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 62:
"Prince Fabian jumped
down from his horse and hugged his son. `Your mother and I were very worried
about you,' he said, `after your horse came back without you.' Goldilocks told
his father that he was looked after by seven small men, treated well and who
sent some flowers to his mother, `Snow White'.
"Prince Fabian,
smiled and said, `The Dwarfs! It was through them that I met your mother. How
can I ever thank them?'
"Goldilocks
replied, `They don't appear to need anything, but I think that they would love
to see my mother, Princess Flora, their `Snow White' again.
His father
declared, `And so they will!'
Helen concluded, "And
THEN they all lived happily ever after".
We all clap, and
Karl offers to make her, and everyone else, a fresh cup of coffee.
"Is there any more
cake?" William asks.
Chapter 63 – New Knowledge
I
honestly don't know where he puts it all!
I look at Mr Grant's face and I can't tell whether his
expression is one of simple disbelief that his brother would ask for more cake,
or one of embarrassment.
However, Helen, in her kind, motherly voice replies,
"Of course, Will. And I'm glad that somebody else is happy to have it on their
waist-line instead of it going onto mine!"
Karl makes everyone a coffee, and Helen gives William
the whole 3-slice-size chunk of cake that is left.
Now he looks embarrassed for asking and at everyone
staring at him, but we all enjoy the moment, at his expense! However, he still eats
all of it.
Tubby! Piggy! LOL.
I sense that having to leave Jacko behind, Karl might
be experiencing the same feelings as I am at saying goodbye to Ron, even though
it's only for five days.
We all head back to Jintabudjaree.
And, wow, do I have a lot to tell Andy about my
weekend! Not all of it, but lots of it!
In bed, side-by-side with my brother in `our blue
room' at Jintabudjaree, I feel that it is time for me to share a few things
with him.
But, first things first!
Even though it's night, with the curtains pulled back
there is still enough light to see.
Cupping his balls in my hand, I say, "Karl, can we
talk?"
He replies, "Do you mean `CAN we?' or `MAY we?'" And
he jiggles my balls to emphasise his quoting of one of Mr Grant's English
lessons.
"Very funny!" I answer. Without wanting to debate
correct English, I get straight to the point, "How are you feeling about everything
that happened this weekend?"
"Terrific!" he replies. "When you told me that I might
meet new people and make friends with some of them, I didn't really believe
you, or imagine that it could happen so soon!"
"Well, you've told me about the fun that you had with
Jacko," I say, "so what do you think of him... apart from what's in his pants?"
"You mean, apart from his magic wand?" my brother asks,
giving my Junior a squeeze.
"Yes, and apart from these," I say, jiggling his balls,
causing him to jump then laugh.
"Well, he's really handsome, but it's interesting that
you should ask!" Karl tells me. "Even though Jacko's as old as Mr Grant, in
some of the things that he says and does he seems to be more like William or
Jake or me."
I know exactly what Karl means. To me, Jacko seems
like a young guy in an older body.
"Do you think that is why the pair of you got on so
well together?" I ask Karl. "Because, on the inside he's more like us than the
other adults?"
"Yes. Probably," Karl answers. "He seems to think like
us and wants to play like us and have fun like us. He's just different on the
outside. But, hey, I don't mind that he has a long dick and low-hanging balls!
He sort-of reminds me of Jake and Marty down there."
"But, you've never played with Jake's or Marty's, have
you?" I put to him. "And you DID get to play with Jacko's!"
"Yeah!" Karl replies. "And he even tells funny jokes,
too!"
"Like what?" I ask
"Like, `What do farm hands make when the sun come
up?'"
"Breakfast?" I answer.
"No..." Karl says, "Shadows!" and he laughs, causing
his balls to jiggle in my hand.
"Not bad," I tell him.
"And this one, he says. `What can you catch if your
horse sneezes on you?"
"I don't know," I answer.
"BRONC-itis!" Karl replies and laughs even more, shaking
his whole body.
Yes, it does appear that Jacko and my brother are
well-matched, mentally! I'm not saying anything negative about Karl, but it
seems that Jacko's handsome body has outgrown his mind. However, he seems to be
quite a nice guy, from what I have seen of him. Also, Marty has said that he is
a hard worker and an expert horse wrangler. And, if my brother wants to be with
him, and be like him, Karl might learn to work harder. His more recent positive
attitude is a great start!
"OK. It seems that Jacko has a great sense of humour,"
I tell my brother. Here's one that you can ask him... `How can you ride into town
on Friday and leave 3 days later on Friday?"
