Magic Weekend
by N Fourbois
It's not very often that you wish you had people in front of you in a queue, but this was one of those exceptions. For two behind me in the lunch queue in the school cafeteria was Tim Dale. Tim and I went back over five years to Year Seven.
"In your dreams," says a little voice in my head just by my left ear. Fine, I'll rephrase that. In my own mind my interest in Tim went back all that time. "Lust," piped up that little voice in head.
"I beg you your pardon?" I said out loud and everyone in the immediate vicinity stared at me wondering who I was talking to. I blushed and said "Nothing. Just talking to myself."
"First sign of madness," said one wit.
"Hairs on the palms of your hands is the second sign," added another. I checked my palms. Nothing there. Thank goodness for that.
"Looking for them is the third sign," called out another. I blushed even deeper.
"Piss off," I said in a loud whisper. Nothing like a little wit and repartee to crush those buggers.
"And that was nothing like a little wit and repartee," said the little voice inside my left ear.
"You can piss off as well," I said inside my head.
"My! We are eloquent today," came the silent reply. I conceded defeat on that situation. "Anyway, to return to our sheep," continued my inner self. "Lust! Lust is the word you want, not interest. It's lust you've felt for Tim Dale, ever since your balls dropped." 'It goes back a lot further than that,' I thought. 'Even before his balls dropped.' I looked over my shoulder to check whether that smiling face which could have such an effect on my loins was still there.
"NEXT, PLEASE," shouted one of the dinner ladies. "Wake up, deary. You're not out with your girlfriend now, all moony faced."
'How disgusting,' I thought. "I'll take the burger and chips, please." 'So much for some government guru trying to tell us what to eat and what not to eat. I think with a twenty-eight inch waist and no zits I can allow myself that luxury.'
"Don't forget your tray, luv." Of course I had. I'll never understand why they call them dinner ladies. They're common as muck some of them. I'm sure they eye us up for the bulge in our trousers.
"That's what you do," came the voice by my left ear again.
"That's different. I'm a boy," I mentally replied.
"Ha ha,"laughed my inner ear. "So that makes it all right, gay boy?"
"No, what I mean is that I'm a boy. I'm the same age. I don't go round staring at their bums and tits."
"Do get a move on, Hawkins. You're holding up the whole queue daydreaming." That was the duty master.
I spent some minutes selecting my cutlery hoping Tim and his mate Tom Gray would overtake me and I could go and sit down at their table, but then I noticed the duty master with his beady eye on me. I found an empty table in the hope that Tim and Tom might join me. No luck. They didn't even deliberately ignore me. They were just concerned with their own business. Alone and with no one to talk to my mind ruminated over the years since I'd joined that school.
I was lucky enough enough – at least I thought so – to attend the only boys' school in the borough education authority's area. One boys' school, one girls' school and all the rest were mixed. Let's clear the decks now on another matter. As my inner ear or conscience gave away earlier, I'm gay. I like being gay. It's no secret, but I act straight and twenty-four hours after being outed earlier in my school career, it suddenly become passé because one of my form mates at the age of fourteen had got his girlfriend pregnant. Practise safe sex, say I. Do another boy. Much more fun. I suppose I discovered this soon after coming to the school. Previously I had attended a small primary school where we never changed for games or PE. So it was a bit of a culture shock when prior to coming here my parents received a list of uniform and sports kit and when we had PE or games we were expected to change and have a shower afterwards. And at the age of eleven soon to be twelve I discovered that despite rumours, little boys were not all the same and I got interested. As we entered puberty, for me at least and I'm pretty certain for one or two others, it got even more interesting. Still I'm straying from the point. The point is that I discovered this boy called Tim Dale. Tim had the lot. He was good-looking with his clothes on. With his clothes off he was fascinating and, let's face it, I wasn't the only one that went round checking out the other guys in the showers and the changing room. The extroverts even encouraged it.
