Johnny Come Home
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 5
'I'm going early mum.' Johnny says, just to warn her that he won't be around for breakfast. 'He starts work early and I don't want to miss anything.' Was his perfect excuse.
Johnny had dressed the way Alex had suggested, the same way he had dressed that morning when he set off for Quintus Beer's cottage, the beautiful young teacher he had fallen for. He put on his white sporty shorts, the one's he wore playing for his school rugger team, along with his younger brother, Richard. Fearless Dick, as he was known to the others, admiring of the way he could knock down an opponent on the rugger pitch without any concerns for his own safety. John wouldn't do that. It might hurt. He looked himself in the mirror, the front view, and then he turns to check out the rear view. No, not right. Try Richard's Mothercare shorts, tight around his bottom but slightly flared; and on a bigger boy, rather showy, and no doubt designed by a man who admired a boy's figure, or a woman who loved boys too.
'Knees together Richard please. Everyone can see you like that.' Is what Anna had to tell him when he hadn't bothered with underpants that morning before going to the play park. Such lovable innocence. And Anna still liked to see him in his bath from time to time, lying out on his back. John loved to fiddle with himself in the bath. Once a boy had tricked him by asking him if spunk floated. He said it did whereupon the other boys laughed. It proved that he masturbated in the bath. John's face went pink because it was true. He did.
He opted for the stylish Mothercare number although he's really too old for them, a bit too mature, but they'll be good on the bike, his long legs pumping, head down and on his way.
In front of the mirror, one hand goes inside his pants to adjust matters. The whole process has excited him just enough to show now. Yes; perfect. He's ready. More than ready.
Alex had drawn a map for him, and shown him photos of his house so that he would recognize it when he got close. With no pockets in his shorts, he folds the half-sheet of paper and slips it inside the waistband with just enough visible so he can extract it easily enough should he need to consult. He slips his school oxblood jumper over his pale blue tee shirt. Now the American style basketball socks with the colour bands at the top, and he's done. Long socks, short shorts and plenty of pale brown leg in between makes for a rather pleasing result.
Richard, on his right side and facing the wall, hasn't woken. Good. That's saved another interrogation.
His well-worn trainers that were once a pristine white are by the back door, along with the others, Richard's in an even worse state than his. The back door won't creak when he opens it to let the cool autumn air in like the shed door does. Anna and Adrean sleep at the front and won't hear him leaving.
The shed door creaks, and inside is John's bike, tyres hard, all ready to go as the first spots of rain head earthwards.
He'd been this way before, towards the point where the River Nene becomes tidal. He knew where his turning was, just before the huge sluice gate. Another mile to go. Despite riding quite fast, the persistent rain had penetrated his jumper and tee shirt and he was beginning to feel the cold creeping in. He'd seen very few cars on the road. He expected a Saturday morning to be quiet and it was. The sky's mid-grey colour changed to a deep slate grey as the outline of the house appeared out of the mist. The perfectly level fields to his left and right looked brown and lifeless after the plough had done its autumn work turning over and burying the corn stubble, and about fifty seagulls searching for the easy pickings kindly provided by the plough were unmoved as Johnny goes by. He's close now. It's the first house in the row of four.
The small distant approaching figure could be seen from the window in the front bedroom making its way down the arrow straight lane towards the house, the driving rain on the glass obscuring the image somewhat.
'What are you looking at Sean?'
'Come and look at this.'
'What is it?'
'A boy on a bike, coming into our drive. Poor chap. He's totally drenched. He must be frozen dressed like that.'
'I know who that is. It will be Alex's school pal. He wants to see him working. He mentioned it last night. Sorry I forgot to tell you. What's he like?'
'Nice and wet poor soul. That was a heavy shower. He's wet through. You've missed him now. He must have gone round to Alex's. Hopefully he'll be awake by now. It's still quite early.'
'You mean he might still be in bed?'
'Probably. That'll be a nice surprise for him then.'
'For both of them.'
Indeed. What a nice way to be woken up, confronted by a young handsome boy, wet through and in urgent need of warming up. Not a bad problem for Alex to have I'd say.
Our Johnny hasn't brought anything with him, no spare clothes, just what Alex sees him standing in. Alex had heard the tentative knock on the well-house door. That what it is, the old well-house enlarged and converted for his grandparents to occupy in their dotage, the grandparents that never actually arrived, very sensibly opting to stay in France for the rest of their lives.
Alex is still in bed, not expecting John to arrive for another half hour. It's seven thirty and he was due at eight. Alex literally sprung out of his bed, a small double provided by his father, Sean, a compromise between a proper double and a single just in case a friend needed emergency accommodation for the night. Bigger beds are warmer than those too narrow singles.
