Love in the Dunes
by Rafael Henry
'It's pretty hot up here Jem……I fancy a cool off in the sea…..how about you?'
'What about all your stuff? Someone might take it……and the painting……it's nice…..'
'Well….do you? The stuff's fine up here…..no one's going to mess about with it…………I often leave it for ages while I go for a walk or something.'
'Ok then….but I have to go in in my underpants. Do you mind?'
'So have I as it happens……and no I don't mind, but yours are white…..they go very transparent…..… you won't see anything through mine. Did you realize everyone can see you through them?'
'So? I don't care……no one will look anyway……….and anyway we can just run back over the beach a bit away from the people can't we?'
Just in our underpants we made it to the water passing by a couple of family groups and half a dozen kids busy digging trenches and holes with their bottoms up in the air. I love the activity down on the beach where there is unlimited opportunity for youngsters like us to be creative with the fabulous resources that our coast can offer. It's all bloody marvellous in my book.
The sun felt glorious on my skin……….and Jem looked a picture, smiling and laughing as we splashed our way through the shallows into the deeper water, eventually almost out of his depth, but not mine of course. As he set off to 'escape' me using a good elegant crawl stroke, he was obviously losing his pants which were hardly tight fitting when dry, but now only too willing to part company with the boy's slim hips.
'Here…I'll take them. I'll put them inside mine until we want to go back ok.'
Trusting boy! I'm not at all sure I'd trust any of my friends with that responsibility. I put them down the front of mine for safe keeping. When we had had enough after fifteen minutes I would guess, he had them back. In shallow water now, he rolled the waistband down a couple of times which seemed to make them reasonably secure, and rather than running, we ambled back up the long expanse of shallow water and then onto the dryer sand to where the dunes rose up from the very slight incline of the back of the beach. Jem's pink flesh was very visible through the now transparent material…..both back and front. He looked lovely….his pale golden skin reflecting the bright light in little patches and drops of water……his hair matted and flattened, apart from the bits that stuck straight out in golden spikes. I couldn't wait for more of him. We stopped just a yard or so into the threshold of the dunes. Jem looked at me, smiling broadly….
'Is it obvious then? Can you see it?'
'Err, yes it is rather……but very nice.'
'It's for you…..if you want it. Do you?'
'Yes I do actually.'
When he said that, I felt it immediately. I didn't care who was looking………in fact it was quite fun. It didn't stick up like it would normally do because of the wet material I think….it just poked forwards, and sort of bent weirdly….pointing down now. I'm talking about my willy if you hadn't worked that out. I want him to cuddle me again. He's lovely, and I feel weirdly safe when his hands touch me. Isn't that odd? Mum would like him……I want him to come home…..I want more than anything to show him to Mum. She won't know we've done stuff because………because she just won't…….I hope! I don't lie to her…she taught me that. I don't want to lie to her anyway. I'm really proud of my new friend even though I have only known him for a couple of hours. I've never been into girly stuff like kissing, but when he put his on mine……..oh wow, that was different. The feeling went straight down there if you know what I mean. I always look for boys to play with when the weather's nice and they'll be loads of them up here playing in the dunes. It's a great place to play….jumping and sliding down the sand hills, and just lying in the warmth. It's a lovely feeling…….all warm round you. Boys just find each other, especially if they're on their own and want someone to play with.
Then when I've 'attracted' one……and I'm pretty good at that…..it's usually quite easy to get a bit more physical with them, like accidentally bumping into them or pretending to fall and grab them by the shoulder or something like that, and then if they respond in a certain way, you'll know. That's how it works. Then you can go off exploring the dunes, and find a place to sit and talk or something, and then pick a bit of that long spiky grass and……well you can imagine can't you? If he wants to play, he'll find a way to tell you, and then it's a 'if you show me yours' sort of thing, and then the rest just happens. Doing it with each other is nothing really……no big deal…just a bit of fun that boys have all the time…if they're lucky. We each have a feeling, just with hands usually, and then a couple of minutes later we go off and play again. Perfect! I reckon that will happen ten times this summer at least. Sometimes there's several of us, and girls too. They always seem very interested in boys' things.
I never do it in bed in the morning on nice weather days just in case, because I want to save it for later. I know I'm a randy beast…..the older boys at school are always telling me that. Sometimes they want 'helping out' when they feel really horny and haven't got anyone to do it with. I don't mind…..I keep them in suspense as long as I can and try to delay it for as long as possible. Then they get more that way, at least that what one boy told me. I love it when they come. There's one boy……bloody hell, you've got to watch it with him. It's goes all over the place…..everywhere. Raf was like that today. There's one there who's a bit special…….Otta. He's like me. Other boys like us, especially the older ones because we look nice and cute in our short trousers. We get loads of attention. I like that. Otta's too young to get anything, but he's so sweet…….he really is. His mother and mine got friendly one Sports Day.
I think he's coming down to stay next week because his mum's coming to see mine and stay a few days so he comes too. That'll be fun because Otta loves the beach and stuff. Maybe Raf will be down again if I ask him nicely.
When we got back up to our 'nest' in the dunes after our swim I asked him if we could have another cum. He said no, but he did cuddle me. Nothing had been touched. His painting was still where he had left it on the easel thing, and all the other kit was still exactly where it was.
We took off our wet pants and laid them over a patch of thick marram grass to dry. They looked funny perched up like that next to each other, his dark blue and my little white ones. We lay down together to get warm again partially wrapped up in our thick sheet leaving us almost invisible to any stray passers-by. When he took me into his arms and held me quite tightly I felt really weird, like I wanted to cry or something? I don't know why I did, but I just did. He just held me to him for ages while I went on crying.
'What on earth is the matter Jem?'
'Nothing. I just feel a bit sad that's all. I'm ok.'
He held me tighter to him after I'd said that. I think he was a bit worried about me. He's so sweet with me.
