Kaimoana Tales
by Kiwi
Riley
Part 21
Peter led the way, up the steps and through the gap in the wall at the back of the beach. They crossed the sidewalk and the road and walked the one short block back to the road at the foot of the hill.
Across there, the line of houses tucked in against the foot of the hill were quite substantial and newish looking, all except for one. One house was old and faded. Blue-painted, it was only about half the size of the neighbours', low to the ground and looked like it wouldn't be any more than one or two rooms inside. So, that, of course, was the house that they went into.
Peter untied and opened the front gate which was made of driftwood sticks tacked together. He stood back to let Riley enter. "Home sweet home," he said with an apologetic grin. "It's not much, but it's all ours. We'll go around to the back."
They walked the narrow, brick, path to the back of the house. The lush gardens all around them were mostly vegetables with a few rose bushes interspersed.
"Nice roses," Riley said, making conversation.
"Yes, they are," Peter replied. "They're old-fashioned roses. Mother grew them from cuttings taken from bushes in the oldest part of the cemetery. The flowers are small, but they have a very strong scent, much more than modern roses. We grow them to attract the bees to the beans and other vegetables. Plus, they do smell nice," he grinned.
"They do. They smell great."
An older lady came around the corner of the house. At first, Riley thought that she must be Peter's grandmother.
"Peter! There you are. Where have you been, My Son?"
"Hello Mother. I was swimming at the beach. I lay down and went to sleep in the sunshine. Sorry."
"No need for 'sorry'. Are you not getting enough sleep, is that the problem?"
"There's no problems, Mother. I just went to sleep."
"A young boy like you shouldn't need to sleep in the daytime. Do you not sleep at night?"
"I sleep fine - really. I was warm and comfortable in the sunshine. I relaxed and went to sleep for a few minutes."
"Are you sure? Oh, look at you! It must have been for more than a few minutes. You are sun-burnt! Peter, you know that your skin is fair, you must be more careful."
"I will. Mother, this is Riley, he's new in town. Riley woke me up and saved me from getting more burnt."
"Hello Riley. Thank you. You are most kind." Peter's mother smiled and he smiled back.
He liked this lady. She was small and round and old enough to be his grandmother. There was something nice and warm about her. She was quietly spoken and had a thick accent of some sort, but something about her made him want to listen and concentrate on every word.
"You are very nice boy. Most people would not do that for Peter. He doesn't have many friends."
"Mother, I don't have any friends, you know that."
"Well it is a shame. Those silly children, they don't know what they're missing." She turned back to Riley. "Peter is a very nice boy. He is a good son and a nice boy."
"I'm sure he is," Riley smiled. "I think he's nice too. But, you should know." Peter shook his head, but Riley ploughed on. "I'm really not that nice. I'm afraid I hurt him and made his back bleed. Sorry."
"You what? Peter, what did he do to you? Show me!"
"It's nothing, Mother. It was an accident. The wind blew the umbrella over when Riley was trying to move it."
"Why did he move it? Show me, Peter."
Peter sighed and turned to show his back.
"Ahh! Blood. What happened?"
Riley stammered. "The umbrella. The wind. It fell and the spines hit him. Sorry."
She looked at Riley's red face. She nodded and then relaxed. "Accidents happen. Sit on the bench in the shade and I'll get the first-aid box. You need some salve on that burn too. You must be more careful, Peter."
"Well, ah, I should be getting home, I guess."
"Oh no, Riley," she said. "Please stay for a few minutes. We get few visitors and Peter never gets any. No-one comes to see him. Please stay and I will make us some tea."
"Well, I could stay for a few minutes, if you really want me to."
"We do. We do. Sit down, talk to Peter and I will be right back." She hurried away inside.
Peter grinned at him. "Oh boy! That went well. Thanks Riley. If you hadn't been here, Mother would be having canaries."
"You think? For a minute there, I thought she was going to kill me."
"No she wouldn't; she likes you. I hope you're hungry."
"Hungry? Not really. Why?"
"Mother said that she's making tea. You don't know what that means, but you soon will. She's a great cook, a really great cook and there's nothing she likes more than feeding people. Don't be too enthusiastic or you won't be eating for the next week. She'll stuff you so full you won't even want to look at food."
