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 2013-2022.  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 77:

I feel an encouraging arm around my shoulders and, expecting it to be Ron who has recently come to understand my closeness to Andy (almost), I'm surprised to see that it's my Dad.

"Don't worry, son," he tells me. "You'll see him again before you know it and, thanks to Tom's generosity, you and Andy can keep in touch every day!"

I love my Dad.

I look into his very understanding eyes, feel his love for me, and I try really hard not to cry. He and I both acknowledge, without spoken words, that I'm not a little kid anymore!

 

Chapter 78 – Don't Mention Sausages!

The drive back to Whispering Gums is rather quiet.

Not being a little kid anymore keeps running through my brain.

Some stories that Mum used to read to us don't interest me now. Like Scuffy the Tugboat and Chicken Little. I'm more interested in stories with men and boys in them.

I remember the days, after reading Treasure Island, when I used to take my wooden sword and kill imaginary pirates between our house and the school. Now, I'm wondering what Jim Hawkins' dick was like. Was it thicker, like mine? Or longer, like Andy's? And what would his balls look like, and feel like? And did he have hairs?

And, as well as saving damsels in distress and slaying dragons, did the Knights of the Round Table muck around with their young squires in private, like Ron does with me and Jacko does with my brother?

And, what about Peter Pan? What did he do for fun with the lost boys? Did they feel each other's hard-ons when they got one, like Karl and I did when we were younger? Or more? And, did Peter wear tights so that you could see the clear outline of his cock and balls, like when Archie pulled his pants right up?

And, will I ever want to fuck a girl? Could it be better than Andy and I giving ourselves to each other?

I don't hear whatever Dad and Helen are saying. Without Andy here, I'm really not in the mood for having meaningless conversations with anyone, despite Ron's best attempts to cheer me up.

Even Junior doesn't respond to Ron's encouraging hand, feeling and rubbing it so that Dad and Helen can't see what he's doing.

It's only when Ron puts his mobile phone on his lap and begins to make it jump, like how Andy and I were doing, that I feel a smile return to my face, and a feeling of heaviness seems to leave me.

I'm suddenly very hungry.

"What's for dinner?" I ask. "And how long before we get home?"

"Welcome back!" Dad tells me. "Only about another 20 minutes now."

Yes, I'm back to reality! I have two boyfriends. One that I enjoy sucking and one that I love fucking. But that's not all that I like about them. We have other connections apart from sex!

"I did cook extra Chinese last night," Helen says. "And it won't take long to heat it up."

"Yum! Thanks," I tell her. I ask, "Do we have chopsticks at home? I think that I'm getting the hang of using them!"

"No. I don't think so," Helen answers. "Maybe we can buy some the next time that we go to Cunnamulla."

Ron asks, "What about some knitting needles? He could practise with those!"

I hope he's joking!

"Sorry, Kurt," Helen says to me. "You'll have to make do with a spoon and fork."

Dad comments, "And, if you don't want to shovel your food in so fast, like somebody else that we know, you could always use a teaspoon!"

I wonder whether William actually tastes anything before it gets from his lips to his stomach!

Ah, yes. William! And Mr Grant! And my brother! And what about Ash? And even Marty?

Growing up is complicated!

My phone vibrates and I hear the SMS alert tone. It's easier to fish out with only two of us in the back.

Reading Karl's message, I announce, "They're just leaving Marty's place."

"Did he say what they had for dinner?" Helen asks.

"No," I tell her. Then I add, grinning to Ron, "But I know that Marty likes sausages!"

"What kind of sausages does he like?" Helen asks.

"Oh, all sorts," I reply. "I'm not sure exactly. There seemed to be some different ones the couple of times Mr Grant took Karl and Andy and me there for breakfast."

Ron turns his face to me and gives me a quick half-frown – to not say too much, and even to be careful hinting at it! This is the second time in two days that local `sausages' have been mentioned with Dad and Helen around!

"Are they tasty?" Helen asks.

I'm looking at Ron. I have to answer Helen's question, but also to be careful!