He was upset too, because I was I suppose. I remember feeling the wet as it ran down my shoulder. I never wanted him to stop holding me….not ever. I was looking at his willy. It had gone stiff. Mine had too. I put my hand on his stiff penis. I kept squeezing it really hard, and every now and then I felt the end of it. It was wet with that slippery stuff he got before. He gave me a nice kiss….lightly on my lips and I did the same on him. I want to rub him up.
'Can you move this way a bit please Jem? I can't reach you.'
I turned onto my side a bit more because I knew what Raf wanted, and I don't mind.
I felt his hand on mine as he started to do it…quite slowly…..and then he put his hand under my bottom so he could reach my tickly bit with his finger. I'd never had that bit of me felt like that before…..it's a lovely feeling. After about five minutes he made me stop, and leaned over me, making me go on my back.
It gradually felt stronger and stronger until the feeling came like a huge and deep bath of…..something…….like warm water in swirls. It's weird. I had my knees right up and my legs wide apart so he could feel me. He was doing that perfectly just as I got it. I felt bad just after because I started to think about Otta just before it happened, and not about Raf. We lay there looking at each other. He held my hand. He's so sweet with me. I wish he was my brother.
'I want to. Can I, now?'
He didn't say no! He lay back but with his head propped up against a mound of grass and sand so he could see me doing him, and I sat up with my weight on my left arm as I rubbed him with my right hand. We both watched……our eyes trained on the end of his willy. I used all my fingers and quite close to the tip…..just under the flared out head bit…and my thumb underneath. He told me when to go slower, or speed up. Near the end he just went quiet, apart from his breathing which got a bit louder. Then with no warning it all came out, but not nearly as much as the time before…….a couple of big blobs which fell onto his tummy. I kept going for a little while after to make sure his feeling was completely over, and a bit more came out, the last bit just dribbling down onto my thumb. I love making boys come.
'What does it taste of Raf? Can I?'
'You can if you want Jem. You might not like it though. Put a tiny bit on the end of your finger. Try that.'
I did. It was ok really…not what you'd call nice…but ok.
We put our shorts on, and Raf said he needed to do a bit more to his picture. He put me in his picture. I was standing on a mound of grass a few yards in front of him. Our stuff had more or less dried out. I stood there in the sand in my knickers, as Raf likes to call my pants, for about ten minutes and then he said he'd done me…..got me in the picture ok. I ran down to look. He's done me brilliantly, with really quick brushstrokes so it was just a bit vague but it definitely was me. He took it off the easel contraption thing and held it towards me so I could see it properly.
'Go on…look at it properly……it's you. Do you like it?'
'Yeah! Yes of course I do……it's great. Can I show it to my mum please? Is it dry?'
'Do you want me to put shorts on you…..she might not like it as it is?'
He'd painted me without anything on. That's clever don't you think?
'No, she won't mind, but I'll have to explain who you are and all that. Would you mind if I did?'
'No of course I wouldn't…….tell her anything you want to, it's fine, but I'm going to put those shorts on you. Sorry. Something else. I'm going to give the picture to you.'
'Really! Oh thanks Raf…….Otta will love it too …....I know he will…he loves painting and all that stuff.'
'Who's Otta, Jem? Your brother or someone?'
'Oh, he's just the son of a friend of my mother's. He's goes to my school but he's younger. They're coming to stay next week I think. Can I take it now……take it home to show her?'
I'd started another one, this time looking into the afternoon sun towards the distant headland. The point of land looked a very pale mauve and almost invisible against the bright light and enveloped in haze and the idea looked a real beauty. Sometimes when I see things like that my eyes start getting watery. I think I must be rooted firmly in the Romantic School! Well…….no particular harm in that I suppose…..and then putting naked boys in the landscape as well. I guess that's a bit iffy really, especially when the boy in question is going to show it to his mum. Not really a good idea. Not that I haven't done it before, because I have. It was a couple of weeks ago. They were playing right in front of me stark naked without a care in the world. They come in from a bathe and take off their trunks to dry them out. They don't have spares, so mum tells them to go and play in the dunes for a while out of sight. That's it. You see them all the time.
Jem has mentioned this Otta person several times, and I'm wondering if I will see him. What a fantastic name for a boy. Maybe it's Welsh or something….or is that Offa as in the Dyke? If ever I have a son I am definitely going to call him Otta….no doubt about it, I am.
Jem had been gone quite a while, and then I see him on his way back. Is he on his own? No, there's someone walking some way behind him……a woman, That must be Jem's mum, but he's going pretty fast like he's trying to get up here before her. He struggles up the last steep mound of sand, a little breathless……
'Hi! You got up here in double quick time didn't you? What's up?'
'It's mum…….she wants to say hello. Do you mind? I ran up here in case you didn't want to see her. You could leg it now if you want? Sorry, do you mind?'
'Oh. No of course I don't mind. Is that her over there?'
She was tall and slim, wearing a pair of cut off denim shorts, and a white sleeveless tee shirt and sandals. She had painted finger and toe nails….a dark pink colour. She had long light brown hair….almost gingery, and had the kind of smile on her face that told you that it was going to be ok………and it was. We talked about painting, and where I lived and who my parents were and all sorts of other stuff like that…and all the time Jem sat and watched and listened with this big grin on his face. Having had plenty of practice at it, I knew how to behave for boys' mothers and I could tell I was going down quite well with this one……besides she was instantly likeable so it was easy. Jem had introduced me very nicely.
'Mum, this is Raf. He painted the picture.'
'I know he did darling. How was your swim then Raf?'
I'd forgotten about the pants we put to dry on the grass tussock……she'd spotted my blue ones. Jem's were gone, but mine still lay where I had left them. She may have put two and two together. I looked at Jem's shorts. He had changed his green ones for an identical pair of faded blue ones.
'Oh sorry…….we went for a swim and…..'
'They'll be full of salt. Perhaps you'd let me rinse them out and dry them at the house. Jem…..bring Raf down to the house later so he can collect them. Is that alright Raf? Oh, and that was very kind of you to give the painting to Jem. I know he'll treasure it. It's lovely…..and to meet you too. You will come down won't you? Do you mind if Jem stays?'
