Writing in the Sand
a holiday romance
by Jack Kendle
FAST FORWARD - MEETINGS
Pip and Ricky arrive in Bognor - and how they nearly didn't meet at all!
It is now late July, just before the fateful week. Pip continues to have problems controlling his unruly tackle. Roddy McGregor hasn't made an overt move, but does manage to be next to Pip in the showers after their soccer games. He is fascinated by Pip's cock, wondering if he will ever get the chance to touch it. He has fantasies about Pip's dick slowly entering him, impaling him. Like Pip, he has difficulty in controlling his own cock - five inches when erect. As he showers beside the shorter boy, he turns away and faces the wall, using all the willpower at his disposal to calm his cock down. He doesn't have an aunty Aunty Pru which is a shame. Pip seems to be well disposed towards the school jock and things have reached the stage where the two young lads now chat to each other in the playground and there are vague plans to meet up sometime in the holidays, after Pip gets back from Bognor.
Ricky and Tim are still best friends - and the two boys have spent a lot of time together. Tim has suddenly become keen on wrestling and Ricky often ends in a headlock, held to the floor by his friend. It is at these times that Ricky has the most trouble with his dick and hopes that Tim doesn't see the bulge behind his grey school trousers. For Ricky, this is agony and on those days, once he is alone in bed, he relives that sweet torture of being held close by the object of his desire. He is just beginning to wonder if perhaps Tim ... for once there might be a glimmer of hope in Ricky's life.
Then it's the summer holidays and Tim has gone to relatives in Scotland for the WHOLE SUMMER!!! Ricky is bereft. Strangely, Tim also seems a little muted the last time the boys meet up before the holidays.
So - two very randy queer boys, each on a train, - heading for the same destination. Will the gods smile upon them? Will they find, if not eternal happiness, then at least relief? Will the Pandora's Box of s.e.x. be opened for the two likely lads?
I think you, dear Reader, already know the answer to that!
It is famously alleged that the last words of King George V were "Bugger Bognor", in response to a suggestion that he might recover from his illness and visit Bognor Regis. This has not gone down well with the good residents of the south coast resort. They prefer the 'official' reportage of the King's death, where he was alleged to ask about how the "Empire" was doing. Rather more portentous than "Bugger Bognor"!
Whatever the King did or did not say on his deathbed, "The Dunes", for once, had not lied about its proximity to the sea. Barring one road, it was quite literally on the seafront; the Victorian villa's double-fronted façade gazing out over the pebbles and slightly dark, closely packed sand and on out over the English Channel. About a quarter of a mile to the west of them, the pier stretched into the sea.
The Jones' were the first of the two families to arrive. By virtue of having booked early in the year, they had been given "The Dunes'" best rooms. Mr and Mrs Jones' room was at the front of the house, the large bay windows on the second floor giving a majestic view. There was a little balcony that ran along the front of the house, on which, if the weather was fine, they could sit and watch the world go by. Ricky and Elizabeth's rooms were the other large room at the front of the house, which had been divided in two by a fairly flimsy partition. They too had access to the narrow balcony, whose front was covered by a sturdy creeper growing up the front of the house. Mrs Jones recognised it as wisteria.
The two children realised that their rooms were not very soundproof, almost being able to hold a conversation through the dividing wall. Mr and Mrs Jones, being British and used to 'coping' and not making a fuss, found the B&B 'charming' and the children, shrugging their shoulders, accepted their lot. Ricky quickly saw the advantage in having his own room, in that he wouldn't have to sneak off to the communal bathroom on the half-landing whenever he needed to 'take himself in hand', which was quite often. He looked through his window out on to the beach. That was a plus , he thought, as his eyes caught sight of a boy in swimming trunks bending over something he had found in the sand. "I might enjoy myself here," thought the teen to himself, as he made a slight adjustment to his clothing.
Jim, Sue and Pip arrived later that afternoon, whilst the Jones family was exploring the town's amenities.
"Oh my, my," said the elderly lady at the desk in reception, nervously fidgeting with her spectacles which she wore on a chain around her neck. This was Agatha Carmody, ('Mrs') - the landlady and owner of "The Dunes".
