The Au Pair Boy
by Jolyon Lewes
Chapter 4
Thursday
Next day, Thursday, Jens walked the boys to school in shorts. Walking back home in Nick's jogging pants he saw few people giving him a second glance. Nick was able to contain his emotions - or maybe that should be emissions - and didn't need to change his boxer shorts until much later in the day.
Hilda made no comment to Jens about the jogging pants other than to look at Nick with an expression that said 'I recognise those - they're yours, aren't they?' Then, when Jens was out of earshot she spoke to Nick.
"Nice of you to lend him your joggers, Nick. It'll save the poor boy his blushes, always tugging down on his shorts. Such a beautiful boy."
To which Nick could only smile and nod.
Jens had offered to cook supper so at the grocery pork had been purchased and the ingredients for dumplings. Back at home Nick showed Jens how to set the washing machine going and a couple of hours later, as well as assorted items belonging to the family, Nick had half a dozen newly-washed pairs of boxer shorts. A visit to a very nice pub was enjoyed and so was another walk along the beach, for Jens to inspect some of the groynes.
"Go on, Nick, rub this old piece of wood just like you rub your own groin!"
Nick obliged with a grin and thought of the many times that week he'd been in bed, rubbing his woody as he thought of Jens.
For the afternoon school run Jens told Nick he was wearing for the first time the longest - or least short - pair of black shorts. Over them he wore Nick's jogging pants. Near the school he hid behind a tree and took off the jogging pants, ready to meet Andrew and Joe. He looked uncannily like their elder brother.
Walking home, Nick saw that Jens's shorts stopped at his tan-line and succeeded in keeping his bottom covered even when he bent forward to tie Joe's shoelaces. So Jens had no need to keep plucking at the hems of his shorts but instead he kept scratching where the shorts covered his hips.
As soon as they all got home, Nick filled the kettle for tea. Jens said he was just going upstairs for a minute and when he came down again Nick could see he'd changed out of the longest shorts and was wearing a shorter pair. The fluorescent kitchen lighting made Jens's tan-line stand out. It was well over an inch below the hems of the shorts and Nick was treated to more tantalising glimpses of Jens's bare bottom.
The stirrings began again and Nick thought of his collection of boxer shorts. Was it big enough? Then his father arrived and he and the four boys sat down to cups of tea and Chocolate Penguins. After that was over Andrew and Joe went to play in their bedroom and their father went up to shower and change, leaving Nick with Jens in the kitchen.
"Do you mind if I watch you cooking?" asked Nick, as Jens donned a blue and white apron. "Or I could help you by peeling the potatoes."
"No, Nick, thank you but no, I must do everything myself. After Saturday you won't be here so I'll have to do it all myself. It's my job. But do please watch me if you like. I'm making a typical German meal for us. I hope the boys will like it."
"The boys will like anything you make. I think they're growing to love you." Nick had to stop himself from adding 'So am I.'
Nick sat at the kitchen table watching Jens toiling at the sink. The apron reached Jens's knees but only at the front, leaving Nick with a fine view of Jens's rear. The little shorts couldn't quite reach the crease at the top of each thigh and Nick marvelled at the smoothness of Jen's legs and thrilled at the sight of his bottom as it peeped from the shorts. He'd never felt like this about anyone, young or old, male or female.
"I see you're not wearing those longer shorts, Jens. Don't you like them?"
Jens turned to face Nick. "No, the material is very uncomfortable. It scratches my skin and it was painful when I was walking. I don't want to wear those shorts."
"Yeah, I saw they're much rougher than what you're wearing now and what Andrew and Joe wear. I wonder why those shorts are different. Maybe you should ask my father."
"It's alright, Nick, I'll keep them for an emergency."
So now Nick knew that Jens would choose to wear only the shortest five pairs of shorts and that had him pummelling his groin and in no time he knew he'd have to change into clean boxer shorts. It wasn't that he'd ejaculated but the pre-cum was making a bit of a mess.
By now Jens was cutting the pork into pieces and was about to peel and cut the onions.
"Would you mind if I go up for a shower?" said Nick. "It's good that my bathroom is only for you and me. We don't have to keep it too tidy for other people to see."
"Okay," said Jens. "See you down here when you've finished."
Before Nick showered he had a thoroughly good look in the mirror. What had happened to him in the five days since Jens's arrival? Previously Nick had been a quiet, sensible boy who never looked at pin-up photos of girls - or boys. Nor did he read sexy magazines but now he was seriously desiring a boy - Jens. He'd no idea what he wanted to do with Jens, always assuming Jens was willing but he knew he couldn't go up to Durham on Saturday without first having some sort of intimacy with the gorgeous young German. After his shower he put on clean boxers and some roomy corduroy trousers, the better to hide the activity in his groin he knew would be inevitable that evening. Forget morning woody - this was a permanent woody!
Andrew and Joe wore their school clothes till bedtime so Jens was obliged to wear what he called his uniform. This did not displease Nick. Everyone tucked into the delicious pork meal Jens had cooked and Nick's father produced a bottle of good German wine to go with it. Afterwards they all went to the sitting room to watch a bit of TV. All four boys sat together on the sofa and Nick found himself squeezed beside Jens.
Nick's right thigh was hard against Jens's bare left thigh. Jens's thighs were quite broad, totally hairless and gleamed brightly while Nick's, encased in dull brown corduroy, were slim by comparison and, he thought, rather nondescript. The extreme proximity of Jens made Nick excited; he was in contact with Jens from shoulder to knee. How he would love to have rested his hand on Jens's left leg but instead he rubbed his groin, quite slowly. It did not go unnoticed by Jens.
