Kurt

 

Life in The Village, through the eyes of a student at the remote school.

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 49:

Over dinner, Dad, Helen and Mr Grant fill Marty in on what was discussed earlier. I also learn from Mr Grant that Mr Cook, the architect, will be coming at the end of the week, to plan everything with Marty. All of the equipment is already here. The greatest thing will be moving our house the following week.

Everybody wants to see how they do that. Nobody has ever seen a whole house moved before!

Will adds, "And Ash, I mean Mr Cook, will be staying at Marty's place after your place is set up as the office.

He leans over to me, next to him, and whispers, "Marty and Ash get on really well together."

What did he mean by that? And why did he just whisper it to me? Hmm.

Chapter 50 – Moving Out and Moving In

We thank Mrs Smith for dinner then say goodbye to Marty outside.

Shaking Dad's hand, Marty says to him and Helen, "Thank you both for sharing your good news with me. I look forward to telling mum. But, just one bit at a time." He has this amazingly evil grin on his face!

He also thanks Mr Grant for dinner, then says, "It's awfully quiet without you and Tubby around the place. Maybe you could bring him and the boys for breakfast one morning."

Will, probably tempted to give him the finger for the `tubby' insult, responds instead, while pointing at Marty's waistline, "Thank you, cuz. Maybe it's just a family thing!"

Marty looks stunned. He checks out his belly, which is definitely not fat from what I remember at his last no-clothes breakfast, then looks at Will (definitely not tubby), then at all of us. He's just been out-insulted by his young cousin! Is he hoping for some compliment or reassurance about his body? Nobody speaks on his behalf, but we do all burst out laughing.

There was a time when people used to think that Will, whom we all used to call `Little Willie', was a `few sandwiches short of a picnic', just because he couldn't read. Mr Grant taught him, and we helped, too. So, everyone was wrong about him being stupid! And, also, about the `little willie' thing. LOL. And he was the one who taught me to suck properly when I virtually insisted, after telling him that I overheard him doing it with Mr Grant one night. And he's a fantastic artist, excellent at riding a horse, and great at making up ghost stories!

Which reminds me... I wonder whether I'll see Uncle when Karl and I stay at Jintabudjaree during the week. Or, maybe, only if Andy is there too.

Marty leaves, with a head full of new information.

Mr Grant and Will leave. The `tubby' one with a belly full of cookies, cake, roast dinner and two helpings of apple pie. Maybe Marty's comment wasn't too far off the mark! Potentially.

Dad, Helen, Karl and I stroll back to our house. It's only going to be our home for the rest of the week!

Helen tells Karl and me, "The Camerons are going to have lots of packing boxes left over and they said that we could have them. They are only going to take their personal things and leave everything else for us."

Dad adds, "So, we'll probably only need to take our own personal things as well. Plus, anything else that we really want."

"Like Mum's favourite chair for my bedroom," I throw in. "And my pillow."

Dad tells us, "And Tom, William and Mr Smith have all offered to help us move. So, if we have everything ready to go, it should really only take one trip, then we can get settled quickly at the other end."

Helen says, "Let's talk tomorrow afternoon about what goes and what stays, and we'll bring back some boxes to start putting things into."

 

Tuesday is a `normal' day at school.

Karl and Will finish their jobs quickly and head off to our place. I know what for!

But, at almost the same time, I see Dad and Helen drive past. I hope that Karl and Will haven't been too anxious to get their clothes off!

While I'm finishing off sweeping the verandah, Mr Grant asks me, "Kurt, how do you feel about your Dad marrying Ms O'Sullivan?"

I'm a bit surprised, but I tell him "I'm really glad about it because I like her, and she makes my Dad happy. And, she said that Karl and I should call her `Helen'."

"What about moving house?" he asks.

"That's OK too," I tell him. "Whispering Gums is a wonderful place. And Karl and I will have our own rooms, although it is going to be strange not sleeping with my brother." Then I cheekily add, grinning at him, "Like you and Will do."

"You mean, in the same room, like we did at Marty's?" he says, looking a little nervous.

"Yeah, that too," I reply.

He looks at me, and I stare back at him. Stare! Does he realise that I know about him and Will? I'm pretty sure that he doesn't want me to explain what I meant, because he's probably afraid of hearing what I might say!

