'll help you with yours, if you like," I tell him.
"And then we can give it to Mr Grant when we go and visit him and William later
today."
The mention of William's name, causes the sheet to be hastily
removed.
Karl looks at me.
"You'll help me get it finished this morning?" he
asks.
"Sure!" I tell him. "Don't we always look out for each
other, and tell each other everything?"
I make out a weird expression on my brother's face. Is
it guilt? For not doing his homework? Or, for not telling me everything?"
"I'll bet that William will be happy to see you!" I
grin.
That does it! He slides out of bed and pulls on a
shirt, and his jeans, without undies.
"OK," he tells me. "You talked me into it. Thanks, by
the way."
We put in a good ninety minutes of solid work before
Margaret and Melody begin `singing'.
This would have been a perfect time to ask Karl about
Bjorn and Ingrid. However, following Ron's advice, I will leave it to my
brother to mention the surrender of his virginity.
Helen emerges.
"Hello boys," she greets us. "You're up early!"
Karl immediately responds, "I'm helping Kurt finish
his homework."
Helen looks at me.
I wink.
She nods. She knows!
"Thank you, Karl," I tell him, as though he has been
of great assistance to me. "I think that we've finished all of it."
Helen grins.
I'm about to offer my help with the girls when Dad
appears from their bedroom, dressed, thankfully. And, Mrs Eriksson and Ingrid
appear from the other direction; Karl's and my bedrooms.
"Anyone for an early morning coffee?" I ask, packing
up Karl's and my books and papers.
"Anyone for toast with that?" Karl asks, surprising not
only me, and he heads with me to the kitchen.
I don't miss Ingrid and Karl touch each other as they
pass. One-finger touches. With grins.
While everyone is eating a simple breakfast of
scrambled eggs and bacon, with coffee, toast and jam, or conserve, or marmalade,
we discuss visiting Mr Grant at Jintabudjaree, and that William is at home too
at the moment.
Our new `Rhino', people mover, will be ideal for the
travel. However, large as it is, it won't carry all of us. There's Dad and
Helen, Mr and Mrs Eriksson, Bjorn and Ingrid, Karl and me, the baby capsules
for Margaret and Melody. Plus, Jacko, if we all go. That's eleven.
I reckon that we'll need to use the ute, as well as
the Rhino. Maybe Jacko, Bjorn, Karl, and I can travel in the ute, and the
others can travel in comfort. That would work!
Jacko shares with us that William loves the new
stables and his art studio, both of which are nearing completion.
"Anybody want dessert?" I ask, which attracts many
strange looks.
"Do you have dessert at breakfast?" Bjorn asks; the same
question which is on other faces.
"Not exactly," I reply. "What if I just call it
`pancakes'? It will only take me about ten minutes. Hands up who wants some!"
I've never made pancakes for so many people before.
However, with a couple of willing helpers, it's easy.
I make up the mixture. Ingrid pours, and is in charge
of turning. Jacko conveys the `ready' ones to the table, where the choice of lemon
juice and sugar, or maple syrup, is waiting.
When the last of the mixture is done, and the basin,
and mixer parts, pan and other utensils are washed, I'm hoping that they have
left something for the `cooks' to eat.
Where have Karl and Bjorn gone? I don't ask, and
nobody says anything.
They've probably made some excuse about having to fix
something back in the bunkhouse. Or to get ready to go to Jintabudjaree. They
wouldn't be able to do so quickly what I was suspecting! Or could they?
Ingrid, Jacko, and I have our fill of the pancakes,
with `leftovers' for Mr Eriksson and Dad.
While pointing at me, Mr Eriksson smiles at Dad, and comments,
"Are you sure that you don't want to swap him for Bjorn?"
His wife adds, "Maybe for six months? It could be a
nice `cultural exchange' for them both."
I watch Dad and Helen, who look at each other.
Hopefully, they're not considering the suggestion
seriously!
Dad opens his mouth to speak.