"That's crazy," Karl says. Then, after considering it
more, he adds, "It's impossible to ride into town on Friday and then leave
three days later on Friday!"
"Give up?" I ask him.
"Yeah! Tell me!" Karl says, tightening his grip. "How
is that possible?"
"Easy," I say, "Friday is the name of your horse!"
My brother takes a few moments to ponder the question
and the answer, then absolutely erupts into laughter, "Jacko will never work
that one out! Brilliant! Thanks!"
Karl and I settle into our usual mutual feeling and
tickling and exciting of each other's body.
Then I tell my brother, "Why don't you pretend that I
am Jacko, and do to me whatever you would like to do to him."
"Really?" he replies.
"Yeah. Go for it!" I say to him. "What would you do if
he was right here instead of me?"
Karl starts to tell me, "Well, first, I would..."
"Don't tell me. Just do it," I say to him.
I close my eyes to imagine that I am Jacko. I feel my
brother's hand run up and down my stomach and chest. Bypassing Junior, his hand
then heads for my balls. Jacko's balls. Interesting! He plays with them in a
way that he has never done with me before. He holds them. He lifts them. He
rolls them, like juggling two golf balls one-handed. He bounces them in his
hand. He grips them around the top, separating them from my body and from
Junior.
This actually feels good! And I groan.
Only then does he progress to playing with what has
now become very hard. And not only what is outside my body. He rubs the
firmness that is under my balls, before following it all of the way to the top
and discovers the slipperiness of Junior's excitement. He goes slowly. Then
rapidly. He points it downwards which makes the head tight and way more
sensitive. Then slow again, feeling and rubbing it. Did Jacko teach him this?
Or did William?
Then he tells me, "Now turn onto your side, facing
me," and he proceeds to `milk the cow'. Hey! I taught him that! And I'm glad
that I did. He's doing it amazingly well! I wonder how much practice he's had
on William.
When I start to feel `the tingles' down below, I get
him to stop.
"Enough, Karl!" I groan. "I don't want to spurt yet,
until you're ready too."
"Were you enjoying that?" he asks. "Because I was,
pretending that you were Jacko!"
I answer him, "Jacko says, `Thanks, mate. That was
terrific!'" and Karl chuckles at me pretending to be his new friend.
"So, now, who do you want me to be for you?" my
brother asks. "Mr Grant or Ron?"
"Andy!" I tell him. Karl knows that I've played with
Andy. However, there are two things that he doesn't know about Andy and me, and
I'm about to reveal only one of them! Then I say, "Lie on your back."
With what I am about to do, I don't want to suggest
Ron or Mr Grant in case Karl supposes that I've already done it with either of
them! Even though I have. With both.
I begin by playing with his chest and stomach, like he
did to me. However, instead of progressing lower, I roll on top of him, face to
face. Or, more correctly, dick to dick. I begin to slide up and down and from
side to side, sword fighting! LOL. We've done that before!
But then I kiss his neck and Karl shudders, but says
nothing, except to groan.
Sliding lower, I lick his nipples then run my tongue
down the ridge between his abs and tickle his belly button. I lick his balls
and take one at a time into my mouth, like Ron did to me, then do with my
tongue and mouth what Karl did with his fingers.
It's only when I run my tongue from below his balls up
the entire length of his stiffness that he actually speaks. "What are you going
to do?" he asks, sounding concerned.
"Shhh!" I tell him.
And my brother gets his very first blow job!
I can tell from Karl's reactions that William, true to
his word, has never done this with him.
His initial concern at having his dick in my mouth
soon turns to relaxation and then pleasure. As I push down and suck up, I keep
glancing at Karl's face. His eyes are closed. His head is back. His mouth is
open, like when he snores. He is not breathing; he is silently gasping.
I slide my hands around his hips and rest them under
his backside and I enjoy the feeling of his glutes contracting each time I push
down on his erection. It doesn't take long, with a bit of encouragement from my
hands, for Karl to start pushing up each time that I slide down. His gasping
turns to groans of enjoyment. I'm tempted to cover his mouth so that Mr Grant won't
hear him.
However, I keep going and he keeps moaning. I'm amazed
that, right now, Karl's dick seems to be the longest and stiffest that I've
ever felt it.
I know his body. I recognise the signs. He's gonna
spurt really soon!
So am I, because of the pleasure that I know that I'm
giving him. I pull my mouth off him and my hand takes over. He automatically
reaches for Junior and we synchronise our wanking of each other. Fast.
