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)
Copyright 2013-2021. Robert
Armstrong. This complete work of literary art is protected by US,
Australian and International copyright law. It is the sole property of the
author and may not be reproduced in any form whether in whole or in part
without the prior express written consent of the author.
License is granted to Nifty Archive Alliance, Inc. for electronic publication
on the Nifty.org website. All rights reserved.
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 67:
After saying goodnight
to William and Mr Grant, Karl and I head for the shower.
It crosses my mind
how much stuff I've learned to do with William and Mr Grant and Ron! And how
wonderful it is to be able to `practise' with my brother! And, what I did with
Andy!
Hey, Andy told me
that he would teach me how to let him go all the way with me when he comes
back! He'll be here in a couple of weeks' time, for
the holidays and the wedding. Then he and I can enjoy together what Dad and
Helen do in bed! Junior is stiff at just the thought of it!
"You excited?"
Karl asks me, taking hold of Junior. "I'm sure that you're going to like this!"
He and I are
thinking of two different things, but he's right: I am going to enjoy what he
wants to show me.
Chapter 68 – Who am I?
When I step in, my brother is waiting for me with the
soap. "Just like we used to do," he tells me. I turn my back to him and he starts
to wash me, top to bottom and beyond.
I'm trying to remember the last time that we did this
together. It seems so long ago!
He soaps me up and not only rubs my back, but does between
my glutes as well. I relax and enjoy the feeling of the soap and his hands.
"OK. Turn around," he tells me. He works on my front,
but with much more experienced hands that he used to have. Junior is really
excited. Karl comments, "Wow! You're so stiff!"
"This had better be good!" I tell him; knowing that it
will be! "Now let me soap you up."
He hands me the soap and turns his back to me. So many
thoughts run through my mind as my soapy hands embrace his body. Especially memories
of being with Ron and Andy.
However, here I am with my brother, getting ready to push
our erections between each other's legs. And it was at his suggestion!
The thought stirs something deep inside of me. Not
just between my legs!
I let Karl take the lead. He presses his body behind
me and I feel him enjoying himself, rubbing his hard penis up and down my
glutes. Then he pulls back and pushes it between my legs. He groans, in obvious
pleasure. Then, he holds my hips, as tightly as Mr Grant did on the bike, and
he begins pushing forward and pulling back. Then speeds up; then slows down.
"You're really going to love doing this," he tells me,
as he continues his movements.
"Can you do it from the front?" I ask him. "I want to
watch your face."
I turn around, play sword fights for a few seconds,
then take his fully swollen dick in one hand and guide it under my balls which
I lift with my other hand. Then I rest my hands on his shoulders while he grips
my hips.
With us standing out of the direct stream of the
water, he resumes pushing. He looks at me, perhaps wondering why I've suggested
doing it this way, and then he closes his eyes.
I study him, closely. His blond hair, darkened by the
water, is flattened to one side of his face. Water is dripping from his
forehead, his nose, his chin. It reminds me of perspiration. His expression is
one of total pleasure. And I'm providing it for him! As his identical twin,
I could be looking at myself experiencing this pleasure! I feel Junior tighten
and jerk.
"Wait!" I tell him. "This feels so good for me that
I'm almost ready to spurt."
He immediately pulls back and turns around. "Do it to
me," he says. "Maybe use a bit more soap first. You'll like it better if it's
slippery."
I soap up his firm glutes – they're nice, just as
people comment about mine, then he parts his legs so that I can get the soap between
them and right through to his balls.
I give Junior a few rubs with my soapy right hand. It
feels as thick and as hard as I ever remember it being. And I immediately consider
how much I've grown in the past year! Dick. Balls. Hairs. Feelings. Spunk. Voice.
Adam's apple. OMG. I am growing up! Who am I?
Without waiting, I push Junior between my brother's legs
until it won't go through any more. The feeling of his glutes, which I hold
against my body, excites me even further.
"I can feel your hairs on my bum!" he tells me.