Again, revenons à nos moutons. Dressed Tim was consummately handsome with his straight black hair and sparkling blue eyes, straight teeth, instant smile. Undressed, well what shall I say? Everything was in good proportion and after his adolescent growth spurt the proportions changed and became excellent. He was throughout a good form mate and team mate, sociable and pleasant company, but sexually I could never get near him. I assume he's str8, but I couldn't guarantee it. I just didn't know. What I do know now, thanks to my inner ear, he was and has remained an object of my lust. Other boys had also been objects of my lust. One by one my lust was conquered, either by fulfilling my carnal desires with them, or by admitting to myself that they were so irretrievably lost to the cause of heterosexuality that I would get more joy and satisfaction from hitting my head against a brick wall. Here he was and after five years I was no closer to getting my hand inside his Y-fronts; he always immaculately dressed, whether in school uniform, sports kit or casual clothes, never a speck on him. I don't mind betting that he never even stains his bed sheets when he jerks off and I'd like to be there to check that one out, too. For the moment he was, however, unconquerable, incorruptible. Still, they called Robespierre l'Incorruptible and the guillotine got him in the end. Tom Gray on the other hand was a steady type, Tim's best mate yes, but he was also known to have girlfriends. I'd checked him out, as I'd done with everyone in my year, and many others, but I felt no great yearning in that direction.
I was snatched from my daydream by a couple of friends from my English set who came and joined me and we simply talked about television, sport, music. Just a normal sort of lunchtime conversation. After lunch we went off to our lessons. As the last period was study, I got on and did as much as my homework as possible. The bell went for the end of afternoon school. I packed my belongings away, wandered off to the bike sheds, climbed onto my bike and cycled off home, all the while thinking of my lunchtime obsession.
Just as I reached the gate of our house I saw an old lady stumble and fall. I immediately got off and propped my bike up against the wall so that I could help her up. She assured me that she wasn't hurt when I offered to call an ambulance, but she was visibly shaken. Meanwhile my mother had seen what had happened and came out. We invited her in and gave her a cup of tea. Mother said my father would be home in a few of minutes and perhaps she might like us to take her home in the car. She refused the offer saying that she only lived round the corner and after a cup of tea would be strong enough to walk home. My mother gave me an old fashioned look for although we had lived in that neighbourhood for years, neither of us had seen her before.
I stayed with her in the sitting room talking while my mother got on in the kitchen preparing the dinner. I told her I would carry her bags for her, but she said that wouldn't be necessary. She introduced herself as Mrs Henbane. Then she asked me about myself, about school and what I did in my spare time. Eventually she said
"Terrence, there's something troubling you, isn't there?" I was shocked, to say the least, and, as my face completely gave away what I was thinking, I couldn't deny it. "Would you like to tell me what it is?"
"No, it's all right," I answered. "I couldn't. Really."
"Shall I tell you then?" I looked at her in disbelief, but nodded. "To begin with, you're homosexual, aren't you? Gay, I believe you young people call it these days?" I was still so dumbfounded that I could only nod. I sat there eyes and mouth wide open, listening. "And there's a boy at school that you find... what shall I say?... rather attractive and you want to get er... closer to him?"
"How do you know all this, Mrs Henbane?"
"You see, Terrence, I'm a witch." I automatically moved along the settee away from her. "There's no need to be frightened. I'm what's called a white witch. We work for good, not evil. Now because you have been so kind to me I'm going to grant you your wish." I could only make inarticulate noises, post-adolescent grunts, I suppose. "When do you want this to happen?" Still not quite believing what was going on and what was being promised I stuttered
"It's just over a week till half term. The first weekend of half term would be fine."
"That'll be a good time. Your wish will be granted and this is how it's going to happen..." Mrs Henbane explained the details. "Terrence, you'll know when it's happening because there will be a very close clap of thunder and that'll be the signal." How corny, I thought ungraciously. "Now, dear boy, I must be going. Say thank you to your dear mother for the tea. I won't trouble her. I know she's busy and that was kind of you to offer to carry my shopping, but I'll manage."
