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 57:
Karl sits on the
verandah to wait for the other two. I head back out towards the front gate.
Marty is talking to Mr Grant. I stand a little apart from them so that they
don't think I am listening to what they are saying.
Ash, heading in
our direction, stops to talk to me over the fence.
He extends his
hand and I shake it. Then, tickling his palm, I ask, "Ash, what did it mean
when you did that to me?
He looks stunned,
and stares at me, sheepishly. His neck and cheeks look as though they are
getting red.
I ask, "Were you
asking me if I wanted to have sex with you?"
Chapter 58 – The Unexpected
There
is a long pause. Uncomfortable. More for him than for me, I guess.
"Well, isn't that what it means?" I ask him. "That's
what Mr Grant told me."
His eyes widen, while at the same time quickly letting
go of our grip, and he asks, quietly, "Did you tell Tom about it?"
"Yeah. Well, I just thought that it was really funny,
and it tickled," I say. "So, I did it to him, and told me that I shouldn't do that
to anyone else. When I asked him why not, he told me what some people mean by
it."
"Sorry, Kurt, if you were offended," Ash replies.
"And, no, I wasn't asking you that."
"It's OK," I tell him. "I wasn't offended at all. In
fact, I told Mr Grant that I expected that you were just being friendly and playing
a joke on me."
As he glances at Mr Grant, Ash exhales and I see his
face and his shoulders relax.
I continue, "Anyway, I really enjoyed how you were being
friendly with me at Marty's. As I remember... I saw you checking out my cock and
balls when I arrived, but that's natural, isn't it? Because, I checked out
yours too." I smile at him. "And I liked that you referred to me as a `man'.
Then you made a joke about using both hands when you looked at your dick and
winked at me. And you pressed your thigh against mine when we were at the
stove. Then you patted me on the backside so that nobody could see you, and
grabbed my bum after I patted yours. And I did see your dick getting hard when
we were nudging each other's leg under the table. I thought that it was all a
lot of fun! Eh?"
"Did you tell Tom all of that too?" he asks, now looking
really uncomfortable again.
"Don't be silly," I tell him. "That was just private
fun between me and you, wasn't it? House Rule! OK?"
"Thank you, Kurt," he says, and extends his hand.
We shake, and he tickles my palm and winks.
"Don't even think about it!" I tell him. I add,
"However you do have a `cute arse' as William said, and a really nice sausage
too!" I grin, then immediately turn and walk away.
I join Karl just as William and Jake are arriving from
the toilets. I check out the front of their shorts for any signs of
`excitement'. Nothing obvious! Just their normal bumps.
"OK, everyone," Mr Grant calls, coming to where we are
standing, and clapping. "Time to do some more work. Out near the gate."
I see our Dad talking to
Jake's dad, and I wonder what is being discussed. Or planned. I'm pretty sure that
it would be something about horses; perhaps even about Karl. I'll have to wait
until the weekend to find out, seeing that Karl and I will be at Jintabudjaree
for the next four nights.
Mr Grant tells everyone to close their eyes and to
concentrate and to listen for things around us. Then he names people and asks
them to tell what they can hear. He starts with the little kids. A few of them
say `machines' or `people talking' or `birds'. After
each answer, we have to close our eyes and see whether we can hear that thing
too, and to put up our hand if we do.
When he gets to us `seniors', he challenges us to name
things that nobody else has already said, except that we could nominate a
specific machine or particular bird.
Precisely when I am named, the kookaburras laugh
again. Everybody groans and pretends to complain, because my `turn' is so easy!
Rather than just listening for them, Mr Grant tells everyone to practise
laughing like a kookaburra. Even little Eric laughs. Loudly. I can imagine him
giving them `payback' for their earlier insult, when he wet his shorts.
The combined loud noise of all of us kids being
kookaburras makes everybody's head turn from the pub, and also from the workmen
down at the other end of the track.
I'm surprised when all of the people laugh back at us.
The real kookaburras are at first silent, having been challenged for their
territory by an army of a few dozen cackling humans, then we see them fly away!
