Kurt

 

Life in The Village, through the eyes of a student at the remote school.
(This is a parallel story to "Schoolie", but through different eyes.)
This chapter aligns, partially, with Chapter 43 of "Schoolie".

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

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 24:

Karl and I change into our pyjamas and climb into bed. Dad kisses us and says, "I'm just ducking back to the pub for a bit to finish a conversation with Mr Grant, the helicopter pilot. OK?"

"OK," Karl and I answer together.

When we hear the door close, Karl visits my bed and two pairs of pyjama pants come down.

Even after Karl returns to his own bed, I never hear Dad come back before I fall asleep, even though I listen for him.

 

 

Chapter 25 = Wow!

It's Wednesday morning and, when Karl and I leave the house, there are already little kids and their parents near the school gate.

Mr Grant and William pull up. Mr Grant wishes everyone `good morning' then he asks William, who has the bunch of keys, to `open up' so that everyone can put their bags and lunches inside.

He begins collecting the permission notes. Dad had put ours on the kitchen bench so that we wouldn't forget it. Everyone is excited, including the parents who have come to enjoy the experience. Mr O'Brien, Jane and Jake's dad, is among them.

Mr O'Brien is talking with some of the other parents. Jake is talking with William. Jane is chatting with the little ones and their parents. Then the older Mr Grant arrives with Marty.

My Mr Grant introduces the other one to the parents and tells them that he is the pilot. He jokes about the two of them having the same name.

Mr O'Brien's expression seems a little more serious than that of the other parents. I look at Jane and Jake who are both in good moods, so they don't seem to be `in their father's bad books'. Maybe he just `got out of bed on the wrong side' this morning. I think how hard that would be for Karl and me, with our beds pushed against opposite walls. Yes, truly, I could be in a really bad mood if I even tried to get out on that side!

Marty offers to drive groups of three people at a time the few hundred metres to the helicopter then back to ensure that nobody is affected by stirred-up or settling dust. Mr Grant tells everyone that this morning's light easterly breeze will assist to blow any dust towards the west, away from us.

Marty takes the helicopter pilot across first, to get it ready.

Mr Grant asks everyone to get their chairs from the classroom so that they can watch everyone's rides, and so that we can all talk about how we feel. "Can the seniors also please get some chairs from the craft room for the parents?" That includes me.

David's mum thanks me for her chair.

We are all really excited!

David, his mum and little brother Eric go first. I'll bet that nobody will be able to shut David up after his ride!

 

I'm not wrong! And his mum's not far behind him! I'll be hearing, `OMG. That was fantastic!' in my sleep.

 

All of the little kids, and parents, have their turn.

I'm so ready when it's Karl's and my turn! I didn't expect Karl to let me sit up front next to the pilot. But he does. And I thank him. Mr Grant, the pilot, makes sure that our seat belts are properly secured, and explains that the headphones not only block out a lot of the engine noise, but will also enable us to talk to one another, through the little connected microphone.

Mr Grant closes the door.

The engine starts, and gets louder, even with my headphones on. Mr Grant moves the control stick and I see the ground drop away from under us. Or so it seems. My stomach feels funny! We rise a little and then the helicopter leans forward and starts to move away. We go higher and faster and follow the river down to Marty O'Brien's place. I can see clearly across the river where Karl and I went walking. And I can see the tree where I was hiding from him, playing possum. LOL.

We go higher. I can see way down the road that goes to Big Town and some other houses. We turn, and go higher. Mr Grant takes the helicopter around in circles, like he did for the others. We are over The Village. I can see our house, and the weir, and the pub and the black remains of where William's house burnt down. And I can see the school and all of the kids and parents. Mr Grant, my Mr Grant, is waving. I wave back as we get lower and we land right where we started from.

The rotor blades finally stop and the dust settles before Mr Grant opens the door to let us get out.

Wow! This was so exciting that I had an uncontrollable moment up there. LOL. Right after we took off.

I thank our pilot.

Marty drives us back to the school, past a whole lot of people at the pub who have been watching the helicopter go up and come down, and the procession of its passengers, from and back to the school.