I respond by swaying my body from side to side,
rubbing my `chicken feathers' against his smooth skin. I'm also aware that, in
doing this, Junior seems to be playing underneath with Karl's balls at the
front of his body.
Then I start pushing and pulling back. Faster. Slower.
I groan in pleasure, but restrained and softly, so
that Mr Grant, next door, won't hear me. "Oh, Karl, you were right! This is
amazing."
"Do it from the front, like you got me to do," he
tells me. "Let me watch YOUR face!"
He turns around and lifts his balls. Junior knows
where to go!
Karl closes his legs tightly around Junior. I hold him
by the hips and begin thrusting Junior in and out. I close my eyes, becoming totally
unaware of Karl watching my face. I'm fully overwhelmed by engaging in this
pleasure with my twin brother.
I open my eyes, look into his, and warn him, gritting
my teeth, "Gonna spurt!"
At the moment just before letting go, I freeze with my
hands gripping his body tightly, and with Junior as far forward as I can push him.
Then I shiver and erupt. Massively.
"Me too!" Karl groans. "Aargh!" And I feel his body
spasm and the white stuff from his dick squirts up between our stomachs and
chests. We grip each other's body for support.
It crosses my mind that this is probably as close as
I'll ever get to `going all the way' with my brother! As close as `giving
ourselves to each other'! I automatically think of Andy, and what I did with
him, and what he is going to do with me when he comes to visit.
Even though Karl and I let the shower water rinse
everything off our bodies, Junior is still stiff. So is Karl's.
"Let's dry off and play a bit more in bed," I tell
him. "You can practise your sucking a bit more for Jacko!"
"Can you spurt twice?" he asks.
I grin. "Let's find out!"
He replies, "If you can, then I can!"
Monday, I'm eager to get to school so that I can spend
every bit of spare time outside watching what the workmen are doing.
I had forgotten that Ash said he was going to bring
over the plans for us to look at. He and Dad turn up at the beginning of lunch
time and Mr Grant suggests that they spread out the plans on the craft-room
tables.
Apart from showing us drawings and plans, Ash has
photographs of models that were made. It's what he thinks everything will be
like when the work is finished. Are you kidding me? It all seems... incredible!
Our streets are going to look even way better than where Ma and Pa and Mum
live!
Ash talks us through everything. He points out on the
plans what is been done, plus what work is planned to be carried out next. And,
what the schedule is for doing the rest. By Christmas, some of the houses will
be finished and by the time school returns at the beginning of next year,
everything should be completed. We will have a New Village!
Monday night, while Karl is over in William's bed, I
get to spend some time with Mr Grant. He doesn't push me to do anything. Just
hugging. And playing. And talking. No volcanic eruptions tonight! I enjoy the
heat of his body behind me, and on me, as I had asked him.
During Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday in The Village,
construction work progresses much faster than I had expected. Even Mr Grant is
surprised.
By the end of the week, the pub is already looking
amazing with its repaired stonework and windows. We watch some final solar
panels being lifted onto the shiny, re-tinned roof, and see the preparations
for the replaced `sidewalk', which Mr Grant tells me is an American expression.
We would call it a footpath, or a broad verandah, or walkway. Like in Big Town.
The big pipes have all been buried, and I can see the
formation of where each of the houses is going to be. Exactly like on Ash's
plans.
At lunchtime on Friday, we see a truck arrive, coming
down the road from Cunnamulla, carrying a huge round thing. It looks like one
of Ma's wooden cotton reels, only this one is gigantic!
"What's that thing, Mr Grant?" I ask him, as everybody
comes out to look, not only from the school but also from the pub.
"I pretty sure," he replies, "that it's the spool of special,
long pipe which has small holes in it which Ash said will
be used to water the grass that they are going to plant. As he showed us on the
plan, across the road from the school, it will be buried in a spiral, from the
water tanks, to cover the whole area of what will become the new Village Green,."
"Is that why it's called the `Village Green', Mr
Grant?" I ask. "Because it will have green grass."