I keep it brief. "Yes."

"Where does he buy them from?" Dad asks. "If they're that good, maybe we should get some too.

`Think quick, Kurt!' I tell myself.

"I don't think he's ever mentioned a specific place, but probably somewhere local," I say.

Ron comes to my rescue.

"Actually," he tells Dad, "I wouldn't go to too much trouble! What Helen cooks is much better than Marty's sausages could ever be!"

"Another silver tongue!" Helen says, turning to grin at Ron.

"It's OK," Dad says. "I'll ask him myself tomorrow in The Village."

I suddenly feel sick! Dad is going to ask Marty about the sausages?

Now what? There is no way, before tomorrow, of warning Marty to stick to talking about his actual food, nothing else! He doesn't have a satellite phone like Karl and I do. And, Karl is already on his way home!

Ron must read the expression on my face as a cry for help! Or, perhaps, my aura has changed to a terrible colour.

"Are you going to spend all day in there?" Ron asks my Dad.

"No," Dad replies. "Maybe stay a couple of hours. I should be back for lunch."

"Mind if I tag along?" Ron puts to him. "Uncle Jim asked me how the work was progressing and I had to tell him that I didn't know. It would be a good opportunity to talk to Ash and Marty and see for myself, and then I can update him on my way back to Sydney."

"Good idea!" Dad says. Then he comes up with another idea. "How would you two like a day's work tomorrow, like Jacko and Karl did today? And I'll stay in there and help out too."

Not bad! I reckon that if Ron and I go with Dad, one of us should be able to get to Marty to explain our `sausage' conversation before Dad can.

And Ash too, in case Dad gets to ask him about dinner and Marty's variety of sausages!

 

Shower done. Pyjamas on. It felt strange preparing to go to bed, alone in my own room, without Andy! I enjoy playing dominoes with Dad, Helen and Ron.

Soon, I hear Jacko and Karl arrive back in the ute.

"I've prepared some supper," Helen says. "I'll bet that they'd both like some coffee and cake.

"Do you both need a shower?" Dad asks as they appear in the doorway.

"It's OK," Jacko tells him, and for Helen's benefit. "We cleaned up at Marty's before dinner."

Dad looks at Karl. "Why don't you get ready for bed too, son, then come and join us. Helen will get some coffee and cake for you both. And, we're all looking forward to hearing about your day, including dinner at Marty's!"

"I think that I'll go and change into something more comfortable too," Jacko says, then he heads back towards the bunkhouse, followed by Ron, giving an excuse about needing to use the toilet in the bunkhouse.

"And I'll go and fill Karl in about what we did in Cunnamulla," I tell Dad and Helen.

"Well, it looks as though serving supper is just you and me," Helen says to Dad.

I follow Karl into his room, and close the door.

"We have a problem!" I tell him. "What did you have for dinner?"

"What?" my brother asks. "Why is that a problem?"

"Did you have sausages?" I put to him.

"No, but..." he starts to answer.

"Then don't mention sausages at all!" I say. "And if Dad and Helen ask, change the subject!"

"What's going on?" he says, stopping, with his jeans and underpants on the floor and his pyjamas still in his hand.

"That!" I say, pointing at his same-as-mine dick. Nice! "On the way home, I happened to mention about Marty having different sausages at his place. I thought that it was funny at the time but, tomorrow, Dad is going to ask him which ones he likes best."

"So, you're telling me that you stuffed something up?" Karl grins. "You? Mr Perfect?"

I ignore his dig at me.

"Well, if Dad or Helen ask about Marty's sausages, can you please tell them that they're not that good, and that Helen's cooking is way better?" I almost plead. "I don't want Dad asking Marty too many questions. Just imagine if he said to Marty something like, `I hear that you like to have a lot of different sausages at your place', what do you reckon Marty will think?"

Karl answers, "Marty would think that somebody blabbed about his dress code, and about him having us kids walk around naked with him and Ash and everyone else. He could be in deep shit! I get it!"