"No worries. I'm a pretty good eater you know."
"You'd better be!"
Peter's mother came back with a wooden box with a big red cross painted on the white lid.
"Sit still, Peter, while I look at you."
"Mother! Really, it's not that bad. I've already washed it in the sea."
"That is good. Sea water is good for cuts and burns. Good thinking, Son."
"It wasn't my idea. Riley told me to do it."
"Thank you, Riley. I knew that you were a good boy. Still, can't be too careful." She opened the box, took out a bottle of clear liquid and some cotton buds and proceeded to swab Peter's back. "Stop flinching. Of course it stings a little, it is disinfectant. Better a little pain now than a lot later. There now, all done."
She gently patted his skin dry and put two flesh-coloured patches on him.
"That's done. Now you need some salve for the sunburn. Riley, would you like to rub the lotion on Peter's back while I get the tea ready?"
"Sure. I can do that." Riley agreed eagerly and he moved around to the back of the bench.
She handed a tube of lotion and then headed back inside the house.
"Umm. How do we go about this?"
"Just blob some on my shoulders, and then spread it around with your fingers. Cover all the red bits, but please be gentle. It's a bit sensitive now. Feels like I'm burning up."
"I'll be careful. I wouldn't want to hurt you." He poured some on and started working it around.
Riley was enjoying this. Really enjoying this. He rubbed his greasy fingers around on this beautiful boy's back. His back was firm and full-fleshed, smooth, hairless and perfect. There wasn't a blemish anywhere, not even a freckle.
The only flaws on Peter's back were the ones that he had caused. He felt stink about that. It was like he'd damaged a work of art, a perfect work of art.
He could feel the heat radiating from the sunburn. It was a warm day, but Peter felt hot. Riley felt hot too, but in a different way, he was getting excited. It was a good thing that it was Peter's back that was burnt and not his front. If he was standing around the front rubbing lotion on, the boy would have a big, stiff, dick in his face. Well, a reasonable-sized dick, but it was hard, really hard. His tight jeans wouldn't have left much to the imagination.
Riley had 'known' a few boys. Not a lot, but a few, but he'd never been with any boy who he wanted as much as this one. He was gorgeous and so, so, sexy. It was like he was blond all over. Even if his hair was covered, you'd know it was blond from his fair, perfect skin. It was all a very light pink/tan colour, except for the sunburn and except for his rosy-red cheeks, which coloured his face nicely.
The boy was beautiful. That was the only word for him - beautiful. Why on earth didn't he have any friends? Someone who looked like this should be way popular.
Peter's mother came back with a stack of round cake-tins. She spread them out on the picnic table, taking the lids off and putting the tins on top of them.
"I should have asked you, Riley. Do you want tea? We have herbal teas if you prefer. Or, if you want a cold drink, there's grape-juice and apple cider. Both are home-made, of course."
"Tea is fine thanks. I don't mind a cup of tea for a change sometimes."
"A change? What do you usually drink?"
"I usually have coke, or coffee, but tea is okay."
"That is good then. We don't have coke or coffee. Have you seen the price of them? Peter, put your shirt on, and stay out of the sun." She went back inside.
"Just as well you didn't say beer," Peter grinned. "You'd have been out of here!"
"You don't have beer then?"
"Not likely. Mother hates beer. My father has one sometimes, but she does not approve."
Peter shrugged into his shirt. 'Damm,' Riley thought. It made sense for him to cover up, but it was a shame to hide all that fine flesh.
Peter caught him looking at him and he grinned again. "Sorry, Riley. The strip-show is over for today."
"Bugger," Riley grinned back. "You've got a great body, Peter. You're a fine-looking guy.
"You think so? You're not so bad yourself - pretty good really." His eyes flicked down to Riley's still-hard dick and up at his eyes again. He blushed a little.
"I'm so glad to have met you, Riley."
"So am I, that'd be good. Very good. But, we probably won't be friends for long," Peter spoke low, looked down and blushed.
"Huh? Not for long? Why not?" Riley was puzzled. He liked this kid and he was fairly sure that Peter liked him too. Why shouldn't they be friends?
