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 47 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 27:

After lights out, Karl asks whether I'd like him to jerk me off, seeing that William didn't do it today.

"No, it's OK, but thanks!" I tell him. "I think I'll save it up for tomorrow, and give William a surprise at how much I can spurt!"

We both laugh, talk for a bit and I fall slowly asleep, very happy, thinking about what I did today with Mr Grant!

 

 

Chapter 28 – Caught in the Act

 

Karl and I do our Saturday morning jobs, with Dad away up at Whispering Gums for something urgent.

We are taking a late morning break for coffee and donuts (thanks, Mrs Cameron!) when William arrives in Mr Grant's car. He quickly helps us reduce a large quantity of her generosity!

"What's happening?" Karl asks William.

"Something weird's going on," he replies. "Mr Grant's been acting very strangely after doing some horse-riding with Jake's dad, and says that he has a big surprise for everyone."

"What sort of a surprise?" I ask, thinking that he might be going to do some rodeo stunts or ride a bronco.

"Dunno," William says, shaking his head. "He said that he had to do a bit of unfinished work over at the school and told me to come and pick him up when he puts up one of the blinds, maybe in about 15 minutes, then he'll tell everyone what's happening."

I have a thought.

"Would you guys like to be left alone for a while?" I put to the both of them.

"Why? What are you going to do?" Karl asks.

"Yeah," William adds. "I thought that you wanted me to play with you today. That's the reason that I'm here."

"OK. But maybe later," I tell him. "This afternoon would be terrific." Then I casually say, "I might wander over to the school and chat with Mr Grant for a while. Maybe he'll tell me his surprise news. Have fun, you two!"

"Thanks," they both say. I expected them to be more suspicious of what I was going to do at the school, but they smile at each other, goofy-like, instead. And I know why!

Then, "Yeah. You too!" William calls after me. Is he being a smart arse, or can he read my mind?

Without appearing too eager, I take the shortcut, walk along the verandah and stop at the door.

I knock and call out, "Hi, Mr Grant. May I come in?"

"Sure, Kurt. Come on in!" Mr Grant says, smiling.

I go in, slowly, close the door behind me and look into Mr Grant's face. His grin is all the reassurance that I need.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he says, very politely, as if he couldn't already tell from Junior's bulging outline in my shorts, which he glances at. Actually, he takes more of a good look than a quick glance.

I walk towards his desk and he swivels his chair around so that I can stand in front of him, between his parted knees. I follow his eyes as he conducts a closer inspection of my shorts. Then I stare into his eyes and say to him, whispering, like telling him a secret, "We don't have long, I think."

Almost instinctively, I look at the front of his pants when a bulge there jerks as if to attract my attention. "You too, huh?" I ask him.

His response is to open his legs wider and slide forward a little in his chair so that, when I move in close, our two bulges are able to meet. He ruffles my hair and hugs me with his legs.

Then, as he relaxes his legs, I step back and drop my shorts. "You gonna take yours off too?" I ask him, hoping that he will.

I step back to allow him room to stand; he drops his trousers too.

He sits back down and I move back in, close, again and put my hands on his bare thighs. He reaches around me and grasps my glutes, then pulls me against his body. We start rubbing against each other. This feels so good without my shorts and without his trousers.

I take hold of Junior and move the wet patch on my undies up to meet his, like getting them to shake hands, or kiss. Then I start to rub Junior backwards and forwards across his stiffness. I take my eyes off Junior and stare at Mr Grant's face. He smiles at me.

That's encouraging! I take hold of his cock and, like when we were playing that game yesterday, give it a friendly squeeze. He shudders and his wet patch spreads.

Mr Grant almost looks guilty, even though it's really me doing everything. Then he puts his thumbs into the waistband of my undies and starts to take them down slowly, staring into my eyes, probably to check whether I'm upset or something. As if!

Then I follow to where his eyes are focussing. My pubic hair becomes visible, then as he continues to slide my undies down, Junior gets trapped and is pulled down until it is pointing straight out, at him. He continues to pull them downward until Junior snaps free and jumps up against my stomach. That makes me giggle.