He slept nude as always so he grabs his white gown from the hook. In his semi-wakeful state for the last half hour, he'd been thinking about this moment, and thinking back too, to those moments up in the school library where this adventure began, and the subtle little touches the two of them had managed thus far, the arrangements arrived at, and now the reality. He had got himself excited at the prospect of Johnny's arrival, unsurprisingly, and cast his mind back to the moment Quintus Beer had opened the door to him three years ago, almost to the day. Quintus had undressed him and put him in the bath, supervised his toiletry and then bathed him, all done in the most sensitive way possible, and in the manner of a mother caring for her child. He remembered how he had responded to Quintus's kindness, without any embarrassment for either of them. It all seemed so natural, and should have progressed to the bedroom and a glorious consummation. Well, that was Alex's theory at least, a proving of their love for one another. Alex's infatuation was real enough, just as the feeling of his friend's penis inside him was going to be. He knew what it would feel like, or thought he did. It would depend of course what Quintus was like, physically speaking.
He had dreamed of these moments.
How easy that was as the boys experimented with each other, giggling as they kissed, trying to couple. The boy claimed to have orgasmed too, but there was no way he could prove that. But this would be different with Quintus. Ok, it might hurt a bit, just to start with, but then the way would become easier, wider, smoother, better for both of them. And then the living proof of Quintus's love for him would erupt inside him as he wrapped his legs around his lover's back, his hands pulling buttocks, and consequently a full penis deeper into him. And then the aftermath, the deep kisses, with the still-hard, rocklike even, penis still deep within, slowly moving still, in the warmth of the boy's body. They would lie there for minutes, loving everything all at the same time, rejoicing in their oneness, their mutual unity.
'You haven't come yet have you Alex?' Asks Quintus, looking down at the flushed face of the boy.
'No, but it doesn't matter Quin.'
'Oh I think it does matter sweetheart.'
'How are you going to do it?'
'I'll show you. It's a very nice way. You'll see.'
It was a nice way. A very nice way.
Alex, during the final stages, as he played with his lover's ears and hair, thought he might faint, the feelings were so exquisite. And then as it all finally welled up inside him, like a wave about the break and crash onto the beach, he began to make those so very personal sounds to express his total satisfaction at the job completed. For the last minute at least he made them, louder and louder until Quintus was forced to place a hand over his mouth, lightly, to suggest to Alex that they were just too loud, but so very lovely. So erotic.
The taste was in their mouths, brought together now, with just a hint of the morsel in his mouth, between his lips, root and branch, pulses all over now and done.
'Do you think I should go down and see if he's alright Garth?'
'Good grief, no Sean. Alex knows what he's doing. Leave them be.'
That's good advice from Garth, Sean's partner he'd discovered two years ago not that long after Alex's mother and his wife had departed for pastures new. He's never had affairs with men, so that was nothing to do with the end of the marriage. He got custody of the boys too, which was unusual, but that's another story. The boys were old enough to leave of an evening, so he was free to explore the field. They got talking in the pub Sean liked and went for a stroll when the bar closed. They seemed to have enough common ground in their heart-to-heart chat, and subtle touches were not rebuffed. Surely just one little peck on the cheek wouldn't hurt?
It felt right to Sean, and Garth too. Both men wanted more of the same. What about lips on lips this time?
This felt even better as both men became aware of the familiar swelling in their pants. When Sean's hand strayed lower, he felt it, enlarged and warm. Garth's hand did the same to him as they kissed harder this time. This is good!
'I have to be at home, as much as I'd like too. By the way I'm a virgin.'
'So am I. How funny. What about tomorrow. Can you get away for a couple of hours?'
'Yes, probably. Perhaps if you gave me your number?'
He'd heard the rain on the roof. A heavy and prolonged shower which had woken him, partially.
Alex had hastily tied the cord on his gown into a loose and insecure knot, one half of a reef knot. He moved quickly to the door of the Wellhouse, as he had always called the converted outhouse, one end attached to the main house and connected by a door. The door opened into a good-sized bedroom, a bed just big enough for two at a push, some very spare essential furniture, a built in cupboard for his clothes, and another door leading into a beautifully appointed bathroom; shower over a large bathtub, lavatory, and bidet because the grandparents said they had one in France and they had to have one here. But they never came.
John had leant his bike against the wall just to one side of the door and knocked gently. What Alex saw when he opened the door, shocked him, but also instantly aroused in him a longing to take good care of the beautiful Johnny. The sky-blue eyes, the pale brown hair, the slender arms and legs, and as far as he's concerned, the perfect figure.
'Goodness John. Are you ok?'
Silly question. The boy is far from ok. He's shivering, arms folded in front of him, hunched over, cold and clearly uncomfortable.
Alex has his arm around his friend and leads him inside and into the warm room, kicking the door shut with a bang.