It took me another hour and a half to get the second painting done, bar some finishing off which I can do later back at home. Jem, apart from two or three short periods of activity in the sand hollows and hills in front of me, stayed by my side the whole time. We were physically touching most of that time too, in subtle little ways. I would get him to stand in front of me in the two feet between me and the pochade box mounted on the tripod I was using, so that he could lean back into me gently and watch each brush stroke as I gradually built up the image, and would put my hand on his shoulder or chest every now and then, and run it down his tummy all the way down to his shorts. His pale blue ones are if anything, nicer than the others. They're a little looser, so occasionally my hand can stray just inside the gathered waistband and to touch him inside. I notice that his underwear is different. My hand goes to his side so I can follow the seam around his hip and along the line that leads towards the underneath of Jem's right buttock. Jem grips my arm. I love doing that with the boys I have known……the ones I know that enjoy that sensation….tracing lines with the tips of your fingers around bottoms. It's a quite delicious sensation when you're the one on the receiving end. We often did that to tease each other at school when we were fully clothed. That can be fun…….doing naughty things fully clothed in public. Very naughty!
But right now my concern is for Jem, and I put my head down slightly to smell his hair….smelling faintly of the sea and boy combined, and run my nose along the skin of his neck made warm by the sun, and decorated with their golden hairs in a neat line running vertically down his spine. Golden boy indeed.
I knew he could feel me as he leaned back, quite deliberately moving his bottom against me from side to side….…just enough to let me know what might be on his mind…..and to tempt me, which frankly didn't take much doing. I love his tummy, and I run my palm all over it….round and round….and up to his chest where the little red tips become firm under my fingers…..and into his tummy button……and lower now. The palm of my hands rests against the front of Jem's shorts now, and I can feel his penis through what I know to be two layers of cotton material. I press gently against it and there's swelling there.
'These are different knickers Jem, are they not?'
'Mum told me to put on clean. She knew I'd been in the water, so she told me to put these on, so I did. Sorry….do you mind? You like them anyway don't you? She said these suited me better.'
'Really? That's very discerning of her, and of course I don't mind. Why would I mind?'
'What's discerning mean?'
'Good question. I'll think about it ok?'
He turned his body round to face me with a broad grin on his face. I put my brush down, and unrestricted inside my shorts, I felt myself pushing into Jem's tummy as I held him firmly to me. I want him again.
'You will come back again won't you. You must…..and Otta is coming next week, mum said. Tuesday I think. Will you? And can you do some more of that please……what you were doing to me just now? I like that. It feels really nice.'
He has the most beautiful bottom……quite perfect in its form…..and quite resistant to my firm touch. It's alive and responsive. I could tell he enjoys this sort of stimulation. I have hinted at a little innocent and 'accidental' penetration and how it had met with an encouraging response from him. It's my guess that in time he will be more than receptive to invasion there. It's an amazing way to give yourself to another boy. I have done it. It happened when I was thirteen……..just a few months ago. It happened the day after I had heard that my painting had been accepted for the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. My friend wanted it that way, so I let him do it.
Jem asked me again about his friend Otta.
'Yes of course….I wouldn't miss Otta for anything after what you've told me about him.'
That won a big hug from Jem. I didn't initiate what happened next………he did. With my shorts deftly undone and lowered, and no underpants, he pulled me down to my knees, him following suit, and gripped me hard with his fist working the pressure from base towards the tip of my penis. He took what emerged onto his tongue, carefully collecting the clear viscous liquid from the very tip, and then passing my product over his lips….as if in a tasting session.
'It's nice…..I like it.'
'I hope you don't do that with all the boys you meet Jem?'
'No of course I don't silly……just you.' He laughed.
'Huh…..that's very nice, thanks Jem. Did I tell you what a very sweet boy you are? Did you know that?'
'Yes, yes you are….very.'
'Sweet enough to eat?'
'I'm not sure I'd go that far, but certainly sweet enough to make me want to cuddle you all the time. Do you want to?'
We made a good little nest with the sheet in the same hollow we had used before. We must have been resident in it for a good hour or so, enjoying each other's company both emotionally and physically. We were well off the 'beaten track' so we had no surprise visitors, helped by the fact that I had dismantled my painting rig, tripod and pochade box, which lay on the sand beside us. We talked about our own lives, our parents, likes and dislikes and lots of other funny things that had happened at various times…and our emotional and sexual experiences to some extent. His were of course quite limited, but interesting all the same. They were all with other boys more or less his age, or younger, and all of the experimental type….nothing very long lasting…apart from Otta. He seemed to be quite involved with him, although I don't think he really realises it yet…….well maybe not. Anyway, he was very excited at the prospect of Otta's visit next week……..as I was. He sounded totally delightful, and personally I couldn't wait to see these two together. As for the physical bit….it was all very tender, and dare I say it, loving. Jem will be, and in some ways he is already, a natural lover whether he matures ultimately into a gay youth or not. I rather hope not actually as I'm quite sure he would make a wonderful father to children as one day I hope to be. I know I will always love sex…the idea of it and the doing of it, and I know Jem does too, even at his tender age of twelve. Did I say 'even at his tender age'? I know when I was twelve I was having a good deal of basic sex with all and sundry. Jem is very touchy feely, particularly around his bottom bits which is just a tad unusual. I knew he needed one more 'feeling' but I was enjoying the slow build up to the point where he could wait no longer. I played with his balls for ages. I adore the feel of them inside the material of his deliciously soft underpants. Jem's mother has excellent taste. I kept teasing Jem, keeping him on the edge for what must have been half an hour. He asked me to play with his bottom at the same time. I needed to be reassured by him that he would accept what I wanted to do.
'Is this ok Jem……I won't do anything you don't like. You know that don't you?'
'Uhuh, I know that, but please don't stop Raf. Will you try please…..you know……try to do it now please?'