Is it about me going to live with the Erikssons, and
Ingrid? I love it here, with Dad and Helen, and my sisters and my
sometimes-pain-in-the arse brother, and Mr Grant, and Ron. Besides, the thought
of me having to walk around naked for six months with Mr Eriksson and Ingrid
watching me is terrifying. And Mrs Eriksson. Aargh! No. I'm not going!
I'm relieved when it has nothing to do with that!
Dad says, "I spoke with Tom last night, and with Julie
Smith at the pub. After Tom and Will have shown us all around Jintabudjaree,
we'll head across to The Village, look at the school, our new house, and then have
lunch in the pub's new dining room. And we are all going to be joined by Ron,
Marty, his mother, his sister Anna, and Marty's business partner, Ashley Cook."
My brain jumps into mental-arithmetic mode. That's a
lot of people – eighteen of us! It's a long time since we all ate there. Before
the renovations. And, Julie Smith is a fantastic cook.
We all set about cleaning up, getting ready, and I
even remember to grab our homework.
I love the way that the doors on our Rhino slide all
of the way back on each side. That not only makes it easy for anyone to access
the back seat, but there is plenty of room to secure each of the girls from a
different side in the middle seat, with room for one person between them. There
is also extra space for `things' behind the back seat, via the tailgate.
It's a very different arrangement to Mr Grant's Beast.
With Mr Eriksson and Dad in the front, Helen between
the girls in the middle row, and Ingrid and Mrs Eriksson in the back, the Rhino
pulls away slowly.
Karl must decide whether to sit in the front of the
ute with Jacko, or in the back with Bjorn.
What do you reckon? Of course, he chooses to be with
Bjorn!
Jacko follows the Rhino, but not close enough to be
within range of the dust that it's stirring up.
I'm really unsure how my brother became so `fantastic'
in bed with Bjorn and Ingrid! Had he already been doing it with Jacko? Or, with
William?
And, I still wonder whether Bjorn has `done it' with Jacko
as well as Karl.
Will they say anything about it, or sex generally, on
the nearly-two-hour drive to Jintabudjaree?
They don't!
I'll bet that they would have if I wasn't here!
So, with no comments at all, even knowing that Bjorn had
offered himself to me as well, they are definitely keeping it a secret from me!
I let it go!
And I focus on the kangaroos, emus, sheep, and
vegetation that we see along the way, with a commentary from Jacko.
It's fascinating to hear Bjorn's comparison between
our country and Sweden. Castles? Snow? Forests? Reindeer? Skiing and skating?
Wow! I wonder what it would be like to swap with him for
six months? Should I actually consider it?
William has travelled a lot with his father. Maybe I
should ask his opinion. And Mr Grant's.
But, there's still the issue of them walking around
without clothes, most of the time. Would it really be too different to me being
naked with my brother and Dad?
I'm not sure that I'd like to see Mrs Eriksson's large,
naked body!
And, would Ingrid want me, the same way as my brother?
Do I want to do that?
And, would Mr Eriksson want to do to me what I heard him
suggest to Bjorn in the shower?
I'll bet that my brother wouldn't mind me swapping! I
immediately picture his nice glutes constantly tightening and relaxing in bed
with Bjorn, night after night. And in the shower. And on a bed at one of the
workers' huts. For six months!
How would Dad and Helen and Margaret and Melody cope
without me? And, especially, how would Andy manage, if we couldn't stay at each
other's place during holiday times?
"Wow!" Bjorn exclaims as we park beside the Rhino at
Jintabudjaree. "Look at this place!"
It snaps me out of the daydreaming conflict going on
inside me.
Mr Grant has obviously seen us coming. He is waiting
at the bottom of the stairs, and is holding some of the house's
constantly-blooming roses.
"Welcome to Jintabudjaree" he says, greeting Mrs
Eriksson and Ingrid with a rose each. He shakes Mr Eriksson's hand and also
Bjorn's.
"And one for the lovely mother," he announces, handing
a Helen a rose, and kissing her on the cheek. "It's good to see you again. And
where are those little cherubs of yours?"
