Johnny Come Home
by Rafael Henry
Chapter 10
'Alex wants me again on Saturday. Can I go please?'
'Yes of course darling.' Answers Anna, his sweet mother. 'Will you be staying over again do think?'
'Yes mum.'
'Why don't you let your father take you. It's very cold this morning.'
'That's ok mum. I go by bike.'
'Well at least wear some warmer clothes today John.' Anna insists. 'You'll freeze on that bike. Ring if you need picking up.'
John's hands were cold, very cold, when Alex took them in his and kissed his mouth.
'Bath?'
'No.' The boy says, squeezing Alex's hands harder.
'What then? And why are you in your school stuff?'
'Because you like it don't you? And we never get the chance at school do we?'
'That's right, we don't. We haven't have we?'
'Well then?'
Alex has a certain weakness in this area. They all looked the same, on the face of it, grey trousers, pale blue shirts, navy blue jumpers, black shoes, and whatever there was, unseen underneath that hid the boy's precious bits and pieces. There was always that mystery when he saw one, standing, waiting, noticing him and smiling. That's a nice big boy, he thinks. I wonder if I'll ever have the chance to talk to him? No, he won't ever want to talk to a nothing kind of person that I am.
But he does.
That was S. Endelion's. The boys at the Academy have scant respect for the official uniform, but what they do wear does compensate in quite a good way.
He saw the boy again later that day. There are tons of quiet places in those rambling Victorian buildings where you might run into someone quite by chance. But this wasn't quite by chance. It was by accident, on purpose. There was a smile, a surprised 'hello what are you doing here?' exchange with a big hand placed lightly on a smaller shoulder.
'Nothing.' The boy says innocently.
'So where are you going?'
'Nowhere.' The boy says, looking up at Alex.
'Well would you like to go somewhere?'
'With you?'
'Yes, with me, on our own?'
'Yes. Now?'
'Yes right now.'
'Ok.'
Alex takes the boy to a good place he knows that has been used by boys many times before. They stand in the semi-darkness facing each other.
'Would you like to show me then?' says Alex quietly.
'And then can we do it?'
'Yes if you want to. Pull your jumper up and everything so I can see your tummy.'
The boys does, and now stares downwards expectantly. That just leaves his grey shorts to undo and then all will be revealed. It's been said that good things can come in small packages. With the boy's shorts below his knees now, Alex takes a long look at the tiny bulge in the boy's plain and simple loose white pants. The rest is up to the boy.
It's simple enough as the boy lowers the waistband and out pops his bits. He giggles quietly, flicking the small penis up and down to encourage the pale skinned thing to react for Alex.
'You do it.' The boys demands, as the small and very typical uncircumcised part begins to swell, the overhanging loose skin retreating just a tad.
It takes three finger tips and a thumb, and a little pushing up and gently pulling down to get things going as the boy holds everything else out of the way.
Alex gives the boy a kiss on the top of his head, a welcome gesture of friendship for Rowen. He liked that, and it makes his tummy turn over, and inspires his penis to grow larger still.
'Gosh, you are a pretty boy Rowen.'
'Am I? Can I feel you now. Will your sperm come out?'
Alex considers the prospect of producing for Rowen, and finds himself doubtful. He remembers the Chaplain's words uttered in his last Confirmation class. It was a warning not to give into the demands of the younger boys. Boys they considered handsome devils in long trousers and well worth getting to know have been tempted by younger boys giving them the 'come on' treatment. They discuss it in the junior dormitories, which boys might grant them their heart's desire. Alex had been mentioned in dispatches as a boy who they knew had granted favours to boys. All you had to do was to ask. To ask was to receive in all likelihood. They were all curious to know what sperm was like, that is to say, proper sperm that shot out of big boy's things, several times, apparently . So one boy claimed, as the others listened, wide eyed. Rowen didn't admit to seeing it happen once. He's never told anyone about this encounter with the boy whose name he can't ever mention. That's what the boy did all over the floor whilst doing something rude to Rowen with his hand down and inside the back of his pants. The boy asked Rowen a question afterwards. He didn't answer yes or no, but in bed that night he tried it. It felt good. Then he tried going further. That felt even better.
'Look Rowen, this might not be the best thing for you.'
'But I like you Alex. You're really handsome.'
'And I like you too. Really, I do. But this isn't right for you just now. Maybe another time? Sorry. Come on, let me do you up. I want to.'
