A Boy Named James,

by Jolyon Lewes

Chapter 14

February 1965 (continued)

Half term over, James and I returned to school, where the Spring Term progressed pleasantly enough. James came often to my room for coffee, toast and maybe something nice from a bottle, and to chat. I played my classical LPs but he didn't seem to appreciate the music very much. He rarely spoke about the past so we talked about school or made plans for future adventures. I said one day I'd have a car and we'd go for a holiday on the Continent and I'd show him the Black Forest. It didn't occur to me that he might learn to drive and have a car before I did; I thought of him as a boy needing my protection and I was a man, keen to look after my little boy. That he was actually taller than me and had been the one calling the shots on many of our adventures seemed to escape me.

Sometimes he came to my room dressed in his PE kit, usually before or after one of his runs but sometimes just because he felt like wearing it. The sight of his bare and beautiful legs filled me with joy and lust and he knew it, the naughty young tease. On such occasions we'd sit side by side on my bed and he'd let me have a grope. This would lead to both of us having hard-ons and I almost had to beg him to leave so that I could enjoy the inevitable ejaculation in private. Whether he also needed to ejaculate I didn't know. We never talked about that sort of thing, restricting ourselves to comments about hard-ons, naughty thoughts and the groping of bare thighs. Mutual masturbation was never on the agenda.

My friends knew James came to my room and that I loved to watch him at sport. His dorm-mates knew he visited me most evenings and probably assumed we had sex. It was quite common for older boys to have younger boys as friends and some of these relationships were blatantly sexual and more likely to be gossiped about than my rather subdued behaviour with James. A couple of my friends said they were wildly jealous of me, for James was extremely attractive in looks and now that he spent far less time with the hard boys, in nature as well. One friend advised me not to go too far with him, whatever that meant.

"It wouldn't look good, Jolyon."

About a week before the Easter holidays began, James suggested having a sort of picnic in my room.

"We could have food and drink and some of your funny music," he said, "and to make it special we could both wear our prep school shorts. I take it you haven't thrown yours away."

Once again, it was he calling the shots. I said of course I'd still got the shorts he'd given me at half term and he suggested the last Sunday afternoon of term. He then gave me a pound note, saying it was to help buy our provisions. Being only a Lower Sixth-Former, he wasn't allowed into the village but I could go to the shops so it was my job to buy the goodies.

At three on Sunday James knocked on my door and in he came. We were both in school uniform.

"Don't look much like prep school shorts to me," he said, pointing at my long trousers.

He pulled from a bag his prep school shorts and began to take off his jacket and trousers.

"Come on, Jols, I wanna see you in shorts."

I took off my trousers and there, underneath, were the tiny little grey shorts.

"Fantastic!" said James. "You look really cute!"

We were now standing jacketless and in little grey corduroy shorts. If I looked cute he looked very much cuter.

"Let's see the spread," said James. "I'm thirsty."

I pulled a tea towel away to reveal on my desk a host of edible treats and then from my wardrobe produced a bottle of vodka, one of lime and one of red wine.

"Please be seated," I said as I poured us each a drink.

"Good health, Jols," said James, taking his first sip and then sitting on my bed. I sat beside him.

"I suppose it's too early for a grope," he said with an impish grin.

"It would make me lose my appetite," I said. "Let's tuck in."

In a while I put an LP on my record player. Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony . Our music master once said that if the symphony had been a written story instead of music the censor would have put blue lines all over the place, meaning that some of the music was extremely passionate. Knowing that the composer hadn't exactly been a ladies' man I wondered about the young men he'd been thinking about as he wrote the music.

"We need to have it quite loud," I said, without telling James that the music made me think of him..

When it was time for a grope we put down our glasses and moved closer together on the bed.

"Ugh! I can see some hairs on your leg!" said James, shouting to be heard above the music.

"Sorry," I said, loudly. "I can't help it, you know. But your legs are still blissfully hair-free."

"I should hope so! Now then, do you want to go first?"

I placed my hand on James's thigh, just above the knee and began the familiar and delicious process of moving it slowly, very slowly, up his magnificent leg towards his tiny grey shorts, which finished just above the faint tan-line an inch below the very top of his thigh. I was in Heaven.