He fusses over Margaret and Melody as Dad releases
them from their capsules, and handing Margaret to Helen, and Melody to Mrs
Eriksson's waiting arms.
"Please, come up," Mr Grant tells everyone. Then he
adds, "I'll show you the house first. Then, for those who want to see the
stables and art studio, Jacko and William can show you.
He starts with the library, and people linger, to look
more closely at the historic collection. Then the lounge, before crossing to
the dining room and kitchen.
"This place is a cook's dream!" Mrs Eriksson tells
him.
We follow him up the stairs and, turning to the left,
we see the southern bathroom, the green room, and the pink room.
Then, the view from the front balcony causes a `Wow!'
from all of our guests.
`My' blue room, Mr Grant's `Master's Room' and another
bathroom complete the tour.
I notice Bjorn rubbing his backside, and overhear his
father ask, "What's wrong, son?"
Bjorn answers, "Nothing's wrong. It just ... doesn't
hurt anymore! Not since we came into this house."
I don't even want to think what was causing his pain.
Maybe it was something that his father did. Maybe not.
"Where's William?" Karl asks.
Mr Grant tells him, "He and Ron are either down in the
stables or in Will's art studio, adding some finishing touches. And I think
that they have organised a surprise for everyone."
I was thinking that all of us would go down and see
the `surprise'.
However, my nose detects a now-familiar odour. My
sisters need to stay with Helen and Mrs Eriksson. Nappy time!
Karl takes off down the front stairs with Bjorn close
behind. Ingrid and Jacko follow them. Dad, Mr Eriksson, and I walk down more
slowly.
I'm disappointed that Mr Grant isn't coming. Well,
there's nothing new for him to see, I suppose!
We now see William's art studio, just behind the
house. It wasn't visible as we drove up.
The stables are another 50m farther away to the west,
so that the usual southerly and easterly breezes would direct any horse smells
away from the house.
What I wasn't expecting, was to see two horses hitched
up to the landau, beneath the house.
And, they are not horses that I've seen around here
previously. Not at our place, nor at Jane and Jake's.
They are magnificent! All black, except for lots of
white hair around their hoofs. And so tall!
I ask quietly, "Dad, what kind of horses are they?"
"I think that they're Clydesdales," he answers. "But
there are other similar breeds. Beautiful, aren't they?"
"They look like twins." I tell him. "Like Karl and
me."
I wonder where they came from.
"All aboard!" William calls to us.
I'm not sure if that's the right thing to say to have
people step into a landau. Isn't that what you tell people when you want them to
get onto a train? What about onto a ship? What do you say then?
Where's Mr Grant when I have an English question?
Anyway, Karl sits between Bjorn and Ingrid. They all
look happy with their knees touching.
Dad, I, and Mr Eriksson are opposite them. Bjorn sits
opposite my Dad instead of his father.
William is driving, and Jacko is `riding shotgun'. I
hear mouthed clicking sounds and the horses start, slowly, then pick up the
pace a little.
Ron is waving his hat at us. "Tally-ho!" he calls.
What does that mean? Did I hear someone say that in a
movie, when some people on horses were chasing a fox? But, there are no foxes
around here! Does it mean something else? Maybe, a rhyme? Like, `Tally-ho, and
away you go'?
Where is Mr Grant? He's clever and knowledgeable. I
need him!
William `drives' the horses around the house and the
parked cars, then back past his studio and around the stables.
The horses hoofs sound together like a single horse. I
can't see them but they appear to be in time with each other. Clop-clop,
clop-clop.
Karl and I are interested in seeing Jacko's new `accommodation',
so William pulls the horses up at the end of the stables which is closer to the
house.
The others stay in the landau and William continues
back towards the house. Perhaps to allow Helen, Mrs Eriksson, and the girls to
have a ride.
I watch the horses prancing along, and I'm mesmerised
by the swaying of the hair around their hoofs.
Karl and I follow Jacko inside.
"So, this will be my home," he tells us.
It's not unlike one of our workers' huts, only
smaller. Two single beds, a shower and toilet, a table and two chairs, and an
area where Jacko can prepare some food for himself. Plus, room for all of his
belongings. Right next to the horses.
