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 44 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 25:

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.

 

 

Chapter 26 – Mr Grant Doesn't Like Me!

Thursday is just another normal school day, except, Mr Grant is wearing a different pair of trousers. LOL.

At the end of lunchtime, while William and I are in the toilet together, he says to me, "You first this afternoon, mate. OK?"

I want to ask him about why he thinks that Mr Grant might be willing to muck around with me, but something different comes out, "Does Mr Grant know what you do with Karl and me after school?"

"Of course he does," he answers.

"How come?" I ask, appearing stunned. "Did you tell him?"

"He asked me straight out, and I told him the truth. Remember that he had already seen you and Karl and me doing stuff in the weir."

"And he's OK with you and us jerking each other off?" I ask.

"Why wouldn't he be?" William answers. "We had a serious talk about `things' and he told me that he remembers being our age once, and he knows what boys like to do."

I start to ask him a question which has been thumping around in my head. "Do you and Mr Grant ever..."

Then I stop, and think. Maybe I don't really want to know the answer to that one, so I add a different ending, "...talk about Karl and me?"

He is about to answer when my brother comes into the toilet. "Did I hear my name mentioned? What's happening?"

"Well, I'm done," I say, tucking Junior back inside. "I'll leave you both to it."

As I head back, I wait on the outside, to hear any discussion between the two of them. William starts off telling Karl, in answer to a question, that he said that he'll do me first this afternoon because he spent all of his time with Karl yesterday. I think that William can spin a yarn as well as I can. I smile and skip back towards the building.

I know that William had already finished peeing when I left, so he must have just waited for Karl, and they walk back together.

William tells me that he can drive Mr Grant's car back to Marty's after coming to our place after school, because he has arranged for Marty to pick up Mr Grant. He told Marty that he is teaching Karl and me to play computer games on his tablet, and he doesn't know how long it will take.

Is he a good liar, or just a good yarn spinner? Or what?

 

William drives. Karl and I take the short cut. By the time William comes into the house, Junior is already expecting him. LOL.

I close my eyes and pretend that William's hand belongs to Mr Grant, and the inevitable happens quickly, even when I tell William to slow down to make the feeling last longer.

"I'd better show you guys a couple of games, in case Mr Grant asks you tomorrow what you played this afternoon," William says. "Then, you can actually tell him your favourite one."

And we all used to think that William wasn't smart, just because he didn't read too well!

We spend about half an hour going through a couple. "Do you reckon you can do this one, solo, for a while?" William asks me.

"Sure!" I tell him. He hands me the tablet, and I sit with it on my bed while he and my brother start playing with each other's erection.

Suddenly, Karl stops what he's doing to William and asks me, "Have you and Mr Grant ever mucked around? You keep talking about it. Have you ever done anything? You can't just go on dreaming all the time of doing stuff!"

"I thought that we had this discussion yesterday!" I tell him. I wonder why he's asking me this, today? In front of William!

Then, as I think about how wonderful it would be to have Mr Grant with me now, I burst into tears. Exaggerated crying.

Karl says, "What's wrong?"

William jumps off Karl's bed and hugs me. "Did Mr Grant hurt you, or something?"

I think that I can use my emotion to my advantage. And Mr Grant's!

I mumble, "I think Mr Grant doesn't like me."

"What?" Karl and William say together.

"I've tried to get him to like me, and asked him, but he won't do anything. He said that it would be unprofessional and illegal, and that they would put him in jail! Maybe even torture him or kill him."

I look at them. They're buying it.

"Let Karl and me talk about it," William encourages me. "to see if we can think of a way of getting Mr Grant to change his mind." Then he adds, "Why don't you go and finish your game out in the living room? All this misery is making me go soft!"

So, I thank William and leave him and Karl in the bedroom. I take the tablet to the living area and make myself comfortable in Dad's favourite chair. Smiling.

I can tell from the noises when they are both done! Karl first. Then William. Then Karl for the second time. Wow. That's not impossible though, because I think that I could have cum again myself yesterday, if Mr Grant had kept sucking me!

Anyway, I know that Karl won't want me to do it for him tonight! Not three times in a couple of hours! And I don't remember William ever saying that he had done that, either.

And, I reckon, I'm getting pretty good at this car racing game!

As William leaves, he comments, "I opened the window in your bedroom. I think that you guys had better start using a deodorant. Even if you don't need it, your room does." He laughs.

I only have to walk to my bedroom door to understand what he means. "Better pull the door almost shut," I say to Karl. "So that Dad doesn't ask any questions about the smell. I hadn't noticed it before. Do you think that Dad has?"

 

There is no comment from Dad after dinner when he reads us another chapter of Huckleberry Finn. I watch him carefully. He doesn't even make sniffing gestures; you know the way adults do if they suspect anything?

I decide to raise the issue, as innocently as I can. "Dad, how come, when you work all day, that you don't smell of perspiration?"

He looks unprepared to answer a personal question, but does pretty well. "I, umm, always wash, sometimes shower, before I come home." Then he asks the inevitable: "Why?"

"At school," I begin, "Mr Grant smells good, and William has told us that he has started to use a `deodorant' too. He says that it's better to smell good rather than like an animal. He didn't say which animal, but some of them can smell pretty bad, can't they?"

"So, what are you telling me, or asking me, exactly?" Dad asks. He looks from me to Karl.

Karl takes my lead. "Dad, we have our shower at night, so we are clean when we go to bed, but sometimes Kurt doesn't smell as fresh when he wakes up. Maybe because he farts a lot at night."

I give my brother the `evil eye' of hatred, accompanied by an appropriate pout. He's lucky that Dad's here, or he'd get `the finger', maybe even my whole fist! Dad looks back at me, with a bit of a smirk.

I'm not continuing down that line! I put it simply, "Dad, could you please buy us some deodorant the next time you are in Big Town?"

"Well," Dad says, "You guys sure are growing up. I guess that it's time that you started to think more about your bodies. I suppose you'll want to start shaving next!" He rubs my chin. "Well, maybe not just yet," he adds. "OK. Why don't you come with me and you can pick out which one you want? You can both have the same or different ones."

Karl and I look at each other. Without even discussing it, our twin minds agree. "Same," we reply together.

It's not just a twin thing to be similar, as Dad might think. If we have the same-smelling deodorant, it won't matter which one we use, to make sure that our room smells like us, and not like it did earlier!

He kisses us good-night and, as if to get even with my brother for me, he says, when he's with Karl, "Yes, I see what you mean! Deodorant's on the shopping list."

Karl looks stunned. I laugh. He frowns.

Dad ruffles both our hair, and winks at me. "Good night, boys."

"Good night, Dad!" we say together.

I love my Dad.

 

I wake up and it's not the usual sunny day. Our bedroom window faces the east and I'm used to having sunlight come in and warm me, or at least brighten the room.

Today, Friday, is grey. Dark, like it's still too early to wake up. I look at my watch. No, it's the right time!

I get out of bed and look outside. It's cooler than usual and very cloudy. Almost like it's going to rain. Rain! "Karl!" I say, shaking him. "I think that it might be going to rain!"

 

(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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