"I'll show you out, Mrs Henbane." I accompanied her to the door and out to the garden gate. In the meantime it had grown dark. I watched her walk as far as the first street lamp to make sure she was indeed fit enough to walk and then she literally disappeared into the gloom.
Shivering from the damp cold of the evening I returned indoors and went straight to the kitchen.
"Mum, Mrs Henbane asked me to thank you for the tea. She feels much better and thought she could make it home safely without disturbing us anymore."
"Are you all right, Terrence? You look a bit shaken."
"I'm okay, Mum, but you're right. I do feel a bit queer. What did you think of Mrs Henbane?"
"Well, nothing really. She might feel a bit of shock from the fall later on. I wish she'd let us take her home in the car. I'd be much happier."
"It's just, Mum, that she said she was a witch and when I watched her walking down the street, she really did seem to disappear into the darkness."
"Come on, Terrence, you're just imagining things." I had no intention of mentioning the other parts of our conversation. I tried to put it out of my mind, especially the bit about changing places with Tom Gray.
I really did put it all out of my mind and buried myself in my schoolwork. Except... when I was at school in our free time this lust thing did take over and I tried to get as close to Tim as possible. He wore his dark grey school trousers provocatively. By that I mean they hung well on him, slightly loose, but because of this slim frame you easily saw the outline of his pert little buttocks and his outstanding packet. In the changing room I made sure I got changed near him and made sidelong glances at his sixpack, a natural one as far as I could make out for I knew he didn't work out. He didn't have to. Not an ounce of fat on him, the only other bulges were muscle and sinew. I had to be careful changing because 'down below' was misbehaving.
On the Wednesday before half term I had a stroke of luck. Tom Gray was obviously away and I took advantage of that to bump into Tim in the lunch queue. I was on top of things then and we sat down together at the same table and got chatting. Somehow we got on to girlfriends, not a favourite topic of mine, and Tim complained that he was getting fed up with all these gooey eyed Year 10 girls that mooned round him and tried to chat him up.
"Not something I have to worry about," I said candidly. "I've just got boyfriend trouble."
"What's that?" asked Tim.
"I can't get one..."
"If I think of someone, I'll point him in your direction," said Tim half jokingly. There was no embarrassment between us.
"Well, there is one in the school, my age as well, I'd like to get my hands on..."
"Well, I'm not available," said Tim and laughed out loud. I blushed. "Only joking," he said.
"What are you doing over half term, Tim?"
"Not a lot. My father's away at a conference and Mum's got to go and help her sister who's broken her ankle and she's taking my sister Emma with her. So it's home alone. Well, not quite because Tom's coming for a sleep over, that's if he gets over this bug thing he's caught. We've done it before and so this time we're being 'trusted' to do it on our own. Plenty of microwave meals stocked up in the freezer. What about you?"
"Nothing much. Jerking off in front of a computer screen I expect." That wasn't far from the truth with the state of my love life. The first bell rang and we cleared our stuff away. Where had that lunchtime gone?
The following day Tom Gray was back, but surprise, surprise, I was allowed to make up a threesome at lunch. We talked about this and that, but certainly not about the other.
"Terrence," said Tom "can I ask you a big favour? Can I borrow your history notes from yesterday so that I can catch up?"
"Sure," I said. "I'll fetch them when we've finished here." After we'd cleared our stuff away I took Tom off to my locker and handed him my history file. "I shan't need it any more before half term."
Friday before half term came along. I looked out of the window. The afternoon was growing darker by the minute. As soon as we were dismissed, I dashed out of the classroom, organised all my things from my locker and ran off towards the bike sheds. I wanted to get home before the heavens opened. I pedalled as fast as I could towards home. The normal leisurely ten minute ride took seven and I managed to beat the rain. I was just coming out of the garage after putting my cycle away when who should appear on the drive but Tom.