"We're not quite finished," Jacko says. "But it's nearly
there."
"Will you still come and visit us at Whispering Gums?"
Karl asks, hopefully.
I know why!
"Sure. If your Dad wants some work done," he answers.
"Or if I'm invited to dinner."
"I hope so," Karl tells him.
"Perhaps you could come and help around here
occasionally," Jacko tells him, smiling. Maybe even for a weekend or a couple
of days during school holidays. And, if you don't want to stay up in the big
house, there's an extra bed down here."
They grin, cheesily, at each other.
I imagine my brother exercising his new skill here
with Jacko. In bed.
Now's my chance!
"Guys," I say to them both. "There's something that I
want to say to you both, while we're alone together."
The grins fall off their faces.
I look directly at Jacko. "Do you remember when I said
that you shouldn't do anything with Karl unless my brother and I had done it
first?"
He cautiously answers, "Yes."
He and Karl look at each other. Are the expressions on
their faces what `anxiety' looks like?
I'm not going to ask why.
"Well," I tell him, and I also look at Karl, "There's
a few things that I need to say to you!"
Jacko looks guilty, but the expression on Karl's face
turns to anger and he opens his mouth to speak.
"Wait!" I tell him, holding up my hand. "The first
thing that I want to say, is that I'm sorry!"
Karl's face turns from red into fly-catching mode and
I gently reach out and lift his chin.
I continue, "I suppose you thought that I was being really
controlling."
Karl says, "Yes. You were! And it was like blackmail.
You threatened to dob on us if we did anything else."
"If that's what you thought," I tell him, "then I
really apologise.
I add, "Let me explain that, I actually thought that I
was protecting you. Because, I didn't know Jacko at all back then, nor what he
was like, and I just didn't want you to get hurt. That's all.
My brother doesn't speak. There is a pause, and then he
just throws his arms around me.
Jacko makes it a threesome. LOL.
"I'm not a little kid anymore, you know!" Karl tells
me.
I gently grasp the front of his jeans.
"No, you're not, I can tell!" I smile at him.
"No, he certainly isn't!" Jacko adds.
Karl and I both turn our gaze on him.
Did he just say too much? Karl gives him a death
stare!
I continue, "I have something else to say."
I have their attention.
"I want you guys to feel comfortable, enjoying yourselves
together. Whatever you like. With no interference from me!"
They stare at each other.
I see goofy grins grow on both of their faces. That same,
give-away, sexy smirk!
"But, I have a friendly warning," I tell them. "You two
will need to be careful of who might be around when you are playing with each
other. Remember when Anakin sprung you? Just think of what would happen if Dad found
out!"
We go back outside and I see the landau beginning to head
back this way. It stops at William's studio and some people get out. Then it comes
the extra distance to pick us up.
We are all given a `tour' of the studio. It's large.
There are separate areas that I notice. Closer to the
door are William's paintings and drawings – some hanging on the walls, some on
easels and some just stacked and leaning.
At the back, I can see all of William's paints,
crayons, brushes, paper, and an area to clean everything. One corner has an
easel, with a blank canvas set up, ready for use.
There are windows on both sides which allows a lot of
light in. And, it even has three windows in the roof, spread out; one near each
end and one in the middle.
William tells us, "I love this place. It has so much
natural light!"
He asks, "Mr Eriksson, would you like me to draw your
family?"
"Can you do that?" he replies. "Would that take a long
time?"
"No. It's easy!" William tells him. "All I need now is
for you all to pose how you would like me to draw you. Perhaps with Mrs
Eriksson seated, with you standing behind her to one side, with Ingrid and
Bjorn also standing. I'd like to chat with you in the house for a while so that
I can capture your faces before Tom takes you into The Village and shows you
the school. I'll work on it for about 90 minutes then I'll come and join you
for lunch at the pub."
Dad suggests, "Will, why don't you take a photograph
of them as you want them to pose? Would that help?"