We don't spurt. We explode! All over his belly and
chest and, possibly, his face. I lay my body back down onto his and we both continue
panting.
When he is able to speak, he half-moans, whispering,
"Fucking hell! Where did that come from?"
"You liked that, didn't you?" I answer, smiling in the
dim light and pleased with myself.
"Who taught you...? When did you...? How long have you...?"
he tries to ask.
My only response is, "Andy."
After cleaning our bodies with the spunk rag, Karl asks,
"How long is it since Andy was here? The last school holidays! And you've known
how to do that for all of this time, and you never showed me?"
"I wanted to," I answer him. "But Andy and I promised
not to tell anyone. Anyway, when I spoke with him earlier, he said that it was fine
to do it with you."
"But why now?" Karl asks. There is a hint of annoyance
in his voice because I have enjoyed something that he hasn't.
"Remember yesterday?" I ask him, "When you assured me
that you had done nothing more with Jacko than what you and I had done?"
"Absolutely true!" Karl replies. "And...?" he asks.
"It still applies!" I tell him. Then I add, very slowly,
"Nothing more with Jacko than what you and I have done!"
I love my brother, but sometimes he is a bit slow. I
guess that he and Jacko really could make ideal friends!
"Wait!" Karl suddenly blurts out. "Do you mean that it
would be OK if Jacko and I did what you and I just did?"
"That was exactly the reason why I checked with Andy
first!" I tell him. "And you've only got five nights with me to learn and to practise!"
Monday at school is `normal', except for all of the construction
work going on opposite.
Monday night, however, Karl stays with me to `learn
and practise' instead of sneaking over to spend time with William. He loves learning.
So do I.
And Mr Grant doesn't have the pleasure of my company tonight!
Tuesday. At lunchtime, while I'm leaning on the front
fence, watching a large truckload of pipes being unloaded, Mr Grant steps up
alongside me and asks, "Is everything OK, Kurt?
"Sure, Mr Grant," I answer. I turn and look at him. "Why?"
He says, "Will was concerned because he thought
something might have happened to Karl. And I was worried too when you didn't
come to snuggle up with me like you normally do on Monday nights."
"It's all good, Mr Grant," I say. "Karl and I had a
lot of things to talk about last night. I'm sorry that I didn't come in to see
you."
"So long as you are both OK," he tells me. "You don't need
to come in and be with me."
"But I like to," I say. "It's just... Karl and I need to
sort some things out before next weekend."
"Anything serious, may I ask?" Mr Grant says.
"No. Nothing serious," I answer. "Well, not bad
anyway. Karl and I are talking about how we can work with the two farm hands
that Dad has hired. We can't really discuss things when we are up there with
them, and at school we need to concentrate on our work."
"Is there a problem with the farm hands?" Mr Grant
asks me.
"No, Mr Grant," I tell him. "Just the opposite. Jacko
seems like a nice guy and he's going to help Karl learn all about the horses.
And you know that Ron and I have marked out one quad bike trail together, and
we'll probably do a few more. Plus, next weekend, Dad want Ron and me to paint
one of the workers' huts." Then I add, "Even though we already know Ron from
ages ago, we only met Jacko on Saturday."
"I've had a little bit to do with Jacko," Mr Grant
tells me. "He's a hard worker, and he can be very funny. I think that you'll
both enjoy having him around. In fact, if your father hadn't hired him, I was
thinking of offering him some work out at Jintabudjaree. I still will when the
work in here is finished."
There are two things that I would like to ask Mr
Grant. One is about Jacko's apparent young brain in his older body. The other
is about why people get drunk and what effect that has on someone, like Jacko showing
people his `magic wand' in the hotel.
"May I ask you a question, Mr Grant?" I ask.
"Of course, Kurt," he replies, indicating that we
should take a few extra steps away from the few people near the gate.
"It's sort-of about Jacko, but not only him," I start,
then pause and take a deep breath. "You and my Dad both mentioned that Jacko
used to get drunk in the pub and show everyone his `magic wand', and then his
friends had to take him home. Mr Grant, why do people get drunk, and do weird
things?"
"Wow!" he replies. "That's a really grown-up question,
Kurt, and it's more complicated than just a quick answer. Thank you for asking
me. I hope that I can give you a good answer."
"It's not just about Jacko," I say again. "William also
told us that his mother used to get drunk and do some awful things to him, like
destroying some of his paintings. Why do people do that?"