In a few short moments he will see the boy nude. Something he's been waiting patiently to witness for weeks now. There's not too much to remove before the sight of a naked Johnny will be before him. Perhaps it will all be a disappointment, but that's not very likely. Alex has seen enough to know otherwise. The fitted trousers that showed the boy off nicely. There was something very desirable him, that was not in any doubt at all. You could see it squeezed in there. Lots of the boys wore trousers like that, no doubt to attract the interest of the girls. Can you see it? It's in here just waiting for you.
When their knees touch, Alex looks again. Yes, enlarged, just a fraction but there's no doubting the boy's arousal. No doubt at all.
The boy's tee shirt came off with a struggle. Wet cotton over wet flesh. Finally Alex got the thing up and over the boy's head and off. John was still shivering, poor soul. He kicked off his trainers and Alex pushed them with a foot to one side. Those sky-blue eyes again, looking up at him, the mouth open, breath coming quite quickly now.
'Do you mind John?' Asks Alex telling us what a nice polite boy he is. Being undressed is what Johnny is waiting for and both of them know it. But it's how you do it. That's the key.
The boy shakes his head, but there's no smile there. Down in one? No, thinks Alex. Let's savour this revelation shall we?
A pretty colour they are; a sort of pale peach, but sexy knickers, they are definitely not. Not these days when boys can ask for something more interesting, albeit less convenient for peeing. Alex wouldn't agree. He thinks the modern style more convenient and very sexy.
Alex takes the boy into the bathroom, picks up a large bath towel and arranges it over John's shoulders. This will give his boy a modicum of comfort. Yes, by now he knows that this boy is his. But let's not delay this any longer.
'I'm going to run you a bath John. You're frozen. It'll put all the warmth back in you.'
'I need to do something first Alex.'
'Ok. Shall I leave you?'
'Do you want to?'
'I can stay if you want me to?.'
Alex lowers the boy's underpants carefully in preparation. With both hands he lowers them down John's thighs, lower legs and off his feet as John lifts first one foot and then the other. And thus the boy is revealed for what he is. John stands up straight, ready to be admired.
John said he wanted Alex to stay with him. Alex certainly didn't object. He'd been in that environment enough times at Saint Endellions where the boys had by necessity to perform all manner of morning body functions in the plain sight, and hearing of others. The boys sit and wait. Alex had arranged a small wooden chair so he could be right next to John, almost as if he was doing the same thing. There were the usual expected sounds. With his finger tips Alex re-arranges John's hair, pushing it away from his eyes. The sounds of success now.
'All done?'
'I think so. No, not quite.'
A minute later…..
'Ok now?'
'Yes. Will you help me?'
'Of course.'
When John stood up and turned to face Alex, it was a revelation.
'Sorry Alex.' The boys says, his apology failing to convey any sincerity
at all.
'Don't be. What's brought that on then?' Alex asks, smiling. It's no real surprise. Little wonder he looked 'packed in tight' in those trousers he wore for school. His balls too, hanging low and large for a boy that age with not a pubic hair in sight, front, back, or anywhere else.
John had never seen a bidet let alone used one. It didn't take him long to get the hang of it, rather enjoying the sensation of the warm water tickling his bottom.
'It's nice isn't it? Not too warm?' Alex asks as John enjoys the sensations he's getting in his back passage. He checks his fingers looking up at Alex, smiling sweetly. And then he's back there again, open mouthed and absorbed. Much of the ice has been broken now. Things out in the open now.
Alex had run the bathwater with John sitting on the side still wrapped up in his towel, the steam gently rising. It was a chilly autumn morning.
John had arranged himself on his back, and due to the bath tub being on the short side, with his knees raised. Alex sat on the edge waiting for any instructions to be issued from Johnny. He waited, looking down at the boy whose hands were fairly well occupied as if to suggest Alex wasn't doing his stuff like he ought to be. Not so fast youngster.
'Anything I can do John?' He asks quietly, sensing John's frustration.
The boy looks up. And then down again. Then he lifts his hand and takes Alex's, brings it to his mouth and gently bites the ends of his fingers. So this is it……is it?
There is no soap or shower gel involved, just Alex's hands on Johnny's body. Everywhere, with no stone unturned. But this isn't the right place; not the best place to carry on from where the boys had left off back in the school library. The place where both boys had begun this little adventure which could be seen out this very day, here in the privacy of Alex's little apartment and work space.
As Alex helped the boy out of the bath tub, John saw his new best friend naked for the first time. Alex had discarded the white robe. John stood on the mat, dripping and inside the towel Alex had draped over him. He stood like all boys stand waiting to be rubbed dry, like boys do on the beach, their hands held together under their chins and looking down at what matters to boys. Yes it is still there John, and as pretty as a picture.
The drying process, the warm towel worked gently over the boy's body, was another erotic experience for both boys, and when finally done with, and the towel discarded onto the tiled floor, they faced each other, their hands around hips. So, what now boys?
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