"Exactly!" I say. "Are we on the same page? Can you do your bit to throw Dad and Helen off the track?"

"It'll cost you!" Karl replies. He grins and adds, "In my bed, tonight!"

"Agreed!" I tell him, and we bump fists. Best price I've ever paid to seal a deal!

And I wonder whether he and Jacko had a chance to do anything! I'll find out later.

 

Helen is cutting the cake and Dad is arranging the mugs of coffee when Jacko and Ron appear.

Ron immediately looks at me then touches the side of his nose. Hopefully, that means he has filled Jacko in on the `sausages' issue. All good!

I turn from Ron to Jacko, and he gives me a brief `thumbs up'.

I grin, relieved.

We all relax, cake in one hand and coffee in the other.

"So," Dad starts, "How was the work?" He grins, "What did the `slave drivers' have you doing?"

My Dad has a great sense of humour!

"Well, after giving us a `site induction' and introducing us to everybody," Jacko replies, "Ash took us on a tour of the work in the pub, and pointed out things that we could do to help – moving things, cleaning up and generally keeping out of the way of the workers.

Karl says, "Then, he pointed out all of the work going on outside and asked if I remembered the plans that he showed us when he came to the school. And we walked along the two streets and saw how much had been already done and Ash told us how we could help. Same thing mainly – cleaning up but taking care to keep out of everyone's way."

"And we had morning tea with all of the guys sitting out on the new, wooden walkway outside the pub," Jacko says.

"And lunch in the dining room!" Karl butts in. "Roast pork. Yum!"

"What about dinner at Marty's?" Helen asks. "How was that?"

"Lamb chops with vegetables, then peaches and ice cream," Jacko says. "Nice, but not as good as your cooking!" he says, turning to Helen.

"Don't forget the mint sauce," Karl adds. "Marty said that his mother taught him to make it."

Home-made mint sauce? I'll have to check that out in Mrs Cameron's red book!

"Can you make mint sauce?" I ask Helen, trying to turn the conversation farther away from Marty's food.

"Yes," she replies, then adds, "And my mother taught me too."

"Could you please teach me?" I ask.

"Certainly," Helen replies, smiling.

"Nice cake. Thank you," Jacko tells her. "Is it coffee?"

I keep the alternative conversation moving along, directing my words to Karl and Jacko, "Dad suggested that Ron and I do some work at The Village tomorrow, so that he can tell his aunt and uncle how the new buildings are coming along.

"What was the most impressive thing that you saw today?" Ron asks Karl and Jacko.

"The quality of the workmanship," Jacko answers.

"And how good Ash was with everyone!" my brother adds. "If something wasn't done the way Ash wanted, then he would show them, then watch them do it again, then compliment them and then let them continue. All the guys think that he is amazing."

"Amen to that!" Jacko says. "That is probably why everything is progressing so well and so quickly."

"Hey!" I say when it suddenly hits me. "Tomorrow's Friday. Mr Grant and William should be back. They usually come back on Friday after they've been away."

Turning to Jacko, Helen says, "Are you any good at mending chicken coops?" "I hadn't noticed the wire lifting in one corner until I saw one of the hens on the outside. Then, when I looked closely, I think that the whole pen needs renovating."

"No problem!" Jacko tells her. He grins at Karl. "My apprentice and I will see to it while the others are slaving away in The Village tomorrow."

 

Well, I think to myself. At least that should keep their hands profitably occupied for most of the day, instead of on each other's body!

 

Before we get our `site induction', Ron tells me that he has already managed to chat to both Marty and Ash about the sausages. All good!

I feel greatly relieved, and I think that I've learned a lesson about thinking before I open my mouth to make a joke of something that could have other consequences!

 

Dad, Ron and I work together, helping the guys who are putting the roofs on the cottages.
I stay on the ground and help my Dad pass the wooden shingles along the line to the guys on the roof. I watch them using their special nail guns. They start at the bottom of the roof and work their way upwards, overlapping each new row and covering joins. Dad tells me that is so that any rain doesn't get under them and inside the buildings.