I couldn't believe what he wanted me to do. He had never had an experience remotely close to that before because I asked him outright. He hadn't. He asked me if I had. I told him I had. He wanted me to tell him about what happened. I did. It might have been Jem talking.
He had made sure that I wouldn't get hurt when he went in, going very gently, progressing a tiny bit at a time, but eventually he was in me. I rested in position until his body was fully settled and quite still. It felt ok although it had hurt a bit to start with, but it didn't hurt now at all. All the time I had my arms around his back as I dug into his skin. I wanted to do that. He told me he was going to come. When he did just after, I felt it all come out. We rolled sideways just afterwards, clinging on to each other. He was still in me. Shortly after I felt his penis come out. He put me on my back and wiped me. His cock was all shiny and covered in his gooey stuff. He started to cry. Then he kissed me all over my body. I just lay there. He got me dressed which I liked. Hours later I could still feel him.
'Will you write to me please……when I'm back at school?'
'Of course I will Jem……yes of course I will.'
He pulled me to him all the harder, and we were full of hunger and longing…and goodness knows what else probably. We relaxed eventually, and he asked me about the boys at school…….James, Olaf, Edward, my lovely sweet Simon, and the others in Dorm Three…..and Robert…bad prodigal Robert! We had fun discussing him and all his faults. Then he told me about all his friends…Otta in particular of course.
We wanted to walk, so we did……all the mile and a half along the beach to the river, tide out now but on the way in, and watched the fishing boats come into the river mouth, noisy gulls circling overhead, following the boats bound for the quay below the ancient town. I put my arm round him, and he responded by putting both his around my middle and resting his head against my chest, just a little below my chin. I lowered my head to savour him once again…….the exotic mixture of salt and sea, warm skin…and him.
'Look what you've done to my shirt, silly boy.'
Look at me, blue eyes, please?
'Am I? Am I silly?'
'No…..no, not at all. Sorry.'
It was becoming necessary to divert his attentions……for both of us. I was well on the way to an embarrassing state, and so was he, but he wouldn't have worried in the slightest. It was a bigger problem for me. I looked at him again while I held his shoulders……
Hey…can you see that object….way out there?'
'That spiky thing….on the horizon….it's a ship isn't it?'
'Err…yes…..but what sort?'
'An old sailing ship?'
'Looks like one of those sail training ones……oh, and by the way, I love you.'
'I love you too, you big…….you big person.'
We laughed. I didn't care who could see. I took his face in both hands and kissed him, and he kissed me back. It's really is true….I love him…..I really do.
'You're doing things to me, you bad boy. Good job there's no one too close isn't it?' Do you think those two over there can see us…the two people with the dog?'
'Don't care if they can. I like you like that.'
'Let's think about that ship out there shall we?'
I sent Jem on a mission to find a nice shell for his mother…..I know she'd like that little gesture. It didn't take him long to hunt something down and he found one……a sort of mother of pearl thing, and a heart shaped stone……perfect.
'I've got no pockets….will you carry them please?'
He didn't walk with me, but buzzed about pretending to be this and that, and generally staying in a fairly close orbit around me. He's given me his shirt to look after too. I couldn't take my eyes off him…..the slim legs and lithe torso…the unkempt pale brown hair…..and the neat little bottom covered, just, in the pretty pale blue shorts that are unable to conceal what lies within them, and the pale skin which had given him and me such tactile pleasure earlier. Our day would end soon, and the mundane couldn't be ignored. I had a bus to catch, first a double decker to the town, and then a change at the bus station followed by a twenty five minute pleasant, if a little bumpy, ride inland to my home some ten miles away. Meanwhile, I still had another hour with my wonderful new companion that I had met this morning quite by chance. It was a joy just to be with him, with his openness….his lovely winning smile…..and the gift of sex, if and only if, he really wanted it. Even if I never saw him again, I would treasure this day….and I hoped he would too.
We were about three hundred yards away from the point at which we would divert from the relatively flat sandy beach to start the climb up the dunes to our makeshift camp. Jem called out a few yards in front of me…..
'It's mum! She's coming this way!'
Twenty minutes or so later we were gulping down orange squash in the modern terraced house…one of twelve in two back to back rows with a sea garden overlooked by first floor outdoor sitting areas dividing the two rows. My painting was propped up to the side of one of the kitchen units on the worktop. I thought it quite successful, and better than my usual efforts often done in very windy conditions, and sometimes rain. I'd caught my human subject nicely too. Somehow it was just like him. The fact that I'd painted Jem very quickly meant that his nudity was not really recognizable. Two or three more touches of colour suggested clothing, but I knew better. Anyway, there was enough doubt about to allay any fears jem's mother might have. She made no mention of his state of undress when she saw it but the significance of it surely wasn't lost on her? No, I'm sure it wasn't.
'So……have you two had a good day? I think you have haven't you? Did you get any more painting done, or did this tyke successfully distract you…..I hope not…….you didn't did you Jem?'
'No I didn't actually. He did do another one didn't you Raf.'
'Yes I did……but not a huge success really…..but fun.'
'Oh good…..he can be a bit too demanding of his friends sometimes. So when does your bus go? We could always run you home if you want….it's no trouble.'
'In about twenty minutes…….five ten from the main road by the shop.' Then Jem piped up….
'Can I walk with you please…..to the bus?' His mother quickly added…..
'Yes, but go and sort out your bedroom please Jem. It's a total mess up there.'
I knew why she's said that. She wanted 'a word' with me.
You can imagine what was going through her mind at that moment….what exactly had happened in the dunes? Something had……a mother's intuition told her so. Our conversation stopped short of the bare facts as it were, but she did intimate that Jem's behaviour was showing signs of promiscuity and I agreed with her, expressing my concern, somewhat hypocritically, that he should be careful when he makes new friends whilst roaming the landscape, and that he understands the possible dangers of being too friendly with people he doesn't know, especially if it happens to be an adult or older boy. She asked me several more questions about my home circumstances, parents, school and so on for her own peace of mind I think and I was very forthcoming, after all she had a perfect right to know something about the person her son had spent his day with.