"Oh dear oh dear," she reiterated as she peered down at the well-worn exercise book which served as the B&B's booking register.
"Piper, yes I have a reservation for Piper, but only one double room. There's no mention here of a single room in addition... are you sure...?" she looked inquisitively up at the new arrivals, her tired blue eyes looking worried.
Usually, Agatha Carmody was made of sterner stuff and something like this would not have flustered her, but it had been a difficult day; the butcher had let her down, some sheets had been lost by the laundry and her nephew, her sister Violet's boy, had forgotten to fix the skylight in one of the attic rooms. Plus, despite constant reminders, the garden had run wild. He could be a trial, that boy sometimes. In actual fact, David, for that was his name, was no boy, he was a man in his thirties, but to Agatha he was always 'that dratted boy'. David was fortunate to be employed by Agatha Carmody; he was titled gardener and general handyman at "The Dunes" but was, to say the least, a little unreliable.
David, a real giant of a man, massively broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, was what we would call these days 'special' or 'educationally challenged' but in those harsher times, when a spade was called a spade, he was referred to as 'remedial.' Boys of Ricky and Pip's age would have called him 'Mongo' or 'Loony' - but, as we have gathered, Ricky and Pip were nice boys, well brought up and they would never have dreamed of calling poor unfortunate David any cruel names, well not to his face, that is. David wasn't a gibbering idiot or anything like that, he was just a little slow, not quite up to speed.
Agatha had taken him and his mother in when her younger sister Violet's husband had died. Poor Violet had had a hard time of it. She and her husband had almost given up on the idea of having children; they had tried for many years without success, so it was quite unexpected when at last Violet became pregnant, quite late in life, with their only child, a boy. He had been a bright boy, full of laughter and high-spirited mischief, but at the age of ten, he had met with an accident and since then, he had been subject to mood swings and bouts of depression. He had suffered a very serious blow to the side of the head, which almost stove his skull in and ever since, he had borne a large indentation on the side of his head. Doctors at the time were amazed at his recovery and that he wasn't a total vegetable as a consequence. No one ever found out the real story behind David's injury, only that the boy had been found lying in the bombed-out ruins of a house during the war. It was assumed he had been caught unawares by a stray bomb from a German plane, but no one could explain what he was doing in that part of town. David always maintained he had no recollection whatsoever of the incident. Shortly after that, his father had died from cancer and Violet was left on her own to bring up the boy. It was then that Agatha, not having any real choice in the matter anyway, offered to take in her sister and nephew in. David, despite his weak intellect was clever with his hands, which is one of the reasons for Agatha taking him on. He would act as odd-job man in return for room and board.
Her own husband gone, Agatha had taken over the running of "The Dunes" and Violet and David her only 'staff'. David lived in the B&B's garage, which had been converted into quite a cosy little place for him and his collie, which was called, predictably and unimaginatively, Lassie.
"Yes, we are sure," replied Jim Piper, trying not to let this information worry him too much - at least not yet, but a vein in his temple began to pulse, a fact Sue noted with a touch of anxiety.
"We booked in April," she quickly interjected. "One double, one single, preferably with a sea-view. You sent a letter of confirmation..." she waved a piece of paper under the increasingly flustered elderly lady's nose.
"Er, ah... yes. Er..." Mrs Carmody flipped some pages to and fro in her book, chewing the end of her pencil as she did so. Finally, she looked up, a faint look of hope in her eyes. "Erm..... well, I think I can sort something out. I have a very nice double room for you both and I can let the boy, er... young man... have one of the attic rooms right at the top of the house, under the roof... There is a skylight," she added hurriedly, "the rooms used to be used by the servants, when... erm... that is if the young man doesn't mind...?"
She looked at Pip. "I don't mind at all, Dad," said Pip, already sensing the benefits of being in a room tucked away quite a way from his parents. He had no clear ideas in mind, but he didn't see the point in complaining. It was only a week, after all.
"Well..." Jim was doubtful.
"I shall give you a discount," Mrs Carmody quickly went on, sensing she had solved the problem.
"The room is quite clean and adequate, just a little...er...small," she said.
"Dad, I don't mind," said Pip again. He just wanted to get his stuff into his room and perhaps explore a bit on the beach, he had seen quite a few other boys on the sand and he thought he would like to get to know them a bit better.