Rain? How often do we get that out here?

The guys are happy to explain things to me as they go, and just before lunch, my Dad allows me to join them on the roof, with a safety harness, and put some of the shingles in place.

 

I'm pleased to stop for lunch. I haven't worked like this ever before, that I can remember, even though I've helped my Dad do lots of things. Not even this hard when Ron and I were repairing the fences.

We resume after lunch.

About 3 o'clock in the afternoon Dad asks me, "How are you feeling, son?"

"My shoulders are starting to get a bit sore," I tell him.

Dad goes to talk to Ash. Soon after, Ash comes and tells me what a wonderful asset to the team I have been during the day. "You, Ron and your dad have put us a few days ahead of schedule. I'd be happy to have you working with me any time! However, I think that it's time you three knocked off for the day." He shakes my hand and gives me an envelope.

A question crosses my mind but I don't have to ask.

Ash says, "A day's pay for a day's work. Well done."

I'm tempted to rip it open and see how much is inside, but decide that it would be more polite to do it at home, or in the car. Maybe in the privacy of my bedroom would be the right place to do it.

"Thanks, Ash," I tell him, and I smile.

"Any time that you want to do more, just let me know," he replies. "You're a great worker!"

For a moment I am excited about the possibility of being paid for doing some work, but then I remember that school starts again next Monday, and that the whole project will probably be completed before the next school holidays when I would have the time.

I ask Ash, "Do the guys do any work on the weekends? I have no idea because Karl and I are always at Whispering Gums Saturday and Sunday."

"Not usually," he replies. "But, if you're keen, I'm sure that I could organise something."

"Wow. Thanks Ash!" I tell him.

I see him and my Dad exchange a few looks, and wonder what they are thinking.

Dad ruffles my hair. "Come on. Let's go and find out what Helen has prepared for dinner. I'm guessing that it's not sausages."

I know that he's joking, and wonder whether he actually raised the subject with Marty.

When I look at Ron, he grins and touches the side of his nose, like yesterday. I relax.

 

In the car, we begin to head off when I recognise the red sedan heading our way from Cunnamulla. I'll bet that William is driving.

"Wait!" I tell my Dad. Pointing, I say, "Mr Grant and William are coming. May we please say hello?"

Dad stops the car. He, Ron and I all get out, and I wave to attract their attention.

Even before we all finish shaking hands, William blurts out, "Holy shi...p! Look at how much more has been done in just a week! They've even started putting the roofs on!"

I correct him, "WE'VE been putting the roofs on. Well, we've been helping them anyway."

William says to Mr Grant, "Hey, Tom, we should come in tomorrow morning and have a good look around!"

Mr Grant replies, "I agree. Let's arrange a time with Marty and Ash. Here comes Ash now."

"Hey, boss!" Ash says, walking over and shaking Mr Grant's hand. Then William's.

I sometimes forget that this land belongs to Mr Grant and William, so I suppose that they are `the boss' when it comes to the houses.

"Amazing progress!" Mr Grant comments. "Any chance of a tour tomorrow morning?"

"Sure!" Ash replies. Then he says, "Why don't you two come to Marty's for breakfast? We can give you a full run-down of the progress and then come up and do a walk-around."

Breakfast! I immediately picture Marty, Ash, Mr Grant and William all naked, enjoying the sausages! However, I can't make any smart-alec comments with my Dad here. That was the whole purpose of Ron and me coming with him today – to avoid that topic!

After a bit of chatting with Mr Grant, Dad asks, "See you Sunday afternoon, as usual?"

"Sure. Thanks," Mr Grant answers. "And we have some news that we'll share with you about the book thief, too."

There is another round of hand-shaking and we head off.

The book thief! I'd almost forgotten about Melinda / Robert.

 

(to be continued)

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If you like the story, and haven't said 'hello' yet, please take a couple of minutes to email me.

rob.zz@hotmail.com

I try to reply to everyone, though maybe not immediately.

 

[Author: I was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cancer but intend to keep writing. Patience please.]

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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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