'Well…..do you think the two of you will see each other again this summer. I think Jem would like to.'
'Umm…..I come down most of the good weather days, apart from when I have things on at home and all that stuff.'
'His friend Otta is here next week……maybe then? You could always call in here first.'
That sounded like an invitation. Oh yes, not much doubt about that…….and I just had to meet the owner of that name.
I had to wait a few days, but it happened.
Otta is a total delight…..just a little smaller than Jem, and with a slighter build and very fair in colouring. He's outgoing and intelligent and sensitive……always mindful of the feelings of others…… and reminded me rather of James at school. I think I was expecting something Scandinavian looking…..I don't know why quite….wishful thinking maybe. He has, in fact, mid brown hair and that very English schoolboy look…very like the sensible boy in Lord of the Flies….was it Ralph? He's at that age of physical development when their trainers look ridiculously big for them at the end of their long prepubescent legs, just a little out of proportion with the rest of their body…..but very beautiful in his own way.
I met him at Jem's. I called in on my way to paint the coastline again. After a few pleasantries, we left Jem's house, crossed the road, and the three of us made our way up the steep sandy hill from the road just yards away from the house up onto the top of the dunes to see again that stunning vista before us. It's quite a hard five minute climb up, and even the fittest tend to pause at the top to admire the view, as we did. The day was clear save some very paintable cloud build up to the west, and the gulls were enjoying the clear air, rising and falling in the breeze, wheeling and screeching as they will just a few yards above our heads. Otta wanted to carry the tripod for me, and Jem insisted he take charge of the box that fits on top so I can stand up and work. We were never allowed to sit and paint. We always stood. Good advice that.
I had the rucksack on my back with all the rest of the minimal kit I needed. At the top, as we stood looking over the long extent of drying sand…dark where still wet from the receding tide…and pale where the sand lay higher and had drained to leave its reflective lustre. I looked down to my right to measure Jem's reaction and he looked up at me and gave me one of his smiles. I put my hand on his shoulder and he returned the gesture by putting his arm around my middle. I turned towards Otta and put a hand on Otta's shoulder. I didn't look at him immediately. A few seconds later I did, and he was looking up at me. I smiled down at him. He has those interesting brown eyes with little specks of green in them. His face wore a questioning expression…unsmiling, yet searching somehow. Curious.
'Can I take my shirt off please…..I'm a bit hot?'
'Yes of course…..but I'm not in charge of you am I? You two can do what you like. Do you want me to hold that for you?' Then Jem chirped up….
'We want you to be in charge of us Raf. We do don't we Otta? Be in charge of us please?'
Shirtless now, I put my hand back on Otta's shoulder. He reacted in a way that surprised me a little…he moved closer so that his right shoulder pressed against the side of my chest. In turn, and to tell him I liked what he had just done, I pressed his shoulder feeling the bone beneath the skin…and moved my hand up and down his arm, letting it come to rest half way down. I did the same to Jem. I'm very happy to be in charge of them. We walked along the beach which was quite empty. It was too early for the families from the nearby holiday camp to have organised their tribes for another day on the sand and in the ever receding shallow waters, and too early for those that come from near and far to fill the grass car parks behind the dunes. The boys ran and played chase, circling around me…..sometimes one of them stopping to use me as a human shield. It made me feel warm……and full of love for my charges….and proud to be with them. It was dorm three again………a warm belonging and my need to nurture.
I wanted a different aspect on the landscape today, and I decided on a spot I'd tried before and found productive, so we made for the nearest gulley…..one of those naturally formed valleys between high points, which meant another climb, this time in the opposite direction. We found the perfect spot on a tiny bluff covered and held together by a large tuft of marram, behind which was a hollow ideal for base camp, and overlooking the beach some thirty or so yards below. If we'd had a flag pole, it would be flying our standard. As it was, the boys left me with their tee shirts, bare footed, and dashed off running and leaping from high points down into the soft warm sand, laughing and chasing. In the meantime I'd set up my painting rig and was contemplating not doing anything today…I'd quite like to just watch the boys play. I might not see it again. They never went far away, just occasionally straying out of sight along one of the top pathways, just to reappear moments later. Otta, being a little younger I suppose, seemed to be quite anxious not to stray too far from base which I found rather endearing. Every now and again he would come back, disregarding Jem's shouted orders, to place himself on all fours close to my feet and below me in my viewing position on the marram bluff and smiling broadly…….
'Will you play with us?'
'Those running and jumping games are for young kids Otta……not for big guys like me.'
'Jem said you played with him. It's not fair……will you?'
Of course I got around his enigmatic question with non-committal answers because there was no way I could get involved with this beautiful boy in that way. But does he know? Had Jem told him everything? Quite possibly. A few minutes later two very warm looking figures appeared in front of me.
'Can we go in now?'
Their shorts were off in seconds. Otta's shorts and pants came down in one, and as he restored his modesty by standing and separating the two, and then stepping back into his briefs, he gave me the best sight possible. Could he possibly have meant that to happen? No.
The boys were gone in seconds, their cast off shorts lying by my feet. I picked up Otta's. Sewn into the waistband was the familiar Cash's name tape in red script……..Otta Harris 9…..the figure nine I imagined was the school's laundry ID number. They were his white sports shorts. Nice ones too.
The two figures disappeared into the distance, marching towards the shallows with some purpose clad in white cotton. In ten minutes they were back. I'd prepared for their return, the boys glistening with drops of residual seawater, by laying the sheet out so it would accommodate the three of us.
'Where should we put our pants to dry?'
'Can we go without shorts for a bit please Raf………'til we're all dry?'
This is the ideal opportunity to study Otta in detail, as he lies naked beside me. He looks about right for a boy of eleven, but with barely visible testicles taking their refuge in the lower reaches of his tummy, and just a small area of the dark pinky brown textured skin visible. The penis however is a different story. He is noticeably larger than Jem…..his prepuce just covering the glans which itself is broader than the shaft by some way and with a very prominent corona…paler than the surrounding skin……a gift indeed. A deep shadow at the round opening of the foreskin…….deep pink in the recess which I took to be the opening at the very tip of the boy's glans. He was perfectly comfortable naked, as almost all boarding school boys are of course. They're used to it.