"Hey, Terrence, I missed you at school. I just wanted to give you your notes back safely before the holidays. Thanks a lot. I can see why you're so good at history now."
"S'okay. No worri..." Before I could finish there was a bright flash of lightening immediately followed by a clap of thunder so loud it made me jump out of my skin. And then I remembered Mrs Henbane. It was odd. I had literally jumped out of my skin and so had Tom and there I was holding his bike, dressed in his clothes. It was odd for I was still me although my appearance had changed, and yet I was Tom in so far as I knew what he had to do next, what he had been doing and what he was going to do later.
"Cheers, Terrence," I said. "I want to get home before this rain starts,"and I watched Tom take a key out of his pocket and unlock my front door. I cycled hell for leather and got to his home in five minutes just as big spatters of rain started to land on the footpath.
"Hi, Mum."
"Hi, Tom, how are you feeling today?"
"Fine, thanks."
"That was a very nasty bug you caught and they say you get over it for a couple of days and then it comes back with a vengeance. If you feel ill at Tim's you're to telephone us immediately and we'll bring you home. Mind you, I'd be happier if Tim came over and stayed here."
"We'll be okay."
"Well, if you say so. Go and get out of that school uniform and I'll run you over to Tim's."
A quick shower and change. I was stripping off in 'my' bedroom when OMG! shock! horror! I saw myself in the mirror. It was not because I was wearing boxers which I never do during the day anyway; it was when I took them off. Now if you'd asked me the question in a general knowledge quiz, in the round 'whose dick is this?', I'd have known the answer straightaway, but apart from that I gave it no thought. As I stepped out of my underpants I saw that I was cut!... circumcised!... without a foreskin! I soon recovered and became intrigued. I'd often wondered what it would be like to be cut. How do you wank? Doesn't it hurt when your glans chafes against your underclothes? After a lifetime of being a cavalier I had suddenly become a roundhead. No time to worry about that now and of course I couldn't talk to anyone about it, either. I quickly got showered and dressed in a tee shirt and jogpants. I rummaged through Tom's drawers to see if he had a pair of briefs or a slip. No luck.
"I'm ready, Mum," I shouted down the stairs.
It normally took ten minutes to drive over to Tim's, but with the heavy rain which slowed the traffic it took twenty. Tim saw us draw up and was standing by the front door waiting as I made a grab for my overnight bag, said goodbye to Mrs Gray (Should I kiss her goodbye or not?) and ran into Tim's arms giving him a great big hug. Even if Tom never gave him a hug, compared with what Mrs Henbane had promised me for this weekend, nothing short of breaking and entering, a hug was piffling.
We had decided, so the Tom side of my brain reminded me, to stay in and chill out on Friday evening. The demands of school always made you absolutely knackered by the beginning of the holidays and we just wanted to rest up. What the Terrence side of my brain didn't know and the Tom side hadn't told me was that the Dales lived in an old house which had a cellar and that they'd converted the cellar not only into a utility room, but also into a family entertainment room with a huge wide screen television, DVD and video cassette players, CD and a surround sound system. The room was plushly carpeted and the furniture consisted of a deep settee in front of the screen and matching armchairs. After we'd eaten Tim took me down there and left me to look through the rack of DVDs while he went and changed into something more comfortable. I noticed that Jurassic Park was there, for although it had been out for some time now it was one of those films that I had never managed to sit through in its entirety. I'd either come late and missed the beginning or having watched the beginning fell asleep in front of it and missed the end. Besides I did like the music.
When Tim finally came back I saw immediately that he'd done more than just get changed. His body smelt wonderful. He had washed his hair and obviously blow dried it with a hair dryer and fluffed it all up in a way he never wore it at school.
"Love the blow job, Tim," I blurted out without choosing my words very well.
"I suppose you would, but what do think about my hair?"he replied with a knowing smile, tartily frizzing it up. 'Is this what really goes on between Tim and Tom,' I wondered. 'I don't believe it.' "What have you chosen?"