So Alex does, neatly, shirt tucked in and all, ending matters with another lightweight touching on the boy's cheek. There's that queer feeling again; the feeling he gets when he consorts with one of the younger brethren. This brief liaison was not of his making, which provides him with a small excuse.
'Alright now?'
The boy nods, unable to hide his disappointment.
Alex was going to walk past the School Chapel but changed his mind and opened the heavy wooden door and went in. He recognized the piece being played on the recently refurbished organ. A Louis Vierne piece. He could see the boy playing up in the organ loft, red haired and very clever to be able to do all that difficult stuff. He sat down to listen and didn't leave until Jack had finished. Jack looks down and sees him, and gives a wave of recognition. He hadn't heard the door open behind him, what with the organ playing so loudly. It was Rowen. He'd been following Alex. Jack walks past the two boys on his way out of the building, Rowen having sat himself down next to Alex in one of the pews.
'What are you doing here Rowen?'
'I came to find you. I saw you come in here so I followed you. Can I talk to you for a while?'
'Yes I suppose so. What about?'
'I don't like him.'
'Who don't you like?'
Rowen whispers a name in Alex's ear, his hand on Alex's thigh. Distracted by that gesture, Alex doesn't catch the name.
'Who was that again?'
Without moving his hand, his other one at the back of Alex's neck, Rowen repeats the name.
'Has he been bothering you by any chance?'
'Yes. I don't like him.'
'You'll have to tell me exactly how Rowen?'
Rowen tells him.
'I'll have words with him Ro. Don't worry, he won't bother you again.'
'I like you Alex, not him.' The boys says, leaning into Alex. He still hasn't moved his hand.
Alex is moved somewhat. Aroused even, as he reacts to the boy's hand on his thigh. He doesn't ask Rowen to move it because he's enjoying the contact. His right arm is free, resting on the back of the pew they're sitting in. It would be no effort to lift his hand and place it firmly on Rowen's shoulder, but he doesn't.
There's a deep sigh from Rowen as he leans in harder. Alex had been thinking about Simon Perret again, prompted by Rowen mention of him. He can understand why Rowen doesn't care for him. The ash blond hair and pretty face has given the boy social confidence in spades, with all the attention he can command amongst the boys. It's funny how unlikes attract, Rowen with that almost black hair, a little too long perhaps, and shapely heart shaped mouth. Shapely in other places too, a perfect model for those trousers.
'Had you not better get on Rowen? Somewhere you're supposed to be?'
'No.' he says, adjusting his position against Alex's body, and tighter still. Alex decides to swim rather than sink, as he puts an arm around the boy. And then it's fingers through hair, pretty hair, silky smooth. His hand slips lower and feels the bottom of Rowen's jumper in his palm. That's enough Alex.
When Alex stood up, Rowen notices. It was the first place he was going to look. Behind the organ case, there's a space. Alex knew about it from his friend Jack, a music scholar. Jack had discovered that space when he was wandering around the chapel waiting for his organ teacher to arrive one afternoon. There was an old padded chair with no arms. As Alex stands over the odd piece of furniture that had no reason that he could fathom for being there at all. Rowen guides him into it and stands astride Alex's legs, the boy's hands resting on the top of Alex's thighs, and his face visibly flushing as he looks intently down at the stranded Alex.
'Can I sit in your lap please?' The boy asks in that 'oh so persuasive' little voice of his, as he touches Alex's knee.
'Alright, just for a minute.' Says Alex, not at all convinced that this isn't going to end well. He'd turned the boy away once before but he isn't at all sure he can a second time. Reject the advances of a boy like Rowan? Hardly.
Alex has his left arm around the boy's back as he settles down onto him, his legs dangling over his. He can feel the boy's skin on his back where his jumper has ridden up to give him access to bare flesh. As his hand travels lower now, he remembers what the boy had showed him under those grey shorts. He feels the soft texture and knows that there's no way back now. His dark hair, quite thick dark hair, still smells of the showers as his fingers push through it. The boy, liking that gesture, looks up at Alex……and smiles. Alex presses his nose against the soft face.
'I need to move you.'
Rowen has his legs either side of Alex's now with his head resting just under his friend's, and his navy jumper pulled up under his chin showing an expanse of tummy and chest, and everything intact below there.
'It's up to you now Ro.'
Rowen has already decided what must happen next. How much to expose, and what to do with it. Nothing, some, or all. And then what?
Alex runs his palms up and down the downy flesh of two thighs, outside, inside, from knees up to the soft folds that still cover the boy. Rowen wants to show Alex now, and when he does, with two thumbs pushing down, he's expecting more.