'Your mother gave me this……you'd better use it or she'll be upset if you go back looking burnt. Go on Jem.'
'Will you do it please Raf. I hate the feel of that stuff on my hands. Otta doesn't like it either, do you Otta.'
'Go on then…….you first Jem…….if you lie here……Otta this side please…….front or back first?'
To get to Jem, I had to lean over Otta who was lying on his side with his back to me, and Jem was on his back.
'This isn't going to work Otta, go the other side please.'
With Jem in the middle now, and Otta propped up on his elbow watching, I attended to the reclining boy. Of course he'd planned it….probably both of them had. I suspected that it was a game, and I deliberately made a meal of it. Upper body done, and then legs, and the stimulation was beginning to have an effect on Jem. Otta was transfixed, probably fully aware of Jem's little joke. I left Jem's inner thighs until last. By the time I had finished with him….well, it was too much for the lad. Otta was greatly amused. They were both laughing as I attended to Jem's tummy, and carefully avoiding his excited genitalia.
Jem done, and pleased with the successful result of his little trickery, it was Otta's turn. Between us again, he giggled as the cooling cream was applied first to his face, and then chest and tummy. Feet came next, then up to his knees, and then his thighs, on the upper parts first, then the outsides and finally working my way up the insides. As I did so, he opened his legs a little wider to accommodate my hands and thus allowing them to go to the limit of their travel, coming to rest a fraction short of the almost hidden testes. I reworked those areas making quite sure the sun protection had fully disappeared…and then back around his tummy.
There was now a hand there……and it wasn't Otta's. Jem was holding his penis, gripping it just below the glans, whilst gently rubbing Otta's tummy. Otta had responded as most boys would have done in the face of irresistible stimulation, and was impressively large and hard now as he turned his back to me and began to respond to Jem's attentions. He went directly to fondle and play with Jem's balls before pushing his friend's hand away and take the hard penis for himself. Getting the familiar message, Jem immediately took Otta in hand.
I left them to it, and hands firmly in pockets, I made my way down to the beach. I must have been gone fifteen minutes or so, and when I arrived back the boys were still and close, facing one another. Whatever had happened was over now. I lay down beside them as before, but to do so, I had to move the sheet off them, which I replaced over all three of us when I was in position as before. They were both slightly crouched, and faces close to one another. Jem's eyes were open and he looked solemn.
'Are you two ok? Jem….would you answer please…….Jem?'
At that moment, Otta turned towards me. He looked like he had been crying.
'Would you like to tell me what's the matter? You don't have to. Maybe I can help.'
He let me look at it. It looked worse than before when I had had the little preview I had been treated to earlier. It was very sore, and clearly very recently aggravated. I needed to talk to Jem about this sort of thing as soon as possible before he got himself into trouble. He's got the idea from somewhere, but mismanaged it badly by the look of things. I think that Jem would prefer that the conversation I have in mind was with him rather than his mother. I always carried some lip moisturizer on outdoor trips because of the sun and wind. I managed to dissolve partially a whole chunk of the stuff which I managed to break off between my fingers and apply it to poor Otta's sore part. He grizzled a bit but he would live, and by tomorrow morning he would be fine.
'Otta…..can you guard the camp for ten minutes……I need to talk to Jem on his own?'
It was pretty obvious what they had been doing, or rather trying unsuccessfully to do, and as a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, I put him right with a series of warnings about possible consequences. Otta wasn't enjoying being experimented on in this way, but Jem told me that it was Otta's idea, and he had persuaded Jem to try. He needed some technical advice, clearly. I didn't give it to him….well not so far anyway. I also need a word with Otta. I am no expert myself but I am capable of applying some common sense to most situations and Jem definitely needed putting right on a number of matters. I hope I have done a good job. By the end of our 'stroll' he was suitably contrite and I think I had made my point and he had taken to heart my comments on what his attitude should be towards his friend. He's doing things that are not safe. When we got back to 'base' Otta looked up at us, shielding his eyes from the sun. Jem addressed him quietly……
'I'm sorry Otta……..I'm really sorry.'
Within a few minutes they were both fine and playing together and normal service had been resumed. Then a few minutes later Otta broke off their game and asked me…….
'Can I walk with you a bit please Raf?'
With Jem this time left at base, Otta and I made our way down the sand hills onto the beach. The tide was well in by now so the throng had been forced back into the thirty or so yards of dry flat sand, some having retreated into the lower parts of the dunes. We steered a windy path through the various groups of families as we talked. I put an arm around his shoulder as we strolled…and he in turn put his arm around my waist. It stirred me.
Otta told me what had happened. Although I was half expecting what Otta had to say, I was still a tad shocked that they had even thought about it. Two boys eleven and twelve? Admittedly, I had done it when I was twelve, so I suppose if I could, then so could they. I couldn't help visualizing the two of them coupled like that. Can you imagine? The image of the two boys joined together intrigued me.
'We want to Raf. What should we do?'
I can assure you that I did my best to discourage him.
'I don't care. We're going to do it anyway.'
Ok, then you need help.
'Right Otta. There are one or two thing you need to know. Would you like me to help you? It'll mean me being with you for a while. How would you feel about that?'
'Please, would you? I know Jem wants you.'
'Is it because he's your friend and you want to please him? Do you think that's it?'
'Yes I do. He's angry with me, I know he is. He won't say he isn't, but he is.'
At that point he freed up completely. Apparently, they sleep in the same bed. I hadn't known it was a two bed house. They'd tried in bed last night with painful results. 'Daddy' Jem had got cross with 'mummy' Otta. They'd both got the idea some time before from the usual sources and made up their minds that when Otta came down to stay, they'd try it. Fair enough. I didn't tell him then, but I carried certain 'survival' items in my rucksack for unexpected encounters, one of which was something that would solve the boys' problem. First, they'd both need a biology lesson…….and a few tips on technique. As I've said, my experience is very limited, but I do know the basics. I remember the time, and it was one of the most exciting things I had ever done.