"Jurassic Park," I said. "I see you've got Casablanca as well. What about The Great Escape?" I asked in jest.
"We've given that a miss. You can always see it on telly during bank holidays if you're that desperate."
In addition he was wearing a pair of light cotton 'shorts' that came just below his knees and a tanktop. The ensemble was slightly spoilt by the unsightly bulge in his shorts, presumably made by a handkerchief in his pocket. The other bulge was far more than sightly and I felt myself hardening just from looking at him. That in itself was a strange sensation as the newly acquired cut cock moved around comparatively unrestricted inside my unaccustomed boxers.
The film started as we sat together on the sofa. Imagine my surprise when Tim stretched his arm out along the back of the sofa and inched it down and over my shoulders. Had Mrs Henbane worked her magic on him as well? After all the Terrence side of me was the gayboy. As far as we at school knew, Tim and Tom were simply very, very str8 best mates. As I said, the Terrence side of me was the one with the experience and so I took no time at all putting my arm round Tim and pulling him in to me. It was only a matter of minutes before we were having our first kiss. I put myself in the driving seat and slowly parted his lips with my tongue. I suddenly felt him 'give', for want of a better word, and I knew he was mine. The words 'breaking and entering' passed through my mind. I had broken this teenage god, but I wouldn't enter that night. There was too much work to be done first and I was relying on Mrs Henbane's magic to make him ask for it. I was content to be sitting there, probing his tongue with mine, first stroking the inside of his thigh with my left hand, gradually moving it up between his legs until I could feel his pulsing bulge and gently tease out the outline of his dick from his bollocks with my fingertips as it fought to free itself from the restrictions of his undergarments. Five or six years' dreams were coming true. We were oblivious to what was happening on the television screen, lost in our own world of feeling and probing, of getting to know one another when Tim suddenly broke of the kiss and said
"Stop, Tom, please," but it was too late and the re-arranged bulge between his legs was convulsed in spasms as Tim involuntarily released his love juices and I could feel the warm damp stickiness seeping through those light cotton shorts.
As we both drew in deep breaths we realised that everything had gone silent and it dawned upon me that yet again I had missed out on watching Jurassic Park in its entirety. I just hauled Tim on top of me and kissed him even deeper.
Eventually we decided it was time to go to bed. I was sharing Tim's room. He had a large single bed, or was it a small double? Another bed had been put in the room for me. Tim decide to go for another shower to clean himself up after our first experience. Meanwhile I stripped off and decided, come what may, I was going to sleep naked even if I was in someone else's home. Again curiosity grabbed me as I looked at my newly acquired circumcision in the dressing table mirror. 'Not bad,' I thought 'perhaps a little longer than my dick even when measured to the tip of the foreskin, but mine's chunkier. I experimented by touching it all over and soon grew a stiffy. It was odd having nothing to pull backwards and forwards. The glans wasn't sensitive like mine. There are times when I can't even bear to touch it, but now it was easy. I began to rub it, but found that I was rubbing the main part, but lower down. I soon stopped because although I honestly didn't know what the night held in store, I didn't want to spoil it by performing a solo.
"Like it," said Tim as he returned from the shower, his towel slung over his shoulder. "Can you do me a favour, please, Tom? Another blowjob?"
"We haven't had the first one yet."
"No, you randy little git. I mean my hair," he replied pulling his hair dryer out of one of the drawers. I readily obliged, but how I didn't come on the spot just from running my fingers through his hair, I'll never know.
I got to sleep remarkably quickly, but woke up in the middle of the night feeling cold and with an enormous throbbing boner. I looked at my watch – ten past three. I had to take the pressure off my bladder and so I slipped off to the bathroom. When I came back, I thought 'It's now or never.' I turned back the duvet on Tim's bed and slipped in beside him.
"Is that you, Tom?" he groaned halfway between sleeping and waking.