Now, I'm not going to say anything. I just stare at him. First at his eyes, then his undies. Then his eyes again. He gets it, and stands up. He starts lowering his own underpants in the same way as he did mine. Slowly. Curly pubic hair then a big, straining cock which finally springs free and upwards. At the same time a blob of pre-cum flicks up, just missing my face. I think of Ron's blob landing on my shoulder when I did something similar to him, and I have to chuckle. It's funny just looking at Mr Grant's shocked face. Or is he embarrassed?

In any case, he reaches for my balls and plays with them, with just one hand.

Mr Grant is now taking the lead. So, I have one more thing to do. I turn my palm upwards and reach for him, he nods then lifts his body and, as he sits on the edge of his seat and lays his balls on my hand. They feel heavy.

Then, everything that he does, I copy. He takes Junior in his other hand. His sliding actions are firm and slow. (Obviously, Ron isn't the only one who likes to do it this way!) My production of precum even copies his own and our hands are both slippery now. He speeds up. Me too. He slows down. Me too. He squeezes. Copy that! Haha! And he laughs.

This is great fun! My birthday wish is continuing to come true, and it's turning out even better than I had ever imagined that it could.

I feel things begin to happen. My balls tingle. I can't breathe properly. My body starts to shake.

Mr Grant grabs tissues from the box on his desk as I start to pump and slide Junior into his slippery hand. Oooh! It feels so good. It's starting to happen! I freeze and wait for the volcanic eruption.

And it happens. Aargh! Yes!

Mr Grant gets it all in the tissues. He hugs me while my body gradually returns to almost normal. I'm holding him and I even squeezed him tightly while I was spurting.

He takes control of my hand and manipulates it to continue jacking himself off. "Ooh, Kurt!" he moans.

When he grabs another handful of tissues, I know that he is close. I put out my free hand for them and tell him, "I want to feel you shoot, Mr Grant." He starts to take big breaths and continues to use my hand, slower and tighter.

"Now!" he says, and I hold his cock with two hands, the slippery one on his shaft and the one with the tissues at the spurty end.

And he does! And twitches. And groans. And hums. Then breathes again.

"Kurt!" he says, and squeezes Junior.

"Mr Grant!" I reply, and squeeze him too.

We both laugh, at this different version of our pointing-and-naming game. Squeezing instead of pointing. Speaking instead of just mouthing.

We clean ourselves up and pull our clothes back on. We hug and thank each other then, taking the tissues, we head for the toilet.

We pee together. Side by side. William's twin and Karl's twin; my Christmas wish and me!

 

As we walk back towards the building I suggest, "Mr Grant, do you want to sneak up on Karl and William and see what they're doing?"

"You mean spy on them?" he asks.

"Not exactly," I try to make out. "It would be more like going home early and looking through the window to check what is going on inside."

"You actually mean spying on them!" he says.

"Yeah, well, I like my version better!" I laugh. "Besides, if we see what they are doing then it should be OK for you and me to do the same stuff, whatever that might be, don't you think?"

"I think that, maybe, after what we did yesterday afternoon, we might even be one step ahead of them Kurt," he tells me, then sucks his middle finger in and out to make sure that I get what he means.

"Oh, Yeah," I giggle. "Well, I won't tell if you don't."

And, I know that he won't!

Mr Grant asks, "By the way, would you like to know what William said after he got me to tell him exactly what we did yesterday, as you suggested?"

"Oh, yeah," I answer. "I was wondering about that."

"Well, after I told him everything," Mr Grant begins, "William said to me, and his exact words were, `You're a bloody awful liar! You did no fucking anything of the sort!' I just looked at him and he explained, `Firstly, he's never been sucked off before, so he wouldn't let you do that to him. Secondly, I know that you didn't jerk him off even once, because he can only cum once. If you'd jerked him off then he wouldn't have asked me to go inside and do it for him. Think about it! So, you're lying. You'll have to learn to do better than that!' What do you think of that, Kurt? And, I'm sorry about the language."

I laugh. "Yeah. I knew that he wouldn't believe the truth!"