It must have been about five when they insisted they try. I agreed to get a later bus so that they could, with my assistance and I was excited at the prospect of some subtle and pleasurable participation.
Otta of course would be 'mummy' and wanted to be on his back. I had explained the necessity of having to get Otta 'ready', and to show him what he needed from his partner…..some tenderness. Jem, fresh from his chastening from me, went to work with great sensitivity on his friend, with some nice touches…working with his tongue, and caressing his friend in all the right places. I showed him how to gently open 'mummy' with his thumbs. Jem copied my demonstration well. The stimulation in a new place prompted Otta to pleasure himself with my hand gently placed on his.
'You need to stop now Otta.'
'I think I've found it Raf.'
'Be careful Jem……like I told you ok? Be very gentle.'
I could see Jem working. He's making a nice job of it. Otta's a lucky boy.
Jem began a slow rhythm. I could hardly contain myself.
Otta would have to accept the inevitable……a process that would not be stopped now until Jem had finished what he had started. Otta remained erect throughout the whole event. As Jem approached his climax, I helped Otta with his. In the event they both came very close together ….Otta first by a hairs breadth. His contractions were rapid suggesting that Jem had succeeded at stimulating Otta as I had.
Jem lay on top of Otta, their mouths occasionally touching, and their breathing slowing now. The boys' separation would occur quite naturally as Otta's body would reject Jem's softening penis. Separated now, I saw to both of them thoroughly, making sure that Jem's penis was properly sanitized and Otta's bottom was completely clean. I always carry wet wipes, and only the best quality ones I might add, to remove any surplus oil paint from my hands after a painting session.
'Are you two ok?'
Both boys nodded, Jem with a faint smile on his face…..Otta looking wide eyed and probably still coming to terms with his achievement.
'I think we should cuddle Otta for a while Jem, don't you?'
As Jem did as I asked, I rearranged my briefs and shorts. The boys hadn't noticed during their own little session, and the evidence of my activity had disappeared into the sand, and easily covered. I joined the two boys, putting myself against Otta's bare back, and his brown lower neck adorned with golden downy hairs, and warmed deliciously by the late afternoon sunshine.
'Don't you think you should leave him now Jem?'
'No, I want to.'
Otta opened his legs and watched. Both boys had hardened again completely. Such is the power of recovery of the prepubescent system. Beautiful.
I saw Jem once more that summer, but only in the company of his mother, and whilst walking on the beach. The weather that day had turned showery and I had given up all hope of finishing anything I had started to paint. They were both very friendly, but something had changed, and I never found out what exactly. It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm back at school and of course distracted by all the new things here…..new boys in the dorm to cope with……no choir duties now……and a considerable academic work load looming. I did write to Jem at his school in Suffolk, and received a reply after a week or so. I'm holding the letter now as I sit on the edge of my bed in dorm three. It's quiet up here because it's off limits to boys during school hours and the hour and a half after school before tea, although that rule is ignored by a few who need some private time with a friend. Simon is coming soon I hope, sans shoes as I am, to avoid any unnecessary noise that might be heard. I've kept the letter in its envelope and for the last week it's been resident in the inside pocket of my blazer. Here's what it says…….
He hasn't written since. I wrote to him again weeks ago, twice in fact, but I'm not really expecting a reply now. I've lots of friends here, but I'm a bit sad. I know it's irrational but I am…..I can't help it. I think of him lots of times every day. You never know……maybe next summer? It's just stupid really…..I know it's just bloody stupid.
I put his last letter, well actually the only letter, back in the envelope and then away in my inside pocket of my blazer where it had been for ages now. Dear sweet Simon……..always reliable and caring. He has his arm around me now and I can feel his face close to mine…….his breathing, soft and gentle as I make dark spots appear on my grey trousers. They should dry quite quickly I hope.
We stayed like that for a while until I felt better…..no words said because he already knows that I'm hurting and why. I turn towards him and I can see a few tears have formed in his eyes too. He can always do that when he wants to. He said his sister taught him how to do it. It's usually the other way round with Simon……..I'm the comforter. His life has been difficult in some very hurtful ways and he has needed my support which I have always given him. He knows I always will too. Boarding can be a lonely life when we suffer in silence to avoid the attentions of the bully or some other horrible person. Such was Simon…but not now. We look at each other…….we do that quite a lot……just looking and feeling for each other's thoughts through our faces.
'We don't have to Raf. You're probably not feeling very good……are you?'
'I'm ok. I can if you want to. We can wait until tonight if you want?
'Tell me….honestly…….you said you did.'
'Not really, but I will if you want? '
I take my hands off his face, transferring my hands to his middle and as I do so he stands up, and I guide him so that he's standing between my legs, close, as I sit on the bedside. I place my palms on the outside of his upper thighs and my fingers pointing upwards, and I move my hands higher and higher until they cannot be seen. I can feel the familiar…..I can see the familiar, and he knows what I will do now. Exposed now, the whiteness……the softness of material, and now what lies within it. Simon is a gift to me. My hands are behind him now, pulling him towards me. He looks down as I gently expose him.
A mother will always know when there's something wrong, and poor Jem is suffering a little. It's a good thing that he has Otta here to divert his thoughts, but that doesn't prevent them of course. It's nothing too serious and he'll be fine in a few days I'm sure. He hasn't talked about it….well not to me anyway, and why should he. It's a personal thing. I'm sure he has with Otta though….boys' things and all that. Otta's wonderful for him…..always calm and reassuring and caring. What a sweet boy he is, and I'm so glad that their relationship seems quite constant. While Jem goes up and down, Otta stays on the ground and he's always there to catch him as he descends. He's a bit younger, but that doesn't matter. We had tears yesterday…two days after his day spent on the beach with the boy he met painting in the dunes.