"Exactly!" he replies. "Very different from the brown
weeds, that were there when I arrived here at the beginning of the year."
"Yes," I tell him. "And, with no snakes!" Then I add,
"We've never had grass around here, as long as I can remember. I only know what
it looks like from visiting Ma and Pa in Brisbane and from some one of the parks
that I saw in Cunnamulla. And a small patch where our bath and kitchen water used
to empty out."
Mr Grant replies, "If the final result looks anything
like the plans and pictures that Ash showed us, it will be magnificent!"
At the end of the day, Dad arrives, to take us
straight back to Whispering Gums. I don't mind at all spending more time with
Helen and Ron and Jacko. Especially Ron!
"I need a shower!" Dad tells us, as he drives. "It's
been a hard day!"
"You sure do!" Karl tells him, holding his nose and
grinning from the passenger's seat alongside him.
Then there is a loud yelp! Although I can't see what
happened, I'll bet that Dad has just given Karl one of
his `special above-the-knee death grips'!
Normally, Karl would get really sulky at being grabbed
that way. Instead, he grabs Dad back, hollering "Payback!" Hopefully in the
same manner! If I was next to Karl instead of Dad, I'll bet that Karl's
response to me would have been a scrunch-grip on my balls!
Dad doesn't even flinch, which takes some of the fun
out of Karl's `payback', I'm sure!
When we arrive, we are met by Jacko and Ron, walking
from the sheds towards the house.
Helen emerges. Taking a look at everyone, she points
at Dad and tells him, "You need a shower." Then addressing the farm hands, she
says, "And you two had better clean up before dinner too," pointing at the
bunkhouse. "It will be ready in less than 30 minutes."
Then she stares at Karl and me, with one hand on her
hip. She doesn't need to say anything! I glance at Karl. After our dusty Friday
sport, if I look anything like him, then we both need a bit of freshening up!"
Karl answers Helen's stare with, "Well, if Dad's using
the shower in the house, Kurt and I had better use the ones in the bunkhouse.
Dad will take forever! I'll just get a change of clothes from my room first."
Bunkhouse shower with Jacko and Ron? This could be
interesting!
I think I catch some grins between Jacko and Ron, then
they head for the bunkhouse. Karl and I follow Helen and Dad towards the house.
Neither Dad, nor Helen, showed any surprise or concern
at the possibility of his two teenage boys showering with the two adult farm
hands. Dad knows that Karl and I have had a bath or have showered together
since we were little, and I remember the morning, at the start of the year,
when he saw Ron and me showering together in the bunkhouse, both with
erections. His only comment then was, "It's only natural for us guys in the
morning, isn't it?" And I've always reckoned that he said it that morning as an
excuse for his own semi woody.
Karl and I collect some fresh underpants, a clean pair
of jeans and a polo shirt, And clean socks. Boots are boots! We head towards
the bunkhouse together.
"What do you reckon is gonna happen?" Karl asks me,
almost skipping. I can't tell whether he's excited or apprehensive. Or
apprehensively excited. Or excitedly apprehensive. English!
"Hopefully, nothing," I answer him.
"Why not?" he replies, looking at me as some kind of
party pooper.
"I'd just like to get clean. And as quickly as
possible," I answer. "And, don't you think that it would look suspicious if it
took the four of us the full half an hour to freshen up? Or even fifteen
minutes? Besides, I don't think that you want Ron and me watching you and Jacko
playing with each other. And I wouldn't want to do anything with Ron with you
two looking at us. And I definitely don't even want to think about Jacko and
Ron together! Do you?"
"I wouldn't mind seeing what two grown men do with
each other," Karl says, grinning.
We push the shower room door open to discover the two
farm hands already showering together, but apart. No erections, even though the
hot water has caused some lengthening. Just two men cleaning up under separate
shower heads.
"Hey, Champ!" Ron says. "Come on in. I'm nearly done.
I just need to rinse off the soap."