"It had better be or you've got burglars," but it wasn't the time for quips. As he felt my chilled body next to him, he woke up fully, spooned his naked body against my back and started kissing my neck and stroking one of my nipples. That was just too much. I took his warm hand and placed it on my balls. I still missed my foreskin, but the pleasure that flowed through my body was greater than anything I could ever do for myself. After shooting my load I fell asleep in Tim's arms.
It was light when we woke again. This time the position was reversed with Tim's back spooned into me.
"Are you ready?" I asked him.
"I've been ready for ages," he replied. "Just waiting for you to wake up." I kissed the back of his neck and ran my free hand over his body. His nipples were erect. I enjoyed outlining his sixpack with the tips of my fingers. I stroked my fingers through his pubic hair.
"How does that feel, Tim, my love?"
"Lower, lower," he entreated me.
"How does that feel, Tim, my love?"I repeated in a deeper tone of voice. I felt his heel kick my shin.
"Hold my balls, you fool," he giggled. As I cupped my hand round his scrotum I found they more than filled it and the weight was greater than anything I had felt before in my experience as Terrence. Tim breathed out sighs of great satisfaction. How long I played with his bollocks I do not know, but suddenly he said
"I need more." I was about to start pulling his foreskin back and forth when he said "Not that. Suck my dick."
"I can't in this position. Wait a moment." We parted and I organised him into the sixty-nine position. "Now you can suck me at the same time."
It was gone ten when we woke again. The house was warm from the central heating and we both put on shorts and went downstairs to the kitchen. Tim showed off by frying eggs, bacon, sausages and mushrooms for breakfast. All the time, while pretending to look at the newspaper, I couldn't take my eyes off his shorts. If he was turned away it was the curve of his neat little buttocks that took my attention; if he was turned towards me it was the way his loose equipment danced in his shorts, and the thought of having had that inside my mouth made me harden up.
Suddenly he gave a shout of "Ouch!"
"What's the trouble, my darling?" I said trying to swallow excess saliva at the same time.
"It's okay. I forgot the first rule of cooking breakfast. Put a top on. The fat can spatter. Look after this a minute." I could hear him running upstairs and then down again and he appeared with two tops in his hands. They were the ones we had worn the day before and to this day I don't know whether he did it on purpose or not, but he handed me his while putting on mine. I was overcome by the perfume of his body and as I stood up, my boner slipped out of my shorts.
"I'll take that as a compliment," said Tim drily.
We sat a long time over breakfast. Brunch would have been a better word.
"What do you want to do today?" Tim asked.
"Let's hang out in town for a bit. I need to do some shopping. Then what about tenpin bowling?"
"That's cool by me. Have you seen in the local paper they've opened a gay club. Do you fancy giving it a go?"
"What's it called?"
"Sequins."
"Don't you have to be a member?"
"Pay for it on the door."
"What do they do there?"
"Dance, drink, chat, cruise, watch the scene, I suppose."
"Okay, we'll give it a whirl."
We caught the bus into town. The one thing I had to do was buy some underpants. I couldn't stand the bouncy bouncy effect a day longer, especially as I just had to smell Tim, or see him in a certain way or have him touch me to get an instant boner. We popped into one of the department stores. Luckily I had a debit card with me and I saw these briefs with a horizontal fly. Another instant boner, but they looked interesting and I bought a black and a white pair of Hom Ho1s.
"What's got into you, Tom? Once upon a time you swore you never wear anything else but boxers. They were the coolest thing on this planet."
"You."
"Eh?"
"You, you've got into me."
"Well, not yet, but I am working on it."
"Something's happened to me. I keep on getting these stiffies because of you. I need to control them."
"I'll take that as yet another compliment then," said Tim flashing his eyes at me. I wanted to hug and kiss him right there and then, but we were in the High Street which was crowded since it was a Saturday, and I also noticed out of the corner of my eye a little posse of Year 9 kids from our school hanging about by the fountain. We made our way off to the tenpin bowling, played one session, had something to eat and disappeared off home.
