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The author “Chance” is me, “Larkin” This is an effort to re-compose my old roster into a new roster comprised old and new works, re-written and done with more careful editing. (omitting junk) I hope you will understand.
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This is a work of fiction. All disclaimers associated with homosexuality will apply without exception. There is reference to some drug use that is in character with the period but it is only incidental and not to proselytize. Persons portrayed in this story are fictitious or at best, coincidental.
Waiting for the Titanic
1919 to 1923
I owe my life to Billy for helping me survive Peter's death in the Great War and recover from my opium addiction. Just as the opium filled my head with pleasant and exotic reveries, in withdrawal, they became nightmarish visions of hell. It placed me in the bomb cratered trenches of Northern France where I saw Peter choking in clouds of green chlorine gas. I experienced this horrible vision over and over again. I loved Peter so much and I had never really told him enough in life and now he's gone forever. It was Billy that stayed with me through the fever and sweats. The depression that followed seemed to go on for months.
My recovery was helped along when Billy introduced the filthy, hungry and desperate gutter waif into our home. If caught, he was sure to be taken off to an orphanage which could be a death sentence. Billy understood this because it mirrored his own childhood when, after his father's capture, he was being hunted by the Sisters of Charity so that he could be placed in the Catholic orphanage.
In the act of caring for this creature, we saved each others lives. After being bathed, fed and reassured he quickly turned in to the world's most beautiful boy. Large expressive brown eyes, a warm dark complexion and a little body smelling of sweet almonds. His matted hair had to be cut off, but when it grew back, it did in thick, beautiful black ringlets. He soon became my monkey boy who had boundless energy all day long. At night he would crawl under the covers of my bed so that I could play with him and then he would cuddle up with me to sleep.
We didn't know where he came from or how old he was but when he finally began to speak I heard what I thought was a Sicilian dialect. From this I determined that he was Italian and not a dark Jew from Russia. Later on I imagined that he came from the Italian colony of Tripoli or Cyrenaica. Whatever it was he quickly began to speak English. Billy suggested the name Antonio and I approved because I could shortened it to the familiar, Tony. He was my crazy brown monkey boy that could never sit still for more than a moment and was full of joy and laughter.
The little demon would discard his clothing at the slightest provocation. The maid did her best to keep him dressed but he alluded her. I responded as the inattentive and spoiling father but what she did not know was that I was the one behind Tony's determination to be naked. Tony would come into my room all tidy and neat and then slowly discard each article of clothing. Once naked and erect, he would climb into my arms. He did this because he knew it pleased me.
School was something else entirely. I think he knew that he had found safe harbor with me and going out into the world had the potential of threatening his refuge. In spite of Tony's protestations, I entered him in St. Paul's Episcopal School where I had gone and where I had put Billy. There were problems from the start. It centered around that fact that he might be a Jew.
I said, “Well, he is uncircumcised if that means anything.”
And so what if he was a Jew? I suggested that he might just as easily been a Catholic.
I defended my position by saying that he was orphaned too young to receive any religious instruction and that religion is not inherited from birth.
Father Carmichael was not so open-minded. “With all due respects Edmund, I think that you are mixed up about why and where we are born. God makes all these decisions.”
I countered by saying the perhaps “God positioned me to put Antonio into St. Paul's?”
Father Carmichael resisted that idea but accepted Tony despite his reservations.
The troubles did not end there. Tony did not want to go to school. He pleaded with me to stay home.
“Edmund, please let me stay home with you. The fathers hit me to make me behave.”
He looked innocently in to my eyes and said, “I don't want to behave. You don't make me behave? I don't like behaving.”
His English was improving in leaps and bounds but I suppose his behavior problems are all my fault.
This was followed by a bold seduction where he would prompt my passion by searching my pants with his small hands.
I responded, “Tony, you must go to school. It is important for you to learn to read and write. Now I know that you are not stupid so you must do this for me.”
In time there would be more problems.
The Carpenter's Son
At the end of 1919, the stupid idea of prohibition began to become a reality. I was prompted to have the basement re-constructed into a large wine cellar going the length of the building. I was drinking more to resist the temptation of opium. When prohibition threatened I thought I had better prepare. I had to contact suppliers before it was too late. Not being schooled in the world of commerce, I engaged a subcontractor to do the purchasing for me. Beyond lining his own pockets, he secured 400 bottles of wine and further purchases of Canadian whiskey, brandy and even wholesale supplies of medicinal ethyl alcohol. I suppose you could say I exercised forethought.