"Hey, Dude!" Jacko says to my brother. "Let's not keep
Helen waiting." Then, instead of hanging back for Karl to join him, Jacko steps
out and grabs a towel.
I'm pleasantly surprised by both Jacko and Ron. Being
naked isn't always about sex, although Junior seems to think so! But not now,
thankfully.
The farm hands leave Karl and me, just washing
ourselves instead of washing each other. It actually feels good; sort-of
mature. Grown up.
I think of nights when I've wished that I could simply
go back to hearing a bed-time story, or just getting tucked in and being kissed
goodnight! That's what I want tonight. No sex. I hope that Karl will understand.
Being more grown up can be fun, but so was being a kid!
"Hey!" Karl suddenly tells me. "Washing up! Last ones
at the table. Remember? Quick!"
We turn off the taps, dry ourselves as quickly as
possible and hang the wet towels on the hooks. I pull on my undies, socks and
jeans when I hear Ron and Jacko walk past the door. I yank my shirt down over
my head and gather my other clothes. Karl is keeping up with me.
"Quick!" he repeats. And we dash out towards the house
and pass the two farm hands. We make a bee-line for our rooms. I throw my
clothes onto my bed then head back to the dining table.
Karl and I both manage to sit down with Dad just as
Ron and Jacko come through the door.
"What was all that about?" Dad asks, his finger
tracing our path from the door to our rooms.
"Oh, nothing," Karl says. "Except, maybe, about
washing dishes." He emphasises the `washing dishes', pointing at Jacko and Ron.
Then he and I burst out laughing.
Despite making threatening motions with their hands,
Jacko and Ron are grinning. So, it's all good.
Dad, shakes his head, smiling.
After another one of Helen's delicious dinners, and
while the farm hands gain more experience at being kitchen hands, Dad reminds
us that we will be going to Cunnamulla in the morning for the weekend and the
reasons why.
"We'll leave after breakfast," he says. "Then have
some morning tea in Cunnamulla before going to get fitted for our wedding
clothes."
Helen adds, "I'm going to drop you all off after
morning tea, then go and visit some friends, hand deliver some invitations to
the wedding, and meet with Bill O'Rourke to finalise some details."
The farm hands join us for some cards, coffee and
cake. And we even allow Jacko win a few games of dominoes. Us letting him win
isn't necessary! But it's fun to pretend that we do. Through all of the games,
I try to remember what Jacko said, about which tiles haven't been put down yet
and when people have to pick up. I practise. I'm getting it.
Ron and Jacko say goodnight. Karl and I hug Dad and
Helen and then head to our rooms. "It's OK," Dad calls after us. "I'll wash up."
I know that he's making a joke about the coffee mugs!.
I lie in bed and think. Then I put my pyjamas on and
go back out to the lounge room. Dad and Helen are having another cup of coffee.
"Anything wrong, son?" Dad asks, surprised to see me.
"No," I answer him, then add, "May you please come and
tuck me in?"
Dad and Helen look at each other. It's a `what is
going on?' expression.
"Sure!" Dad answers, and gets up from his chair.
Making sure that both sides are untucked, I climb into
bed.
Dad follows me into my room and closes the door. "Is
everything all right, Kurt?" he asks. "Do you need to talk to me about
something? Is it about the wedding, or school or Karl or the farm hands?"
"No," I answer him. "Everything's fine. I just wanted
to remember what it was like being tucked in and kissed goodnight."
Dad looks at me,
and I think that see a tear in his eye. "Is it OK if I ask Helen to join us?"
he asks.
I'm not sure whether that's an excuse to turn his back
and wipe his eyes, and I say, "Sure!"
Dad goes out and returns a few seconds later with
Helen. They close the door. Dad sits on one side of my bed at the bottom, with
Helen on the other side.
"We thought that you were getting too big to want to
be tucked in," Helen tells me. "Your Dad and I talked about it. You're becoming
quite a young man!"