Jim Piper didn't want to make a fuss, but had things not gone well, he would have stormed out and cancelled, trusting to Fate to find another place to accommodate them. Jim Piper was known to make spur-of-the-minute decisions sometimes, without thinking things properly through. His wife hoped this wasn't going to be the case today, as she was sure they would not find anywhere else, with no notice, at the height of the season. She had a mental image of them having to trundle all the way back home, their holiday ruined. However, relying on past experience, she very wisely said nothing.
Jim thought that if Pip was happy and they got a good discount, then he would accept the solution.
"Alright," he said.
Just two little syllables! But they were to have far-reaching consequences for Pip and Ricky.
So, to everyone's relief, the matter was settled. Mrs Carmody showed them around. The attic room was tiny, but it was clean and the skylight meant it was bright.
"The skylight's slightly broken," said Agatha, "it's a bit loose, but just needs a new hinge. I'll send the boy up to fix it straight away. It'll be as right as rain, I guarantee."
The double room was quite adequate. Mr and Mrs Piper nodded and the matter was finally settled. Mrs Carmody relaxed back into her formal, redoubtable self.
"Breakfast is served from seven until nine and dinner is at six pm promptly," she said as she handed the Pipers their keys. "We prefer everyone to be in the house by ten pm and of course, no noise after 10.30. This is a respectable establishment." She must have made this speech a thousand times or more. The Jones' had been given the exact same spiel , word for word, when they were being shown around. Mr and Mrs Piper glanced at each other and raised their eyebrows as if to say what an old-fashioned place! However, it was cheap and clean and the location was superb, so they accepted Mrs Carmody's terms. Bear in mind that this is the mid 60's - that's what places like this were like then. They have more or less died out now, I believe.
Pip lost no time in unpacking, which, for him meant just chucking his clothes hurriedly into the antiquated chest of drawers in the small attic room. By now it was late afternoon and there were clouds about, so Pip decided against swimming trunks - instead he chose a pair of dark blue shorts, held up with his favourite snake belt, a blue tee-shirt and plastic sandals. He went downstairs to his parents' room, which was on the floor below, immediately below where he was.
"Mum, Dad, can I go on the beach? I won't go far. Promise."
"Yes, Pip, but stay in sight of the hotel. Daddy and I are going to have a little nap and then we'll do a bit of exploring. Don't go far!" his mother warned him.
But by then Pip was already racing down the stairs and out through the front door of "The Dunes".
Crossing the road, he was immediately on the beach; pebbles at first, then sand, sloping down to the sea. There were fewer children playing on the beach than when he arrived, but he caught sight of a few boys down by the water's edge, with nets. Trying to look as casual as possible, he sauntered over to close where they were. Some were his age and there were a few younger ones, 'nippers' his Dad called them. There were some deckchairs dotted here and there, filled with various parents, grandparents and other mostly old people, Pip noticed. Stooping down, Pip collected a few flat stones and trying not to be too self-conscious, he ambled in the direction of the boys. He took in their lithe forms; they were all in swimming trunks and Pip took a bit of time studying as covertly as he could the semi-naked boys. As usual, he had on his jockstrap and tight briefs to contain his cock and his shorts were baggy, so he was pretty sure his state of arousal would be invisible to casual observers. There were a couple of boys who took his fancy, they looked like brothers, might even be twins, he thought. The boys were teasing one another and racing around as young boys do.
Kicking off his sandals, Pip positioned himself down close to the water's edge and began skipping the flat stones on the water. Crouching down, cocking his wrist, he sent stone after stone skipping and dancing over the surface of the calm sea. His best effort was eight skips. Pip was an expert at "Ducks and Drakes" as the game was called.
As he had hoped and expected, his efforts drew the crowd of curious boys to watch as he flicked the little stones expertly, one after the other, hopping and jumping over the surface of the sea. Pip loved being the centre of attention and as the admiring boys looked on, he began to show off, making the stones hop, skip and jump further and further, out over the water. He timed his throws with the incoming waves, which were fairly tame and got the stones to hop spectacularly. The other boys began to look for flat stones and there began an impromptu competition, with salvoes of stones skipping out from the beach. Gradually, the younger boys lost interest and drifted off to other pursuits so that after about twenty minutes it was Pip and the two brothers left to battle it out for the unspoken title of "Ducks and Drakes Grand Master."