Andy already shared with him about `giving himself to me completely', so Mr Grant knows that I've done it! I wonder whether he thinks that Karl and I do it? I'll have to straighten him out about that!

I decide to change the subject. Almost. "So, where will we sleep at Jintabudjaree, Mr Grant, when Karl and I are there with you and William, Sunday to Thursday nights?"

Instead of just giving me an answer, he asks, "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Well," I start and thinking as I go, "there are four bedrooms and there will be four of us. But I don't think that William, Karl or I would like the pink, frilly room, do you?"

"Probably not!" he smiles.

"Which means that somebody will have to sleep with somebody," I say. "So, maybe William can have the green room, where he and Karl used to sleep when Andy was here. And you have your own room. And Karl and I could have the blue room."

"That's a good idea," Mr Grant tells me.

However, I'm not finished. "Or, Karl could sleep with me over in the green room, and William could sleep with you." His face says `surprised'. I continue, "Or, Karl could sleep with William like they did before, and I could sleep with you instead of with Andy." His face changes to `shocked'.

"And what would we tell you father, when he wants to know about the arrangements?" he asks, as we head back inside to put away the broom.

"What if we tell him my first suggestion?" I answer. "William has his room. You have yours, and Karl and I will share."

"Very wise!" he responds, patting me on the backside, instead of spending the time mussing up my hair.

"We can do that on the first night," I tell him, smiling, "so that it's the truth. But we don't need to stick to that arrangement all of the time, do we?"

He looks stunned. Frozen. I pat him on the backside and say, "Come, on, Mr Grant. I think that we'd better go. Dad and Helen are already over at our place."

 

"Coffee before you go?" Helen asks Mr Grant. "And there are some fresh jam tarts."

"Thank you, Ms O'Sullivan," Will jumps in. "That would be wonderful."

Mr Grant explains my proposed sleeping arrangements, with him and William having their own rooms and with Karl and me in together. "Unless Karl wants the pink room to himself."

The screwed-up expression on my brother's face is way better than a simple `No!'

"Perfect!" Dad says. "I was afraid of how the boys would react to not sleeping together."

Mr Grant looks at me and I wink at him, so that nobody else can see. He raises his coffee mug to his mouth to conceal his smirk.

 

By Friday, the only things not packed are the clothes that we have on and what we will need for tomorrow (I have mine in my backpack, like when we visited Mum). Karl and I have three packing boxes each, mostly clothes and bits and pieces. I leave my hat out so that it doesn't get crushed. All of the boxes are marked with which room they are to be placed in out there.

Dad tells us that it was very sad saying goodbye to the Camerons this morning. They had a friend from Cunnamulla come with a truck to take all of their belongings. After sharing morning tea, they left, very tearfully.

Helen says to me, "And Mrs Cameron wanted me to give you something." And she does. A hug. And not just a little one. "She said that she was going to miss you, and that you had better come and visit when they are settled."

I have to wipe a tear from my cheek.

 

Friday night. Karl and I spend a long time, in his bed, remembering all of the things that we have done together in this room. Everything, from just sleeping side-by-side as little kids, cuddling each other when we were afraid of a strange noise, feeling each other's cocks when we were aware that they got hard, and learning how good it felt to play with them and each other's balls. Then, after Will taught us how to jack off, all of the fun that we had, and the need to keep a spunk rag handy.

We talk about our `chicken feathers', `public hair' as we joked about it with Dad, and our deeper voices, and the hairs on our legs. After playfully wrestling with each other, front-to-front and front-to-back, we finish with `milking the cow' for each other, and I prove to my brother that he isn't the only one who can spurt twice in a row. The second time is easy, thinking about how Ron let me push my oily dick between his muscly legs, and then how amazing it felt when Andy `gave himself to me completely'. I can't wait to see him next holidays and do that again!

 

Moving day. Dad has the ute from Whispering Gums. Mr Smith from the pub is here with his small truck and Mr Grant has brought The Beast. Mr Smith takes the two lounge chairs and all of Dad's tools. Mr Grant has a few boxes with the `breakables', and Dad has the other boxes; towels, linen, clothes and stuff.