Defeated! Like fleeing pirates!
After eating our lunches, we are kicking the soccer
ball around when Jane calls out, "Hey, the big truck is leaving!"
We all rush to the front fence and watch it until it
disappears down the road towards Big Town.
There are still some workmen `fussing' around our old
house. I can't see exactly what they are doing, and the house looks really
small from here, especially compared with the homesteads at Whispering Gums and
Jintabudjaree.
"Mr Grant," I ask, "May we please go and have a closer
look at what they have done down there before we go home this afternoon?"
"Of course, Kurt," he replies, giving me a quick
one-handed hug to my shoulder. "I'm curious too. I'll drive the four of us down
after we lock up."
I really like Mr Grant. He's handsome and always smiling
and he looks after the little kids. And us. And me. I reckon that I couldn't
have gotten a better answer to my Christmas wish!
I notice David give William a clump of grey material,
and I know that little Eric has his own shorts back on again. Now I realise
what that box of spare boys' and girls' clothes in the store room is for! This
is the first time that I have seen any of them actually used. I expect that, in
the past, William or Jane would have helped any little kids who had needed them,
without telling everyone else. Some things are meant to be kept a secret! House
Rule at School!
Which just makes me think of my secrets with Mr Grant,
and Ron, and Andy, and Karl, oh, and now Ash! LOL.
During the week we see truckloads of materials arrive
for the pub, and there is a lot of work done. At the same time, huge graders
flatten all of the area between the school and the new location of our old
house. We also see the preparation for two new streets running `parallel'
(maths!) to this one with the school and the old church. The new ones will have
a row of houses on each side. `First Street' will be closer to the pub and
directly opposite the road from Big Town. `Second Street', the next one, will
be a bit farther (English!) along.
Dad is in town a lot, working with Ash and Marty. He
comes over every day at lunchtime, talks with Mr Grant, and says hello to us.
So does Marty. So does Ash – but there is no handshaking, just smiles and
hellos.
Because Dad is in town on Friday, we go home with him,
instead of going to Jintabudjaree.
Apart from the progress of the work in The Village,
there are a few things that we discuss over dinner: our possible roles when the
Farm Stay people start to come; the extra farm hands while Dad is occupied with
Marty and Ash; and the wedding!
Apparently, Mr Grant has offered Helen and Dad to host
their wedding and reception at Jintabudjaree. Our bunk house and the two
workers' huts will be used to accommodate wedding guests who are not locals, if
there is insufficient room for them at the pub. And Julie Smith and Mr Smith
are going to provide all of the food, except Jane (yes, our Jane from school!)
and her mother, Mrs O'Brien, who are going to make the wedding cake. The music
will be provided by a band which Helen knows from her work with the Council in
Cunnamulla. What's a `bush band'? And, the wedding will be held on the weekend
in the middle of the next school holidays, to allow people to travel to and
from The Village. Wow! Also, Helen has two good friends who will be her `Matron
of Honour' and `Bridesmaid', plus Dad wants Karl and me to be his two `Best
Men'. Double wow!
"The three of you are going to look really handsome in
matching suits," Helen tells us.
"Suits?" Karl replies. "We don't have any suits!"
"We will hire them from a place in Cunnamulla," Dad
tells us. "So, one Saturday, about a month before the wedding, we will all have
to go there and get `fitted' and then pick up everything on the weekend before
the wedding.
"What does that mean?" Karl asks. "Getting fitted?"
"It means," Dad tells him, "that
they will take all of your measurements, so that everything is the right size
and fits properly."
Karl looks at me and grins, then immediately looks
down at his lap. I can tell what he's thinking, but, no, I reckon that they
won't need to measure our penises!
Dad continues, "So, you two had better not grow too
much between the fitting and the wedding!"
Karl grins at me again.
"So, who exactly is coming tomorrow?" I ask. "You did
say, didn't you, Dad, that someone was coming to install the water heater in
the workers' hut and maybe add a gas fire?"