William replies, "I don't normally copy photos, Mr
Andersen, but it might be useful on this occasion. I'll need to work fast if I
am to finish it in such a short time."
I can tell from the wrinkled expression on Mr
Eriksson's face that he probably thinks this will be a waste of time, or
perhaps a very amateurish result.
He's in for a shock!
"That would be lovely, darling," Mrs Eriksson tells
him, smiling. "You pose us where you want us."
She gives her husband a very stern look.
They try a few different poses, with William using his
phone to take some pictures.
With the photos in his phone, William only needs to have
conversations with them, and to observe them, to determine what personalities
to give to their faces.
He knows what he is doing.
I think of the painting that he did of all of us
school kids last year, and of the birthday cards that he has made for everyone.
I wonder if he will be able, having only just met them, to capture their four
characters, like he did with us!
"Can I stay and watch?" Karl asks.
My brother still hasn't learned the difference between
`Can I...?' and `May I...?'
Almost pleading for something, William looks towards
Mr Grant, who then tells my brother, "Karl, it's probably best that we leave
Will here to work, undisturbed. Is that OK?"
"Sure, Mr Grant," my brother replies, reluctantly. "If
you say so."
I'll bet that Karl had other things on his mind
besides watching William at work.
We all fit easily into our Rhino and Mr Grant's Beast.
William has his own car so that he can drive in to the pub when he's ready.
Mr Grant pulls up at the school gate and everyone
piles out of both cars. Helen has Melody and Mrs Eriksson has Margaret.
The gate isn't locked. Mr Grant told us that he could
see no reason to put a padlock on the gate because people could easily step
between the strands of wire if they really wanted to get in. We kids have known
that all along!
I'm really keen to show the Eriksson's my school, and
my seat, and my art on the wall in the craft room, and our sports equipment.
I wait for Mr Grant to lead the way.
"Is this the whole school?" Bjorn asks.
"Yes," Mr Grant tells him, and then, standing in front
of William's painting and pointing, he recites the names of all of us kids,
starting with Jane, Jake, Karl, and me; all the way down to little Eric.
"So, where do you reckon that I would sit?" Karl asks
Ingrid.
She looks around and chooses Jane's seat.
Karl and I burst out laughing. Haha! The deputy
sheriff's chair!
Bjorn gets it wrong too, but at least Jake's seat is a
lot closer than Jane's!
It takes less than five minutes to show everyone both
rooms.
Karl asks, "Who wants to see where we swim at the
weir?"
Bjorn and Ingrid are more interested than their
parents are, who stay to talk with Mr Grant.
Karl leads the four of us out, running.
We stop near our favourite log where we usually leave
our clothes to swim naked.
I love it here.
For a moment, I close my eyes and listen to the sounds
around me. Most obvious is the water cascading over the wall of the weir to the
river below. But there are other sounds: mostly buzzing insects. Then we hear a
pair of kookaburras. Are they laughing at us, or just reminding us that we have
entered their territory?
"Koo-ka-burra," I say, to answer a question from Ingrid.
"Like `cook – a – burra'.
"I heard those once before," she tells me. "The other
day. But, sometimes in jungle movies I've heard bird calls like that."
At that moment, the two birds noisily flap past us, coming
from upstream. They rest on a branch on the other side of the river and look at
us, then down at the ground, tilting their heads from side to side, as if to
get a better view of something."
Displaying some of my learned knowledge, I tell them,
"They are part of the kingfisher family of birds, and even though there are no
fish here, they do catch lizards and snakes."
We stand and watch them. Suddenly, one bird dives
straight down into the grass, then emerges with a small snake in its beak.
"Won't the snake bite it?" Ingrid asks, obviously very
concerned.
We don't need to answer, because the kookaburra,
holding the snake firmly in its large, strong beak, beats it constantly against
the branch of the tree, and manipulates it back and forth along its body in the
bird's massive beak, ensuring that its bones are crushed, until it is hanging as
limp as Junior in an icy cold shower.
When the Kookaburra is satisfied that the snake is
tender enough, he twists it around and gradually swallows it, head first.