When Jane, Jake and their father have their turn, the helicopter doesn't come straight back. It goes out towards their place, Thunungara, before returning.

It seems that everyone has had a ride. Almost.

David calls out, over all of the excited discussion, "What about you, Mr Grant? Aren't you going to have a ride too? And William?"

He replies, "That would be nice, David, but I can't exactly leave you all here alone, can I?"

David, as usual, has a quick answer, "We're not alone, Mr Grant. My mum's here!"

"Go on!" one of the parents encourages. "It's not as though we don't know how to look after children!" All of the others agree, and all of us children cheer him on.

Mr Grant gives in, eventually. And says to the parents, "OK, then. Thank you. Come on, William!"

They both get into Marty's SUV and head down to the helicopter. It doesn't do what it did with all of us. The pilot takes it straight up into the air. Way up! I have to sit down and lean my head back to watch it.

Then, it heads west. Out of sight.

"Where are they going, Dad?" Jake asks Mr O'Brien.

"I don't know, son," he replies. "But, there's nothing out there. Nothing good, anyway."

Some of the parents frown and mutter to each other but I can't hear exactly what they are saying. What did Mr O'Brien mean that there is nothing good out there? Is there something bad? I'll have to ask my Dad.

 

Marty's SUV comes back. Marty, William, Mr Grant, our teacher, and Mr Grant, the pilot, get out. We all clap and cheer, children and parents.

Some of the parents help us `seniors' return chairs to the craft room, then they say goodbye to their children. A couple of mums hang around outside the gate and keep talking for a few minutes.

Jane takes charge of the kids all getting their chairs back inside. "William and I won't be long," Mr Grant tells her. "We're just going to say goodbye to our other visitors, Ms O'Sullivan and Mr Cook." Marty drives them back to the pub.

Mr Grant and William are back in a few minutes. They stay out on the verandah and it's not long before we hear the helicopter start up again. Then we hear it take off and head out in the direction of Thunungara. Pretty soon we can't hear it any more.

Mr Grant and William come in off the verandah and then we all talk about what we saw and how we felt in the helicopter. Most people talk about how noisy it was and how `cool' it was to have headphones to talk to the pilot and their parents. Suzanna says that it smelled really awful.

One of the things that people loved was that the pilot had asked each of them where they lived then flew them over their own home, most were down along the road to Big Town.

David tells us, "And, my mum said that she was so excited that she nearly peed herself." Everyone laughs and we move on.

The little kids draw pictures of themselves and the helicopter. We seniors write about the whole experience. I include how my stomach felt, but not how Junior reacted. William produces an amazing picture, in pencil, of all of us waving goodbye to the helicopter. I can pick out exactly who each of us is. I can even see the pilot, Mr Grant's face inside the helicopter, waving to us.

 

It's been a great day. Karl and I go to Mr Grant and ask whether William is allowed to come to our place for a while after school. "Yes, he may," Mr Grant replies. He calls William over. "If you go with Karl and Kurt, I'll go down to the pub to thank Julie Smith for everything." Then he asks us, "Did you guys enjoy dinner last night?"

The three of us look at each other. The look is enough.

"Hell, Yeah!" we all answer in unison, then burst out laughing at the expression on Mr Grant's face.

Karl adds, "Dad really liked it too. He stayed with us for a while and then said that he was going back to talk some more about the work. They must have talked for a really long time, because he didn't come home until it was nearly morning."

That produces a strange expression on Mr Grant's face.

Then he smiles when William and Karl take off, leaving me to lag behind. Mr Grant helps my tail out of the door. Firmly, but much more gently than Dad's hand did last night! I'm really happy.

As I pass some parents at the gate, I can hear the excited conversations that include `the helicopter'. I catch up to the other two near our front door.

We start with some friendly wrestling and gentle groping. When there are three erections being played with, William offers to jack Karl off first today instead of me, so I can watch them. I'm OK with that.

Our shorts all come off to reveal excited tools, standing in hair. William has a real jungle down there while Karl's and my `chicken feathers' are coming along nicely!

Karl and William sit side by side on Karl's bed. I sit on mine. They start to play with each other and I'm happy to play with myself, but not too fast. When I finally spurt, I want William to do it.