Jack, the organ scholar and more than capable of making a complete mess of the Louis Vierne piece, realised where he had left the one page of music that was missing. In the organ loft by the console. It must have slipped out of the pile of loose sheets. Oh bugger, he says under his breath. But Jack has another thought. Where did Alex and Rowen go? As far as he knew, they hadn't left the building.
Alex had told the boy to be as quiet as he could, but in the throes of it all, he had trouble remaining silent. In fact he couldn't. Alex was enjoying it too, those lovely appreciative sounds coming from the boy's mouth. So erotic. Neither can the boy stay still, wriggling around in Alex's lap like he is now, his bottom pressing down into Alex like that, moving this way and that from the sheer pleasure of it all. The tickling feeling deep inside was getting stronger and stronger for both of them. All he wanted was for Alex to go on doing what he was doing so beautifully while they both watched.
'Shush!' whispers Alex, trying to shut the boy up.
The boy's body seemed to go rigid, his hips thrust upwards. The tickle had become unbearable, and then in a few seconds it was all gone, as quickly as it had come, it had gone, that wonderful deep tickle that rose up inside him trying to get out. And here's the evidence, exactly what came out.
The boys had watched and waited until the wriggling was over, the breathing slowing, as Alex holds Rowen tight around his body. But Alex isn't finished yet; not quite. Skin on skin.
But now he is.
Deep breaths Alex. More deep breaths as the truth dawns.
What exactly has happened here?
They hadn't heard Jack come back in, but Jack had heard them alright. He had stood there for more than five minutes, listening. It wasn't his business, what two boys got up to behind the organ case. But that didn't stop him listening, and enjoying, so much so that it was all too much for him too. He was about to have an accident. He couldn't see what was going on but he could hear well enough. It didn't take much imagination as his hand worked inside his pants. An accident was coming, and quickly. Those sounds! No, this is too much. Two voices, one deeper than the other. No words, just those noises. Unmistakeable.
Jack just hoped what he's just done wouldn't show. It shouldn't show, not with what he was capable of. Not like some boys could do. No, it won't show. Then he realized that he'd run out of clean pants that morning. When he looked down to check, what did he see? But it was worth it. Absolutely fantastic in fact. Sound is food for the imagination indeed.
Most boys will remember their first wet dream, if they were lucky enough to have one, or more, when they are conscious enough to know that they've been humping the mattress wildly, with the consequential outcoming. The now cool patch on the sheet. Oh my goodness, what will mummy say if she finds it? But it was good wasn't it! There was a spring in the boy's step that morning. He can't wait to tell his mates at school.
'What sort of accident?' Rowen asks.
'Never mind. It'll be on you. Sorry. I'll take them. You'll be fine in just your shorts.
He'd got Rowen perfectly placed. Exactly right for taking his own pleasure. A few minutes later, with Rowen all sorted out, Alex began to imagine some kind of future for the sweet boy Rowen, the kind of opportunities that might arise, and the possibility of the hitherto, unthinkable, with him. Proper sex.
With the plaster dry now, Alex could begin the process of carving into the plaster of Paris, with Johnny looking on. After all, he's been the model for this piece of three dimensional artwork. The whole thing, about two feet high, was taking shape nicely, and there was even, albeit slight, a resemblance John thought. He turned the sculpture round on the circular banding wheel so he can inspect the back, or more particularly, the boy's buttocks. Too full? Not full enough? Neither, he had it about right they thought. The boy presents himself again to check. Yes, about right.
'So what about the front Alex? I don't look like that do I? That looks like a girl.'
'A bit tricky that John.' He says augering a hole with a thin screw driver in which would fit a short piece of aluminium armature wire for the boy's penis to be built around.
Having played with various lengths, and having a good laugh on occasions, they agreed to disagree on the final shape and size, and after some lengthy discussion concerning the question, flaccid or erect, they settled for an almost perfect reproduction of the real thing but 'classically small'. Probably a wise decision, but not the one Robert in Phoenix AZ would have chosen. Robert would prefer a full-on erection no doubt. But this is art, not pornography; please!
With this thorny issue now out of the way, John whispers a few words into Alex's ear. Something we can only guess at.
Alex knows well enough about the recovery powers of boys. Once is never enough, but just the first taste. The second may take longer, but is often stronger, and the third, if he can, seldom too much to ask for. John asked, and was not turned away.
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