At bedtime for Andrew and Joe, Jens went upstairs with them to make sure they cleaned their teeth and to tuck them up, coming back downstairs still in his 'uniform.'
Nick had been discussing with his father his departure for Durham on Saturday, which would entail catching a morning train from Hastings. He was trying to sound enthusiastic but in reality he dreaded having to leave Jens, who entered the room just as Nick's father was making a proposal.
"I can understand your being nervous, Nick. It's a big move you're making but we all know it's for your own good. Tell you what - as tomorrow's your last full day here why don't we all go out for a slap-up supper?" He mentioned the name of the pub Nick and Jens had been to that lunchtime.
"Thanks, Dad."
Nick's father turned to Jens."You'd enjoy a nice meal out, wouldn't you, Jens? Mind you, it won't be as delicious as the meal you made for us this evening."
Jens smiled at the compliment and, brushing his fingers the length of his delectably bare thighs, asked if he'd need to wear his 'uniform.'
"You make a splendid sight in what you call your uniform, Jens, so wear it if you like but I expect the boys will be in jeans as it's the end of the school week. It's your choice - shorts or jeans."
"Thank you," said Jens, looking mightily relieved. "I'd feel happier in my jeans."
He ran his fingers up and down his thighs again and Nick wished it was his fingers doing the stroking. Jens plucked at his hems for possibly the hundredth time that evening. Nick felt some epic stirrings.
Nick's father suggested they go through to the sitting room for a chat. Nick felt a spasm of fear - was this to be a heart-to-heart or some kind of pep talk? Had his father seen the yearning looks he couldn't help directing at Jens? He needn't have worried. His father was beaming as he produced three small glasses and a bottle.
"Asbach," said Nick's father, looking at his son, "German brandy." Then he looked at Jens who'd taken the armchair to the right of Nick. "I expect your father enjoys this at home, Jens. Do you like it too?"
"It's his favourite drink! How did you know? Sometimes he lets me have some."
"I spoke to him on the phone yesterday, to tell him how well you're settling down here and we got to talking about drinks. He sends his love."
"May I telephone him, please?" said Jens. "I want to ask him to send my puppets - and some other things." As he said that last bit he shot a glance at Nick.
"Of course. A bit late now but tomorrow, whenever you like."
"Thank you," said Jens crossing his left leg over his right knee, which afforded Nick a sumptuous view of the whole of his bare left thigh and a sizeable chunk of bare bottom.
Nick's father and the two boys sipped their Asbach and chatted.
Nick was desperately trying to control his emissions.
"You're a keen photographer," said Nick's father to Jens. Did you bring your camera?"
"Oh yes, it's in the guest room. When the boys are at school I want to take lots of pictures of the beach and the sea and those strange groynes." Again he shot a glance at Nick.
Nick sat enjoying his drink, unable to take his eyes off Jens, who spoke about photography, cooking and drama, the latter topic in the context of puppets and puppet theatres. Nick's father poured everyone a second drink.
At last it was time for bed. Jens stood up and Nick saw his shorts had ridden up further than ever, requiring a considerable effort by Jens to tug down on the hems to attain something approaching decency.
Nick was in the bathroom, in just his boxers and had just finished cleaning his teeth when Jens, in his shimmering dressing gown, came in.
"Oh - I didn't know you were in here, sorry."
"That's OK, we're both boys so we don't need to lock the door."
"Hey, Nick, this is the first time I see your legs. Very nice. Yes, jolly nice. May I touch?"
Nick stood side-on to Jens, who crouched down to put his hand on Nick's leg, just below the knee. Jens's dressing gown opened to show that underneath all he had on were his tiny Sloggi briefs.
"Pretty solid," said Jens, copying what Nick had said on Tuesday evening. Then he moved his hand up to curl it round Nick's thigh, just above his knee. "Nice and firm here."
Nick's body was trembling at Jen's touch. It was a most exquisite sensation. He couldn't help saying "And higher up?"
This time Jens used both hands to encircle Nick's thigh about halfway up. "A pretty normal pair of legs," he said, "and very few hairs, thank God. You'll look good in my Lederhose. "
Nick began to laugh and to his relief his erection subsided a little. He hoped Jens wouldn't see it as he rose to the standing position. Luckily, Jens had his eyes not on Nick's tented boxers but on his face.
"I like your sense of humour, Nick," said Jens. "Have you finished in here now?"
"Yes, the bathroom is yours. Goodnight, Jens."
"Goodnight, Nick." Jens put his hands on Nick's shoulders, pulled him close, went up on tiptoe and gave him a tiny kiss on his forehead.
Nick turned and fled to his bedroom. It wasn't because the kiss had repelled him, it was because he'd have lost control of his emotions if he'd stayed. In his bedroom he tried to take stock. 'Jens seems to like me - he kissed me! He touched my leg! And what else was touching me when he kissed me? Was It his dick? If so it was hard as steel!'
Nick realised he was panting. About to swap his boxers for his pyjamas he knew what he'd be doing as soon as he was in bed. 'No point in messing my pyjamas, I'll keep the boxers on.'
Realising he'd forgotten to fill his glass with water he couldn't risk bumping into Jens in case matters got out of hand so he listened carefully and when he heard Jens go downstairs he waited a little longer then went to the bathroom. On the way back he peeped into the guest room. As before, Jens's clothes for the next day were laid neatly out. This time on the bed, next to a clean pair of Sloggis, lay the tiniest shorts of all, the little ones in gunmetal grey. Surely Jens wasn't going to wear them? What would he look like?
Now Nick had enough material in his head for about seven gargantuan masturbations! He shot into bed and turned out the light. In no time he'd shot his load.
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