We've all learned that a slow wank is better than a quick one. It feels better if it lasts longer. And, if I stop soon enough without spurting, I can last even longer. And it's best when just I can't hang on any longer. Like busting for a pee. It's so terrific when I finally let go!

Suddenly, I hear Mr Grant's car outside. "Quick!" William says. "Stall him! We're not done here yet!"

So, I grab my shorts and yank them up quickly and dash out onto the verandah. I have to put my hand down the front to get Junior into a more comfortable position. My shorts aren't pulled up properly and they're twisted somehow.

I call out, "Hi Mr Grant," and jump down from the verandah to talk to him before he can come inside and see what William and Karl are doing.

I get close to Mr Grant and he looks different. Not happy. I wonder what could have happened. He was really happy when he swatted me on the tail, and said he was just going over to the pub to thank Mrs Smith.

I have to ask, "Are you OK, Mr Grant?" I feel the smile drop off my face and I take my hand out of my shorts. Junior is still hard, but I don't care if Mr Grant sees it. It might cheer him up.

He looks at it. But it doesn't seem to make him any happier. He looks at my eyes and says, "Thank you, Kurt. Yes, I'm fine. Would you please tell William that I'm here?"

He gets out of the car and leans against it. I don't believe that he's fine at all! Something has happened to him in the pub. I can tell. William doesn't like that place either!

"Sure, Mr Grant," I say, quietly. I walk slowly back up the steps and onto the verandah, wondering what could be wrong. What could have changed in such a short time? I turn and look at him, at his sad face, then go inside.

"You guys nearly done?" I ask without going into the bedroom.

"Not yet!" Karl says.

I go back outside. I look back over my shoulder when I hear William call, "Tell him that I won't be long".

As I walk down towards Mr Grant, I say, "William said to tell you that he won't be long."

I stop right in front of him. "Are you sure you're OK, Mr Grant?" I ask him again. "You look sad."

When I'm sad, my Dad gives me a hug. So, I do the same to Mr Grant. I put my arms around him and squeeze him. I lean my head on his chest just under his chin. I look up at his face and it looks like he is going to cry.

"It'll be all right, Mr Grant," I say. "That's what my Dad tells me when I'm sad. And, usually it turns out that way."

He puts one arm around my shoulders and holds my head against him with his other hand. He just says, "Thank you, Kurt." I feel that something is hurting inside him and I hug him tighter.

"William is just helping Karl with something... you know!" I say to him. That makes him smirk. I guess that he knows what's going on.

"Did he help you too, Kurt?" Mr Grant asks, smirking at me. Yeah. He knows!

"No, not yet, Mr Grant." I reply. "I was just watching them. It was going to be my turn second today for some reason. It was fun watching them though. I let Karl go first today. It was William's idea."

Then he shocks me! He asks quietly, "Would you like me to help you today, Kurt, instead of William doing it?"

Junior starts doing push-up against Mr Grant's leg. "Oh, yes, Mr Grant! Would you? Please? Thank you."

He smiles and says, "Then, go and tell William and Karl that they don't need to hurry, and that you and I will talk until they are ready. Then you can meet me around that side of your house." He nods to the one facing the river. Around there, nobody could see us from the pub.

Yes! He's gonna do it! Thank you, birthday wish granter!

I dash up the path, taking only one step on the verandah before I'm inside the door. I quickly convey Mr Grant's message them. I hear them both answer then I swing around and head to where Mr Grant said he would wait for me.

I tell Mr Grant, "Karl says `thank you' and William says that `it's about bloody time!' so maybe they both have an idea that you're gonna do something with me," I laugh. He laughs too, because it's true.

I'm not quite sure where to stand and how to start. Neither does Mr Grant. So, he leans his back against the house and opens his arms to me to come and hug him.

Where we are is OK because it's between the kitchen and bathroom windows. Nobody can see us. William and Karl can't hear anything either because our bedroom window is on the other wall, facing the school.