"I don't think that I'll ever be too big for a
goodnight hug and a kiss," I reply. "Besides, getting tucked in is just an
excuse to get close to one another, isn't it?"
Dad and Helen grin.
"You are going to make a wonderful big brother," Helen
says, strangely glancing between Dad and me.
I'm shocked. Well, surprised. Well, maybe not
surprised!
"What do you mean?" I ask.
Dad reaches across my bed and takes Helen's hand. Then
he says, "Helen is pregnant. We are going to have a baby. Would you like a
brother or a sister?"
"Wow? How did that happen?" I ask.
The expressions on their faces are priceless! Do they
really think that I don't know about sex and that they need to explain
everything?
"It's OK," I tell them. "I'm only joking! I know how
it happens. And the answer is `Yes'."
"What answer to what is `yes'?" Dad asks.
"Well, you said would I like a brother or a sister.
And my answer is yes, I would. I didn't think that you were offering me a
choice."
The three of us laugh together.
"Now, can we ask you something?" Dad says.
I nod. "Sure."
"Please let us tell Karl, in our own time. And in the
meantime, don't say anything to anyone."
"Deal!" I say, extending my fist to bump as a
clincher.
Dad bumps my fist. Helen, instead, grabs me in a hug,
kisses me and says, "Thank you."
"I have a request of my own," I tell them.
"Yes?" they both ask together.
"When can Karl and I hear another one of your Goldilocks stories?"
Helen smiles. "I've been thinking about it," she tells
me. "How about Goldilocks and Peter Pan in Neverland?"
"Excellent!" I tell her. "But there's no hurry! Just
letting you know."
They both tuck me in, one on each side. Then more hugs
and kisses before the lights go out.
I lie awake. Happy. Then, as I drift off, I feel
myself beginning to picture things and dream.
From the story of Peter Pan that I know, I see Wendy
and John and Michael. Michael and I are playing with his teddy bear. I imagine
that their faces look like Helen and Dad and Karl. But where am I? Who am I?
And I find myself on the pirate ship, looking down at
Captain Hook with fluffy feathers in his big hat and with his sword drawn,
swishing it about. I see lots of his pirates on the deck of the ship pointing
up at me. They have eyepatches and coloured handkerchiefs around their heads.
Lots of colours – red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple. I think for a
moment that they have no pants on. I can see everything! Then I blink and they
are fully dressed again. Some faces look like Marty and William and Jake and
Ron and Jacko. Who am I?
And I find myself in the Indian village, with everyone
dancing around the camp fire. It feels like a corroboree and I'm doing the emu
dance. Among the faces, I think that I see Uncle and Andy and Mr Grant. But, who am I?
And I'm playing tag with the lost boys. Some of their
names are `Big John' and `Little John' and `Will-in-Scarlet' and
`Robin-in-hood'. Two of them look like David and Little Eric. So, who am I?
And, I'm playing hide and seek with Tinkerbell. Who
does she look like? And who am I?
I hear the rooster crowing. I open one eye and imagine
having roast chicken for lunch!
I try to recall my dreams, and imagine that I must have
been Peter Pan, the boy who didn't want to grow up. Was he afraid of growing up?
I'm not really afraid to grow up, but I don't want to
lose those warm, fuzzy feelings of playing with a teddy bear, or hearing
bedtime stories, or playing pirates with my wooden sword or doing crazy dances
around a camp fire, or playing tag and hide and seek.
The rooster crows again. And I need to pee. And Junior
lets me know that he's definitely not afraid of growing up! And I'm going to be
a big brother!
(to be continued)
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Thank you to everyone who contacted me recently to
express your support!
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If you like the story, and haven't said 'hello'
yet, please take a couple of minutes to email me.
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The partly-parallel
version to this story, `Schoolie', told through the eyes of Tom Grant, gives
the backstory specifically for Tom, William, Andy and Jintabudjaree.
Find `Schoolie' at https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-youth/schoolie
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If you're interested, I have 26 (A-Z) short stories
at
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/massage-tales
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