Back at Tim's we just chilled out on his bed together. No serious sex, just a little petting and a little falling asleep. Sequins didn't open till nine. We were stuck for transport. Cycling into town wasn't exactly cool. Neither was the bus, but we had no choice and it meant we only had until eleven. We both dressed in 501s and tanktops under a jacket. Tim looked as if his Levi's were bespoke tailored for him as the soft, well washed denim hugged his body. It was only seconds before the size of his packet was overtaken by the size of mine. We reached the club at about ten to nine and a queue had already formed. It was a picture to see who was there, couples and singles. Eventually the queue started to move forward under the beady eyes of two huge black bouncers. As we got to the head of the queue they stood either side of us.
"Proof of age, gentlemen." I looked at Tim. He looked at me. "We don't let teeny boppers in here. There's alcohol on sale. How old are you?" By now we both felt thoroughly intimidated, not only by the bouncers, but by the crowd behind impatient to get in.
"Eighteen," lied Tim.
"Proof?"
"We haven't any," I stammered.
"No proof, no entry. Good night, gentlemen." There was nothing more to say, except the couple behind us, both dressed in lycra body suits yelled out
"Good night, cuties," as they waved their ID and pouted at us.
Frustrated we dragged our feet as we made our way towards the bus stop, just to see our bus pulling away from the stop. Another hour until the next one.
"We may as well walk home," said Tim.
"I'll have your arse for that," I said grumpily. Tim stopped, grasped my shoulders turning me towards him and looking me straight in the face with the most seductive of smiles said in a sexy voice
"You know, Tom, I think you probably will." He kissed me on the lips before I could give a reply. My bad mood immediately melted away.
Back at Tim's house we went down into the basement. He put on a CD of smoochy music and we danced together. After that we went up to the kitchen, made a snack and watched Casablanca, entwined in each other's arms. When it ended, Tim said to me
"I've got to be up in good time tomorrow 'cause I'm singing in the choir at church. You can come along if you want or stay in bed." Thinking as Terrence dressed up as Tom I knew this weekend might be the only opportunity I would have to get close to Tim. I would go to church with him. Meanwhile there was a promise to be fulfilled. We went upstairs and showered separately. While Tim was still in the bathroom I took the tube of K-Y gel out of my overnight bag, made sure it was within easy reach and climbed naked under the duvet on Tim's bed. As I suspected, Tim was still a virgin. I took everything very slowly, stealing his cherry with great satisfaction to both of us.
"Tomorrow I want you inside me, Tim." We kissed good night and he put the light out.
Next morning we were woken by the alarm clock. We got up and showered, this time together. It didn't save any time, but it did save some water. I tried to dress as best I could for church. I hadn't come prepared, but I was sure the good Lord would accept me in jeans and a sweater. During the service I could not keep my eyes off the youngest bass in the choir, his beauty enhanced by the angelic look lent by the scarlet cassock and the white surplice. I was grateful for the support given by new briefs. The only embarrassing thing was the number of people who said good morning to me by name and I hadn't the slightest idea who they were. In the afternoon we went out for a cycle ride to get some exercise and make the most of the winter sun. I soon got used to riding Emma's bike. Sunday evening was very much like the one before, but without the embarrassing disaster. After a Sunday dinner courtesy of the microwave we went down into the cellar, watched another DVD, danced together and then decided on an early night. Tim made good his promise to me and for what I guessed was a first timer made a very good job of it. Monday morning, knowing that I had to make my way home, we snogged and that ended up with two blowjobs, then we showered and dressed. While Tim was in the bathroom, a previous thought came back to me. I had this uncontrollable urge to inspect the bed linen. I'd been right. Despite all our activity of the past three days there was not a single stain on the bedsheet.
After breakfast I gathered all my things together, thanked Tim for an excellent weekend, gave him a long and deep throated kiss and made my way to the front door. On the doorstep we had another hug and I made my way to the bus stop. When I arrived home, as Terrence Hawkins still in the guise of Tom Gray, I certainly could not use my front door key, but had the presence of mind to ring the doorbell.