When my hand reached the hem I let it stay there, feeling with my little finger the bulge in the front of James's shorts. Then the door burst open and in came the Head Boy.

"What the hell is going on here?" yelled the Head Boy.

James leapt to his feet and tugged down on the hems of his shorts. I remained seated, knowing that if I stood up my huge erection would have been obvious. I needn't have worried for in ten seconds it had vanished. I had much more to worry about now - I'd been caught fondling a boy two years my junior.

"Get out Ellis, get back to boys your own age. Now!"

Without picking up his long-trousered uniform, James fled from my room. The Head Boy closed the door behind him, switched off my record player and sat on my chair. I waited to hear what he had to say.

"Didn't you hear me knocking on your door, Jolyon? I don't usually burst in to my friends' rooms."

"No, the music was loud," I said, looking at the floor.

"I caught you fondling him."

That was statement of the obvious but he followed it with an inevitable question.

"And why are you both wearing those tiny little shorts?"

"They're his," I said, as if that answered his question. I looked briefly at my bare thighs and felt deeply ashamed.

"Look, I know he's very pretty but we can't have this sort of thing going on. Everyone knows he's your friend but dressing up as little boys, having sex and drinking alcohol on School property - if the Head knew about this you could be expelled!"

"What are you going to do?" I said, still looking at the floor. "We weren't having sex."

"How do I know you weren't planning to bugger him?" said the Head Boy. "Look, I'm not going to tell anyone so long as you promise you'll never have him in your room again. If you must meet him, do it with other boys around - and no more of your not-so-secret bike rides. Just be sensible, for God's sake."

I looked at him. He no longer looked angry.

"Thank you," I said, feeling tears welling in my eyes. "You've been very decent."

"Enough said, Jolyon. But remember everything I've said."

He got up to leave. For a second I thought of offering him a drink but realised it would not have been wise.

After he'd left I put on my long trousers and looked out of the window, perhaps hoping to see James out in the quadrangle but no doubt he'd have quickly got out of those prep school shorts and into sports kit. I'd have to get his uniform to him before Chapel. My mouth was so dry I had to consume a whole glass of lime squash. I pondered my position. The Head Boy could have wrecked my life but he was a good man and I would follow his instructions, for James's sake as much as for my own.

I arranged for Pete, a trusted friend, to take James's school uniform back to him and included a sealed note.

James, we won't be punished but you mustn't come to my room again and we've got to keep a distance from each other. It's awful but next term we can maybe work something out. Jols

At Chapel that evening I was relieved to see James was in his uniform, so he'd have read my note. As we boys bustled out into the quad I felt a familiar hand on my arm. We didn't make eye contact, which I found agonising but James pressed an envelope into my hand and for a few seconds our fingers were touching. It was the last time we touched until several weeks had passed.

James's little note was surprisingly upbeat.

Jols, they can't stop us meeting, it's inhuman. But if we aren't allowed to do it at school, we can do it when we're not here. I wish you could spend Easter hols with me but I know you're off to Germany. Promise to come to my place for half term in May. I'll have to resort to groping myself tonight! I'll pretend it's you. James

I felt my heart trying to burst with love. James had no intention of terminating our friendship and, indeed, was once again calling the shots. Next day I found a little brown envelope in my locker in the changing room. Inside was another note from James.

Groping yourself isn't much fun. We break up for Easter tomorrow so it's a month of abstinence for both of us. Promise you won't find some nice German boy to grope. James

Encouraged that James was being quite flippant I decided to reply in a similar vein.

I promise to be good but please may I have naughty thoughts and whatever follows? Jols

James's next note was cheeky.

Feel free to have lots of naughty thoughts, so long as they're about me and not those gorgeous blond German boys. Happy Easter. I'll be thinking of you. James

In our verbal conversations we'd always been a bit inhibited but in these notes we were being brazen. James's last note was essentially telling me to wank myself silly thinking about him. And, in the certain knowledge that James seemed to like me almost as much as I loved him, that is precisely what I did during my three weeks in Germany. Every day. Frantically.

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