Ingrid and Bjorn look shocked.
"As well as their really keen eyesight and incredibly
strong beaks," I tell them. "they obviously have a very strong stomach."
Brother and sister giggle politely.
Karl changes the subject. "We love to swim and muck
around here when it's really hot," he tells Bjorn and Ingrid. "And, we have a
secret hiding place behind that waterfall."
"Really?" Bjorn asks, showing extra interest. "What do
you do behind there?"
I'm not sure that Karl should tell Bjorn and Ingrid
everything that we do behind there!
Fortunately, he doesn't get to give Bjorn an answer,
because, unexpectedly, all of the adults arrive behind us.
Mrs Eriksson comments on the beauty of what she can
see and hear.
Dad and Helen answer questions about the brownness of
the water (I don't fully understand `red soil particles in suspension' but I
can guess.), the gum trees, the other `flora' and about the different bird
calls that we hear.
"We saw a kookaburra kill a snake and eat it!" Ingrid
tells her parents.
I can tell that Mr and Mrs Eriksson don't believe her.
They look at Bjorn, who nods.
They don't believe him either!
"It's true!" Karl tells them. He points to the two
birds, still in the tree on the opposite bank, then says, "It was the fat one!"
The kookaburras both let out long laughs, then fly farther
downstream.
It's a short walk from the weir to our new house,
along the river bank.
It's not joined to any others, as all of the rest are,
down each side of the street.
We can walk from our place to the village green and
then the school. Or, on the other side, we can go directly into Second street,
past the two adjoining (Maths!) houses at the river end, like ours.
Standing at our front door, we look directly down
First Street with its line of peppercorn trees. The windows on one side, and those
upstairs, overlook the Village Green, and the windows at the back look at the
gum trees and the river. Beautiful!
The one, large bedroom downstairs is perfect for Dad, Helen,
and the girls while they are still babies. However, I reckon that when they are
a bit bigger, they'll move into one of the two bedrooms upstairs if they are in
town here. Karl and I will be back to sharing a room here while still having
our separate rooms at Whispering Gums.
It's similar to our house at home," Bjorn tells us,
while their parents are upstairs. "Ingrid and I have our own rooms and our
parents are downstairs."
Mr and Mrs Eriksson are very complimentary about our
views.
Dad locks the door and, leaving the cars near the
school, we all walk towards the pub.
We are the first to arrive at the pub, if all of us
together can be first!
I know that we are also expecting Marty, his business
partner – the architect, Mr Cook, Marty's mother, and sister. And William.
The dining room looks amazing! It's so much brighter
than it was before they fixed it up. There are white, vertical (Maths!) boards
around the bottom one-third of the walls, with wall paper from there to the
ceiling. It is cream with a pattern of pale green gum leaves.
Mounted around the walls are the original brass lamps,
but with brighter light bulbs. Between each pair of lamps is one photograph of
how The Village was `in the olden days'. Some were the original photos but they
look as though they are clearer. I heard Marty say that Mr Cook (Ash) was going
to have them `restored'. There are also some `new' ones.
Mrs Smith asks everyone what they would like to drink.
While she is getting them, we move around, looking at
the photographs. Helen points out buildings which she remembers from when she
went to school here, most of which have since disappeared. Including William's
old house.
I like one, outside the pub, with two horses, like
William's Clydesdales, hitched up to a wagon that is loaded with what appears
to be sacks. And there are six men standing along the length of the wagon and
horses. Everything in the picture is brownish. No real colour.
Suddenly, Marty's sister, Anna, and their mother, rush into the room.
"Did I miss anything?" his mother asks.
Mr Grant introduces her around as `Mrs O'Brien'.
Marty's mum has a reputation around here as a busy
body! Even I've heard that!
She wants to know all about our farm stay guests, and immediately
begins speaking with them. I see Bjorn's head turn. He stares.
I can instantly tell why he is staring!
Marty and Mr Cook have arrived!
Mr Cook has his long hair tied back. It's neater than
Ingrid's!
He is wearing a black shirt with the three top white buttons
undone, revealing his chest muscles.