Mr Grant asks me, "So, Kurt, how would you like it if William and Karl were to come over to the school, while we are here together, and look through the windows just `to check what was going on inside'?"

"You mean spy on us?" I reply. I get what he is telling me, and I add, "Heck, no!"

"Then we should respect their privacy just the same, don't you think?" he puts to me.

"Yeah, I guess," I say. "But it's not the same! You already know what stuff Karl and William do together."

Mr Grant says, "Maybe so, but there are times when people like a bit of privacy. Am I right?"

How can I answer? I simply grin and say, "Yep!"

"So, we're not going to sneak up on them, are we?" he puts to me.

"So, what are we going to do then?" I ask.

"Why don't we go over to your place?" he asks.

Now I'm confused. "But you just said..." I begin to reply

He grins, "I only said that we shouldn't sneak up on them."

I try to work out the answer to his riddle in my head. Can he read my face, or is it the wrinkles on my forehead?

He asks, "You know the song that we've been singing this week?"

"Yeah, I really like this one," I reply, thinking of the bunch of the colonial folk songs that he has taught us.

"Well," he explains to me, "when we get close to your place, we'll start singing it, then continue straight inside. They'll know that we're coming. So, that's not exactly sneaking up on them or spying, is it?"

My smile turns to an evil grin, like before a pirate makes somebody walk the plank. I tell him, "I like your style, Mr Grant. But let's wait until we get really close, eh, before we start singing?" I put out my fist and he bumps it.

"But not on the front verandah," he says, ruffling my hair.

How could he tell what I was thinking?

I try to put on a pretend pout and groan, "Awww!"

He swats me on the tail, multiple times. Then, only when I move forward, he locks up.

I lead us across the paddock on our now-well-defined track.

Because Junior was up and ready when I came into the classroom, I was only at the school for ten minutes, maybe fifteen at the very most, so nobody would suspect anything if they noticed me from the pub. And William wouldn't be looking for a raised blind so soon.

We get closer and closer to our house and I keep looking around at Mr Grant for his `OK' to start singing.

Finally, as we get level with the corner of the house nearest to the school, Mr Grant starts, in a loud voice, "There was a wild Colonial Boy, Jack Doolan was his name..."

And I join in, as he puts his arm over my shoulder and we walk the final steps together, in time with the music and each other, "Of poor but honest parents he was born in Castlemaine..." We don't even finish the first verse before I jump straight up onto the verandah. He, more slowly, takes the three steps one at a time. I don't wait for Mr Grant and stride through the front door.

"What the hell are you doing back so soon?" Karl shouts at me. His tone changes when he sees Mr Grant right behind me. "Umm... we didn't think that you'd be here so quickly." He looks around, grabs a cushion from the lounge and clutches it in front of him to hide his erection.

"It's OK, Karl," Mr Grant says to him, grinning. "I have seen you naked a few times, you know."

"Yes, Mr Grant," my brother replies, "but not exactly like this..." He slowly removes the cushion to reveal the exact duplicate of my own stiffness which Mr Grant was playing with only five minutes ago. Complete with an obvious dribble of excitement juice. LOL.

Karl grins sheepishly at Mr Grant who, ever positive, responds with, "Well, it does look as though you've grown since the last time that I saw you!" My brother's embarrassed grin turns into a proud smile.

All the while, William is standing, silently, next to Karl, slowly jerking his rigid and oily erection.

"So, you guys haven't finished with each other yet?" Mr Grant asks them.

Obviously not!

I can't help but laugh at the sight of the two of them, `caught in the act'. Not just by me, but by our teacher as well! If there was any smidgen of doubt about what they did when they were together, that has now been totally blown away. Interesting thought! LOL.

The expression on William's face tells me that he totally resents my untimely intrusion, wherever else they might have been up to. The reason becomes more obvious when Karl says, "No, Mr Grant, but we were close."

Mr Grant just smiles and says, "OK. Come on, Kurt. Let's take my car and leave them alone, and we can finish our previous conversation. When they are ready, they can walk over to us at the pub. I have a surprise for everyone."