I stand between his legs, sort of sideways and lean against the inside of his left thigh. Junior is happy and I push it against Mr Grant's leg. As I push more, Mr Grant puts his right hand on my often-swatted butt and encourages my pushing. This feels terrific.

I guess that Mr Grant thinks so too, because I can feel something hard pressing against my hip. I stop pushing and feel for it in the front of Mr Grant's pants. Yep. Just as I thought! I ask him, "Are you happy now, Mr Grant?"

"Yes, I am, Kurt. Thank you!" he says.

He takes hold of my shoulders and turns me so that my backside is leaning right against his body. He hugs me and rests his head on mine, then rubs my chest and stomach under my shirt. His hands get lower and lower until he finally encounters Junior, stiff from excitement. It jerks as Mr Grant takes hold of it and rubs it, just like Ron would have done. I push against his hand and Junior loves it.

I lean back hard against Mr Grant's pants and feel the hardness inside. He pushes it against my `nice glutes'. Then I put my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and push them right down to my feet. No undies! They're still on the floor in my bedroom. Oh, well, one less layer to worry about. Mr Grant holds Junior and my balls with just one hand and uses his thumb to rub my pubic hair, my `chicken feathers'. His other arm is around my chest. I think I let out a moan of pleasure. I love the feeling of the way that he's holding me.

We're finally doing it. Like I have dreamed. Like we did in the classroom, but without needing to pretend that we're just playing a game. This is for real. Just doing it. I knew that he wanted me, like I want him.

I lean forward and put my hands behind me to locate the position of his hardness and I take hold, as much as his tight pants allow me to. And I lean my body back again. When Mr Grant's cock does a push-up, Junior does one too. Every time that Mr Grant's jumps, Junior does. I think that he's making it happen on purpose, and that he's enjoying causing Junior to jump in his hand!

Mr Grant starts to rub my naked Junior up and down and I push into his hand with every downstroke.

He takes his hand away to his mouth then brings it back. I push Junior into it again. It's slippery. "Oooh!" I tell him. "I like that!" He continues to rub Junior up and down with his slippery hand and I feel some of my own pre-cum oil add to the slipperiness. He rubs and I push.

This is feeling amazing! Suddenly, I know what's going to happen, and I start to push really fast while Mr Grant keeps his hand still. "Go slower!" he whispers in my ear.

"Can't!" I tell him, panting, and I keep pushing, and moaning because it feels so good. And it's not Karl, or William, or Ron. It's Mr Grant, my Christmas wish, and my birthday wish is coming true! It's coming true. It's coming...

It happens. My body freezes while Junior pumps out his stuff. Mr Grant doesn't move his hand and just lets Junior go on jerking and spurting.

I suddenly realise that I'm still holding Mr Grant's cock in his pants when it starts to jerk too. My hand is right near the end of it and I feel an unexpected wetness.

I'm almost too embarrassed to ask. "Mr Grant, did you just...?"

He laughs, holding his cheek against the side of my face, "Yes, I did, Kurt! Thanks to you."

"Wow," I say to him, "you were nearly as quick as me."

He tells me, "I think you'd enjoy it more if you slowed down."

I know that he's right, like Ron told me, but it was impossible to slow down just now. I was way too excited, doing this with Mr Grant, and I couldn't stop myself. I just say, "It's all good, Mr Grant."

Then I'm not sure what we're going to do next. In the classroom there were tissues. In my bedroom there is my spunk rag. In the shower, it doesn't matter.

I spurted so much stuff that it's run out of Mr Grant's hand and right down my chicken feathers to my balls. Mr Grant's hand is covered in it too. He shakes his hand and flicks a lot of it off. Then he does something that I would never have thought of. He licks his hand. Ewww!

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

"It's not that bad, really," he says, and licks it again.

Then, he moves his hand to my mouth. What? He wants me to do it? To lick my spunk off his hand? Well, if he can do it, I suppose that I'll try it. I take a quick lick and automatically wrinkle my nose at him. I thought it would taste awful, like shit or something. I tell him, "It tastes sort of... weird, but It's OK, I suppose." and I lick it again."

 

"I tell you what, Kurt," he says, smiling. "If you lick it all off my hand, I'll clean you up down below the same way."