"That's right, son," he replies. "He's coming from
Cunnamulla. He will probably have his apprentice with him. I'm not a hundred
percent sure."
"What about the farm hands?" I add. "Are they coming
too? Or did I mix something up?"
"No," Dad tells us. "Two totally different lots of
people. The plumber from Cunnamulla should be here early to start the work. He
reckons that, with an assistant, he should be done in plenty of time to travel
back again the same day. If not, I told him that he could stay in the workers'
hut."
"And, the farm hands?" I ask. "Where are they coming
from? Big Town?"
"One is a guy that Marty knows, and recommends," Dad
says. "I think that his name is Jack or Jacko. He lives between Big Town and
The Village; a bit closer to Big Town, Marty said."
"And the other one?" I ask.
"Somebody that Mr Cameron recommended," Dad tells us.
"Mr Cameron is going to bring the guy from Cunnamulla, pick up Marty's friend
in The Village, and then the three of them will drive up here for lunch."
"Well, that's the plan," Helen says.
"Speaking of plans," Dad says, laying down his knife
and fork, then linking his two hands together and resting his elbows on the
table, "Helen and I have had some thoughts about what you two can do when the
Farm Stay people come."
He looks at Karl, then at me, and also at Helen.
It's Helen who speaks. "We've had some initial
thoughts, but we'd like you boys to tell us what you'd like to do. Have you
thought about it at all?"
"Only once or a thousand times," I say, smiling. "But
I'd like to let Karl speak first."
"That's very kind of you, brother," Karl replies,
trying really hard to be polite, "but I think that you should..."
Helen cuts in. "Yes, Karl, I'd really like to hear
what you have in mind. I'm sure that you will come up with some ideas that your
father and I haven't thought of."
The look on Karl's face is a cross between delight and
confusion. While he is used to jumping in when he wants to, he's not accustomed
to being asked his opinion!
"Well," Karl starts slowly. "I really like the horses
and the quad bikes. So, maybe, something to do with them would be great."
Then he turns sideways and looks at me, as though that
is the signal for my turn. Dad and Helen look at me too.
"I'd be happy to do anything to help," I tell them
all.
I catch the look on Karl's face and think that I've accidentally
raised myself up again to be the goody-goody that makes him `look bad'.
"I mean," I explain, "I'd like to help with the
cooking for our guests, and I could get some of them to help me check the
fences. Or, maybe even have them help me paint a shed."
I look at Karl. Now he is grinning, knowing that I'm
being funny without making fun of him.
I add, "And I can drive the Land Rover around to carry
things to the two workers' huts."
Dad looks at us, smiles and says, "Thank you. I think
that you are both right, and they are good suggestions too. However, Helen and
I think that you both have much more potential than just that."
The sudden, squinty look on Karl's face conveys, `Here
it comes! I'm gonna get stuck with all of the shit jobs."
"Karl," Dad says, addressing him first. "I know that
you love the horses, and they respond well to you too, like when you were
helping me to shoe them. Remember? How would you feel about being in charge of
the horses? Especially when the Home Stay guests are here."
"What do you mean?" Karl asks, obviously thrilled at the
words `being in charge'. "Do you mean, like, being the `boss' of the horses?"
"Do you think that you would like to be responsible
for the horses?" Dad asks. "Not just their shoes, but, their equipment, their
stalls, their food, trail rides, teaching the guests how to saddle a horse and
rub it down after they ride it, and their overall health?"
"Hell, Yeah!" Karl responds
excitedly, but not exactly how William says it. More quietly. Then he adds, "But
I don't know anything about their health."
"Well, I could teach you the basics, but how would you
like to learn from the veterinarian that Mr Cameron and I used to get out here
occasionally? She's the expert."
Karl's mouth drops to fly-catching mode.
"And," Dad continues, "I've asked Mr Reg O'Brien if
you can spend time with him while he teaches you whatever he thinks you should
know. He's the local go-to expert in both horse health and riding skills. He
said that he'd be more than happy to teach you because he's not getting any
younger, and that Jake doesn't seem all that interested in learning."