As they used up all the suitable stones in the immediate vicinity, the boys, in their search, drifted further down the beach. As they bent hunting for stones, Pip and the two boys go to know each other. As he had thought, the boys were brothers, although not twins, but a year apart in age. The elder, aged thirteen, was called Tommy and his younger brother was Patrick. They hailed from Reading. "Our Dad's a copper," said Tommy, "what's your'n do?"
"Plumber," replied Pip, shortly, "got his own business." Truth to tell, Pip was a little embarrassed about his father's job - most of his schoolmates had fathers who worked in offices - which is why he always added that his father was self-employed - it made it sound just a bit better, he thought. Pip needn't really have worried at all, actually. Neither Tommy nor his brother had any thoughts about what parents did; it didn't matter to them at all. They accepted Pip's statement with just a short non-committal grunt as they peered along the shore looking for flat stones to skip. In fact, none of Pip's friends looked down on people who were 'blue-collar' - the fact that they were employed was enough for them. It was only the so-called 'upper-middle classes' who made distinctions in friends' parents' jobs; whether you were a businessman, or a diplomat or a celebrity - then it mattered. But for Pip's class, stigmas just didn't exist, at least back then.
Pip discreetly eyed the two boys' figures as they bent looking for stones. Alas for him, the age of the Speedo hadn't arrived; swimming trunks back then were usually shapeless, slightly baggy affairs made out of thick material, almost towelling. No figure-hugging, sleek, multi-coloured provocative skimpy trunks back then! Tommy and Patrick were dressed in identical costumes, dark blue, which hung loosely on their slim hips. There was not much indication as to what lay beneath, which Pip found disappointing. The three boys continued their slow peregrination along the beach until, by tacit agreement, they sat on a breakwater, not having found enough suitable flat stones to continue the game. It was by now late afternoon and the sun had disappeared behind some clouds.
"Where are you staying?" asked Pip as the three boys sat on the wooden groyne, kicking their heels.
"Royal Norfolk" replied Tommy, referring to Bognor's largest and grandest hotel just down the road from "The Dunes."
"It's a dump! Full of pensioners! No tasty birds at all!"
Pip glanced keenly at his newfound acquaintance. Was Tommy trying to impress him with his grown-up talk of pretty girls, or had he really started dating for real? The answer to his question came via a snort from Patrick.
"Don't listen to him! He just wishes he had a girlfriend! I betcha he wouldn't even know what to... OUCH!" He was cut off by a punch on the arm from Tommy.
"Shut yer face, Squirt!" Tommy was blushing slightly. Pip guessed, correctly as it turned out, that Tommy was just trying to impress his new friend. A mistake, if you have a younger brother within earshot, believe me!
"You got a girlfriend, then Pip?" asked Tommy, shifting the attention away from himself and his obviously non-existent girlfriends.
"Nope," answered Pip, without volunteering anything further.
"You ever kissed a girl?"
Pip shrugged his shoulders. "Girls are a waste of time," he said, now imitating Tommy's bravado from earlier, implying perhaps, that he, too, had some 'experience.' Being what his friends would call 'pouf' in a derogatory manner, before probably beating him up, he had to have some sort of front so as to be able to co-exist with his friends at school. If a boy got the 'pansy' label, then that was the end for him. His schooldays would be a living hell. Pip kept his feelings to himself. He had to. It was the only way to survive.
"Squirt doesn't have a girlfriend," piped up Tommy, in a singsong voice, the prelude to more taunts, Pip felt. "Squirt doesn't like the girls 'cos Squirt's a girlie himself!" Tommy's cruel teasing caused his younger brother to blush furiously and shout out, "Not fair! Not fair!" He didn't say 'not true', Pip noticed.
"Squirt and his bumchum Paulie toss each other off. I've seen 'em..."
"Dirty liar!" Patrick aimed a punch at his brother who managed to dodge it quite easily.