After we say our `goodbyes' to the house, Dad and Helen head off first. Will and Karl decide to travel with Mr Smith to keep him company, and I get to ride with Mr Grant. Yeah!

The others have driven off. As we turn the corner, near the pub, we see Marty's blue SUV coming towards us, down the road from Cunnamulla. Mr Grant pulls over and waits for him to reach us.

Marty stops near the pub, and gets out. So too does Mr Cook from the passenger's side. Mr Grant and I walk across to say hello.

"Good morning, Marty," Mr Grant says, shaking hands with him. And then, "Hello, Ash, it's good to see you again."

"Hi Tom. G'day Kurt," Marty says, then adds, "Did I get it right? There actually IS something different about you two! I sensed it the other night at dinner."

I'm tempted to joke that he's wrong, however it's good to know that Karl and I are not just clones of each other, apart from just one slightly different eyebrow.

"Got it in one, Marty!" I tell him, giving him a thumbs-up.

"You've met Ash before," Marty says to me. "I just picked him up in Cunnamulla. He'll be staying with me for a while."

"Hello Mr Cook," I say, extending my hand.

"Hello young Kurt," he replies. "Could you please call me `Ash'? It's nice to see you again. Have you changed since I was here last? I don't remember you being this grown up and handsome!"

I know that he's joking but I can't stop myself from blushing. Like the day that Will told the barber in Big Town that girls thought I had a `cute arse'. And, it was the same day that Marty joked that the girls would be `after' Karl and me because we looked handsome with our new haircuts.

And, if Ron thought that I have `nice glutes', I think that he would really like Ash's ones. Today, in even tighter jeans, it's difficult to also avoid noticing his `nice things' up front as well.

I look at Marty. He grins. Did he just see where I was looking? I feel myself blush more.

I instantly wonder whether Ash will be joining us for breakfast, with Marty's usual (un)dress code. Junior is very awake and stretching. Ash notices it and smiles at me. So does Marty.

To avoid any more embarrassment, I tell Mr Grant, "I think that we should go and catch up to the others."

Mr Grant explains to Marty and Ash, "Today, the whole Andersen family is moving out to Whispering Gums, and we're the last vehicle in the convoy."

"I look forward to seeing you around, Kurt," Ash smiles at me, glancing, again, at my jeans.

"Yes. See you at breakfast," Marty grins.

"Will that be sausages, as usual?" I ask him.

"Of course!" he replies, and winks.

And Junior stretches even more obviously.

 

"Are you OK, sport?" Mr Grant asks, as he guides The Beast towards Whispering Gums. "You're unusually quiet."

"I think so, Mr Grant," I tell him. "I was just thinking about things, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, and turns, looking across at me.

"It's a bit hard," I say. "I'm sad to be leaving our home, but very happy to be moving to Whispering Gums. And Ash said that he thought I was handsome, but I get embarrassed when people say I have `nice glutes' or a `cute arse', or ruffle my blond hair, comment on my blue eyes, or check out the front of my tight jeans. But I actually enjoy it!"

"Does it upset you when I give you a friendly swat on the tail?" he asks. "Because, if it does, I'm sorry, and I won't do it anymore."

"Oh, no, Mr Grant," I answer him quickly, looking across at him. "I like it when you do that. And the other things that you do with me. I don't want you to stop! And I was kind-of hoping that we might do a bit more, if Karl sleeps with William sometimes. That's mostly what I was thinking about."

"I can't promise you that, Kurt," he says, then asks, "But what about Andy?"

"What do you mean, `what about Andy'?"

He replies, "Well, how do you feel about everything that you two have done together? Even though I had hoped that the three of us could have talked about when he `gave himself to you', I did get the opportunity to speak with Andy about it after you came to visit."

"What did he say?" I ask.

Mr Grant replies, "Why don't you tell me how you feel about it first, and then I have Andy's permission to share with you what he told me."

"Well," I start. "I'd never done that before and it felt really strange at first, but wonderful. I loved doing it with Andy, and he said that he just wanted to make me happy."

"You know," Mr Grant says, "that someone giving themself to you completely is a very special thing. It's the greatest compliment that anybody could pay you."

"I wanted to make Andy happy too," I reply, "but Andy said that it needs some special preparation first, including cleaning yourself properly, and I didn't know how."