I reach across and lift Karl's chin, to re-unite it with
his top jaw. He turns to me and grins.
"You mean, really be in charge of everything about our
horses?" Karl asks, disbelievingly.
"Totally!" Dad replies. "Not overnight, of course, but
long-term. You will have me, Reg and the veterinarian to teach you and support
you."
"Trucking hell," I hear my brother mumble, then he
says out loud, "Thank you. That would be amazing!"
"And you," Helen says to me, "There's a limit to how
many times you can check a fence, or paint a shed, or take things to one of the
workers' huts. And while I will appreciate your help and skill in the kitchen, your
father and I have something extra in mind for you too."
I look from her to Dad, wondering what else I could possibly
do.
Dad says, "While Helen and I will look after the
bookings for our guests, we think that you would be excellent at organising all
of their activities while they are here. Planning things for both the adults
and the children. Making up activity plans for their stay – 3 days or a week.
Where to go. What to see. What to do and to learn and help with, and you would
liaise with Karl regarding the number of people who want to go horse riding,
for which he will then prepare the horses, and take over the riding session.
You can plan their meals if they are going to be away from the homestead and
ensure that the workers' cottages have all the supplies that they need."
Karl reaches over and re-unites my chin with my upper
jaw. I look at him. And he's still the one grinning.
"And, as a thought," Helen adds, "They might even enjoy
a day-trip into The Village to see the restored pub. You could organise with Julie
Smith for them to have lunch in the pub's dining room. Then, on the way back,
maybe a detour to see Tom's amazing Jintabudjaree homestead. Tom said that he
would be OK with that arrangement and, if William was there, maybe they could
watch him paint and possibly buy one of his pictures."
"Wow!" I say enthusiastically. "All of this sounds
really exciting."
Karl comments, more as a throwaway line, "It's a pity
about the driving! Too bad that we can't all fly!"
Dad and Helen turn and stare at each other, almost as
though a light has been switched on.
"That is a brilliant suggestion, Karl," Helen says.
"Leave it with me. I know people who could actually make that happen."
Karl and I stare at each other. Is she serious?
Flying?
Dad concludes the `family discussion' by saying, "So,
are you both happy to work with Helen and me and plan for us to do those things?"
Karl and I look at each other, nod and then say in
unison, "Hell, Yeah!"
Karl, uncharacteristically, adds, "Thank you."
That produces smiles all `round!
Then, Karl doesn't even ask if Helen would like him to
help clean up. He stands up, collects all of the plates and takes them to the
kitchen. Helen, Dad and I grin about the `new' Karl.
There is a light in my brother that has been missing
for a long time! I love him.
We hear water running and Helen calls out, "Karl, what
are you doing out there?"
He answers, "Washing up! Is that OK?"
"Don't you want dessert first?" Helen calls back to
him.
The water turns off and there is silence from the
kitchen. Then Karl emerges, grinning. "Sure. Thank you." He looks at me and
asks, "One of your apple pies, Kurt?"
"Nothing of the sort!" Helen tells him. Then she adds,
"He's not the only person around here who can cook, you know!"
It's not said as a `put-down' of me by her, but Karl
grins anyway, obviously enjoying the light moment.
"Tonight, it's Bread and Butter Pudding," Helen
announces.
"What? Just bread and butter?" Karl asks, looking frowny.
"Far from it!" Helen tells him. "Do you want to come
and help me? I'll show you."
"Who? Me?" Karl asks, pointing to himself, as though
Helen has made a mistake in identity.
"Yes, you," Helen replies. "Don't look so surprised.
Your brother doesn't have the monopoly for having fun in the kitchen."
Karl's eyes widen as he looks in my direction. If they
could speak, they would probably be saying, `Trucking hell, yeah! Ha ha!' Then he turns and follows Helen back to the kitchen.
I'm not at all upset but, I suddenly experience the
feeling of `exclusion' which Karl must have been carrying all of this time.