I hired a carpenter and his young son to do much of the work. After starting work, it became apparent that the carpenter was impatient and short tempered. He probably could not afford to hire or even keep an assistant so he compelled his son into a state of servitude. His son seemed just the opposite. In contrast to his father, the boy gave me the impression that he was gentle and pliable. He wore dusty overalls and was just at the beginning of his growth spurt. Gawky and awkward, he impressed me as potentially very handsome once fully grown. I noticed from the start that every time I came down to inspect, the boy's eyes fell upon me in a way that was unmistakable. I have a soft spot for young tradesmen.
After promising the man additional payment I asked to have his boy help me upstairs with just a few chores that I could not manage on my own. The boy followed me upstairs to the small studio where Robbie had slept and then after him, Billy. The boy had already been schooled because he sat expectantly at the edge of the bed waiting for me to approach him. Without any prompting he opened my pants and using his tongue he prompted a stunning erection even before taking it into his mouth. I did not feel inclined to fuck him during this first encounter but when we both were aroused beyond reason, I took the opportunity of getting my tongue up his bottom causing me to cum into his mouth. This act was repeated several times before the job was completed.
Tony had been in school barely 6 months when he was sent home with a note requesting me to visit with Father Carmichael.
“Edmund, it grieves me to have to have this meeting but I am afraid that Antonio is not suitable for St Paul's.”
I had the look of amazement on my face. I already knew of Tony's potential for being a little demon. I imagined that he was not paying attention or that he was causing a disruption. Perhaps he was throwing things in class, fighting or worse, playing with fire?
Father Carmichael prefaced his comments by saying, “Your family and St. Paul's have had a long relationship and I want so much for it to stay that way.”
He was alluding to my annual contributions.
“I am afraid that I must ask you to take Antonio out of St Paul's. I wish I could decide differently. If you would like, there is no need for further discussion.”
“With all respect Father Carmichael, could you be more specific about why,.. instead of leaving me in the dark?”
He seemed reluctant. “Please believe me when I say that this conversation will go no further than this room.”
From the outset, I knew this to be a bold lie because the Episcopal fathers and brothers are a bunch of wanking and buggering gossips.
“I know that Antonio is not your son. Can you tell me a little more about his origins?”
I told him that I thought that he was from Italy but I suspected that he might have come from Italian North Africa.
The Father looked down at the clutter of papers on his desk and then back at me. “Oh, North Africa, that might explain it.”
I said, “Well, what's he done?”
Father Carmichael was solemn and spoke softly. “He committed terrible sins witnessed by the Brothers and who knows how many students. This could cause irreparable damage to their purity ruining their chances to be in God's favor.”
The Father was evasive and spoke using stupid, religious euphemisms.
“Father Carmichael, I will oblige you and I will take Antonio out of St Paul's but I must ask you to put aside your religious frock for just one moment and tell me exactly what he has done?”
He moved closer to me in a soft and whispering voice said, “He was caught masturbating in class more than once. He did not even do it in a concealed manner but with his penis out of his pants in full view of the other boys who were left stunned. There were other offenses. I know all this from the Father who handles the confessional. During recess, many boys would disappear only to be found in an unguarded area, all in the act of mutual masturbation.”
I sat acting stunned but inwardly, I was incredibly proud of Tony.
“Edmund, Please believe me. I want to accommodate you but the disruption caused by Antonio is insurmountable.”
In a rare and genuine moment and as if he was aware of my own inclinations, he said, “Suppose any of the parents found out. This thing can spread like a disease. As much as I would like to pretend that it is not going on, I cant have it, for the sake of the school.”
There was a pause and then he said almost in a whisper, “If only Antonio could have been a little more discrete....”
We reached an accommodation where Antonio could stay home where I would devote my time towards his education. Father Carmichael was pleased with the agreement and in an act of compromise offered to send one of the Brothers around once or twice a month to set Antonio's course of study provide books and to test his progress.
When I got home to discuss the situation with Tony I could see that his loyalties were already beginning to be torn. His failure at St Paul's was in his own eyes a success because he was meeting so many interested boys. Maybe this was for the best because I did not want to lose him and I had no intention of placing him in the public school.
I required from him a complete and total confession. He told me that he was in demand by many boys for sucking cock especially the older boys. I asked him to describe each encounter. He could see that my parental concern was a ruse to disguise my approval. I suggested that he might invite one or two over and try to seduce them in my company. The big surprise was Father John. The stern disciplinarian of the school who use of fear of punishment to get boys alone in his office. Once there, if they were his type, the boys considered it a reprieve to get their cock sucked instead of being canned. Tony had several visits with him. I could see where many of the brothers could want Tony enough to provoke a revolution.
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