Mrs. de Groot returned, pushing a laden tea-trolley, and Riley scrambled to sit down before he was embarrassed. He was pretty sure that Peter knew what state he was in, but he did NOT want the mother knowing.
"I made some sandwiches," she announced needlessly as she put the platter on the table before the boys. "Tomato sandwiches on the left, sea-cress on the right."
"Sea-cress?" Riley asked.
"It's a sort of sea weed," Peter grinned. "Try one, they're good."
"Well, maybe one. I don't much like sea food, but thanks."
He took one of the small sandwiches, bit into it, and then had a second bite. He sat chewing thoughtfully.
"Well?" said Peter. "What do you think?"
"It's good, very good. In fact, it's great. It tastes a bit like salty lettuce, I like it. Nice bread too, is this store-bought?"
"No," she beamed proudly. "It is home-made. Everything you see here is home-made or home-grown. I like to make good healthy food. Have another sandwich. Eat up, Peter."
'I'd like to eat up Peter too,' Riley thought and grinned.
Peter grinned back at him. He couldn't tell what he was thinking, could he? He tried a tomato sandwich.
Over the next hour or so, they chatted as they sampled all sorts of delicacies. Remembering Peter's warning, Riley tried not to be too enthusiastic in his praises, but this was great food. The old lady was delighted to be told so.
Finally, he declared that he couldn't eat another bite. He thanked her, profusely, and said that he had to be getting home. His mother might be starting to worry. He didn't have his cell with him and nobody knew where he was. He'd only intended to wander across to the beach for a minute or two.
On his mother's prompting, Peter said that he would walk back with him. Riley told him that he didn't have to, it wasn't far and he couldn't get lost, but he insisted and Riley was pleased really. At least they'd get a couple of minutes alone together.
They walked back to the café, chatting easily. Arriving there, Riley told him to come in for a minute. They went through to the kitchen, he introduced Peter to his mother, and then they went out of the back door and Riley led the way up the stairs on the cliff-face out there.
At the top, they came out on to the large, wooden deck at the back of Riley's new house.
"Wow. This is great." Peter stopped and admired the view down over the roof-tops, across the street and out to the ocean.
"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Riley agreed. "But I bet it gets bloody windy on a stormy night though."
"It probably will, but we don't get many of those. You'll just have to stay inside then."
"We will, for sure. Come inside now; come and see my room.
Man, that was great food! I ate too much. It's a wonder that you're not as big as a house when your mum feeds you like that."
"I control myself. We don't do that very often. We don't get many visitors."
"I don't see why not. If people knew that they'd get fed like that, you'd never get rid of them."
"Probably just as well that they don't know then."
They went through the ranch-slider door, into the lounge.
"You don't lock the door?"
"There's no need to. The only way up here is through the café."
"Did you carry all of your furniture up those stairs?"
"No," Riley laughed. "There's another door at the front of the house. That one is locked."
"Oh. Of course it is. Very nice room."
"Yeah. It's not bad. It's a bit small for a lounge though. That's probably why they built the big deck outside."
"It could be. That would be a great place for a party."
"If we have parties, yeah. My room is through here."
He led the way into the side-room. Riley's room was nearly as big as the lounge and it was also at the back of the house. It had its own ranch-slider leading out to the deck.
"Very nice," Peter enthused. You've got your own view too."
"Yeah. Only trouble is, it faces east so it'll catch the morning sun. Mum says that that will help to wake me early in the mornings."
"And that's a good thing?"
"No, it's not! I'll paint the window black if it does."
"That would work," Peter laughed. "But then you'd lose your view. This is great."
He walked across and stood looking out of the window. Riley stood behind him admiring the view - the view of the boy that is, not the window. He was not ugly himself, he knew that, he had eyes. Besides, people had told him that he was nice to look at, usually when they wanted something. However, he was not in the same class as this boy.
With his platinum-blond hair, pink skin and laughing eyes, Peter was one very good-looking boy. He was very attractive - sexually attractive, like ripe fruit ready for the plucking. Riley wouldn't mind doing the plucking.
He stood up close behind Peter, by the window. He put his head over his shoulder and pressed up against his back, moulding their bodies together. His hands slid around the boy's slender waist and rested on the front of his shorts. His crotch pressed against the high, round and firm globes of the bubble-butt.
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