"What? You're gonna lick the stuff off my cock?" I ask, sort of shocked. But then I remember that maybe Ron was thinking of taking my cock into his mouth once, but he never did. So, Mr Grant's actually gonna do it? Suck my dick? William and Karl have never suggested doing that!

"Trust me," he says.

If he's happy to lick my spunk off me, then I'm prepared to lick his hand clean. After all, it's my stuff!

I take hold of his hand and pretend that I'm licking the gravy off my hand after eating fried chicken. Except, it's his hand, and it doesn't taste as sweet as gravy! When I'm finished, I ask him, "Is that OK, Mr Grant?"

"Perfect," he tells me. I smile. So does he. "Now stand still," he says.

He kneels, opens his mouth wide and gently takes Junior right inside then closes his lips around it and sucks right to the end.

I go weak at the knees and shudder at the sensation. "Oh, shit!" I squeak, then apologise for my language.

"Did I hurt you, Kurt?" he asks, looking up and sounding concerned.

"Oh, no, Mr Grant," I tell him. "It just felt really good."

"Then keep still!" he tells me again. He uses his tongue and his lips to remove every trace of spunk from my dick, my hairs and balls. He takes first one and then the other of my balls into his mouth, gently. By the time he's finished, Junior has gone from almost soft to absolutely stiff again.

I have to tell him, "Mr Grant, if you keep doing that, I think that I might shoot again. It feels so good."

"You like that?" he asks me, standing up. He ruffles my hair.

"Hell Yeah!" I tell him, smiling into his eyes. "Can you do it again? Please."

"Maybe another time, Kurt. OK?" he tells me, ruffling my hair again. Then he reaches down and carefully pulls my shorts back up, tucking a still-hard Junior inside for me. He pulls the back up over my glutes, squeezes them and then gives each side a friendly swat.

"Oh, thank you, Mr Grant," I tell him and give him a hug. He wraps his arms around me too.

I did just hear him say that he would like to do it again! Sometime. Another time?

I step back and look at the dark patch on the front of his pants. "You're all wet," I say, almost whispering to him, feeling pretty embarrassed for him. Then I wonder what William is going to say. What will he think of Mr Grant? And of me?

As if he can read my thoughts, Mr Grant says, "It's OK. I'll wait in the car so that William can't see it. Can you please go in and see if he's ready yet?"

I feel great. I want to hug him again. So, I do. Then I leave him to `fix himself up' and I dash around the corner, up onto the verandah and inside. I'll make sure that he has enough time to get back into the car. It's starting to get dark, so that should help him hide his wet patch. He can either put his hands over it, or, what I'd do, is pull out my shirt so that it was fully covering the front of my pants! His choice. He can't cover it with his hands if he's driving.

"You guys done yet?" I call inside the house, without going into the bedroom.

"Karl is. But I'm not. Not yet, but almost." I hear from William's slightly strained voice.

I say, "You'd better hurry up, `cause Mr Grant and I have run out of things to talk about!"

As I walk out of the door, I hear, "... Aaargh! Yes!"

OK! They won't be long, now.

I skip down the path towards Mr Grant's car. He appears to look around me, both sides, expecting to see William.

"What's wrong?" he asks, "Isn't Karl done yet?"

I have to try hard not to laugh too loudly. "Yes, but William wasn't, but almost is now. And I told them to get a move on because you and I have run out of things to talk about."

Mr Grant puts his arm out of the window, with a closed fist. I bump it with my own. "Nice work, sport," he says.

I feel my face give him a huge grin.

While William is `cleaning up', I talk to Mr Grant about the helicopter ride and especially how my stomach felt as we went up, and how amazing everything looked from up in the sky.

When William and Karl come out, I can see that they are both still pretty chunky. I'll bet that Mr Grant notices it too. But he doesn't comment. Maybe he'll say something to William on the way home.

While Karl stays on the verandah, William heads straight for me, and ruffles my hair. Why does everyone like doing that to me? Anyway, I love it!

"Sorry, mate!" William whispers. "Maybe I can give you a turn tomorrow. OK?"