Twice! Once for the dessert and once for being helpful.
Despite the limited space in the kitchen, cleaning up tonight
is a family affair. Dad washes. Karl and I dry. Helen puts things away – where
they `belong'.
"Oh, and there is one more thing...," Helen says while
we are all together. "Our Goldilocks and the Seven Dwarfs story! What if we
leave it until tomorrow night, when Tom, William and the farm hands are all
here? They might enjoy it too. In the
lounge room. Is that OK?"
`Sure', `Yes' and `Absolutely' come from Dad, Karl and
me.
I lie, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling,
listening to the noises of the night and waiting for Karl to `come and visit'
my bed, as we had planned.
A horse. Cattle. A distant howl. What's that? Is it a
dog? From where? Maybe a fox? Do foxes howl? I'll have to ask Dad. The hooting
of the owl I recognise. Then, the clack of tin contracting in the cool night
air; maybe part of a shed, or a tank or..., I don't know.
However, inside the house, everything is silent. Until
I hear a click. Karl's door closing. Then my door handle turning. Then the door
being shut. Even Karl's bare feet I can hear.
I look up at him and grin. Then, as I hold the covers
up, he drops his pyjama pants and slides in next to me.
Our hands immediately find each other's cock and
balls.
"Did you start without me?" Karl asks, discovering an
almost-hard Junior.
"It started all by itself," I tell him. "The moment
that I heard your door. It likes you."
I love feeling his dick respond to my hand too.
Chunky. Fatter. Longer. Firmer. Stiff.
Tonight, I know that my brother's mind is in a happy
place. I am happy for him!
While Karl is playing with my balls, I run my hand
over his chest, down his stomach and into his hairs. His dick is resting on the
back of my hand. No, not resting. Doing a few push-ups. So, I turn my hand over
to hold it and feel the wetness of his excitement. Junior jumps and Karl's hand
gets wet and slippery too.
We go slowly and I enjoy the feeling of what his hand
is doing and what mine is doing to him. Stiff and slippery. Ooh, yeah!
Occasionally tight and fast.
Talking isn't necessary; we know each other's body and
reactions well enough! Just some occasional hums and moans as we give each
other such wonderful pleasure.
I love it when his body starts to tremble, then goes
rigid before he spurts. My spunk rag is ready for him. It's rare for him to
shoot first and it excites me that I've been able to do that for him. Then, I
try to last as long as possible, and really enjoy the feeling from deep down to
exploding into the rag. Two. Three. Four. Big ones!
We hold each other. I love the warmth of his body and
the firmness of his glutes. I hear the owl hoot and I drift into being asleep.
I hear the rooster crow and am aware that Karl is
still with me. I feel his arm over me and the warmth of his body against mine.
I'm unsure whether it's me stirring, or the rooster,
that wakes him.
"Fucking rooster!" he mumbles. "I need to pee."
He thanks me, kisses me, then slips out. My door opens
and closes. I hope, being not fully awake, that he has remembered his pyjama
pants!
We finish breakfast. Helen had cooked extra bacon,
eggs and hash browns in case the plumber and his helper were to arrive early
and want something to eat before starting work.
"Would you like to drive the Land Rover up to the
workers' hut?" Dad asks me. "You can take a few things up there for me, and
open it up ready for the plumber. I trust you to drive by yourself. Are you OK
with that?"
"Thank you, Dad," I tell him. "I'll be really
careful."
"I know you will, son," he replies. "I have a few
things that I need to do here, then I'll come up with the plumber and we can
drive back together."
"And you can take the extra breakfast up there for the
plumber and his offsider anyway," Helen says. "I'm sure that it won't go to
waste!"
Dad turns to Karl. "Son, do you want to help me get
the quad bikes all ready for the day? With so many people around, I'm sure that
they'll get some use. Maybe we can also bring some horses up, in case you and
William want to go for a ride. I don't know whether Tom would want to join you
or not. And..." he looks at me. I shake my head. "Just asking!" he says to me,
grinning. He knows that I'd much rather be on a bike. It has better shock
absorbers!