"Alright, alright. Feignites. " Tommy, smiling at the successful tormenting of his brother seemed to lose interest in the subject immediately. So too, did Squirt, Philip noticed.
"So, when did you get here?" he asked Pip.
"Just this afternoon," replied Pip. "How long have you been here? What's there to do round here?"
"We've been here a fortnight, going back tomorrow," said Tommy. "Bognor stinks! The weather's been foul, rained most of the time! The beach isn't anything special, the pier's okay, but it costs too much in the arcade. The mini-golf is pathetic and the place is full of old fogeys in wheelchairs. Hardly anything to do! I'll be glad to get home, I can tell you!"
"Doesn't sound too good," said Pip, feeling thankful that he would only have a week here, if it were as bad as Tommy said it was.
"Oh, it's not that bad," piped up Squirt, " I made some friends. We had a good time, while you were sulking," he teased his elder brother. "Tommy hoped he would find a girl and do 'stuff' with them, but whenever you got anywhere close to a girl you lost your nerve, didn't you, Tommy? And that one girl, what was her name, Lucinda? She just laughed right in your face! Called you a shrimp! Haha! Never seen anyone go so red!"
"Oy, shut up!" shouted Tommy, blushing furiously, punching his brother on the arm.
"Well, it looks like a little pink prawn dunnit, Tommy eh?""I said belt UP!"
Well, no boy likes having his 'pride and joy' ridiculed, does he?
Actually, Tommy was quite adequately provided for 'down there' - the girl Lucinda just knew how to injure a boy's pride and keep him from pestering her. It always worked. Tommy, of course avoided her and her friends for the duration and whenever the hateful gaggle saw him, they pointed at him and made a great show of laughing. That's why Tommy's holiday had been a miserable affair and why he was looking forward to getting back home to his train set, and 'Scalextric' and his good friend Roger. They would go back to making their model planes and riding their bikes together.
"I had a great time," continued Squirt. "Made some good friends and did all sorts of great things! Hope we come again next year."
The eternal optimist, Squirt would have his wish granted and next year, Tommy would find out more about the opposite sex and how impossible they could be. But it wouldn't stop him trying. Squirt would have his own epiphany and discover the joys of intimate relations with another boy. Tommy had been mostly right about him and Paul, they were becoming close friends although they hadn't yet done anything physical, but that was not far off.
But that's all in the future and not part of our tale.
"Pip! PIP!" The boys were interrupted by Sue's shrill voice. "Come along Pip! We're going to explore! Come ON!"
"Gotta go. See ya!"
"Bye, mate. Don't die of boredom!"
The brief encounter over, Pip trotted across the beach to his parents.
We leave Pip, as he makes his way up the beach, back to his parents. A fair-haired boy of about his own age passes him. The two boys glance at each other as they pass. Of course, the other boy is Ricky, released from his boring trip around the town and on his way to see what the beach is like. A few paces further on, each boy half turns to get a better look at the other. Their eyes meet. However, Pip, much as he would like, cannot turn round and get to know the new boy and Ricky sees the other boy's parents obviously waiting for him. Each boy thinks to himself that they would very much like to get to know the other kid and are a little annoyed that they are not able to do so.
So, Pip now has to endure a sightseeing trip, while Ricky slopes about the beach, seeing what Bognor has to offer. He wanders aimlessly, throwing stones into the sea. Elizabeth, thank goodness, has a slight stomach ache, so has gone back to "The Dunes" to lie down before dinner. Ricky is under strict instructions not to be late.
A large collie dog bounds past Ricky, chasing a stick. The shaggy beast reaches it and begins to sniff and worry it.
"Hey, boy!" Ricky approaches the panting animal as it paws at the stick. "Hey boy, what's your name then?" Ricky has caught up with the animal and reaches out to pat the dog.
"He's a she and she's called Lassie!"
Ricky turns to see the dog's owner shamble over. A tall, massively built man, almost a giant, Ricky thinks, dressed in clean, but shabby clothes; a check shirt, over which he wears a dark blue fisherman's jersey, brown corduroy trousers and a long dirty raincoat. On his head a knitted woollen hat under which his black hair, worn long, hangs down over his collar. On a leather strap round his neck hangs a bulky camera, which Ricky recognises as a Polaroid, which takes instantly developed photographs. The camera looks very new. The man has the most piercing blue eyes Pip has ever seen and he has a large indentation in his temple, which almost deforms the shape of his head. He has a shuffling gait and his left arm hangs limply by his side. His hands, Ricky notices, are enormous.