"Firstly, Kurt," Mr Grant tells me, "The main issues
are what people drink and then how much of it they have. Some drinks contain
more alcohol than others. A little of it can taste good. But, sometimes, people
find it hard to stop drinking, and too much of it can have a strange effect on
people, include not being able to stand properly, walk properly, talk properly
or think properly. And some people, when they can't control their body or their
minds, can do things like destroy things or hurt people or do weird things like
take out their `magic wands' and wave them around. Things that they wouldn't do
normally."
I know that my Dad drinks beer. But I've never seen
him do the strange things that Jacko or Aunt Lilly did when they had too much
of it. My Dad's smart. He doesn't have too much!
"Thank you, Mr Grant," I tell him. "That was a pretty
good answer!"
He ruffles my hair. "Any time, sport," he tells me.
"May I ask you another question?" I ask.
"Are you sure that you don't want to ask your father
these questions?" he says to me.
"I do ask him some things sometimes," I reply. "But
this one, I think that you would know better how to answer."
"OK. Try me," Mr Grant says.
"I'm not quite sure how to say it, Mr Grant," I start.
"But, why does Jacko seem to be a bit more of a big kid than an adult?"
He looks at me. Is that a question that I shouldn't
have asked about somebody?
"I'm sorry if that was not good manners," I say, "I
mean, Jacko's a really great guy and he has a man's body, but he doesn't seem
to be too much smarter than my brother. I mean, Karl is pretty smart,
sometimes, but not so smart at other times. Jacko seems like that too, from
what I saw of him on the weekend."
"It takes a smart person to ask a smart question,
Kurt," Mr Grant tells me. "And I reckon that both of your questions have been
smart ones."
"Thank you," I answer, understanding that he has just hinted
that I'm smart. "I reckon that you ask lots of smart questions too, Mr Grant,"
I tell him. I smile at him. He grins.
"I don't know whether you've ever heard the
expression, `Never judge a book by its cover'," he tells me. I shake my head,
and he continues, "That means that the outside isn't always a good indication
of what's on the inside. Sometimes it's better; sometimes it's not. Like
cooking. Sometimes food looks delicious but tastes dreadful, or doesn't look particularly
good but tastes great."
"Like the time that my mother accidentally put salt
into her peanut cookies instead of sugar," I suggest.
"Exactly," Mr Grant replies. "But things aren't always
just good or bad. Sometimes, they are just different."
"I know!" I tell him. "Like Helen's story of
`Goldilocks and the Seven Dwarfs'. It just wasn't what we expected."
"And people can be the same," Mr Grant tells me. People
don't have to be rich to dress well, and not everybody who dresses well is
rich. And, do you remember," he tells me, "When I first came here, Will
couldn't read, and everyone thought that he was stupid?"
"Yes, but he's not stupid, is he?" I ask. "He's an
incredible artist, who just hadn't learned to read well yet."
And I think... he was great at teaching me how to give
Andy a blow job!
"So maybe Jacko's mind just hasn't yet caught up with
his body," Mr Grant says. "That doesn't mean that there is anything wrong with
him. I think that his skill, like Will's painting ability, is to work hard at whatever
he does and to be good with horses. And now that he's given up drinking beer,
so that he doesn't have to worry about having too much of it, maybe everything
will all catch up."
"You're good at not only asking smart questions, Mr
Grant!" I tell him, which earns me ruffled hair. If we weren't outside, I'll
bet that I would have earned a good swat on the tail!
"Come on," he says, putting one hand on my shoulder.
"Let's go in and do some work."
Tuesday night Karl gets another lesson, and we both
sleep well. LOL.
Wednesday. The Village is `buzzing' with workers.
Machines dig trenches and most of the pipes disappear. The roof of the pub is
replaced and I see them put black things on the roof which Mr Grant tells us
are solar (sun) panels and explains how they work. Karl and I wave to our Dad,
who comes to say hello before he heads back to Whispering Gums for the night.
Wednesday night. Karl `practises' his sucking on me
first. Then I do him.
"Tomorrow night," I tell him, you had better spend
with William. But don't do that to him. That's just for me and Jacko! All
right?"
"OK," he tells me. "But, I think that he would enjoy
it too!"
I know that he does! So does Mr Grant! But I don't let
on.
Karl is actually pretty good at doing it! And Jacko is
going to be surprised and happy!
Thursday night. After dinner. We all go to bed early.
Karl sneaks across to William's room, and I visit Mr Grant's bed, and do to him
what I've been practising with Karl all week.
(to be continued)
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The parallel
version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, has
concluded.
Find `Schoolie' at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie
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