I drive carefully. I feel really grown up for being
trusted to drive by myself on the property.
I think about everything that we discussed over dinner
last night. Yes, I reckon that I could plan everything for our Farm Stay
guests! Once I had every possible activity covered, I could just `plug some in'
to a plan for a few days or a week, depending on the number of adults and kids,
and whatever they had particularly told Helen, when booking, what they wanted
to see and try.
And, I'm really pleased that Karl is going to be in
charge of the horses. I know that's what he would love to do! Maybe even look
after the quad bikes, or we could share that.
Flying? I have no idea what Helen has in mind! How
could you possibly land a plane out here? Or in The Village? It would have to
be a helicopter. I remember what great fun it was when Mr Grant's father took
us up in his helicopter! Wow! That's it! Who does she know?
As I unload the last of the supplies that Helen wanted
me to bring up here, I see a distant cloud of dust rising. I reckon that it's
coming from the main road into the Whispering Gums property. Probably the
plumber, much later than we had expected! Or, possibly, Mr Cameron with the
farm hands.
I wait for almost an hour, cleaning and ensuring that
everything is fresh and aired, when I hear a car.
I recognise Dad in the passenger's seat of somebody
else's ute with boxes in the tray, and some tubes strapped to overhead racks
front and back. And two large gas bottles.
The ute pulls up and three people get out. Dad, an
older man and a guy that I guess to be about the same age as William or Jake.
Dad introduces us. "Jed, this is my other son, Kurt.
Kurt, Jed is the plumber and his nephew is Charlie." We all shake hands.
`Other son'? I guess that means that they've met Karl
back at the homestead.
Dad explains to me that Jed has arrived later than
expected because, when he found out from `our' Mr Cameron, also a friend of his,
that he was going to bring a farm hand out here and pick up another one in The
Village on the way, Jed offered to transport them both. And that `Jacko' had
not been expecting their early arrival, so he was the real cause of the delay.
The two farm hands have been dropped at the homestead
and are going to help Karl bring up the horses from one of the southern
paddocks.
Dad and Jed discuss where the water heater and the gas
bottles should be located. Also, the gas `fire'. Charlie and I follow them
around and listen in.
Jed is older than my Dad but
not as old as Mr Cameron. He has a short brown beard, with a few streaks of
grey, and is `thinning' on top. Friendly face and a nice smile.
Charlie, his nephew, is one of the tallest young guys
that I've ever seen. And thin. I suppose that he would be useful getting in and
out of confined spaces! I wouldn't call him handsome. Rather plain, actually.
Nothing outstanding except a little patch of whiskers on the end of his chin
and the beginning of a thin moustache below his pointy nose. No bulge in the
front of his jeans (which I checked out pretty quickly) and no real backside
either; just flat. But, pleasant to talk to. That makes up for everything else!
I jokingly ask him, "So, Charlie, do you play
basketball?"
He replies, "That's the only reason that I stayed at
school for as long as it did! The coach nearly cried when I told him that my
uncle was offering me an apprenticeship and that I would be leaving."
His grin tells me that he also has a sense of humour.
I like him.
I show Charlie what Helen prepared for breakfast. He
replies, "Thanks, Kurt. We did bring some of our own for lunch, but bacon, eggs
and hash browns will be great to have with it."
Dad and I head back towards the bunkhouse and Dad lets me drive.
I park the Land Rover alongside the shed with the
quadbikes. A guy comes out of where the horse stalls are. I recognise him from
out at Jintabudjaree the day that Mr Grant became its owner. He's one of
Marty's friends.
"Howdy, young fella!" he tells me, extending his hand.
"I'm Jacko. And you must be Kurt, because the other one of you is Karl."
I grin. He grins. I like him.
Another body appears from the semi-darkness. This will
obviously be Mr Cameron's recommended person.
"G'day, Champ," he smiles broadly, grasping my hand
tightly and holding on.
"Ron!" I gasp.
(to be continued)
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The parallel
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concluded.
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