But it's his skin-tight cream pants which have caught
Bjorn's attention.
And mine. And Karl's. And Jacko's. And that of some
other people, including Mr Grant.
OMG. Mr Cook wouldn't want to get an erection in
those! Everyone would see it.
As it is, I reckon that I can see his... everything!
Not now, Junior! Go back to sleep!
And, I remember that William once commented that Mr
Cook had the world's cutest backside! OMG!
"Hello boys!" Marty says to Karl and me. "Don't tell
me. Let me guess which of you is which!" He thinks then points, "You're Karl
and you're Kurt!"
"Wrong!" my brother delights in telling him.
"So, who's this handsome friend of yours?" he asks,
extending his hand towards Bjorn.
Bjorn grins.
"This is Bjorn," I tell him. "He's from Sweden. His
sister, Ingrid, and his parents are over there talking to your mother."
"Talking?" Marty says. "They're more than likely hard
at it, answering all of Mum's questions,".
Marty says to Bjorn, "And, this is Mr Cook. He's an
architect."
"I'm pleased to meet you Bjorn," he says, shaking
Bjorn's hand, then holding onto it.
Hey! That's my trick; not letting go of a person's
hand, although, I haven't done that for a while! I remember gripping Mr Grant's
hand for so long that Dad said Mr Grant could give me a whack, anytime, on the
backside if I did that again.
And I do. And he does! LOL.
Hello, again, Kurt and Karl," Mr Cook greets us,
shaking our hands, but not holding on. "I can always tell you two apart,
even if Marty can't.
To us, Marty comments, "Ash and I have worked so well
together, with the buildings here in The Village and out at Jintabudjaree, that
he and I have decided to go into business together. `Cook and O'Brien'
specialising in heritage restorations."
Then, looking Bjorn up and down, Marty says to Karl
and me, "I hope that you three will be able to come for breakfast one morning
before your friend has to go home!"
Karl asks, "And I suppose that you'll be having sausages?"
"Of course!" he smirks. "You know what we have for
breakfast at my place."
I know about the breakfasts at Marty's. All males, and
all naked. All available sausages on display! Andy loves going there! So do I!
"You'll really enjoy one of Marty's breakfasts," I say
to Bjorn. Then I ask, "Mr Cook, will you be there for breakfast too?"
"I wouldn't miss it," he answers, finally releasing
Bjorn's hand. Then he adds, "Hey. We're not in school. Why don't you all call
me `Ash'? Like we're already friends."
Friends? With the world's cutest backside? And the
world's tightest pants? OMG! No! Not now Junior!
Marty comments, "We just need to work out which day,
and how to get you there. It shouldn't be too hard."
"Well," my brother says, "If we were staying at
Jintabudjaree, then maybe William could take us all down there."
I put on my thinking cap. "Or, if the three of us
could stay in our new house, just over there, at the end of First Street, then
it would be easy for William, or you, or Ash to drive us down."
Ash says, "Speaking of your new house, did Marty tell
you that he and I are going to be your neighbours? Marty's going to move from
down near his mother's place into one of the houses at the end of Second
Street." He adds, "Our business office will be the house next door to Marty's,
and I will live upstairs. And, both places are just about ready to move into."
"So," I comment, "We will only be a short walk away from
you and Marty!"
"Nice!" Karl says. And, I agree.
Ash says, "Excuse me. I need to take a pee."
"Me too," Bjorn says. "Can you please show me where it
is."
Karl and I look at each other, then at Marty, as two
pairs of glutes head towards the toilets. One `cute' and one `extremely
handsome'.
Marty says, quietly, "Don't worry about Bjorn. He'll
be OK in there with Ash."
I don't tell Marty what I am thinking – But, will Ash
be OK in there with Bjorn?
After very little time, just enough to take a good
pee, Ash returns.
We don't have to ask.
Ash grins, "Bjorn will be out soon. He's using lots of
cold water on his face and hands!"
(To be continued)
-----
If you like the story, and haven't said 'hello'
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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
-----
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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