"Then, maybe when he comes to visit next holidays," Mr Grant says, "you two can spend time together working it out. And, you can ask me any questions, if you want to."

"I really hope that he can come," I answer. "We didn't have much time together when Karl and I came to visit you. Just a bit of quick fun, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, I do," Mr Grant says. "And Andy told me that he's really looking forward to the next holidays so that he can see you again. But your phones will help you stay in touch until then."

Mr Grant looks at me and says, seriously, "He also said that he loves you."

"Yes. He did say that. And I told him that I love him too," I confess.

"You are both still very young," Mr Grant says, "to be talking about loving each other."

I ask, seriously, "So, when are you old enough to love somebody, Mr Grant?"

"That depends!" he replies.

"Depends on what, Mr Grant?"

"Well, do you love your dad?"

"Yes."

"And your mum?"

"Of course!"

"And your brother?"

"Yes! Well, most of the time."

"So, when were you old enough to love them?" he asks.

"I don't know," I answer. "Ever since I can remember."

"And, is loving them different to loving Andy?" he asks, again turning his face to me.

"Yes. Well, no, not really. The first time that I met him, that day at Jintabudjaree, I felt something really special between Andy and me. Even with his broken arm and when he couldn't walk properly or talk properly. It's hard to put into words," I try to explain. "It was just a magic feeling. And the more time that we were able to spend together when he was allowed to stay here, the more I liked him. Lots! And we both discovered that we really liked to `muck around' with each other, too. I guess after that is when we said that we loved each other. Was that wrong?"

"Loving somebody, really loving them, is never wrong," Mr Grant tells me. Then he asks, "Kurt, have you ever heard the word `lust' before?"

"No," I answer. "What's that?"

"It's when a person really, really wants something, and they feel that they just have to get it or have it," he says. "I've heard some people use a similar word, `covet'. Apart from wanting what somebody else owns, it could even be wanting another person's body to play with, or to do things with. Some people confuse `love' and `lust'. Does that make sense?"

He looks at me and can tell that I'm thinking.

Loving my Dad has nothing to do with his body. Loving my brother is different. I like playing with his body and he likes playing with mine, but it's something that we've always done. I don't have to `really, really want it and have to get it'! And I do have fun, sometimes, with Will, but that's different again. That's just having fun. Not love. Not lust either.

However, I think that the only person I might `lust' is Mr Grant! I don't `love' him, but I do want to play with his body and have him play with mine! But, it's more than that. Mr Grant is a lot of fun. I enjoy playing our pointing-and-mouthing-each-other's-name game too, and when he swats me on the tail, and when he musses up my hair.

And then there was Ron. Did we just `lust' each other? Just wanting each other's body? Ron told me that he was attracted by my `aura'. And I told him that I can't see auras but I can feel things, like magnets. And that I felt attracted to him, like a magnet, and that we agreed to be boyfriends. I liked being with Ron. He made me laugh, taught me to drive, and told me how smart I was and how he liked my `nice glutes'. Was he just `lusting' my body? I hope not! Because I really liked him.

"Andy is different," I say out loud, then realise that Mr Grant doesn't know what else I was thinking about. I try to explain. "He's like my other brother, only different. Like we're magnets for each other. And I feel funny in my chest and stomach when I'm with him. Andy and I muck around together, and do stuff, you know? But, I don't love him because of that. I would love him, even if we didn't do that! It's exciting to be with him and painful when I'm not."

"That's a very grown-up answer!" Mr Grant tells me. "And, let me say, that Andy feels the same way about you. He told me that he felt attracted to you, long before he had any thoughts of doing something sexual with you. But that he really enjoys doing that too, which is why he `gave himself to you' as an expression of his love, because it was the best thing that he could give you, he said."

"Something else happened after that," I say. "Do you remember? That was when I was able to open the door at Jintabudjaree! And then I heard Uncle. He spoke to me."

"Uncle who?" Mr Grant asks, turning and looking at me again.

"Uncle, the ghost," I say, straight out. "Like Andy told you when we were down in the Landau with you."

 

We pull up alongside Dad's ute and Mr Smith's truck. We can't have been too far behind them, because they haven't started unloading anything yet.

Dad calls to me, "Come inside, Kurt. You and Karl can choose which bedroom you want, so we'll know where to put things."