"She's beautiful!" says Ricky, who would dearly love to have a dog, but they can't, because of Elizabeth's allergies.
"Beautifullest dog in Bognor!" says the owner, proudly and ungrammatically, his speech ever so slightly slurred, giving those who did not know him the impression that he was a little drunk.
"Go on, son, you can stroke her, if you want. She won't bite you!"
Ricky crouches on his haunches and begins to pet the dog's sleek, silky coat.
"What's your name? Mine's David." The older man held out his giant's hand and Ricky, being a good-mannered boy, took it and introduced himself. The man's hand was slightly sweaty, and Ricky's small hand was was entirely enveloped in the man's ham-fist. His grip was surprisingly flabby, Ricky thought; it reminded him of a warm damp washcloth.
"OK if I take your picture, Richard?"
At six pm sharp, the guests, perhaps a little in awe of the redoubtable Mrs Carmody, assembled in the dining room on the first floor of "The Dunes". The smell of stew was almost overpowering, neither of the large windows being open. There were two tables set for four and three smaller ones for two. There were some prints of what was presumably Bognor in bygone days on the walls, and on little shelves in the corners were little fancy ornaments, teapots and little vases with plastic flowers in them. The floor was covered in a fairly threadbare carpet and hardly any of the chairs matched. There were plastic tablecloths with faded garish patterns on the plain deal tables and the cheap cutlery didn't look quite as clean as one might have wished.
Besides the Joneses and the Pipers, the other guests comprised two elderly couples and one older man. Their average age seemed about seventy. Pip recalled Tommy's words - this seemed to be a resort for geriatrics. He glanced over at the other family, husband and wife and girl. The girl gave him a quick glance and looked away, flushing slightly. He was used to that - he knew he was cute. Pity for her that he didn't find her cute! Had he been straight, he would have, but he wasn't, so hard cheese for her!
After a round of 'good evenings' between all the assembled guests, everyone sat down. The Jones family chose one of the larger tables while he and his parents sat the other. Pip gathered by the conversation, that one of the other family's children was missing, the girl's brother.
"He said he'd be down in a tick," said the girl, somewhat self-consciously, still stealing the odd furtive glance at Pip. This piece of information piqued Pip's interest. He wondered how old the girl's brother was and whether he was good-looking. The girl was pretty, in her way, so hopefully the brother was a looker too! Might relieve the boredom! He found himself eagerly anticipating the boy's arrival.
Violet and Mrs Carmody came into the dining room, wheeling a trolley on which stood a large aluminium pot. Violet wheeled the trolley around the dining room, whilst her sister served the guests at their tables, each plate receiving exactly one and a half ladles of stew and each guest getting exactly three dumplings each. Mrs Carmody was nothing if not scrupulously fair! Each table was also given a basket of bread, which was slightly dry and beginning to curl at the edges.
"Not exactly the Ritz!" murmured Alec Jones as the two sisters left the room again, with not a word having been spoken throughout the whole process.
"Where is Ricky?" asked Dora Jones, impatiently, "he said he wouldn't be late! Elizabeth would you...?" but, luckily for Elizabeth, who would have had to go upstairs to find her brother, letting her stew get cold, the object of the conversation entered the room.
Pip looked up and recognised Ricky as the boy he had passed on the beach. His eyes quickly scanned the other's body, taking in the slim figure, blond hair, and blue eyes. His groin twitched slightly as Ricky pulled a chair and sat at the next table, alas with his back to Pip.
For his part, Ricky had seen Pip at his table when he came in to the room. His first thought was that he was glad there was another boy here in the B&B that he could perhaps befriend, thereby freeing him from hanging about with Elizabeth. He too scanned what he could see of Pip and liked what he saw. His second thought, unbidden, was his bed in the room upstairs, with two heads on the pillow - his and Pip's.
Ricky wasn't a psychic by any means, just randy. And we know that his fleeting image will become reality before the week is out, don't we?
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