"Hallo, Mrs Hawkins," I said to my own mother.
"Hallo, Tom. Have you come to see Terrence?"
"Yes, I've got some books in here I said I'd lend him for half term."
"Well, come in, dear. He hasn't been at all well this weekend. Some sort of bug. He's been delirious at times, shouting out in his sleep for you and Tim. He doesn't remember a thing about it. Still, his temperature's normal today and he says he's feeling better." I had a bit of a conscience. "He's in there," said Mrs Hawkins showing me into the front room. "I'll go and make you a drink. Cocoa or something cool?"
"Cocoa will do fine, Mrs Hawkins. I'm cool enough already."
"Who says?" came a voice from the front room. As I went in, Tom in the guise of me got up and we hugged. As we hugged I felt something drain out of me into Tom. It seemed to last minutes, but could only have been seconds as Mum came back and said "Terrence, would you like a drink as well?"
"A cold one, please, Mum," I said. I looked down at myself to make sure I was Terrence once more, then checked that Tom was Tom. I wonder what he'll think when he finds he's wearing briefs and not boxers, I mused.
We chatted for about a quarter of an hour about the weekend. I couldn't say too much about mine. Tom said he'd better go, picked up his overnight bag and I showed him to the front door. I didn't dare hug him again. Just as he was leaving, the postman arrived and handed me the mail. Among the letters was a white envelope addressed to me. Inside was a picture postcard of a beech wood and on the back was the simple message: «Dear Terrence, I hope you spent an enjoyable weekend. Best wishes, Mrs Henbane» I put it inside one of the books Tom had left and went into the kitchen to give the rest of the letters to Mum.
"You know, it's silly, but I feel completely recovered, better than I've felt for ages." I didn't tell her how good it was to have my foreskin back.
"Good, dear, but I still think you'd better rest for today." That was no difficulty. I had a lot to think about.
The following Monday it was back to school. I was in the queue for lunch when I heard a voice from behind me.
"Hey, Terrence." It was Tim and Tom. "Come and sit with us for lunch. We've got something to tell you." As I got to the head of the queue I was waiting for a "NEXT PLEASE! Wake up deary," but there was a new dinner lady working there. She could only have been in her late teens.
"I'll have burger and chips, please," I said keeping up my campaign of not being bullied into what I eat and don't eat by a load of old farts in London. I fetched some cutlery and found a spare table. Tim and Tom soon joined me.
"Promise you can keep a secret, Terrence?" said Tom in a conspiratorial tone. I nodded. Tim continued.
"We want to keep this quiet, but we know that you at least will understand and won't go ballistic. Over half term Tom and I have become an item."
"Boyfriend and boyfriend," whispered Tom.
"Congratulations," I said genuinely, but feigning surprise. "Then you won't have noticed that neat little blonde girl with the blue eyes who's serving behind the counter?"
"God!" said Tim.
"Yeuk!" said Tom. They both had a look of extreme disgust on their faces. "There are times you can be pretty damn gross, Terrence Hawkins."
Dear Reader. It is not often that I feel moved to write an addendum to one of my stories. In Magic Weekend I have tried to take a sidestep from my other school tales. It allows me first to explore the impossibility of an uncut boy experiencing the phenomenon of being circumcised and then finish up with his foreskin intact. The second impossibility was the unlikely transfer of sexuality between Terrence and Tom. My source Tim and Tom were great buddies and I have only thinly disguised them, although whether Tom actually was cut I do not know. Here I simply ask you to consider what the consequences for Tim and Tom's relationship would have been if Tom had returned to Tim after the weekend completely str8. By the way, those Hom Ho1 briefs never appeared on Tom's bank statement. Fiction and magic are marvellous things. I look forward to reading your comments and questions in an e-mail.
© N Fourbois 2005
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