Inside the house, I've only ever seen the living area and the kitchen before. Helen and Dad give us all a `guided tour'.

Off the back of the kitchen to the left side are two bedrooms, side by side. One at the front of the house and one to the back. They look to be the same size. The back one has a double bed. The bed in the front room is bigger, and this is obviously the `master', like Mr Grant's room at Jintabudjaree.

Back the other way, in the middle of the house, behind the kitchen, there is a bathroom and a separate toilet.

There is a door between the bathroom and toilet which obviously opens to the yard behind the house. I suppose if you were out there and needed to go to the toilet urgently, it would be easier to use this door instead of walking all the way around to the front. Or to escape from pirates!

Then, on the other side of the house there are two more bedrooms. "These are yours," Helen says. "Choose whichever one you want."

Excitedly, Karl and I check out both rooms. They're the same, except like in a mirror. They each have a window that looks out to the track that we have just driven on. One has a window that looks to the back of the house, and the other looks towards the bunkhouse at the front.

"Which one would you like?" I ask my brother.

"Which one do you want?" he replies, which surprises me.

I know which one I would prefer, but I don't want my brother to be upset if we both like the same one.

We look at Dad and Helen.

"OK. I'll toss a coin," Dad tells us. "Whoever wins can choose first. OK?"

Karl and I nod.

"You call," I tell Karl.

"No, you call," he says.

Everybody laughs.

Dad says, "OK. Heads, Karl chooses. Tails, Kurt chooses." And he flips it into the air.

It hits the wooden floor and rolls against the wall. Everybody crowds around to see.

"Heads!" Dad says. "Right-o, Karl. Which room do you want?"

Karl looks at me then says, "The back one. So, if I have a horse tied up out there, I'll be able to see it."

Has he forgotten that the second shed here contains stalls for the horses? Or does he expect to run out of the back door and jump onto its back?

Everybody turns to me, perhaps for my reaction.

"Then, I'll choose... the front one," I say, smiling. "All good!"

It's the one that I would have chosen anyway! So, Karl and I are both happy.

Having only seen the front verandah and the side windows from the outside before, I now get the full picture. The verandah opens into the living/dining area with the kitchen behind it. The bedrooms, bathroom and toilet stretch across the back, forming like a `T', with Dad and Helen's room and mine having a window that faces the bunkhouse, and with the spare room and Karl's and the bathroom and the toilet having windows facing the back.

 

We start unloading and Karl says to me quietly, "With the way that the hallway wraps around the back of the kitchen, we will be able to visit each other at night, without anybody seeing us! Neat, eh?"

We bump fists.

Both rooms have similar furniture: a double bed, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers with a lamp. The only real difference is the rug on the wooden floor boards. The one in Karl's room is a dark red, almost brown, with patterns in a lighter colour. Mine is much lighter, a plain grey-green, gum-leaf colour and thicker.

We decide to set up our rooms so that they look the same, except in reverse.

Between the two of us, we manage to move everything around to where we want it. We do Karl's room first and then mine.

The bedhead is against the wall where the door is, so that from outside, you can't see it. The set of drawers is between the bed and the door, so that the lamp can be used for reading in bed. My wardrobe is the first thing that you see from outside, backing onto Karl's wall. That leaves room for Mum's chair over in the corner between the two windows, opposite the bed.

Nice! The only thing is, I'm not used to having heavy curtains across my bedroom window, but I'll get used to them. I reckon that they might be good for keeping the sun out when it's hot. My window facing the bunkhouse would get the direct sunlight in summer. The other one faces west. Hot summer afternoons, but it would be nice in winter!

I think that my bed hasn't been slept on much. The mattress looks almost new. I flop onto it, and it's very comfortable. I can't wait to see what it's like with two people and try it out tonight with Karl. LOL.

 

Everything from the vehicles is now in the right room. The folded boxes have all been stacked in one corner of the tack room, where the horse stalls are and Dad's tools have been stored in the same shed as the machinery.

I can't wait to get out the quad bikes and ride with Karl, Will and Mr Grant.

 

"Morning tea!" Helen calls loudly, as I see Dad and Mr Smith heading back from the sheds.

 

(to be continued)

 

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The parallel version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, has concluded.
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