That should encourage them to hurry up! And, Mr Grant is on my team when it comes to telling believable fibs! An `unfinished conversation'! Nice one!

"Don't be long," Mr Grant adds.

"I think they're both already as long as they can get," I laugh as we turn to leave, for which I receive `the finger' first from Karl and then a double-handed version from William.

"Happy now?" Mr Grant asks and swats me, as we head for his car. What can I say? Mission accomplished!

Mr Grant pulls up outside the pub. "Back in a minute, mate," he tells me.

Did he just call me his mate? Did he mean it?

I wonder what all of these people are doing, hanging around on the outside. And, without a drink in anybody's hand! Outside the pub? Something really weird is going on!

In less than a minute, Mr Grant is back, with Marty O'Brien.

"Gooday there, young Karl. Or... is it Kurt?" Marty says.

Mr Grant and I answer at the same time, except he says `Kurt' and I say `Karl'. We look at each other and smirk. Then, he says `Karl' and I say `Kurt'. We both explode in laughter.

Marty doesn't know what to think, but says, "Well, if you two don't know which of you is which, I suppose it doesn't matter if I get it wrong!"

I get into the back, and let Marty sit up front with Mr Grant.

It looks as though everyone who was still inside, is spilling out, and Mrs Smith closes the doors. They all head for a car or a ute. And, a few guys pile into one of the small trucks.

Karl and William come running, shirts untucked to hide any obvious chunkiness. William slides in next to me, then Karl after him, pulling the door closed.

"Hi guys," Marty says, taking no chances on calling my brother by the wrong name.

"Hey, Marty," Karl and William answer, somewhat out of sync.

William asks the obvious question, "Hey, what's going on?"

"Don't you know?" Marty puts to him, then "Karl? Kurt?" without looking at either of us. "Haven't you heard?"

We all say `No', almost in time with each other, and shake our heads, then look at each other for some clue.

Replaying in my mind how I was focussed on embarrassing William and Karl, I totally forgot to ask Mr Grant about it!

Marty laughs and says, "Well, you are in for as much of a treat as the rest of us!"

He obviously knows what it is!

The next weird thing is that Mr Grant takes the lead, and all of the other cars in The Village follow him.

We head across the bridge and then turn off, left!

I have to say it: "Hey! Where are we going? Nobody drives out this way! We've heard the story of the cursed homestead and how somebody always dies if anyone sees it!"

"What the hell are you doing?" William throws in.

Marty assures him, and us, that "It's OK now. Apparently, the curse has been broken. It's over."

"But why are we heading out that way?" William asks.

"You'll see!" Mr Grant tells him, and a building soon appears on the horizon in front of us.

 

We all pull up in front of the homestead and wait for the red dust to settle around us. Then the cars empty out all of their passengers, who stand and gaze, including some of the `wise old men' of The Village.

There are `oohs' and `aahs' and I even hear a couple of `adult' words from amongst the small crowd.

"Oh, my gosh!" I hear Mrs Smith say. "Will you just look at this place! It's not what I had imagined at all. It's absolutely beautiful!" Then she walks over to some rose bushes and crouches down to smell the flowers. She stands up and says to everyone, "I cannot imagine how this thing of beauty could grow out here! It's so dry all around this place! There must be some underground water to feed them."

One gentleman, whom they call `Davo', walks over to Mrs Smith and says, "I've never seen a rose of this kind before. Ever! I have no idea what type they are. I'll have to check Old Man O'Sullivan's journals that he compiled and presented to me just the day before he died. I must have missed this one! He told me that his journals were a smaller, draft version of a set of more detailed drawings that he was putting together in a portfolio for his granddaughter, Helen."

Mr Grant comments, "Yes, Helen O'Sullivan had told me of her grandfather's passion for drawing plants and wildlife. His work is supposed to be the definitive catalogue of all flora and fauna in the district."

William, Karl and I watch all of the adults climb the stairs to the front door.

We three look at each other, as if to ask the question, `Are we actually going to go up there?'