"You'd better!" I tell him and pout to show my pretend disappointment at not being jerked off by him. I punch his shoulder too, as if to emphasise my point. Behind my pout, my brain is silently laughing! Laughing because I have been jerked off already. And laughing even more, because the one who did it was Mr Grant.

William walks around to the passenger's seat and I give Mr Grant a huge wink that nobody except him can see.

I stand, with my arms crossed, and continue to give William the `evil eye' of disappointment through the car window. Mr Grant smirks at me.

He toots as he and William drive off.

Then I turn and face Karl. "OK. Spill the beans!" he tells me. "What did you do with Mr Grant?"

"We talked about lots of stuff," I reply, walking back to the verandah.

When I step up to his level, he grabs my crotch. "Hey! What are you doing?" I ask him.

"Just checking!" he answers.

I feel his crotch in return. Yep. Still quite chunky. I know exactly what Karl was checking for! I'm glad that Junior went down again pretty quickly after Mr Grant pulled my shorts up!

"You're hopeless!" Karl says, as we go inside together. "You're always telling William and me that you'd like to muck around with Mr Grant, like William and I do, but when you get the perfect opportunity, nothing happens!"

"Just because I'd like to muck around with Mr Grant, doesn't mean he'd be willing to do it with me, you know," I tell Karl.

"Yeah, well, William thinks that he might, but you'd have to make the first move, because he knows that Mr Grant wouldn't."

"And how would William know that?" I put to him, in a tone that implies it's the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard.

For a moment he seems stunned. Then he begins, "Here we go again! Was Mr Grant OK with you mistakenly grabbing him in the weir instead of William?"

He doesn't wait for an answer. "And was he willing to let you grab him when we were playing `horse and rider wrestling'?"

I start nodding and humming positive answers. "And, when we did it again and the four of us were naked, was he OK when you and him got to play with each other for a while?"

This time he gets a `Yes.'

"And he was stiff too, wasn't he?" he adds.

"Umm, yes." I say.

"There you go! All green lights. He's willing to muck around with you. But because he's a teacher he can't make the first move, or he'd be in trouble. Do you get it now?"

"What would happen if somebody found out?" I ask. I think I know, but I want to hear it from someone else. Mr Grant told me that if anyone found out, the answer to my Christmas wish could disappear!

"Who would say anything?" Karl puts to me. "Not him. Not you. Not me. Not William."

"But, what would happen if somebody DID find out?" I still want to know.

"They'd probably put him in prison then hang him!" he replies.

"Then I'm never gonna muck around with him," I say. "I don't want him to die! I want him to stay here."

Karl's response to that is, "All I'm saying is if there is an opportunity, check out if he wants to do anything. That's all."

I think to myself that I'll just let Karl and William think that nothing has happened or is not gonna happen. And I'm getting good at keeping secrets, and inventing stories to send people's thoughts down a different track. And I wouldn't want Ron to get into trouble either, even though he's not a teacher.

When we go inside and start to get things ready for dinner, Karl walks up behind me and reaches around to get a hold of Junior and my balls. "Hey, I'll jerk you off now if you like. I know that William and I had fun and you missed out. Sorry about that."

"Tonight!" I tell him. "Besides, I don't think that I could spurt now and then again tonight, like you and William do twice." Another diversion. "So, right now, let's just get dinner on. It's getting late."

I keep thinking of what Mr Grant did to `clean me up'. Even though it felt terrific, I could never ask Karl to do that to me, or me do it to him. He'd work out straight away who I'd learned that idea from!

 

While he's jerking me after lights out, I think of Mr Grant doing it to me, and how he sucked me clean. I have another massive spurt. Luckily Karl has his spunk rag ready. Karl says, "Yeah. Once a day seems to be your limit! But, it's a good one!"

He's bought my lie! I just hope that William doesn't ask Mr Grant too many questions. Why would he?

Karl gets his second `hand job' for the day. And we both sleep well.

 

(to be continued)

 

The parallel version to this story, is told through the eyes of Tom Grant, the `Schoolie'.
Find it at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie

If you'd like a full picture of their lives and thoughts, you should read both concurrently.

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