My goodness, what a lovely boy he was too. Jem has the painting he gave him on his wall already. I like it….very atmospheric, especially with the figure in it. It is Jem apparently. I think he must have posed for him otherwise how could he have caught him like that? It's not much more than suggestion, but none the less very effective if you use a little imagination. I keep looking at it. I love it, and done by a fifteen year old.
Something happened up there, I know it did. Jem's at that age now and is becoming much more aware I think, and his body is doing things that he can't always control. I know boys start things at his age, and I'm sure he's been active for a while judging by what he's left under the bed. Boys never think their mothers look under their beds. It's the first place we look. I haven't seen him without clothes for a while….he's more reticent about being seen like that these days which is another sign according to my friend who has an older son.
No, that stage won't bother me because it's a natural part of his life. My friend warned me about morning wood. Jem doesn't seem at all bothered about it. He's careful that I don't actually see it in the flesh, but he's not bothered about hiding it which I think is good. Occasionally we've passed each other in the hall on his way to the loo. Actually I'm quite relieved that he looks ok…….or rather it looks ok, at least to me. You want them to be 'normal' don't you? Otta's just the same when he's here. They sleep together….well not in the same bed…..in the same room and in twin beds next to each other so they can talk boys' talk nice and quietly. They're lovely together those two, and what I like about it is that they are so tactile with each other. Otta will put his arm round Jem's shoulder, and things like that.
Jem has an early bedtime, about nine usually, as we refuse to have a TV down here at the beach. It's a case of reading a good book I'm afraid. We won't compromise on that one, and they seem to accept it ok. He's tired of course, after a day roaring around the beach and swimming and so on. I think Jem's fine……..just a little upset that's all. It'll pass.
Jem's bedroom. It's ten o'clock already.
'Are you asleep Jem?'
'No Otta…….are you?'
'Well no…..of course I'm not silly……otherwise I wouldn't be asking you would I. You're daft sometimes, do you know that.'
'Umm…..I know I am.'
'Jem………why were you crying………….you were weren't you?'
'No I wasn't.'
'You were……your body was all shaky. I could see you…and hear you as a matter of fact. Is it Raf?'
'Well is it then? It is isn't it?'
Silence for a few moments.
'Can I come in with you? You're making me sad Jem. Can I please?'
Otta climbs in with his friend.
'Can we take this blanket off….it's really hot in here.'
'It's you Otta…..you've made it all hot. Go on then…….the sheet's fine.'
'You are upset aren't you? He's nice though. I could see you really liked him. He liked you too. You never told me what happened….not properly anyway. What did he do Jem? Go on tell……please…..I won't do this any more if you don't.'
'Then I won't do this for you either……meany.'
'Do you want to now?'
'Ok……but you can go on doing that…..what you're doing.'
'Like this? I wonder why they go hard like that…your nipply things. See……..they've gone really hard and bumpy. Girls things do that so Robert said. He's done it…..or so he says……….probably has too. I like doing this. Do you like it?'
'Umm…..keep doing it…..it's nice. Do my tummy with your other hand.'
'I can't…..I've only got one hand free……..turn over this way a bit. Yes, like that. Did you say you didn't want to do anything? It doesn't look like it if you don't mind me saying.'
'It's not fair Otta. Yours is better than mine and you're younger than me.'
'Only a bit…..but yours gets sperm and mine doesn't. You have to take that into consideration. It's swings and roundabouts.'
'You sound like my mother….all reasonable.'
'I love your mum. you're lucky to have a mum like that. Yours looks better than mine, and your testicle things are bigger too. Mine are all tight and bunched up. I think mine's an ugly thing. Do you think all boys do it then?'
'Probably……maybe not all. I bet Parsons doesn't….he's too busy staring at the stars with that telescope thing probably. Shall I ask him next term? Do you dare me to ask him?'
'No don't……..they're quite loose now Otta…..your testicles………all squishy feeling. Does this feel nice?'
'Umm. Are you sure you don't want to Jem?'
'Raf got this clear slippery stuff.'
'I know what that is…….do you?'
'Yes…….he explained it. I felt it and….'
'And what, Jem?'
'You did, didn't you. Go on, you did….tell me you did.'
'I reckon he will come back…….when it's sunny again probably. I love my picture. Do you like it Otta?'
'There's only a few days left now….he probably won't. He's getting ready for term….he said he was…….and yes, I do like it. I wish he would put me in one….too late now.'
'I think I've changed my mind Otta.'
'About what? Oh…that. I thought you might change your mind. Can we hug really hard first please……..just for a minute…….before we do?'
'Umm…….ok. Is it me first?'
'Umm. Can you go really slowly please Otta, so it lasts?'
'Umm, just like that.'
I always look in on him before I go to bed, or in this case the two of them. Otta had got in with Jem, and was lying on his side cuddled into Jem. He was lying on his back with Otta's arm over his tummy. It was a warm night and they had abandoned the covers, more or less, save the top sheet that just about hid their knees. My curiosity as to what my son looked like in his present state has now been satisfied. He looks lovely and I'm glad I've seen him like this, just once.
I pulled the sheet up over the boys' shoulders. They were both sound asleep and resplendent in their Golden Age, soon sadly to know a baser metal no doubt, but long may this endure. Otta, although the younger of the two, is a very kind boy, and Jem has been a bit down the last couple of days. He would been sensitive to Jem's upset and would have wanted to give him some comfort I'm sure. I just think it's nice that they can show affection to each other like this. It's hard for us 'Olympians' to understand our childrens' behaviour sometimes, but in a way I think they often know best. So be it. We've just forgotten what it was like.
Three months later.
It was the Christmas holiday and the weather was unseasonably fair.
'Your Father wants a walk at the beach Raf……are you coming? Jane is.'
We took the familiar path. Jem's summer home was in sight, empty no doubt, and the warm weeks have passed.
'You're quiet Raf……….are you ok?'
'Yes……of course I am………I'm fine dad……really I am.'
'Are you sure?'
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