Then, based on the chatter, something curious appears to be happening at the front door. And, there's only one way to see what that is, which overcomes our previous hesitation. We go up.

We hear Mr Grant say, "Davo, would you like to do the honours?"

He reaches for the large brass door knob, turns it and pushes. Nothing happens. "It seems to be stuck," he says, shoving a little harder. Still nothing happens.

A few of the others, including Marty, try their hand. "It appears to be locked," someone says.

"Did you lock it, Tom?" Julie Smith asks.

"No," Mr Grant replies. "I didn't find any keys, besides which, I don't even see a key hole on this side. Do you?"

Then, he walks over to the door and puts his hand on the door knob. The door swings open, and Mr Grant didn't even seem to push anything.

"How did you do that?" Marty asks him.

"No idea!" he replies. Then, he adds with a laugh, "Maybe it just likes my gentle city-slicker hands." Many of the locals chuckle along. William opens his mouth to say something, but it is closed by the look on Mr Grant's face.

We follow all of the adults inside. "Wow!" William says to Karl and me. "Look at those stairs! Come on! Let's explore what's up there." He takes off but stops half-way up, on the landing. Karl and I are right behind, except Karl doesn't stop and goes left. I go right. William follows Karl.

I see William and Karl run from room to room on their side. `Wow!' I keep hearing, and `Hey, look at this!'

I take my side of the building more slowly.

First, I discover a bathroom. I look around. Bath. Hand basin. Toilet. Two tall cupboards which are built in to the wall. Mirror. Nearly everything is white. All of the taps and pipes look like gold. Maybe they're just polished brass, like the ones Dad showed me out at Whispering Gums. What is really different is that, at our place, the pipes are inside the walls. Here, they are all on the outside. I think that these look way better, all polished and shiny.

I close the bathroom door and move to the next one. It's a bedroom. A beautiful bedroom, painted white, like the bathroom, with a black bed-cover and black curtains. The pillows are also black, with bright red cushions propped up against them. The rug on the polished wooden floor is a similar red and there are some black and white paintings. One has red roses in it, and the other has a man dressed in a red robe. He looks very important, like a king or a bishop or something.

I like this room.

The next one is similar, but with dark blue furnishings and white cushions and a white rug. There are no paintings but there is a pair of crossed swords over the head of the bed and some sort of crest on the opposite wall.

I like this room too.

Some of the adults are now coming up the stairs.

I wonder what William and Karl have found. They are already on the front balcony when I get there, looking out over all of the parked cars. I can see all of the tracks, heading back the way we came. Rows of tyre tracks that disappear into the distance.

I tell them about the `blue room' and the one in black and white.

"The ones on our side were green and pink," Karl says. Then he adds, "I couldn't sleep in the pink one. It reminds me of a girl's birthday cake, or the fairy princess in one of the little kids' books. Not my style!"

"Nor mine neither," William adds.

I have to agree with both of them.

The adults gradually join us on the balcony, and everyone is talking about the house, and how `magnificent' and `lavish' it is. "It seems so out of place here, in the middle of this austere landscape," somebody comments. I can guess what that word means, but I'll check my dictionary later.

I guess that it does `stick out like a sore thumb', as Pa would have said. The only problem is that it's the land around it which is the sore thumb! The house is beautiful.

I tune in to the adult conversations.

"This is really weird!" somebody comments. "It's almost as though time has stood still and the house is exactly as it would have been over a century ago."

"Well, so was the Jintabudjaree curse – weird. There are some things that you just can't explain!" another adds.

"It looks like you've got yourself a real treasure, love," Julie Smith says to Mr Grant.

William is standing alongside him. "What do you mean, Mrs Smith?" he asks her.

"Hasn't he told you yet, dear?" she answers.

"Told me what?" William replies, looking at Mr Grant, who has this really weird expression on his face.

"Tom is the new owner of this property," Mrs Smith tells him.

William looks funny with his mouth wide open. Mr Grant pushes his chin up. "Close your mouth. You'll catch flies!" he tells him.

 

(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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rob.zz@hotmail.com

I try to reply to everyone, though maybe not the same day. Please be patient.

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